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#bts fanfiction
aniqua · 2 months ago
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When you see “English isn’t my first language…” just know the fic is going to be top-tier. Nonnative English speakers will always give a delicious fanfic.
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9K notes · View notes
junghelioseok · 9 months ago
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wake up call.
↳ good morning, indeed.
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◇  jungkook x reader ◇  smut | established relationship ◇  0.8k [1/1]
notes: my hand slipped 🤷🏻‍♀️
warnings: literally 838 words of self-indulgence! oral (f receiving), jk wakes u up with some good ol’ tongue technology okay that’s it that’s the plot, also smh @ me totally forgetting to put warnings on this when i first posted LOL
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You awaken slowly, pulled from your slumber by a force that you have no name for, your back arching off the mattress and your legs quivering with pleasure. Your lips part in a silent groan as you reach down, eyes fluttering as you grasp blindly at the dark head of hair working determinedly between your spread thighs.
“J-Jung—?” The syllables escape you in scarcely more than a whimper. Your fingers find purchase around the soft little ponytail that sits messily atop his head, tangling in the silky strands. “Jungk—nnngh.”
Your tormentor pulls away for the briefest of seconds, and you keen at the momentary loss of his wet mouth. “Shh,” he breathes, chuckling lowly when you jolt. “It’ll feel really good soon.”
Warm hands smooth up your thighs, sending shivers up your spine as his arms wind around you in an ironclad embrace. You’re rendered immobile, helpless in his grasp, and your mouth falls open when he envelops your clit between his lips and gives it a harsh suck. Your hips buck at the burst of pleasure, but he’s quick to splay his hands against your stomach and pin you back down against the rumpled sheets. Almost apologetically, he licks a stripe up the length of your clenching pussy, dipping inside for a split second before the wet, hot suction of his mouth returns to your clit in full force. A sharp moan tears from your throat, escaping into the open air of your bedroom.
Blinking blearily against the sunlight flooding through the gap in the curtains, you finally take in your boyfriend’s prone figure, his head and bare shoulders illuminated in hazy gold. His hair is gathered up at his crown, a few stray tendrils escaping from the elastic and standing at odd angles, and affection blooms in your heart at the sight. Your fingers trail gently through his ponytail, and though you can’t see his face, you can feel the way his lips curl into a smile against the soft skin of your inner thigh.
“Pretty girl,” he coos fondly. “Wanna make you feel good. Wanna make you cum.”
You arch breathlessly when he punctuates his sentiment by slipping two fingers inside your pussy with no warning at all. His mouth wraps around your clit again, his tongue flicking against the sensitive bud in time with the steady cadence of his fingers, and you shudder deliriously when he easily finds the spot that has you seeing stars.
Your grasp on his hair tightens, further mussing the soft strands, but he doesn’t even seem to notice as he digs a little deeper, releasing your clit to groan in approval. Deliberately, he replaces his mouth with the heel of his palm, grinding insistently against the nub until your hips are spasming in his grip.
“Jungkook—” you gasp. “Oh, god—”
“Tell me, pretty girl,” Jungkook rasps. The hand that’s still wound around your legs releases its steely grip, coming up to close over your fingers on his head. Slowly, he encourages you to grasp his ponytail more tightly, a low groan escaping him when your nails scrape against his scalp. “Show me where you want me.”
You’re wide awake now. Exhaling shakily, you spread your legs a little wider, guiding his face back between your thighs until his nose is brushing against your clit. He retracts his fingers from where they’re sheathed inside your core, and you’re about to reprimand him when he seemingly reads your mind and licks a long, slow stripe up the length of your entrance. Your eyes flutter shut at the warm wetness of his tongue, your lips parting in a moan, and when he dips inside you gasp his name.
Jungkook is no longer teasing. He eats you out now with an enthusiasm that puts all his previous efforts to shame, alternating between long licks and soft sucks on your clit. Pleasure coils in the pit of your belly, tightening with each swipe of his tongue. You’re teetering at the edge, dangerously close to the brink, and Jungkook seems to sense it because he doubly renews his efforts. Two fingers slip inside you, curling up just so to reach that soft spot, and the resulting wave of pleasure nearly has your vision going white. Your hips spasm as you ride out your orgasm, your walls clenching wildly around his fingers, and Jungkook chuckles as his thumb pets you in slow, sure circles.
“That’s my girl,” he murmurs. Still feeling rather boneless, you glance down to see him smiling happily at you, the ponytail atop his head askew and his chin slick with your juices. Giggling, you smooth a hand over his messy hair, tugging gently at the loose strands near his nape until he takes the hint and crawls up your body to give you a kiss.
“I like your hair,” you tell him once he’s pulled back for air. “Thought you should know.”
He grins, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “And I like you. Thought I should show you.”
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gguksgalaxy · 11 months ago
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Stranded | JJK | E2L
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Jungkook’s offer to help you study for your exam is unwelcome. His entire presence is unwelcome. You don’t want help from the guy who passes all his classes without even trying. It’s annoying — he is annoying. From the way he grins whenever he catches you staring at him, to the way his eyes shine whenever he smiles at you. Oh, and let’s not forget the way his tattoos shift when he stretches or the way his jawline sharpens when he’s focused. Nope, you definitely can’t stand him.
›› AU: Enemies to lovers, fuck/badboy!Jungkook ›› Genre: Fluff / Smut / Angst ›› Rating: NC-17 (explicit sexual content, 18+) ›› Pairing: JJK x Reader ›› Word Count: 13k ›› Jungkook Snuggle Drabbles. Warnings Include: A lot of swearing, heavy themes of miscommunication and strong judgements, Jungkook sleeps around a lot, university related stress, brief mention of past underage drinking, emotional and romantic angst, argument, the desecration of a mug.  Sexual content: Protected sex, blowjob, cunnilingus, face sitting/riding.
A/N: This one's for you @fallinforkoo I hope that you like it!! This is not something I would usually write but the idea popped up when seeing the request so here she is! A little cliché but I hope it's original enough. Let me know what you guys think!
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“As your best friend,” Taehyung says sheepishly over the phone, “I really need you to do me a favour.”
You groan, leaning your head over the edge of the bed. “I don’t like where this is going.”
He hums. He doesn’t even laugh. There’s just a brief silence before he asks you the impossible. “I need you to invite Jungkook for the get-together on Friday.”
“Absolutely fucking not,” you spit. “Taehyung, my best friend, the platonic love of my life. I will do anything for you. Literally anything. I would suck your toes if you asked me, but I won’t do that.”
Now he laughs, loud and deep. It only makes you sulk more. Inviting Jeon Jungkook into your humble abode? To have him walk around with that smug—and delectably gorgeous—grin on his face as he finds something to make fun of? Not over your dead body. Not in a million years.
“Please, do it for me.”
You vigorously shake your head. “I don’t see how I would be doing you a favour by inviting him. You don’t even like him!”
“I mean...I really don’t mind him. But I like Jimin, a lot, and I feel bad for excluding his friend all the time, it’s starting to get weird. Can’t you just invite him over? I promise you won’t have to talk to him.”
Oh, but you do. Because Jungkook always manages to weasel under your skin and get you worked up to a point where you just have to say something. It’s not your fault that he’s such an ass. He just rubs you all the wrong ways. “I am in a constant state of wanting to rip his head off. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Jungkook is just so...You really cannot stand him. First of all, he doesn’t study. All he does is party and sleep around with random girls. Yet, he still somehow manages to be at the top of the class. Secondly, he’s a dick. He has no respect for both his elders and you. Any chance he gets he will make fun of you or blatantly insult you. And lastly, he looks too good and he knows it. Walking around campus just basking in the attention from all the girls, and guys, who want him despite his reputation.
Taehyung snorts. “If I were you, I would be more worried that you’re in a constant state of wanting to suck his dick.”
“I’d rather snap his dick in half.” Sometimes you wonder why you’re friends with Taehyung. After all, he’s the one who told Jimin to bring along his friend. Now, you’re regularly exposed to Jeon Jungkook’s incessant flirting with anything that breathes, constant whining about just about everything, and complete lack of personal space. Taehyung had been certain that if you got to know Jungkook outside of class, it would make you more amicable towards each other. However, it’s only made it worse.
“You know, sometimes people lie about something so often that they start to feel like it’s the truth.”
You roll your eyes, sitting up on the bed. It’s noon already. You really should be studying for your Psychology of Law exam. Also known as the course from hell. As a law student, you really can’t make sense of the material. All the mumbling about internal thought processes and stressors has your mind logging off. You’re chapters behind. You don’t even know where to start. Because unlike a certain someone, you actually have to study. Even with all-nighters, thorough summaries, and flashcards, you’ve still managed to fail quite a few classes. The future of your law degree literally balances on this one class. If you fail, you lose your scholarship.
“Are you still with me?”  Taehyung asks.
“Yeah, I’m just considering defenestrating myself. Anything better than studying for psych.”
“Even inviting Jungkook?”
“Anything but that.”  It’s not like Taehyung is completely wrong. Jungkook looks like a model when he actually decides to groom himself instead of showing up to class in sweats and uncombed hair. You’re way too aware that he works out five days a week. Or that he’s got tats lining his arm, intricate designs that—No. You’re not falling down this hole today.
Taehyung’s typing something up, probably studying for his own exams. “I will let you study then. Just please, invite him over. I will forever be in your debt. Be the better person.”
The sweet lining to Taehyung’s plea actually manages to work for once. He’s your best friend, after all. He would probably do the same thing for you. It’s just not that fun to be around Jungkook when part of you—as much as you may deny it—feels some type of way about him.
“I will consider it.”
“That’s not a no.”
“Don’t make me change it back to a no, Kim.”
He chuckles. “Someday, you will thank me. That day being the one when you finally come to terms with your feelings.”
“Bye, Taehyung,” you grumble, ending the call and throwing the phone down on the duvet.
So yes, maybe you do have a thing for Jungkook. Doesn’t make him any less annoying. If anything, it makes him even more insufferable. Why did you have to develop a weird crush on a guy you can’t even stand? The world doesn’t have to be cruel like that. But here you are. Not that it matters. Jungkook would sleep with just about any girl but you. Which says more about them.
Reluctantly, you get up and grab your books from your desk. Studying is easier in the living room, away from distractions.
Your peace doesn’t last long. Not even halfway through your first coffee, your doorbell rings.
Groaning, you get up and prepare your best ‘no I don’t want to buy whatever you’re selling’ face. Upon unlocking the door, that face falters.
“What the hell are you doing here?” you spit out the moment you see Jungkook’s big doe eyes. He’s standing on your doorstep like he’s supposed to be here. With his backpack nonchalantly slung over one shoulder.
He looks past you, into your apartment. “Oh, you started studying for psych?”
Your living room is a mess. “Well, I was trying to start, but I’ve been rudely interrupted by someone who has no invitation to be here.”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m here to make sure that you don’t fail another class and have to drop out.” Like he owns the place, he pushes past you and waltzes inside. He drops his backpack and readjusts his baseball cap, showing off his forehead and chocolate brown hair. It’s really starting to get long.
“I don’t need your help.” There’s no way he’s here just to help you study. And even if he was, he’s just going to distract you. You’re not friends. He must have some ulterior motive for being here. Jeon Jungkook doesn’t study, let alone help people study. Not to your knowledge at least. “I can manage just fine on my own.”
He grabs his laptop from his bag. “What part of ‘having to drop out if you fail another class’ did you not understand?” He puts the device down and gets comfortable on your couch. As if he’s done it before.
You cross your arms over your chest. “Who told you about that?”
He shrugs. “Jimin mentioned it, he must have it from Taehyung. Does it really matter?”
“Yes, it matters,” you sneer. “I didn’t ask you to be here. I don’t want you to be here. There’s no way I’m going to get anything done with you around. Get the fuck out.” You point a finger at the door, waiting for him to leave. “Do you not hear me?”
“Oh, I heard you. I’m just waiting for you to get over yourself and realise that you actually need my help.”
“I don’t.”
“Can you tell me the difference between compliance and suggestion in the context of a police hearing?” he questions, leaning back and propping his clunky boot-clad feet onto the table.
You press your lips together in a thin line, thinking about a possible answer.
He grins. “Any idea what the Reid Technique is and why it is or isn’t ethical?”
“No,” you grumble.
“You know what the pros and cons are of an Oslo style eyewitness lineup?”
You shake your head, dropping your arms in defeat. He’s got you. You don’t know anything. Maybe you do need his help. As long as he tries to be nice, you can give him the benefit of the doubt. Another year of your degree is definitely worth it.
Jungkook pats the spot on the couch beside him. “Let’s get started, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover if we want to get you a good grade.”
And so you get to work. Jungkook makes himself a little too comfortable in your home. Aside from pulling out his flashcards, multiple summaries and annotated materials, he actually slips into the kitchen to make tea. He raids your pantry for snacks and pulls out your blanket from under the table.
“What?” He says, mouth stuffed with gummy bears while he unfolds the blanket. “I’m sorry, but your apartment is really fucking cold. Since you’re dressed as if you’re going to the North Pole, I assumed the radiator must be broken.”
“It has been almost a week now. My landlord is being an ass about it. Also, I’m wearing normal clothes that normal people wear when it’s cold outside. Unlike you, with your short-sleeves and thin coat.”
“It’s October.”
“It’s nine degrees outside. You’re insane.”
“No,” he says, sitting back down with the blanket around his shoulders. “I’m just hot.”
A reluctant smile pulls at your lips. Why must you betray yourself?
He leans in close, inspecting your face. “I can’t believe I lived to see the day. You actually smiled at one of my jokes.”
If he’s good at one thing, it’s definitely proving that he’s an annoying shit. “I’m laughing at how pathetic you are.”
“At least I’m not the one who tried to hide her smile.”
“And I’m not the one who forced his way into this apartment. I’d watch out, some people might start to think you actually like being around me.” You turn back towards his laptop, scrolling through the document to the next topic. Police hearings.
Jungkook puts his hand down behind you so he can get closer—too close—and look over your shoulder. “Maybe,” he whispers, “I do like spending time with you.”
You whip your head around so fast you nearly knock heads with him. He doesn’t move. Both your noses basically touching. At this proximity you can see all the fine details in his skin. The flecks of lighter brown in his eyes that really do shine. The moles on his nose, the scar on his cheek.
“Nah.” He pulls away. “I’m just messing with you. I still don’t like you.”
What on earth did you do to make him come over here? If he dislikes you so much, he shouldn’t have bothered. You’re not a charity case. “If you’d just let me fail, you wouldn’t have to put up with me again.”
He tuts. “Where’s the fun in that? I’d honestly miss your bad comebacks and petty remarks.”
“Excuse me, my comebacks are not bad?”
“They’re mediocre at best, ma’am,” he laughs, grin showing the fullness of his cheeks that make him look deceptively cute.
You shiver at the thought. He’s a lot of things, but he’s not cute. Yes, he’s probably a good guy deep down, but he’s not cute. Jeon Jungkook is and always will be an annoying, self-entitled, arrogant brat. Nothing is going to change your mind. Not even the way your heart beats faster from just having him so close.
“Don’t ‘ma’am’ me,” you bite.
“I’m not even going to give you any points for that. You didn’t even try!” He makes an exasperated gesture as he grabs another handful of gummies.
‘Childish’ should be added to the list. “Are you here to help me study or not?”
Jungkook nods, sitting cross-legged. “Just so I get to bother you for another year.”
The two of you get back to work. He takes you through a very detailed and too dramatic explanation of the Reid technique. You find yourself captivated by how passionate he seems. He sure does know a lot about the subject.
Jungkook turns out to be a very active talker. He makes very detailed descriptions and uses his hands to explain things. It’s easy to understand him, but it’s way harder to memorise it. As the material gets more complicated, he gets more serious and you start to lose track. His frown deepens, dimple-like creases appearing in his cheek that make him look sharper and older. You can’t help but stare.
He’s so handsome. The tattoos that circle around his left arm shift as he speaks. The same way that his earrings dangle as he moves. You get caught up in him, the way he talks, the passion that rolls off him in waves.
“Are you gawking at me?”  He says, stopping his movements mid-air.
Cheeks flushed, you try to come up with a smart reply. “I was thinking whether your head has always looked this big.”
His lips pull into a straight line. “I’m here trying to do my best to explain to you what the difference is between an Oslo confrontation and a sequential lineup, and you’re worried about the size of my fucking head?”
“I mean, it’s awfully big, no?”  You poke his forehead.
He grabs your wrist in return, pulling your body towards him. “Can you at least try to appreciate my effort?”
“I’m listening!”
Wetting his lips, he arches an eyebrow. “Explain the difference to me.”
Well, you weren’t listening that intently. “Uh, a sequential lineup has a lower chance of causing false positives.”
“That’s the last sentence I said, you can do better.” He lets go of you so you can lean back. For a second, he actually seems pissed off. Maybe you should try, he’s doing his best after all. It’s just hard when he’s here looking this good.
“Oslo confrontations feature the suspects in a lineup at the same time, whereas a sequential lineup shows them one by one.” That’s all you got.
“Well,” he says, throwing you a gummy from the bag. “You got one point out of five.”
Treat halfway to your mouth, you stop. “One?!”
He nods. “And I’m being generous with you. First of all, you cannot call them suspects, they’re candidates or possible suspects. There’s usually only one suspect and the rest are actors who look like the suspect. You also missed the part where, during the sequential lineup, the witness doesn’t get to see all the suspects. Once they pick the one they think is the perpetrator, they will not get to see the additional candidates.”  Why does this sound so hot when he says it?
God, you’re going insane. “Well, I’ll try to remember that and the seven-hundred other things you said. All the blabbering you do makes it really hard.”  It comes out harsher than you intended. From the way Jungkook stays silent, you know it must’ve hit home.
He gets up, making your heart sink. “I think it’s time for a break. You’re getting frustrated. Do you want to order pizza?”
“I don’t recall asking you to stay over for dinner.”
Jungkook takes a long, deep breath, closing his eyes. You can feel the anger build up. “Listen, I’m here to help you. The least you can do is fucking appreciate it. Be stubborn all you want, but you need this. You want a shot at this degree. I’m here, because as much as I can’t stand you, I won’t enjoy watching you get kicked off the entire program because you’re struggling with the material.”  There’s a heavy pause. You let his words sink in. The level of concern is surprising. It’s sweet. “So do you want to order pizza or not? Because I’m starving.”
You nod. “Pizza sounds good.”
The tension ebs away after that. Jungkook goes into the kitchen and comes back with a mug filled with milk, of all things. You bite your tongue.
“I want pineapple on my pizza,” he says.
Pausing, you raise your eyebrows. “You cannot be serious.”
“Depends. How much do you hate pineapple?” His shit eating grin returned like it was never gone. It gives him away.
Narrowing your eyes at him, you speak; “So, double pineapple for you?”
Suddenly, his face falters. “Whoa, you can’t actually do that to me.”
“You’re the one who said he likes pineapple!”
“It was a joke. No person in their right mind would put fruit on their pizza.”  He sits next to you, taking another sip of his milk. “I’m really not picky though, but the one with the jalapenos is good. Or the chili chicken.”  Jungkook scoots closer so he can scroll through the menu on your phone, hand brushing against yours.
This way, you get a clear view of the rose tattoo on his hand. It’s beautiful, detailed but still in a traditional style. It suits him, as do his other tattoos. Though this one has always stood out to you.
“I’m just going to get pepperoni,” you say after a while.
Jungkook sighs, then turns his head to whisper in your ear; “Boring.”
Startled, you shove him so hard he falls onto his back. “Don’t be such a child. I’m not going to make you eat it.”
When he sits back up, his shirt rises and reveals the edge of a narrow, toned waist. You look away, focusing on actually ordering the pizza. Jungkook really doesn’t have to be so casually attractive. He’s not even trying and you can’t keep your eyes off him, noticing something new every minute. A good reason to not spend any more time with him after this.
“Gimme.” He plucks your phone out of your hands so he can order his own pizza. With the utmost concentration, he scrolls and types in some things. No doubt using your pre-set credit card to pay for it. “Wait,” he says, sitting up straight. “Whoa, you’re friends with Yoongi? As in Min Yoongi? The guy who won this year’s mock court?”
Gasping, you dart over to grab the phone from him. “Don’t go through my messages!” With one hand on your chest, he manages to keep the device out of your reach. “Jungkook!”
His eyes move over the screen, reading your messages with the third year law student. “Why didn’t you just ask him for help, huh? He seems to like you, and that’s something. I don’t think Yoongi likes anybody.”
You try harder to grab your phone from his hands. It must look insane, your body bent over his, him trying to find ways to hold you off and keep the phone out of your reach. Somehow, you end up squashed between his—way too strong—thighs.
“Jungkook give me my phone back!” you whine.
Something on the screen makes him raise his eyebrows. “Are you two like—you know? Cuz I’ve heard some stuff and—”  
You shake your head, getting uneasy with the fact that he’s really reading your personal messages. “I don’t like Yoongi like that.”
Jungkook lifts his leg, using his knee to push you back. He’s got way too much strength in his body. “Okay, but I’m not sure that he knows that. He’s not a nice guy, you should steer clear of him.”
“Oh, and you would know how? It’s not like you’re such a gentleman.” Again, you try to jump for your phone, but he stops you in time by grabbing your wrist.
Face serious, he holds your gaze. “I’m not kidding. We run in the same circles. He’s a total asshole, you don’t want to get involved with him. You can do better.”
That sure is a way to silence you. You frown, settling back into your seat as Jungkook keeps scrolling through the chat. “I’m not into him, but he’s been texting me for a while. I was in his group for mock court.” Finally, you get your phone back, but your stomach feels uneasy looking at it. Perhaps Yoongi’s messages are a bit forward.
“I don’t know Yoongi well enough to be able to say for sure, but I know enough to tell you that he doesn’t talk to girls like you because he wants to be friends,” Jungkook says with a hand lingering on your thigh.
Way to make you feel good about yourself, Jeon. “What does that mean, girls like me?”
His face changes, eyes wide.
“What are you trying to say?” you press.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he leans forward onto his knees. “All I’m saying is that you don’t deserve to get played by some asshole who’s just trying to get into your pants.”
“Oh.” Is he being for real? He’s looking out for you? This is not how this is supposed to go. Jungkook shouldn’t be nice to you. He shouldn’t be helping you, or care about your wellbeing. He’s a dick and the two of you squabble and yell at each other. Yet, your chest warms at his words. Even if you weren’t looking to get together with Yoongi, it’s good to know he might have alternative motives. “Thank you.”
All he does is nod, before he grabs his laptop to resume where you guys left off. The awkwardness slowly dissipates as he takes you through the entire lineup thing again, just so you’ve got it down. After that you move onto the remaining subjects.
Today sure is strange. You never expected things to be so comfortable with Jungkook. Despite his exasperating personality and your on and off bickering, his presence is pleasant. It doesn’t take long for you to sink into the couch, drinking your third large cup of coffee.
Completely focussed on his monologue, you ask questions very sparingly, enraptured by him. You knew he was smart, he passes his classes with grades of 80% or higher for a reason. However, it’s different to see it in action.
Pizza arrives a little late, much to Jungkook’s dismay. Turns out he’s quite cranky when he gets hungry. He devours his pizza way faster than you can get through half of yours, and he’s quick to inch towards a slice from your box. You smack his hand away, reminding him of how he slandered you for your topping choice. He can have your leftovers from yesterday
“You call this pasta?” he questions in a disgusted tone, crouched down by the fridge
“Take it or starve. Your choice.”
He gets up, nose scrunched. “I’d rather starve, thanks. What exactly do you excel at? Since it’s not school, wit, or cooking.”
“Aim,” you spit, flicking a piece of pepperoni at him. It hits him straight in the cheek and you burst out into a fit of laughter. He stares at you in utter disbelief, removing the greasy piece of meat from his face. Tongue pressed to his cheek, he fights off his own smile—or an insult.
Eventually, he sits back down and goes over the remaining material while you eat. The end comes faster than you expected, his eyes darting to the clock.
“It’s getting late, I should probably go home.”
“What?” You pout. “How can you leave me to my own devices like this?!”
“Because I did what I could. I took you through all the material, now it’s up to you to try and memorise it. I’ve sent you my summaries and I’ll leave my flashcards here.” He grabs his things, meticulously stuffing them back into his backpack. With a heavy heart, you hand him his cap that had fallen to the floor.
Jungkook pushes his hair back, putting his cap on. He looks as nonchalant as he did when he came in. Backpack slung over one shoulder, hand shoved into his pocket. “Good luck. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“Yeah, I guess,” you mumble. “Thanks.”
“I’m glad my presence was enjoyed.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, I only endured you because I want to pass.” Part of that is true. Though, he wasn’t as bad to hang out with as you had originally assumed. Maybe it’s because his friends aren’t around to show off to. Or because he genuinely wanted to help. Which is still weird. “Good luck to you too.”
He waves you goodbye, opening up the door, only to be met with a gust of wind. The sound of rain enters your apartment. Water plummets from the sky by the bucket.
“Shit,” Jungkook peers outside, hesitating in the doorway. “If I don’t show up tomorrow morning, please assume that I have drowned.”
You would’ve laughed at the idea of him getting soaking wet any other day. He came here to help you study and now he has to walk home through the rain. No doubt he’s going to catch a cold dressed the way he is. Maybe you should listen to Taehyung and be the better person for once.
Getting up, you pull him back inside by the string of his backpack. “You can’t go out when it’s like that, you’ll get sick.”
He turns with a smile. “As much as I would like to see you squirm a little longer, I need to study too.”
“You study?”
“How else do you think I get good grades? Eat books for breakfast?”
You shrug. “We can study together tonight?”
Stepping closer, Jungkook forces you back inside. Almost nose to nose. Your heart skips a beat when his breath fans over your face. “Is this just a lame excuse from you to spend more time with me?”
“No. But I can only imagine the tragedy that will befall me if you catch a cold because you were out here helping me study.” You poke a finger into his chest. A grave mistake, it’s way firmer than you’d thought. “If I let you stay over, you no longer owe me one.”
“I’m sorry, but it really sounds like you just want me to stay.” Jungkook inches closer, backing you against the couch.
You open your mouth to say something when your phone rings. Looking over to where it lies on the couch, you see Taehyung’s name displayed. He can wait. You glance back up at Jungkook, who’s nearly chest to chest with you, and also has his eyes locked on the phone.
Then, he grins.
You act fast, snatching the phone from the couch and declining the call before he even gets a chance to touch it. Taehyung really doesn’t need to know that Jungkook is here.
Jungkook himself, however, picks up on this. He chuckles lightly, arching his eyebrow. “Are you trying to hide the fact that I’m here?’”
“I wouldn’t say I was trying to hide it, but I really don’t need my friends to think I’m hanging out with you.”
Jungkook drops his bag in the chair again, curious glint in his eyes. “And why is that?”
“Because,” you start, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t want to be associated with the likes of you.”
“What am I now? A villain?”
“No, you’re a stuck up fuckboy who does nothing but party and sleep with random girls and yet somehow still manages to pass all his classes. You’re annoying, egotistical, insufferable, pushy, invasive and disrespectful.”  You let out a deep breath. Yeah, maybe Jungkook’s been nice to you today, but he hasn’t changed.
He rolls his eyes. “Well then. I’ll have you know that you are nothing more than an average, boring girl struggling to get by. You’re opinionated, crass, entitled, standoffish, a bad listener, impossibly stubborn and a bit of an airhead.”  The words leave him as if they mean nothing. “It’s not like I’d want to be associated with the likes of you either. But here I am, stranded because of the storm. So you, my dear, are stuck with me tonight. You did offer for me to stay over, after all.”
“Whatever,” you breathe, “let’s just try to study.”
The two of you return to your previous position on the couch, but now, he faces you. With the flashcards in hand, Jungkook reaches into his bag and pulls out a container filled with Maltesers.
The rules are simple. You take turns asking each other questions. If you get it right, you get a chocolate, you get it wrong the person who asked the question gets a chocolate. Easy enough, right? Now that you feel a bit more steady with the material, you should be able to answer some questions correctly. Even if it’s just to rob Jungkook of the satisfaction of eating the entire thing on his own.
Two questions in and the bickering starts. Jungkook’s whining because he’s cold and you can’t turn up the radiator. But since he was the one to leave the door open, it’s his fault that it’s so cold in here to begin with. You’ve long hogged the blanket for yourself and you don’t intend on sharing it. It’s the only barrier that’s keeping you from touching his feet.
“Please,” he pouts. “I’m so cold, you can’t let me freeze to death in this fucking igloo.”
You pull the blanket closer. “No. It’s mine.”
He whines. “Come on, it’s big enough for both of us. It’ll be warmer if we share.”
“No.”
“You do realise I could just take it from you by force.”
“You would not.”
He sits up straighter, putting a hand on the edge of the fabric. “I’m giving you the option now. Either you share, or I’m pulling it from your cold, grabby hands. If you’re just afraid to snuggle with me, you can just say so.”
In order to not admit defeat, you give up half of the blanket so he can shove his legs under it. He extends his legs way past his side of the couch, his feet touching your lower back. You have no choice but to fold one of your legs over his, the other extended by his side. Indeed, it’s warmer this way.
“Now, where were we?” He flips to his next card. “Ah, yes. Weapon focus effect.”
That one you remember clearly. “It’s when a witness’ attention was so focused on the weapon present at the incident that they fail to remember any significant details about the perpetrator. It’s an involuntary process that often leads to inaccurate descriptions of the attackers.” You definitely got that one, no doubt. It’s easy.
Jungkook throws you a chocolate. “Good job, you’re doing well. It seems you listened to what I had to say after all.”
“I mean,” you say, popping the chocolate into your mouth. “I didn’t have that much of a choice but to listen, now did I?”
“You were visually undressing me the entire time. I had assumed your mind was busy with...other things.” He’s doing it on purpose, trying to get some type of reaction from you. Instead, you just bite your lip, not knowing what to say. “Oh, was I right? Tell me, what were you thinking about.”
You let out a sound, throwing a pillow at him. “I wasn’t thinking anything. And I wasn’t undressing you.”
“No, you were thinking of how big my head was, right? Would it,” he pauses, lifting up the blanket to peer underneath, “fit between your thighs?”
“What is wrong with you!” You scream, hands covering your face that quickly turns red.
He laughs in return. “You’re so easily flustered. I’d almost call it cute.”
Peering through your fingers, you frown. “Almost?”
“Yeah, almost. Not quite, because you’re still you.”
In a surge of confidence, you sit up straight and grab the stack of cards again. Not looking at him as you speak. “How about, instead of imagining what I taste like, you tell me what a flashbulb memory is.”
Inches away from choking on his spit, Jungkook doesn’t manage to come up with a smart retort. He just answers your questions with pursed lips and distant eyes. It’s correct though, so you get to throw him a chocolate. Which of course, he catches with his mouth. Show off.
It goes on for another while, storm raging outside. With the winds turned, you can now clearly hear the pattering against your window. You can’t imagine what Jungkook would’ve done had he been walking through this storm. It’s only getting worse.
Time ticks by fast. Soon, Jungkook is left with one last flashcard in his hands. And you are determined to get that last chocolate. He smirks to himself, probably aware that you don’t know the answer to this. But if anything, you are determined to prove him wrong.
“Tell me,” he trails, “what is the difference between compliance and suggestibility?”
You know this. He’s explained it three times. So you’re confident in your next words. “Compliance is when a witness giving a testimony willingly accepts a suggestion but is aware that the suggestion is wrong. Suggestibility is when they believe that the suggestion is right and thus take it for the truth. Both are problematic, but suggestibility is harder to expose.”
Jungkook tuts. “You got them switched around.”
“Huh?! That can’t be right!”
“Sure is, the last chocolate is mine.”
You snatch the bag away before he can grab it. “I don’t think so. Let me see that card.”
“Are you accusing me of lying?”
“For chocolate? I sure am. Let me see.”  You crawl over to his side, squishing yourself between him and the couch. “Jungkook,” you whine when he covers the card with his hand, “let me see. My grade depends on this.”
He chuckles at you. “It does not. I’m confident that you will pass regardless.”
You try to pry the card out of his hand, but it’s no use. The grip he has on the thing is too strong. He manages to hold you down without even breaking a sweat. It’s a few beats before you can realise that you’re now entirely pressed up against him. You can feel the muscles in his thighs shift, the soft skin of his arm against yours
“Let me have the chocolate and I will show you,” he whispers.
Flushed, you stop struggling. “Whatever, I know I’m right.”
Jungkook then reveals the card to you, showing you that you indeed, were right. “I’m glad you’re finally confident in your abilities. That’s the key to passing a test.”
Has he really been testing you this entire time? That’s sure one way to do the trick. Without replying, you sink into his side. Silently enjoying his warmth. It’s comfortable to sit like this, now that it’s night and the apartment continues to get colder. You don’t mind, really. Inhaling slightly, you catch a whiff of his fresh floral scent. It’s mixed with a sharp edge that suits him well.
As Jungkook grabs the stack of cards you got wrong to revise them, you don’t move. The two of you just get comfortable like that. It’s easier to see the cards the way anyhow. You can just look at them together. Plus, you’re starting to feel a little sleepy and don’t want to move. He seems equally as content, just reciting the questions and explaining why you got them wrong.
“Okay so,” you say, pointing at something on the card. “It’s not so much an issue on the witness’ side as it is on the police’s?”
Jungkook nods, looking at you. “They’re the ones leading the witness. It’s not the witness’ fault that they take on their opinion.”
You hum, meeting his gaze. He doesn’t falter, almost as if he’s searching your eyes. “Something wrong?”you ask, voice hushed, goosebumps appearing on the back of your neck. There’s a mole right below his bottom lip which is plump and looks soft. His top lip is more defined, making for a cute pout. The more you look, the more you notice all his moles. On his nostril, his cheek, his ear.
“No,” he answers eventually. Voice strained. “I think you have a pimple growing between your brows.”
“Get lost!” You shove your elbow into his side, pulling a pained groan from him. “You’re so stupid.”
For a moment he’s quiet, just rubbing his side and shifting so he can get more comfortable. One of his legs falls off the couch, the other still between yours. “You really hate me, huh?”
At any other given moment, you would’ve replied with yes. But now, it’s laden. Is he asking you that seriously? It’s one thing to tell Taehyung you can’t stand him, or to yell it in his face when he’s being a brat, but you can’t literally say it to him like this. Why, you don’t really know. The expectant look makes your stomach tighten.
“Why are you saying it like that?”
He shrugs. “No reason in particular. Just because,” he gestures at your bodies, “it doesn’t seem like you mind being around me that much. If anything I’d say that,” he stops, leaning in close to your ear. You can feel the barely-there graze of his lips. “You like being around me.”
You bite your tongue, looking up to find his eyes darker than before. Cocking his head to the side, he awaits your answer. You’re not willing to give him the satisfaction. There’s no need to stroke his already big ego any more. Yes, this is more pleasant than you’d expected. Yes, he’s nice to be around. But... “You’re still a pain in the ass. Sorry.” With that, you had expected him to look away, but he doesn’t. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and back up to your eyes.
“So are you,” he teases, lips stretching into a lopsided grin.
Within a heartbeat, your lips are touching. Jungkook groans. You gasp, pulling him closer. Closed eyes, your heart beats a million miles an hour, revelling in the feeling of his mouth against yours. How soft his lips are. The trailing of his fingertips up your neck so he can crane your head back.
He comes to life, parting with a brief look into your eyes and a deep breath. Then, diving in full force. Jungkook kisses you like he’s been waiting to—like he’s hungry for it. You can barely believe that it’s happening, still trying to register that he’s actually kissing you. That it feels this good.
Your entire body kicks into gear when he bites at your bottom lip. Shifting your body to face his, you wrap a hand around the back of his neck. Returning his fervor, your mouths part and tongues meet in a desperate clash. Jungkook lets out a deep, guttural sound that makes you shiver. He’s skilled, tongue swiping over yours in a way that you can barely keep up with. Deliciously hot, just edging on sloppy. There’s no room for pauses, no time for thoughts.
Gaining purchase against the armrest, you swing a leg over his to sit in his lap. Jungkook’s leaning back still, pawing at your waist now that he’s got full access. You take full advantage of the position, crashing into him and devouring him. Biting at his lips, sucking his tongue into your mouth. The feeling is nearly euphoric paired with the rough, firm touches of his hands all over your body.
He touches anything he can find. Gripping onto your thighs and ass, slipping under your tank top and sweater to graze the skin on your back. Sparks erupt everywhere.
Mid-kiss, he sits up. Twisting so he can firmly plant both his feet on the found. It’s the angle he needs to pull you right against him. Your hips make contact and you moan. He’s not quite hard but he’s certainly getting there and the thought makes your head spin.
“Fuck,” you gasp, breaking away for air while he grids his hips up into yours. “Jungkook—”
“No talking,” he mouths against your jawline. “More kissing,” his voice is so  raspy that it’s barely recognisable. Almost a growl.
You push his cap off. Grabbing his face with both hands and kissing him firmly. Angling his head back the same way he had done to you. Kissing him is way better than you could’ve ever imagined. He’s rougher, stronger, harder against your body. You need more.
Slipping your hands under his shoulder, you lift it. Tracing the hard lines of his chest, feeling how he jumps under your touch. It empowers you, makes you bolder. Your fingers reach a pert nipple, brushing over it only to hear him moan in the back of his throat. God, he keeps on getting better and better. Sensitive it seems, as you roll the bud between your fingers. His hips buck up into yours. Fully hard at this point, he must start to get uncomfortable in those jeans.
Jungkook’s resolve with kissing you slows, needing air. He breaks away with a smirk, cheeks flushed and panting. Holding your gaze steady, he pulls his shirt over his head in one smooth motion. Revealing planes of unmarred skin and tattoos you had yet to discover.
You take no shame in staring, reaching out to trace the dream catcher on his shoulder. Moving along the lines of thread and feathers that reach his elbow.
“Like what you see?” he whispers, pushing you closer with a hand on your lower back just so he can kiss your neck. You shiver, legs spreading. Leaning your head back to give him enough room to mark you up. The thought alone makes you whimper. “What’s that?” he mumbles, licking a hot stripe up your throat.
Fingers digging into his shoulders, you grind down onto him. He moans in response. “Stop being so smug.”
Jungkook throws his head back, looking at you through his lashes as you gyrate your hips more firmly. His body on full display. “I don’t know, it seems like you’re into it.”
“For fucks sake, shut up and kiss me.”
He listens, capturing your mouth with his. Everything moves fast after that. Between tongues and mouths clashing, Jungkook rids you of your sweater. He kisses down your neck and throat, leaving marks and enjoying the way that you quiver for him. You’re soaking through your leggings at this point. Jungkook’s doing no better.
When he pulls away, you take the opportunity to kiss down his neck, collarbones and chest. To get off his lap and kneel between his legs. His eyes widen as you do so. A hand immediately comes up to push your hair aside, tipping your chin upwards. When he traces his thumb over your mouth, you part your lips and swirl your tongue around the digit and bite down, making him hiss.
Spreading his legs to accomodate you, he relaxes against the cushions. Just like little pricks on the edge of your consciousness, you feel the nerves. You question your skills when you undo his jeans and pull them down his legs. Yet, the hazy look in his eyes tells you that he’s going to like this no matter what. He all but arches into you when you palm him through his underwear. Rock hard and leaking through the fabric, you don’t want to wait any longer to finally get your mouth on him. To hear him moan for you.
So you reach past his waistband, foregoing any teasing and pull the fabric down. His cock slaps up against his stomach, making him hiss again. The sight is gorgeous. Jungkook with his head thrown back, hair a mess, chest heaving and flushed even though you’ve barely touched him. It’s satisfying to know you did that to him.
You sit down on your knees, holding him in one hand and go slow. Mouthing at him first, giving him just a taste of what’s to come. He doesn’t hold back for you, reddened lips parting with all the noises he lets out. When you take the tip into your mouth, he jolts—groans and reaches to anchor himself on your shoulder. You have one hand on his thigh, the other around the base. That way, you steady yourself when you sink down on him.
“Don’t—Fuck, keep going.” A gentle hand winds into your hair, guiding you further onto his cock. You’re not usually one to do this but, seeing him feel this good spurs you on. It makes you want to take all of him. You don’t stop when he hits the back of your throat, gag reflex kicking in. He moans at the feeling, so you try to swallow. “Shit, fuck, don’t do that. Your mouth,” he pants, “so good.”
Feeling his grip loosen, you pull up, taking a deep breath when you let him out of your mouth. Spit dribbles from your mouth to the head, tears sting at the corners of your eyes. You look up, giving him the full vision, and you don’t look away when you sink down again.
You’re so wet. Core aching but unable to find any sort of relief. You end up trying to grind your hips without any payoff. Meanwhile, you start a steady rhythm. Hollowing out your cheeks and using your tongue on the underside. It works. You have him moaning out your name in seconds. His hand tightens in your hair again, not to force you, but spurring you on to take him a little deeper each time. Right until your nose hits his stomach. You hold there, to let him feel the flex of your throat one more time. Just so he remembers it. Then you take your rhythm back up, a little faster, a little tighter. Your jaw starts to hurt, but it’s worth it. To feel his thighs start to tremble and his stomach clench. How he tightens his hold on your hair, moans pitching every time you pass your tongue right under the head.
Your lungs are burning, but you can’t help but feel addicted to him. Sucking him harder and feeling him near that edge. You dig your nails into his thigh, breathing in through your nose. Jungkook’s hip start moving just a little, enough to startle you.
“‘M close,” he moans. “Fuck, can I—in your mouth. Shit.” He runs a hand through his hair, browns furrowed deep. When he opens his eyes you shiver. His lids are heavy, pupils blown and cheeks red. Just like his lips—he sinks his teeth into his bottom one when you resume.
He takes it as a yes, unable to stop his hips from pushing up. You let him take control, holding yourself still, hands on his thighs. Jungkook’s breathing picks up, moans mixing into one drawn out sound. You meet his eyes, mouth stuffed with his cock. That’s all he needed. He twitches and cums into your mouth. The taste is bitter and harsh on your tongue. You close your eyes, focused on the feeling of his body trembling. You’re the one who did that to him.
When he lets you go and you pull off him, he gives you a fuck-out yet expectant look. A cocky arch of his eyebrow when he sees your bulged cheeks. Waiting for you to swallow.
Instead, you reach for his mug that sits on the edge of the table and spit into it. Flinching at the leftover taste.
Jungkook nudges you with his knee. “Why are you like this?”
You set his cup down and reach for your own, take a big gulp of now-cold coffee. “I’m not swallowing your jizz.” The thought of doing that alone makes you want to puke.
“Don’t call it that.”
Rolling your eyes, you stand up on wobbly legs. “I just had it in my mouth, so I can call it whatever I want.”
Jungkook mimics your eyeroll. “Fine.” He pats your thigh. “Pants off.”
“What?”
He lies down on the couch. Surely he doesn’t expect you to ride him after you just fucked up your throat for him? What an ass. “You heard me, naked now. Chop chop.” He motions for you to hurry up and you just give him a blank stare. “Ugh, come here.”  Jungkook sits up just slightly again and pulls you closer by your waistband. He gives you a brief look. “Unless you don’t wanna get naked?”
You chuckle, pushing at his hands to get him to slide your leggings off. A hand slips between your thighs to touch you. Rubbing you through the fabric, your knees nearly buckle. He’s nonchalant about it, lying back, eyes focused between your legs. Yet, he’s too accurate, easily finding his target.
“Jungkook,” you whine, grabbing onto the back of the couch.
He smirks. “Let’s take these off too.” The snap of your panties to your hip pulls you back. You shove them down, taken aback by the feeling of a hand grabbing your thigh. You’re about to question him, when he scoots further back on the couch and lifts your leg past his body. “Have a seat.”
Mind absolutely blank, you let him guide you to sit over his face. You’re dripping and he can see it—feel it probably from the way you just grazed his chest. A small moan leaving your lips when he reaches up to kiss your stomach.
“Don’t be shy,” he chuckles. “I’ve got you.”
You shift forward, holding onto the back of the couch. His hands come up to your thighs, pulling you even higher so he can slot his mouth onto your core. You can’t help but moan.
Noisy. Jungkook is so noisy. He sucks your lips into his mouth, teethes at them until you’re shaking. You struggle to hold your hips still, the need to grind into him too strong. And he does nothing to stop you. No, he urges you on. Looking up at you with those big eyes and nodding against you. Jungkook opens his mouth, tongue darting out to tease at your clit just briefly. Then, the reigns are all yours.
He holds you by the hips so you can hesitantly start moving. You shiver. It feels so good; the wet warmth of his mouth against your core. He follows you, hands pawing at your thighs, hips, and ass. With eyes closed, Jungkook eats you out like he’s been dying to do it. There’s no teasing, no playing—he’s straight to the point. You move over his tongue as he sucks on your cunt, nibbling and flicking whenever he gets the chance. Anything else is irrelevant. The sight of his head blissed out between your thighs is all you can focus on.
The pleasure spikes, shooting up your spine and filling you with warmth. It’s embarrassing how fast he gets you on the edge. How good he is. The way he occasionally stops you to take that bundle of nerves between his lips and suck on it until you’re screaming—it’s mind blowing. Your entire body is on fire, sweat drips down your back. His name falls from your lips in cries that echo throughout the room. Louder than the storm raging against the window.
“Jungkook, I’m—” you pant, unable to finish your sentence with the moans that he pulls from you. Incapable of thinking from the second he swirls his tongue around your entrance and presses inside. You halt all your movements. Nails dug deeply into the couch, you reach for his hair with your other hand. He moans when you grip it tightly, his own fingers tightening around your hips. “Don’t stop.”
He alternates between fucking his tongue into you and sucking on your clit. The intensity is almost too much. The irregularity keeps you on your toes and has you nearly teetering over the edge. You just need to—Jungkook reaches behind you and plunges two fingers into your sopping core. The sensation of being filled along with his tongue flicking over you has your eyes rolling back. Everything goes white.
You double over on the couch, unable to keep yourself up and smothering him in the process. Trembling in his hold, he helps you slowly ride out your high. Short, gentle movements against his mouth. The rocking of your hips is as involuntary as the way your body keeps shaking when he lets you go. Breath high in your throat, you chuckle.
“Good god.” You fall down when he slips out from underneath you.
As you twist towards him, Jungkook wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, crawling over you. All your limbs still feel like jelly, your mind swimming. “Yeah, that good?”
You hum, eyes closing. Wanting to lie down, you turn on your back, hearing a sharp thud.
“Shit,” Jungkook gasps. He’s grasping his chin with a laugh.
A few seconds pass before you feel the soreness in your knee. “Ugh, I’m so sorry,” you whine, reaching up to touch him. But he has other plans. Jungkook surges down smiling, pressing your mouths together for the first time in what feels like hours. The stickiness on his face doesn’t go unnoticed. The reminder that he just ate you out, that he’s the one who made you cum that hard. You moan when you taste yourself on his tongue.
He kisses you deeply, smiling against your mouth. You finally get rid of your tank top, now fully naked. He mouths over your chest, twisting your nipples, spreading your legs so that he can fit between them. Pressing himself against you, hard and waiting. “Can you go again?” he asks, pulling away and searching your eyes.
You still feel floaty, but the sensation of his hard cock pressing against your thigh has you quivering. “Yeah.”  You’re aching to feel him inside, so you tilt your hips up towards him. Spreading your legs wider and inviting him.
“Wait,” you blurt, eyes flying open and pressing a hand against his chest. He stops with his hand around his dick, just about ready to slide home. “Condom.”
Jungkook curses, looking around the room. He locates his jeans that lie in a pile with his shirt and boxers. The fact that he’s actually got a condom in there is uncanny.
“You’ve got to be kidding me?”  You joke.
He shrugs. “I wore these jeans while going out last night.”
“You’re disgusting!” You slap his arm lightly, but he just chuckles in return. He knows just as well as you do that you’re waiting for him to fuck you. The clenching of your core attests to that.
No time is wasted, Jungkook puts the condom on and lines himself up. “You good?”  
You nod. “Just go slow.”
The slight oversensitivity just makes it feel even better. He stretches you out so perfectly. You feel every inch, every stutter of his hips as he goes deeper. Way deeper than you’d expected. Until his hips meet yours and he curses, burying his face into your neck.
“You feel good,” he mumbles, kissing your skin.
“You too.” Trailing your fingers up his back, you wait for your body to adjust to him. To feel yourself relax and pull for more. That tell-tale need for movement, friction. Jungkook holds steady, hips barely moving. “Go,” you say when your stomach clenches. “Move. Fuck me like you mean it.”
Jungkook growls, grasping onto the couch. Pulling out and slamming back in full force. You slide up the cushions, so fast you grasp onto him for support. Fingernails digging into his back, legs wrapping around his waist, you keen at the pleasure. Each thrust is better than the last. Harder, more precise.
Your back arches off the couch, mouth agape. Pleasure is constant, like your body is vibrating with it. Jungkook mouths at your neck, sucking, biting—teeth playfully tugging at your ear just to whisper something dirty that you can barely comprehend. Your mind can’t make sense of anything but his dick pumping inside of you. His hips slapping against yours and his mouth against your skin.
Until he kisses you. His mouth messily connecting with yours, movements slowing. With a hand on your ass, he hikes you up the couch, angling your body so that he can press your legs to your chest. Just like that, he picks up. Starting off slow, still kissing you, tongue laving over yours almost sweetly. You shiver, the slow drag of his cock as delicious as the harsh assault. He changes angles, just a hair, but it’s enough for him to graze that part inside of you that makes you see stars.
Throwing your head back, you moan. Fingers sliding through the sweat on his back, up to tangle into his hair, gripping tight. He groans. Head falling onto your shoulder, hips stuttering against yours.
“You like that?” you whisper into his ear, tongue darting out to flick at a pierced lobe.
He nods, teeth sinking into your shoulder as you pull hard. Hips picking up, chasing the pleasure.
Hearing him moan like that. So unabashed and loud, only adds to your pleasure. Toes curling, you close your eyes and let your head fall back. Hips meeting him thrust for thrust, helping him reach even deeper inside of you. To hit that spot every single time. Jungkook has perfected that balance between smooth and hard. Never slamming rough enough to jolt you, yet firm enough to make you capable of sounds you were unaware of. Rhythmic, never stopping or slowing. So constant you can’t do anything but fall into motion with him.
Bodies syncing up. Hands finding places to touch.  Nipples, lips, thighs, waists, hair. He is holding you spread open for him, your thighs starting to ache. But it’s worth it, because soon, you feel the pleasure spike.
Your stomach tightens, tingling at the base of your spine. “Jungkook,” you moan.
He answers by looking up, lips bitten red and parted.
“Can you,” you can’t finish the sentence, moaning and closing your eyes. Tapping his hand on your thigh is enough though. He releases you, instead pulling your legs around his waist. Closer like this, his chest slides over yours. It gives you just enough space to reach between your bodies and touch yourself.
He looks down at the sensation, cursing at the sight of your fingers playing with your clit while his cock slides in and out of you. The angle doesn’t let you do the same, but you can hear the slick slide clearly. You can feel it dripping down your ass.
The added pleasure is enough to put you on the edge, fast. “I’m gonna—Jungkook!” you yelp when he leans down and sucks a nipple into his mouth. “Fuck.” One hand between your bodies, the other holding his hair.
In seconds, your high hits you. Hard. Your entire body locks up, so much that Jungkook lets out a strangled moan. Fluttering around him he joins you in your peak. Thrusts stilling, pressed deep inside of you. He spills into the condom as you rut your hips, still coming down.
Spent bodies collapse onto the couch, Jungkook refusing to pull out immediately. He’s basking in the feeling of your aftershock, walls still clenching ever so slightly. You can’t blame him. It feels good. Having him inside of you as he lies down, pulling your hips against his, kissing you. His mouth is tender, laving over yours without much hurry. A hand combing through your hair, softly humming, smiling.
He finally pulls out, leaving you feeling empty and slightly sore. Grunting, he ties the condom and makes a show of throwing it into the same mug you used earlier. It makes him grin.
“I’m throwing that mug out.”
“You really don’t have to.”
“Oh, I really do. It’s been tainted beyond remedy. I’m not drinking from that, ever again.”
Jungkook presses his nose against your temple, still grinning like a fool. “You’re so weird.”
You snort. “Says the guy who just three-point shot a condom into a mug full of cum.”
No reply follows, only comfortable silence. Jungkook and you just lie like that for a while. Bodies coming down, breaths evening out, enjoying each other. Slightly sticky with sweat, you let him grab the blanket and throw it over you. Your heart swells.
Could it be possible that you’re not the only one who feels something more? Deep down, you’ve always known he’s not just an asshole. You’ve just never seen that side of him before today. All this time you’ve tried to ignore it. To not let yourself fall for that trap. A guy like him isn’t supposed to be good. Yet, maybe you were wrong about him. And maybe, he feels the same way about you.
Taehyung isn’t gonna let you hear the end of this, but you can’t help but wonder if there is an opportunity for more between you and Jungkook?
“You know,” he says after a while, “We should definitely do this again.”
Your heart shatters. That’s it. Reality crashing down on you. Of course Jungkook doesn’t feel anything for you. He’s just out for sex and you should’ve known.
You scramble up from the couch. Jungkook sputters out something you can’t quite catch, trying to grab a hold of you. “Don’t touch me,” you spit. “I can’t believe you.” Grabbing your panties and pulling them on alongside your sweater, you put distance between the two of you. “Is that what I am to you? Just another cunt to fuck?”
Jungkook’s hastily putting on his boxers, standing up, eyes wide. He opens his mouth, but you don’t care to listen.
“That’s why you were really here, right? To get into my pants. That’s why you had the condom on you.” It’s all falling together now. How could you have been so stupid? “All the fucking whining about Yoongi, but you’re no better than him.”
“Stop,” he rushes, shaking his head. “Listen to me—“
“Don’t!” you call when he reaches for you, grabbing you by the wrists and forcing you to look at him. You try to wriggle away, but he’s holding you steady.
“Listen,” he tries again. “I—“
You shove at his chest. “Let me go, Jungkook. Fucking let me go.”
He obeys, arms falling limply beside his body. Expression going soft when he sees you’re crying. “Please hear me out.”
“No, Jungkook. You don’t get it. I have feelings for you. Real, non-sexual feelings. I don’t just want to be another girl on your checklist.” There it is. Out with the truth. Your breaths come out short and ragged. Harshly wiping your tears, you grab your leggings off the floor. Jungkook just stares at you. “I was stupid to fall for this act.” It’s true. He doesn’t date. Sex. That’s it. You should’ve known, you should’ve protected yourself. Should’ve never let him weasel his way into your heart.
Jungkook deflates, head falling, hair shielding his eyes. “I’m sorry that you think of me this way.”
What a pretentious prick. “Forget it Jungkook, I’m not buying it.” You look outside, rain still pouring down the window. “You know where everything is. I want you out before sunrise.” You turn your back on him and storm into your bedroom, slamming the door closed.
The contents of your cabinet click, something falling to the floor. Your tears only get worse. Feeling the cold of your room wrap around your worn out body. To feel the remnants of him still cling to your skin. The marks, the soreness, and the scent. God, you’re so dumb. You want to call Taehyung, to hear his voice and have him comfort you. But it’s two in the morning and his sleep schedule is shaky enough as it is.
So you just opt for a shower, stripping and getting under the hot spray to wash away whatever you can. You douse yourself in your favourite clementine scented body wash. But it does nothing to clean the fresh tears. Nothing can. The realisation that your feelings for Jungkook had gone way past crush hurts. You let your guard down and he drove a knife into your back.
Sleep, you think. You need sleep. You need to rid yourself of these thoughts and feelings. Wake up tomorrow and just pretend like this never happened. Even if you know it’ll be evident. You can pretend.
You dry off and brush your teeth. Three times to be precise. Ending up in bed wrapped in your favourite teddy sweater, warm and cosy. Your chest still aches with tears that no longer fall. Heart heavy. Like you miss him close to you.
There’s not much you can do but close your eyes and will your mind to shut off. You don’t want to think about him anymore.
The creaking of your door opening startles you right as you’re drifting off. He better be joking. You refuse to move, holding tightly onto the blanket, hoping that he’s just checking in on you and will leave. You hear the door click closed, and then the bed dips.
You hold your breath. Jungkook doesn’t speak. He lifts the covers so he can scoot under them and pull you against his chest. It’s not a tight hold, but it’s there. A strong arm draped over your waist, legs grazing yours as you pretend to be asleep. The feather-light gaze of his lips against your neck makes fresh tears appear in your eyes.
“Jungkook,” you croak.
He shushes you. “I know you’re upset with me. I just don’t want you to be alone when you’re feeling like this. We can talk in the morning—if you want. For now, just get some rest.”
It’s true. You shouldn’t be alone, crying yourself to sleep. Even if he’s the one that caused it. You just don’t want to let yourself trust the gesture. He’s probably trying to make you feel less angry. Even if it doesn’t work, it’s appreciated, ill intent or not. Having someone here is calming, letting you fall into an unruly slumber.
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The next morning, you wake up in his embrace. Closer, back pressed to his chest. His nose nuzzles into your hair. It’s so nice. Warm. Soothing. He’s a good cuddler.
Then, your entire body stiffens. The previous night coming back to you in flashes. Your bodies entwined on the couch, moans bouncing off the wall. You swallow tightly, lifting his arm.
“Hey,” Jungkook whispers. He must’ve already been awake, reaching for your hand and giving it a small squeeze. “Should I go?”
Yes. “No,” you mumble. You need answers. To make the story whole before you force him out of your life for good.
“Do you want to—”
“Why do you always act like such a dick around me?”
Jungkook takes a deep breath. “Because you won’t give me the time of day otherwise.”
You still, practically holding your breath so that you can hear every word.
“Every time I’m nice to you, you pretend like I don’t exist. When I push your buttons,” he sighs, “that’s when I get your attention.”
Attention? He wants your attention? Your mind’s running circles, afraid to turn around and see the look in his eyes and get swayed. Feel remorse for the pain you hear lined in his voice. That you can feel in the trembling of his hand encasing yours.
“Can you at least say something?” he asks.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
He sits up, the mattress shifting and your eyes closing tightly.  “Sit up, please.”  Grabbing your arm, Jungkook gets you to reluctantly sit up and face him. Though you won’t look at him, eyes on your knees that nearly touch his. You notice that he’s still in his boxers, but he’s at least wearing a shirt. He doesn’t force you to look at him when he starts speaking again. “I want to be honest with you.” He toys with the edge of your sheets. “But if you’re not going to listen to the whole story it’s not worth telling you.”
Your heart hammers. Tears threaten to fall. Taking a deep breath gives away your nerves. You want to tell him he can’t ask that of you. That he doesn’t deserve that. But if there’s even a slight chance of a misunderstanding—something your heart hopes for—you have to hear him out. Even if it’ll hurt. “Okay.”
“Thank you,” he mumbles. He’s nervous too. Breath shaky like his body, nearly curled in on himself. You never thought you’d see him this vulnerable. “Honestly, when I first met you, I was intrigued by you because I couldn’t have you. You just held up your nose every time I as much as looked your way. It made me want to know more about you. And the moment I did, it was over for me. I realised that you’re not just opinionated, crass, and entitled. You’re smart, a hard worker, and you’re such a good friend.”
You finally dare to look up. To see the desperate look in his eyes as he pauses. Shocked.
“I admire you,” he whispers.
“What?” you blurt. “You’re the one with the straight A’s, not me.”
He shakes his head in defeat, biting his lip and looking away. “The only reason I’m getting straight A’s is because I’ve taken these classes before. I’m not like you, I don’t work hard. I should be studying like you.”
You frown. “What do you mean, you’ve done them before? Do you already have a law degree?”
Jungkook avoids your eyes. “When I got out of high school at the age of seventeen, I got into a big university with a scholarship. The full ride. But I was stupid,” he croaks. “I wanted to fully enjoy the college ride. So I studied just enough to get by and dedicated the rest of my time to partying.” He says it like he’s disgusted with himself. Muscles in his neck tightening as he swallows impending tears. “I got arrested for underage drinking and lost the entire scholarship. Everything I had worked so hard for, down the drain.”
The words leave him pained, the regret for his past decisions clear in his eyes. Yet, he’s still here, studying this degree you know most students can’t afford. You have a scholarship too.
“So yeah,” he breathes. “I wish I had a little more discipline like you. I admire that you’re able to put school first. As much as I pretend to hate you just to get your attention, I like being around you. You’re a positive influence on people, including me.”
“So it’s my fault? For judging you?”
Jungkook’s eyes widen. “No, not at all. As I said, I was being an ass on purpose because I was curious about you. But when I got to know you,” he cocks his head to the side, “feelings happened. I just couldn't find a way to show you the better sides of myself. Which is partially why I showed up yesterday.”
“Huh,” you frown. So he did have ulterior motives? “How does that change anything? You still showed up here to sleep with me.” He’s talking in circles. You feel remorse for him, but you tell yourself to stay strong. His past doesn’t excuse his actions.
“I really wasn’t planning on sleeping with you. I wouldn’t do that to you. There just was no other way to get you to spend time alone with me. I wanted to show you a better side of me, hoping that you’d realise I’m not all bad and maybe would give me a chance.” A chance to what? “I like you,” he adds when you don’t respond, “a lot.”
What? He can’t be serious. After everything that happened.
“But I also care about you. I like being around you—bickering included. I genuinely wanted to help. I know how hard it is to start again, I didn’t want to see you go through that.”
You go silent. Trying to think over his words and not see the bad. To believe that he means it. He did help you after all. He studied with you for hours, never insinuating anything sexual. He was nice, comforting and believed in you. You never asked for any of that. And after all, you kissed him too. You could’ve stopped it. If he had just wanted sex, he wouldn’t be here.
But he is. “Jungkook, I’m so sorry,” you say, grabbing his hand.
“I’m the one who’s sorry. For making you feel used. I should’ve just been honest with you.” Jungkook laces your fingers together. “I know it was a dick move on my side to sleep with you. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”
“I played as much of a part in it as you did. So let’s just—how about we call it even. Bury the hatchet?” You cock your head to the side, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. It won’t be easy, you’ll need to do a lot of thinking, but your heart wants to forgive him. To see more of his gentler side.
He nods, lifting up your hand and pressing his lips against your knuckles. “Sounds good to me.”
The two of you get up after that, even if it’s a little awkward. It’s weird to not be bickering with him. You’re surprised that he actually cleaned the living room last night. There’s not a trace of him left aside from his clothes that are carefully folded on the table. Even that mug is gone.
“What do you want to eat?” you ask, reaching to the top shelve for another mug.
Jungkook comes closer. “Just coffee is okay for now.”
You turn, almost bumping into his chest, blushing heavily. Now that he knows you have feelings for him, he’s enjoying himself just a little too much. Smiling at you while you’re making coffee and some cereal for yourself. You eat in silence, browsing through your phone.
It’s when you get up to clean, that Jungkook speaks again.
“Hey,” he says, grabbing you back by the waist.
“Hi?” You turn around in his grip.
“You know,” he starts, hand coming up to brush your hair behind your ear. “As much as I regret what I said yesterday, I did mean it.”
“What?” You chuckle lightly. “You want to do that again?”
He nods, and you catch a faint redness dusting his cheeks. “I do, a lot of times, if you want.”
You laugh, twisting away from him to put the dishes in the sink. “If that is your way of you asking me to be your girlfriend, Jungkook, then I must say you’re not quite hitting the right angle. Seeing what happened yesterday.” He can’t seriously be thinking you just want him for sex after all that. You start cleaning, even if it’s just to avoid having to look at him and admit that you’re shy. Thinking about what happened last night—the good parts.
Sighing, he turns off the tap that you had just turned on.
“Hey!” You turn it back on, only to have him shut it off again. “What do you want?”
“I’m not saying that I want you to be my girlfriend. I don’t think I’m ready for that just yet.” He leans in, brushing his nose against yours, searching your eyes like he’d done the night before. Like he’s waiting for permission.
You couldn’t resist him even if you tried. So you kiss him, just briefly. “Then what are you ready for, big boy?”
He laughs. “For starters, I would love to take you out for dinner after the exam that’s in,” he looks up at the clock, “six hours.”
You groan, throwing your head back. “Don’t remind me.” It’s probably a wiser decision to take some time to think. See how you feel about this, but dinner won’t hurt. “I will still need some time to think about,” you gesture between you two, “whatever this is.”
“Oh,” his face falls. “Yeah, I get that. I just thought that—since you said you have feelings for me too.” Jungkook pouts. He fucking juts out his bottom lip and you haven’t seen anything more endearing in your entire life. Your heart does a weird little flip, and you know that you’re a goner. Even more so than you had been before last night.
Now you know that he is good. That he is worthy of a chance. So why not give it? Why would you sit around and let your mind think all sorts of negative things about him if you can give him the chance to prove to you that he’s a great guy. As he said, it’s just a date. Not a label. Yet.
When he turns away, you pull him back by his hand, slamming your lips to his. He grunts, both hands coming up to thread through your hair. The kiss isn’t deep. It isn’t anything like the way you kissed last night. It sweeps you off your feet, so tender and warm. When he pulls away, you’re out of breath and you can see the adoration in his eyes. You hope he can see it in yours.
Then, he pinches your butt.
You push at his chest. “Thanks for reminding me that you’re still an annoying brat.”
He chuckles, giving you a peck on the lips. “But you like me that way.”
“Sadly,” you grumble, winding your arms around his neck. “I do.”
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Thanks to: @/fallinforkoo @knjkitten​ @yoongs-jeontae​ @wintaejk​ @guksweet​ @rynofpentacles​ @mikroparadise​ @jeonggukkiepabo​ @softlyjiminie​ Requested by: @/fallinforkoo + @hornyjailbonk​ + 3x Anonymous Taglist: @jiminskth​ @teresaisla​​ @yeontanie21​​ @tessanator97​​ @ladyartemesia​ @dayjeons​​ @djasheyash99​​ @the-rise-of-bangtan-boyz​​ @bbangtanlove95​ @zeharilisharaban​ @jungkooksgoodgirl​​ @topanga27​​ @pjmochii​​ @iwanttohitmyself​​ @veryuniquenamegoeshere​​ @bel-abysse​​ @jiminsreads​​ @jungkookspromise​​
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© GguksGalaxy 2020 This is a work of fiction and is in no way meant to give an accurate representation of the idols included. Please do not steal, copy, redistribute or take uncredited inspiration from my work. 
3K notes · View notes
ironicarmy · 10 months ago
Text
fairy of shampoo | jjk (m)
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↣ pairing: jungkook x reader
↣ genre: slice of life, fluff, smut
↣ rating: +18
↣ word count: 6.7k
↣ warnings: shower sex, unprotected sex, oral, risky positions lmao don’t try this at home
↣ playlist: home - philip philips // i’m yours - jason mraz // exist for love - aurora // to build a home - the cinematic orchestra // fairy of shampoo - txt // k. - cigarettes after sex // nothing’s gonna hurt you baby - cigarettes after sex // gravity - coldplay
↣ summary: Sundays are for relaxation, house cleaning, and happiness.
↣ notes: a gift for @namluve, one of the wonderful editors at @bangtan-headquarters!!!
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You woke up late to the smell of bacon and an empty bed. Sunshine peeked through the cracks of the closed blackout curtains. As you stretched on the king-sized bed, you breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of whatever your boyfriend was cooking, causing your stomach to rumble.
If it weren't for your insatiable hunger, you'd have stayed longer in bed, but groggily you darted straight for the kitchen, where Jungkook busied himself frying some eggs. He noticed your presence as soon as you stepped into the kitchen, taking notice of your disheveled hair and the favorite scrunchie in your left hand. It was endearing to him, watching you straight out of bed, with your eyes partially closed and groaning and yawning cutely, he considered himself lucky for being the only one with the privilege of seeing you like that.
Lazily, you dragged your feet to where he was and wrapped your arms around his torso from behind, resting your head in his muscly back, pressing a soft kiss into his shirt. "Morning," you croaked.
"Morning, love," he replied with a smile on his face, making sure not to burn the bacon he was cooking. Out of nowhere, the familiar ding of the toaster startled both of you, with Jungkook acting quickly and placing both freshly made toasts on two plates.
"Did you make coffee?"
He shook his head. "It's orange juice this time, we're out of coffee."
You hummed. "Gotta add that to the grocery list."
"The boys are coming over tonight, too."
You groaned. "Fucking hell, I forgot."
Jungkook chuckled, serving one egg before cracking open the other one in the pan. Taking a hold of the other one, he served each plate a portion of bacon. When he was done, he turned around and enveloped you in a warm embrace, placing a sweet kiss to your forehead. You relished in the attention he was giving you, giggling like a schoolgirl while you hugged him tighter.
You wordlessly navigated the kitchen, helping him finish making breakfast so you’d sit on the balcony. It was fresh outside, with the sun shining and the birds chirping, the weather report urging you to go outside, as the air today was crystal clear. How blue the sky appeared to you, not a cloud in sight, with a gentle, mellow breeze rustling the curtains beside you.
It wasn’t anything, but you were eternally grateful to the real estate agent that helped you find this beauty of an apartment. You’d only been occupying it for less than a month, and there were still some boxes that needed to be opened, but it already felt like home. Jungkook was far too excited to start this new chapter of your lives, perhaps even more than you, judging by his willingness to make breakfast for you every day or his commitment to keeping everything clean. Either way, you were thankful.
“Do you have the list?” Asked Jungkook before shoving a large piece of bacon into his mouth, munching loudly.
“It’s in my phone,” you said, pointing at the sofa where you’d flung it before breakfast, “at what time do the boys come in? The apartment is messy.”
“At seven,” he answered with his mouth full.
You nodded. “Okay so there are two options,” you explained, Jungkook leaning closer in curiosity. “Either we do the groceries now and clean later, or we can go out later and clean now.”
Jungkook mulled it over, swallowing his bacon and sipping the juice, taking his time to savor it with a cocked eyebrow. “Hmm,” he looked at you, then at his large shirt you were wearing. “If we do the groceries now, do we have to shower?”
You gaped at him, appalled. “Since when are you so gross?”
He laughed, arms raised in mock defeat. “Hey, all I’m saying is that we can go and brush our teeth, put some sweats on and no one will notice. We’ll get gross and sweaty anyway when we deep clean.”
You laid back on your chair, briefly considering his proposal before grinning. “On one condition.”
He poked his tongue through his cheek, something he knew would win you over instantly. You tried not to let him get to you. “Speak,” he smugly said, knowing you were already on board.
“You give me a massage when we’re done.”
“Deal.”
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“We’re not buying more bacon!”
You pouted as Jungkook dragged you down the aisle with a playful smile on his face. Your cart was nearly full, and you’d conspicuously dropped two more bags of bacon when he wasn’t looking -- despite the fact that you already had four in your cart. Your friends were coming over tonight, and they had big appetites. After much discussion, you settled on grilling some burgers because it was fast and easy to do. You could never fuck up a burger.
“But all that bacon is going into their stomachs… what about my stomach? I still want bacon.”
“We’re going way over budget with the bacon,” Jungkook rolled his eyes.
“Just like we’re way over the budget with your cured ham,” you retorted.
“It’s for the entreés!”
“To hell with your fancy entreés! We’re grilling burgers, babe. I’m sorry but nobody gives a shit about them! Just open a bag of chips with a semi-elaborate dip and they’ll be fine.”
Jungkook gaped at you, offended. “Fine, guess no one seems to appreciate my culinary expertise around here.”
“If we were having our parents over, sure, I’d be down for impressing them, but the boys want burgers, not bourguignon beef,” you reasoned, trailing behind him as he pushed the cart with haste through the candy aisle, eyes scanning the endless rows of chocolate bars. “You can buy all the sweets you want, though, I’m game for that.”
Jungkook snorted, laughing to himself as he checked his watch. “What am I gonna do with you, huh?”
You shrugged comically. “Live, but barely.”
He shook his head incredulously and continued his way through the aisle, not bothering to pay attention to your sweet cravings.
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Eventually, Jungkook relented and left the cured ham behind, following your advice and splurging on an obscene amount of beer, snacks, and other sweets -- as long as you promised to let him make the burger as gourmet as he wanted. You settled on that compromise and went home with the trunk of your car full of food and other goods.
It took you three trips from your car up the five-story building to carry all of the bags inside your apartment, thank fuck you had an elevator because if you didn’t you wouldn’t have made it past floor three on your first round. Jungkook, of course, didn’t even break a sweat carrying all those bags, muscles trained on withstanding an even greater amount of weight.
By the time you were finished, your kitchen was full of grocery bags and you were too tired to even think of cleaning, but it was nearing noon and your stomachs rumbled terribly. Jungkook grimaced when a particularly weird sound erupted from his belly. “If you take care of lunch, I’ll organize everything,” he bargained with a pout. “I’m so fucking hungry, I can’t think straight.”
“I mean… we can always go for ramen? You brought like the whole aisle in there.”
He snorted, mockingly offended. “No, I didn’t. I bought, like, a dozen-” then he paused when he saw you cocking your eyebrow. “Yeah, we can totally go for ramen, babe. I love your mind.”
Bellies full moments later, you longingly gazed at the obscene amount of grocery bags still lying on the kitchen floor. “Do you think we may have gone a bit overboard on the groceries?”
Jungkook sighed, focused on placing all the meat inside the freezer. You still had to store the beers to keep them cold enough for tonight. “I was about to say it was your fault, but apparently I brought a whole aisle worth of ramen, so…”
You laughed, pushing yourself up from the barstool and crossing over to help him store everything faster. “Alright, let’s run this all over again,” you said, opening your pantry and beginning to store the remaining packets of ramen. “After this, we have to: sweep, mop, dust off the furniture…”
Jungkook scrunched up his eyebrows, concentrating. “There’s also, like, two boxes full of frames and pictures and other stuff we gotta hang up. And the box with all my gym stuff, and the box with your art supplies for the studio.”
You grimaced, “Damn, I’d forgotten about that. We can put those boxes away, for now, nobody has to know we haven’t taken care of that.”
He chuckled, “Yeah but I’m pretty sure our friends will want a house tour, don’t you think?”
Your shoulders slumped at the thought. “Yeah. I’ll take care of it then.”
“Wait, so it’s me doing the sweeping again?” Jungkook whined. “Nu-uh, miss, you don’t get to pull your strings on me like last time.”
“What exactly did I do last time?”
“You talked your way out of sweeping the floors! It’s always me sweeping!”
You scoffed. “You know I hate sweeping, babe, you do it better than me anyway.”
After a moment of silently debating, Jungkook visibly deflated and looked at you with haste. “Alright, fine, I’ll sweep the floors.”
You perked up, walking over and placing a chaste kiss on his lips. “Thanks, I love you.”
Jungkook hummed in response, cocking an eyebrow and then patting your head as you turned around. “I’m spoiling you too much,” he said with a sigh, but you knew that he was just fighting off that cheeky grin he always gave you.
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After putting everything away, you busied yourself emptying all those boxes, starting off with the heaviest: Jungkook’s sports equipment. He was a huge gym rat, and if he wasn’t slaving away at the gym, then he was exercising at home. He’s managed to get you to train with him many times, until you finally caved in and accepted his proposal to go to the gym with him, snatching that couples’ discount he’d been after in the first place. You didn’t hit the gym that often, but with his well-intentioned nagging, you had a pretty healthy lifestyle (bar the unhealthy amount of ramen you could eat in one sitting, you had to balance it out somehow).
You hid away most of the stuff in your walk-in closet. It was mostly dumbbells, weights and whatnot, so you could easily put it away close to his shoes. Next, came your art supplies. Since it was a two bedroom apartment, you hogged the free room to turn it into your own little art studio. Jungkook, who liked to dabble on painting once in a while (hint: all the time), was ecstatic with the idea. So you adapted what was supposed to be an extra bedroom into a fully equipped art studio -- all that was missing was your supplies: paints, brushes, and the like.
With two more boxes to go, you shoved the various paintbrushes inside a drawer specifically labeled for them and, not wanting to waste any more time, shoved most of your acrylic and oil paints inside another drawer, deciding to properly classify them later.
The last two boxes contained several knick-knacks, photo frames and souvenirs you’d acquired over the years and, mindful of your time, you placed them everywhere in the living room, the studio, the kitchen and your bedroom. Jungkook, meanwhile, bumped his head to the music he’d been blasting while he mopped, expertly playing air-guitar and singing his lungs off. You laughed at his silliness, especially when he sat you down on the couch and mockingly serenaded you to old kpop hits.
By the time you were both done, it was nearing six. You only had one hour until your friends arrived, which meant just one hour to get showered and dressed. Seokjin and Yoongi had offered to help grill the burgers, and so you had extra hands in preparing your food. At least you had one thing less to worry about.
You were sweating through your shirt. After you finished organizing, you helped Jungkook deep clean the kitchen, and he was practically drenched too, cotton shirt sticking to his torso. “I feel so gross,” you grimaced as you made your way to the bathroom. Jungkook trailed behind you, groaning in agreement.
“It’s like I absorbed all the dirt I scraped off the kitchen,” he joked, taking off his shirt and releasing his hair from the little bun he had it in, long, greasy locks of black hair framing his face. Your hair was just as greasy, face shiny and oily. You squinted at your reflection in the mirror and made a noise of disgust, stripping your clothes off rapidly and throwing them in the hamper.
“Hot or cold?” Jungkook asked, hooking his fingers to his sweats and pulling them down along with his boxers. Despite how messy he looked, it was still enough to take your breath away, his naked form sending a rush of heat through your body. You tried not to make it too evident, but as always, it was useless. He could read you too well.
“Um, does it really matter? I just wanna shower. Put it somewhere in the middle,” you dismissed, blindly reaching for the clasp of your bra while he hopped inside the shower. Jungkook chuckled, and the sound of water running flooded the otherwise silent bathroom. You let out a groan of relief once you released your breasts, examining the faint red lines that it left behind on your skin.
“Babe,” Jungkook hissed in pleasure, your ears perked up. “You better come here quickly, the water’s amazing.”
You swore your panties dropped by themselves, as you were entering the shower not even five seconds later. His body glistened under the stark white light of your bathroom, muscles subtly flexing as he pushed his wet hair back. He decided to keep it long after he saw how much you liked it, and you did not complain one bit.
He saw you seconds later, wiping the water off his face, then gave you enough space to enjoy the stream of lukewarm water. It soothed your skin, and as you stood below the stream, you breathed deeply. “It is nice,” you absentmindedly commented.
Jungkook hummed in approval pressing his front to your back and softly kissing your cheek. “Can I wash your hair?”
You smiled, it had been a while since he’d done that, and you treasured those little moments you had to yourself. “You did promise me a massage,” you answered.
He didn’t say anything else, reaching for your shampoo and turning off the water. As soon as he uncapped the bottle, the scent of cherry blossom invaded your nostrils. Jungkook audibly inhaled -- it wasn’t a secret he loved the smell, he even used it a couple of times. You were sure he was going to ask if he could use it today-
“Can I use it tonight?” He asked in a sweet, cute manner, doe eyes gleaming in child-like wonder. There it was. You couldn’t muffle the snort that escaped your lips, nodding gently. “Sweet,” he muttered, squirting a generous amount of shampoo into his hand, “now let me pamper my pretty girl.”
To say that the way he spoke of you didn’t make you weak in the knees would’ve been a huge understatement. He had the ability to sweep you off your feet anytime, literally and figuratively, turning you into a mushy pile of goo.
With your back to him, Jungkook lathered your hair with shampoo, fingers digging into your scalp and massaging, washing your troubles away. Your eyes briefly rolled back and your shoulders slumping, losing your posture. It was Jungkook’s magic touch what dumbed you down and stripped you of rationality, even out of a sexual context. He had a power over you no one else could have.
Inadvertently, you let out a moan, air leaving your lungs and inhaling the sweet floral perfume. You heard Jungkook chuckling behind you. “Enjoying yourself?”
“Very much,” you said, drawing out the syllables as your vision became hazy and your bones, weary and tired, begged you to sit down. “I could fall asleep right after. You know I love it when you play with my hair.”
“Oh, but who else will help me entertain all those guests?” Jungkook teased, shaping your hair to what you supposed was something hilarious. You didn’t know, as your eyes were closed, but you could already picture that wide grin that made his cute nose scrunch. “I can’t do all that stuff alone, you know?”
You laughed, “I’m not leaving you alone, dummy.”
His hands suddenly left your head, and you missed his touch almost immediately. “Good, because I’m not letting you leave, ever.” You smiled, and a bunch of butterflies fluttered inside your stomach. “Eyes closed, please.”
The stream of water soothed your skin, a bit colder than before but still warm enough -- the perfect temperature. His fingers returned to your hair, washing out the dirt, the stress, all of it. You were lulled to sleep once again, muscles relaxing as your head spun in that deep state of relaxation. A soft moan tore through you, head hung back to give him better access. He chuckled once again, no doubt brandishing that cocky smirk of his.
“Turn around, baby,” he said, voice silky smooth. You followed through his order diligently, stupidly smiling once his fingers grazed your cheek tenderly, cupping your face. “Pretty baby,” he muttered, wiping residual foam from your forehead, then neatly combing your eyebrows with his thumbs. You felt small in his hold, small, tiny and safe.
His lips connected with your temple, bring your body closer to his until you were pressed flush against each other. Unsurprisingly, his hard cock poked your belly. You knew it was going to end this way. “My pretty baby girl. Like it when I touch you like that, hmm?”
You felt your entire body heating up at the sudden change in his demeanor, going from your sweet boyfriend to the needy man ready to fuck you in every surface he could find. Eyes still closed, you wrapped your arms around his small waist, hands trailing down to find his perky ass and give it a squeeze, resting your head on his chest and laying small kisses to the bare skin.
“Fuck me,” you whined, muffled by the increasingly wetter kisses you gave him, going up his neck and then to his jaw. “I need you, Kookie.”
He hummed in approval, finally connecting your mouths together in a slow, languid kiss, tongues slithering into each other's mouths and twisting messily. The water was still running, falling over your heads and making the kiss even wetter. His fingers tangled in your hair, angling your head so he could travel to your neck. The absence of his lips made you all too aware of his cock pressing into you, so you reached down to wrap your hand around his girth, grinning once you heard him hiss.
You felt his teeth sinking into your neck in retaliation, delivering a sweet little bite that had your cunt clenching in anticipation. Arousal dripped down your thighs, mixing with the water that surely washed it away. “Fuck, you drive me crazy,” he groaned, rutting his hips into your hand, chasing the friction. “Wanna fuck you till you can’t walk.”
“Yes,” you whimpered, the weight of his words settling deep in your core and making your pussy throb with need. “Fuck, yes, please.”
You tightened your fist slightly, chest elating at the loud grunt he let out, thrusting faster into your hand. “Shit,” he moaned, one hand clutching your shoulder and the other one grasping your hip tightly to keep himself steady.
When you cheekily swiped the weeping tip of his cock with your thumb, he faltered in his pace, biting his lip, nearly giving in. “Okay, stop, stop, I’m not gonna last,” he pleaded desperately, tightening his grip on your hip. You released him, gazing into his lust-filled eyes with a grin. “I wanna cum inside you,” he said, back to his usual tone, tracing a faint line from your shoulder to your neck with his nose, then proceeding to devour your neck as he saw fit, slotting one toned thigh in between your legs to open you up for him.
You whimpered at the contact, cunt sensitive and eager to be touched. You squeezed his ass once more, guiding him closer to your body so you could feel him all over you. “Fuck, touch me, please, Kookie, please.”
“Oh, so needy,” Jungkook whispered as he harshly ground your hips against his thigh, taking your earlobe in between his teeth and nibbling on it, then releasing it. “My baby is so needy for cock, aren’t you? You just want me to fill you up, hmm?”
You couldn’t take it anymore -- the teasing driving you wild, goosebumps forming all over your flaming skin. You nodded silently, toes curling once Jungkook moved forward. You let him guide you away from the shower stream until you hit the cold tile wall and his lips attacked your chest with wet kisses, taking a nipple into his mouth and suckling the hard bud with passion. Your fingers latched onto his hair with a sigh, one hand on his shoulder for balance.
“Thank fuck we bought those anti-slip strips,” you mumbled incoherently, causing Jungkook to release your breast and snort audibly, back shaking with the force of his laugh. “What? We can’t afford to slip in this shower, right? You should be thanking me.”
He gave you a cocky smirk. “Oh, I will, baby.”
You quirked an eyebrow just as he got down on his knees. “Spread your legs,” he commanded. You couldn’t hold back the grin, doing as told, giving him enough space to work on. His mouth latched onto your cunt immediately, tongue giving long, drawn out licks from your folds to your clit. At this, your toes curled in response, a long hiss escaping you.
Jungkook grinned, taking your leg and hooking it over his shoulder, further slotting himself in between you, face pressed flush against your mound. He didn’t give you time to react to this positional change because he was diving back to devour you, tonguing you down until he was basically making out with your pussy. Your hand latched onto the thick, wet mat of his hair, pulling him closer to your cunt until he didn’t have the space to even breathe. He loved being smothered by you.
His free arm was what kept you in place, kneeling on the wet tile, one hand gripped the leg over his shoulder while the other held your hip in place. You held onto his strong shoulder for dear life, praying that your knee wouldn’t give in and sent you tumbling down inside the shower. But Jungkook was determined to bring you to orgasm on his mouth alone, encircling your clit with his lips and sucking it with a drawn-out grunt, almost as if he was getting the same amount of satisfaction by pleasuring you.
You knew it stroked his ego whenever your knees buckled, whenever he turned your legs into jelly and you whimpered his name. He was cocky like that, eager to please and witnessing the way you crumbled from his touch.
“Shit, so good, Kookie,” you cried out, eyes shut tight, fingernails gently digging into his scalp. He answered with a light little moan, urging you to tug his hair a bit more, the sound traveling across your body and giving you goosebumps.
Pleasure overwhelmed your senses, slowly building up and leaving you breathless, but it wasn’t enough, you needed more. You craved to be filled up, to have him fuck into you hard and fill you up just like he promised he would. “More,” you cried, holding onto him for dear life.
Jungkook released your clit from his sinful mouth, looking up at you with the most fucked out expression that most probably matched yours. “Baby wants more? Is that it?” He said, kissing over your mound and then up to your lower abdomen, inching away from where you truly wanted.
With a whine, you grasped his hair tighter. “Want your cock, want you to fill me up, cum inside me- ah!” Jungkook had dropped your leg and was now standing up, kissing up your stomach and taking one of your breasts into his mouth, sucking at the pert nipple and squeezing the other one like it was his favorite plushie.
“Hmm, you filthy girl,” he said in between reverentially kissing your breasts, a hand dipping to finally graze your wet folds. You still held onto his shoulder, but now his wide frame eclipsed yours, giving you better leverage to stand and cling onto him. A rough, calloused finger traced your soaked entrance, and you trembled in anticipation. “So wet for me, baby, you could probably take my cock like this, don’t you think?” Jungkook said, finally looking at you dead in the eyes, pupils blown away with lust. “Bet I could just slide in right now and stretch that pretty pussy of yours.”
Just then, he dipped his finger shallowly inside you, teasing. Scrunching your face, you hid your expression on his chest, only answering with wanton moans and a cry of his name. Jungkook’s chest inflated slightly. “Fuck me now, Kook, stop teasing.”
He removed his finger from you, tugging your face back by your hair just so he could see you properly. “Now, what do we say?”
You blushed. “Please, Kookie, just fuck me now.”
He smirked, the gears already turning in his head, you could practically see them. He tapped the back of your thighs and your eyes widened. “Are you really gonna carry me?”
He laughed. “Yes, jump.”
“Kook-”
“Shh, I can carry you, jump.”
You shut your mouth and did as told, wrapping your legs around his small waist, strong hands gripping your ass cheeks and pressing you against the shower wall. “These anti slip strips better fucking come in handy or else,” Jungkook grunted, shifting until he was comfortable enough, squeezing your ass tightly, rutting his hardened length against your exposed pussy.
You shivered. “Or else what?”
“They’ll get one hell of a review on Amazon,” he joked, nuzzling your noses together. “Hold tight, don’t let go, okay?”
You couldn’t get any more lovesick than this, with the human furnace you had for a boyfriend heavily pressing you against the cool tiles of the shower wall, lips hovering close to yours, just a hair’s width away from touching. You were the one to close the distance gently, separating not even a second later. “Okay.”
His eyes never left your own, not even to grip his cock and align it with your center, sliding easily just like he said he would. Sometimes it surprised you just how well he knew your body, how well you responded to his touch. Jungkook hissed, pressing your foreheads together and then your mouths as he buried himself whole inside you.
He was right, you could take him. The stretch burned a bit from not preparing you properly, but you couldn’t care less, the slight discomfort trumped by the feeling of being filled by him. He was all over you and that was all that mattered, walls tightening around him with a vice-like grip that had both of you panting heavily.
“Shit,” he hushed, already lost in the sensation, “so good to me, baby, so fucking good.” He marked the last syllable with a gentle thrust that had your nails digging into his shoulders. Your heels rested atop his plump ass, which you’d give anything to squeeze as he fucked into you, but your position sadly wouldn’t allow.
It hit you deeply, in all the right places at the right angle. Jungkook was that good from the get-go, nearly all the time. He never failed to make you feel good, and this time was no exception. “So fucking deep, Kookie, keep going like that,” you moaned, just as enraptured as he was.
He captured your lips in a searing kiss, fucking into you with much more vigor than before, gripping your ass with such force you half expected to see the dents after. You moaned all you had to say, all you had to feel into each other’s mouths. When his velvety tongue enveloped yours you could almost taste the remnants of your arousal and the chocolate muffin he ate right in between sweeping and mopping. The water was still running, hitting part of his back and your leg.
You couldn’t disconnect even if you tried. You were irrevocably glued to him, molded into his figure until you became one. “Wanna keep fucking you forever,” he groaned into the myriad of kisses he gave you, pouring his all into every touch. “Keep you with me forever.”
Rambling. Whenever he did that it meant that it was getting to him. Jungkook was a lot more emotional than he let on, and often times he slipped into such a state of mind whenever you had sex, like he was offering you the innermost parts of his mind for only you to dissect. He showed you his vulnerable side by spewing all those words.
“I love you,” you cried, hiding your head in the crook of his neck when he hit a certain spot inside you and kept hitting it over and over again. You repeated your words weakly, nipping at his neck but careful not to leave any bruises. “Iloveyou Iloveyou Iloveyou-”
“Fuck,” he choked out, voice strained and rough, swatting at your ass before gripping it and bringing you down to meet his increasingly harsh thrusts, the slap echoing across the bathroom. “Wanna fucking marry you so bad, have you all to myself forever, f-fuck you forever, baby.”
He noticed the way you clenched at his words, and yet you noticed how his pulse quickened, lapping at the spot but not daring to bite. It wasn’t the first time he rambled about marrying you, but it was definitely the first time he ever brought it out while having sex. Prior to this, it was a little comment here, a remark there, or maybe even a suggestion. You toyed with the idea for a while, and it frankly excited you, even more now that you were living together.
“Do you like that? Like it when I talk to you like that, baby?” You nodded, too gone to even bother answering verbally. “My pretty baby,” he cooed, tugging your head back again so he could kiss you deeply. “My perfect girl, I love you.”
“Close,” you croaked out into the kiss, tangling your fingers in his hair again, feeling your orgasm brewing from the deepest parts of your being. “K-Kookie,” you cried, moans lifting in pitch and loudness. You hugged him tighter, closer. Even if you suffocated it would never be close enough. Not until you became one.
Jungkook moaned your name when you tightened around him again. He was close too, panting and grunting and hissing, the sounds mixing with the running water and the slap of your wet bodies. “Gonna fill you up, baby, fill you up so good you’ll be leaking for days.”
His legs burned terribly with the strain of keeping you up, but he continued anyway with pure adrenaline coursing through his veins. He brought your hips down to meet his, burying himself further and further into you, foreheads stuck together, heavily panting into each other’s faces, noses brushing.
“G-give it to me, Kookie, want your cum,” you rambled.
“Want it, baby?”
“Want it so bad,” you answered desperately, the energy inside you close to exploding. “I want you so bad.”
Jungkook’s head was spinning. You were on cloud nine, clinging onto him desperately. “Shit, I can- I can’t-”
“Cum for me, baby,” he panted, hips thrusting hard and fast, “let go, I got you.”
“Fuck!” You mouthed but no sound came out other than your wanton cries and his name rolling off your tongue as you dug your nails even deeper, leaving crescent moon-like indentations in his skin. Your orgasm washed over your entire body, trembling uncontrollably. Jungkook moaned, feeling the way your walls spasmed and clenched around his cock.
“Gonna cum too, baby, gonna give it to you,” he said, pushing you further into the wall, gripping your ass tightly and ramming into you as fast as he could. “Kiss me, fucking kiss me,” he growled, lips crashing together in a frenzy as his pace turned sloppier and sloppier with each passing second.
Jungkook met his undoing rather quickly, releasing his hot semen inside you in thick spurts filling you up just like he said he would. The kiss broke, and Jungkook kept thrusting, albeit a bit slower this time, but just as hard. “Fucking take it, yeah,” he growled at your little, sensitive whimpers. “Cream my cock, baby.”
You couldn’t move. Everything was spinning around you, dizzy from the earth-shattering orgasm you just experienced, and now with your lover’s cock impaling you, cum trickling out your cunt just from the ludicrous amount there was.
Eventually, he slowed down, slowly bringing you both back to reality. You still hadn’t properly showered -- Jungkook had only shampooed your hair and nothing else. Luckily, you didn’t waste any more time after that, with him setting you down on the floor and making sure you didn’t topple over. He pulled out of you and you hissed from the sensitivity, and you both watched in awe as his cum leaked down your legs.
“Huh, lucky we can wash that out easily,” he laughed, tenderly cupping your face and pressing soft kisses to your cheeks. You mirrored his laugh, and carried on with your shower.
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“Did you really mean what you said back there?”
Jungkook looked up at you. He’d borrowed your blow dryer because he hated letting it air dry, even more so if you were planning on hanging out with other people. “Huh?”
You leaned against the mirror and examined your eyeliner. Classy and simple, not too overdone. It was just a couple of friends coming over anyway, nothing too fancy. Then, you grabbed your lipstick, a beautiful coral that matched your skin tone. “About… y’know. The marriage thing.”
Now the blow dryer was shut off. There was silence in the bathroom. “Of course I meant it, babe… you know how I get when we bump uglies.”
You scrunched your nose. “Gross, don’t call it that.”
Jungkook relented with a dramatic sigh. “Fine… when we do the devil’s tango.”
You shot him a dirty look, but he could only laugh at your annoyance. Still, you let it slide. For the hundredth time. He was impossible.
“I was being honest, though.” He walked closer until he stood behind you, gaze trained on the pair of you through the wide mirror. “I know we talked about it before but it’s never been the talk… I think it’s time we have it, don’t you think? We’ve dated for four years now, we live together, we’re doing well at our jobs… Life is good.”
You smiled and tried to hide your blush, but to hide from him was as hard as trying to phase through walls. “So you’re saying you-”
“Wanna get married and spend the rest of my life with you? Absolutely,” he finished for you, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you closer until his front pressed to your back. “The question is, do you?”
You smiled. “I think you already know the answer to that.”
He placed a kiss on your cheek. “Wanna hear it from you. Make sure I’m not dreaming it.”
You turned around and gently put your hands on his chest. He pulled you closer. “Yes. I wanna marry you.”
The following kiss was soft, tender, so full of love and wonder, you swore you’d reached heaven right then and there. “I just wanna make clear though,” he said abruptly breaking the kiss, “this is not a proposal. This is a confirmation that we both want this. You can expect a proposal much later.”
Your eyes widened in panic. “Don’t tell me you have it all planned out already.”
Jungkook swallowed thickly and laughed. “All I’m saying is: absolutely do not, under any circumstances, check what’s inside my nightstand cabinet.”
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“Sweet crib, Y/N,” Hoseok said, leaning back on the faux leather couch, squeezed in between Taehyung and Amanda, your best friend who’d dropped by for a visit. She lived two blocks away from you now, and was over the moon at the fact that you were now closer than ever.
“You’ve been watching too much MTV,” groaned Yoongi from his spot on the loveseat. Jimin had decided to dramatically drape himself on top of his favorite hyung. The smaller man sat there grumpily as the younger wouldn’t let him move. “Gonna rat you out to Seokjin.”
“I-I don’t follow, what?” Said Amanda from her seat, glaring at the two of them. Seokjin was currently inside the kitchen with Jungkook taking care of the burgers. Yoongi was also supposed to be there but someone wouldn’t just let him go.
“Jin hates MTV,” you explained, handing her another beer once you noticed her bottle was empty. She took it without a second thought, nodding cautiously. Though she’d hung out with your other friend group before, she wasn’t very much acquainted with them, hence her lack of understanding of your inside jokes.
“Jin hyung has no taste, just saying,” Hoseok huffed to Amanda, pouting once Taehyung snorted and mocked him.
“Yah, Min Yoongi!” Came a voice from the kitchen. Seokjin appeared with a baby yellow apron (yours) and some tongs in his left hand. “Weren’t you supposed to be helping out here? We’re almost done and you haven’t set foot inside the damn kitchen. Poor Kookie is sweating his ass off.”
Yoongi was about to speak, but Jimin only made himself more comfortable in his hyung’s lap. “Hyung is not going anywhere, he’s been punished.”
Namjoon, who had been previously perusing the little bonsai trees and potted plants you’d placed in your balcony (most of them a housewarming gift from him), snickered. “Yoongi lost a bet to Jimin.”
Again, Amanda looked lost, but you silently promised her you’d fill her in later.
Said loser merely groaned from his spot (or trap?). “Sorry, hyung, I gave him my word.”
“Dinner’s ready!” Jungkook yelled nearly seconds after. “Someone please help me bring it all to the table.”
You stood up, taking a long swig from what remained of your beer and walking towards the kitchen with Taehyung in tow. With their help, the table was set in less than five minutes, and everyone gathered to make their own burger, scattering across the living area and eating.
You sat on Jungkook’s lap, laughing and enjoying your food and your friend’s company. Clutching your stomachs from all the jokes your friends spewed, mostly aimed at Yoongi for losing whatever bet he made with Jimin, who still sat on top of him, gingerly eating his food.
With the dirty dishes stacked on top of one another in your coffee table and your bellies full, you placed a little peck on your boyfriend’s nose when the attention wasn’t on you. “Hmm, what was that for?”
“Everything,” you replied simply. “All that was and is to come.”
He smiled, taking a sip from his soda. “Sounds nice. Is that little future including me?”
“I thought that was a given, love.”
“Hmm,” he kissed your shoulder with stars in his eyes and a lovesick gaze, “just making sure.”
“Ugh, you guys are gross, just get married already!” Groaned Seokjin from the other side of the room, gorging on some leftovers. Jungkook chuckled and shot you a knowing glance, then a wink.
“I think we might,” he said with a nervous chuckle, and after a short silence, your friends practically exploded.
3K notes · View notes
cutechim · 7 months ago
Text
picking petals|pjm
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summary ↣ you asked for a baby, so a baby is what you’re going to get. 
pairing ↣ f. reader x idol!jimin
genre ↣ married couple au|smut, fluff
word count ↣ 6.3k of pwp i’m so sorry
warnings ↣ nsfw (18+), good old-fashioned baby-making aka unprotected sex, post concert sex, impreg kink, mild pregnancy kink, talk about conceiving/not being able to conceive, dirty talk, soft dom!jm, sub!reader, thigh-riding, oral (f. receiving), brief cockwarming, handjob, cumplay, nipple play, praise kink, jimin is a pretty boy with a pretty cock, use of “daddy” in a non-sexual manner: oc affectionately calls jimin her baby daddy, gross amounts of fluffiness, too much kissing, it’s soft, there is no plot!! (currently unedited)
notes ↣ banner credits: 1, 2, 3, 4. this is technically a stand-alone one shot but it’s set in the owaw universe. enjoy!!
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Jimin knows he’s in trouble before he even steps backstage.
His veins are already pulsing with adrenaline, chest still heaving from two hours of non-stop exertion in the summer heat, but he can feel his heart rate skyrocketing from the mere knowledge of your proximity.
The show proceeded as well as it could have. Jimin takes pride in technical perfection, something that’s become second nature to him. He can perform this choreography in his sleep and no one would know the difference.
But he enjoys being present during concerts—being able to feel the ebb and flow of movement during the performance, using the stage as his canvas, letting the energy of the crowd guide him. Performing was his first love, and to this day, that zeal is undying, pumping through his veins as strongly as ever before.
Yet, he’d been distracted all evening, too busy anticipating the moment the curtains would close and he could get his hands on you again.
Even amidst the chaos of his entrance into the green room—a horde of crew members immediately swarming towards him, pulling off his mic gear and stage jacket—his eyes are able to find you immediately.
You’re conversing with one of his staffers—hair loose, styled casually as it normally is, and there’s a warm glow to your skin that exudes utter radiance. Your eyes are sparkling with enthusiasm, a broad smile filling out your cheeks as you animatedly discuss the show.
And if that isn’t enough to have his heart skipping a beat—your tight jeans hug your figure perfectly, the plunging neckline of your plain blouse providing a generous view.
And though his first thought, regrettably, is how much he wants to tear it off of you, your unassuming eyes light up with excitement when you catch sight of him, and an instinctive smile finds his lips in response. (How you still manage to take his breath away with the smallest, most innocent of actions—that’s a mystery to him.)
He utters quick words of thanks to his crew members as they disperse around him, his surroundings fading into the background as you cross the room to jump into his arms.
“Baby, you were so good!” you exclaim, throwing your arms around his shoulders, completely undeterred by the sweat-drenched towel around his neck. “That aerial was so amazing,” you immediately begin to gush, “and that other move—you told me what it’s called but I forget—it was all so perfect!”
Jimin chuckles in appreciation of your enthusiasm, equal parts endeared and amused.
“You think so?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
His mind is already racing to determine the fastest way he can get inside you, but he figures he has to try to show his wife some basic consideration before fucking her senseless.
His attempts sorely fail when your smile broadens to accompany an eager nod, his gaze falling onto the sight of your rouged lips automatically.
Fuck, if the image of them around his cock hasn’t been haunting him for the past few hours.  
“All of it—the choreography, the songs, all that hard work paid off,” you say, reaching to run your fingers through his hair, blissfully unaware of his affliction. (It’s an innocent gesture, but maddening to his sensitized nerves that are yearning for more of your touch.)
“I’m so proud of you, Jiminie,” you whisper, gaze achingly sincere. “You were perfect up there, just like always.”
He feels a twinge of guilt when your sweet, heartfelt words only leave him hungrier for your taste. He values your opinion more than anyone else’s; he cherishes every word of encouragement and support you’ve ever given him.
But what else could he possibly be thinking about, at a time like this? Every passing moment is precious, an opportunity for him to be buried inside you and filling you up again.
“I’m so happy you think so, sweetheart,” he says, pressing a more sensual kiss to your lips—now that the two of you are in the privacy of the hallway. 
You reciprocate gently, letting him take the lead as he molds his lips to yours.
Upon entering his dressing room—while still eagerly chasing your taste—he pushes the door closed with his foot, gently laying you onto the chenille couch.
He wishes he had the self-control to wait a few more hours. He prefers more romantic venues these days, allowing him to take his time and go slow (the complete opposite of most post-concert trysts the two of you engage in).
But this particular room is definitely on the nicer side—resembling a hotel suite with its fancy furniture, a full bath and restroom attached. And it’s insulated from the steaming humidity outside, a dim orange glow illuminating the space, fresh flowers gifted by the venue hosts sweetening its aroma.
Admittedly, this is only the bare minimum he’ll accept on your behalf, but at this moment, he simply needs to be close to you.
Crawling over your form, he bends down to give you a proper kiss, cupping your face with his hands.  
“What else did you like about it?” he asks, mumbling into your lips, refusing to part from them. “Tell me everything, baby.”
You know him well enough to know what’s going through his mind, responding to his leading words with a shy smile.
“You know how sexy you looked up there,” you tease, letting him cage you between his arms. “Anyone with half-decent vision could tell you.”
“I don’t care about just anyone,” he scrunches his face into a pout, shamelessly fishing for compliments. “Just care about what you think.”
He finds your jaw with a dip of his head, gently brushing his lips against your smooth skin.
You let out a faint sigh when he nuzzles your neck, trailing his lips along the contours of your skin languidly.
“Wanna know—” he pauses for a lingering kiss to the nook of your neck “—what my pretty girl likes.”
Meeting his gaze, you take the opportunity to thread your fingers through his hair, encouraging him to lower his weight onto you.
And he loves nothing more than to have you beneath him like this, chest to chest with your beating heart against his.
“I—” You’re distracted from your train of thought when he deftly flicks your jeans open.
Stiffening, you reach for his hand, your eyes darting towards the door.
“Baby—people might walk past—”
“The door’s locked,” Jimin assures you.
He’s a performer through and through, but certainly not an exhibitionist, not when it comes to you. No one else needs to hear the pretty noises you make for him, or to see you all wet and needy.  
“And they won’t be able to hear, it’s soundproof.”
It speaks volumes about how much you trust him, that the tension in your shoulders instantly dissipates, your grasp loosening on his hands to permit him to continue.
He gathers the dark denim of your jeans in his hands, waiting for your approval before pulling them down to expose your panties.
“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he utters, hooking a finger into the scant fabric, gently circling his thumb over your clothed clit. “Let me take care of you.”
He’d been hasty about it this morning, and though you insisted you didn’t mind (more accurately: thoroughly enjoyed the rare appearance of his rougher side), the future mother of his children deserves to be taken care of properly.
He gently traces your slit over your panties, pleased to find the fabric soaked through already—a fact that has your face flushing with warmth.
It’s adorable, how you still get flustered by his amorous advances, even after years of being together. It reassures him, that you’re still as smitten with him as he is with you, that the butterflies are yet to subside despite the rollercoaster of highs and lows that you’ve seen each other through.
You hesitate for a moment, as if to debate whether or not to beg him to get inside you as fast as possible, but the sensation of his thumb brushing against your clit coaxes the desirous words out of you.
“I—I was thinking about riding your thighs,” you admit, taking your lower lip between your teeth. “They always look so good on stage, when you dance...”
Jimin hums in approval, feeling his length stir at the mere thought of you on top of him, immersed solely in your own pleasure.
“Yeah, baby? Want to use me to get yourself off?”
With a flushed nod, “Want to get you all wet and messy,” you add breathlessly.
Jimin rewards you with more friction, rubbing the heel of his thumb against your sensitive nub. A little mewl escapes from your lips at the sensation, hips flitting upwards to chase the gratification.
He knows your body, every inch of your flesh, better than his own. He knows exactly what makes you tick, what makes your toes curl in pleasure, how to coax those pretty sounds from your mouth.
And he knows what you like on him as well—it isn’t like he doesn’t notice you eyeing his ass and thighs in this particular pair of pants. But he certainly doesn’t mind hearing you say it, too.
“What else, sweetheart?” he purrs. “That’s not all, is it?”
You squirm beneath him, impatiently grinding into his fingers.
“I want to touch your pretty cock,” you whine, letting out a whimper when he attaches his lips to the dip of your collarbones, nipping gently. “Want to feel you get hard for me, make you feel good.”
Your breathing is becoming ragged, whines growing desperate as he continues his leisurely teasing with an expectant expression.
“I—I just want you to fuck me,” you plead, a swipe of his fingers against your clit snapping your resolve. “Wanna be full of your cock. Fuck a baby into me, Jimin, please.”
He can’t help but kiss you again—earnestly, rougher than he normally likes to, but his fervor is matched by your eager reciprocation, your hips rolling against his impatiently.
After more than a year of marriage to solidify the fact, Jimin can testify to every single cliche he’s ever heard about finding the one. He can see his entire future reflected in your starry-eyed gaze, all the encouragement and assurance he could ever need spoken in your voice only. The intimacy of the stage of life you’ve reached together is only more proof of that.
“Were you good for me?” he asks, his own breath becoming slightly uneven as his mind races in anticipation. “Did you keep your legs up after I left?”
It’s shameless, the way he relishes in the visual from this morning—you in his oversized T-shirt and nothing else, your bare legs resting vertically against the headboard of the bed, cunt plugged up with his seed.
You nod shyly, rubbing your thighs together in an adorable yet infuriatingly-arousing manner.
“You can check,” you breathe out.
It’s an invitation rather than an offer of proof, one eagerly given and even more eagerly accepted.
He drops a kiss to your chin before reaching for the waistband of your jeans, peeling them off your skin to leave you in the scant satin number you have on underneath. A swift tug on your blouse reveals your nipples provocatively visible underneath sheer tulle, the pink of your bra’s binding painting a vivid streak against your skin.
“Fuck,” Jimin mutters under his breath, momentarily distracted by the sight. (Just long enough for you to decide that the new purchase was worth it, simply for the look on his face.) “I have such a hot wife.”
You giggle in response, allowing him to press a grinning kiss to your sternum before lifting your hips to help him shimmy your panties off of you.
He’s greeted by the view he’s been eagerly anticipating all day—your stuffed cunt, still slightly swollen from the treatment he afforded you earlier.
Using his fingers to spread your lips apart, he has to wait a few moments for his cum to begin leaking out, the watery liquid dripping from your lips only sparsely. The fact has him preening, his chest filled with smug pride—knowing that he’d filled you up properly, with his cum deep inside you where it belongs.
It isn’t like the pearly-clear substance coating your walls is a foreign sight. You nearly always convince him to cum inside you, pleading with that doe-like pout of yours until you get your way.
But things are different now, now that your pills have officially been tossed. Now, when you beg him to fuck a baby into you, it isn’t just a fantasy or a distant possibility—no, he’s actually going start a family with the girl of his dreams.
And if he’d been crazy about you before, he’s insatiable now.
Thoughts of you occupy his mind constantly, everything from the most innocent images of you as the beautiful mother you’d be to his children, to what it would be like to cradle your belly and play with your swollen tits while he fucked you from behind.
“Shit, that’s so hot,” he curses under his breath, palming his crotch to relieve the ache that’s building there.
You shiver below him as he runs a finger along the seam of your entrance, fresh dampness already slickening your walls.
“You’re so pretty, baby,” he coos, lifting his reverent gaze back towards you. “You didn’t waste a single drop, did you?”
You nod immediately. “I kept it all in,” you promise, spreading your legs wider for his viewing pleasure.
The earnestness in your voice has his cock stirring.
“I know you did, Princess,” he acknowledges with a breathy exhale. “You want me to get you round and swollen with my baby, don’t you?”
“Please, Jimin,” you beg, once again squirming to get some friction between your legs. “So, so badly.”
Your gaze is so desperately sincere that he has to resist the urge to forget everything else, to spend the next hour simply kissing and teasing you—just to hear more of that sweet, needy voice of yours.
But the sight of your leaking cunt beckons him with primal urgency, overshadowing the flowery sensation in his chest.
If you want a baby, you’re going to get a baby.
“Get on top of me, sweetheart.”
You eagerly comply, swiftly pulling your panties off and switching spots with him. Your hair falls forward to frame your face as you lean over to unbutton his pants, a quick swipe of your fingers popping them open.
To help you out, he pushes his jeans down just enough to expose his thigh, while you clamor for the hem of his sweat-soaked shirt. Your fingernails scrape against his skin lightly when you pull the white tee over his head, before reaching to release his cock from his briefs.
His length instantly springs out of the confines of the fabric, already rock hard and leaking from the tip.
You eagerly wrap your fingers around his girth, but he reaches to stop you.
“Not yet,” he says, lifting you up by your hips to pull you forward, slotting your bent knees on either side of his thigh. He instantly feels your wet folds brush against his skin, a mixture of your fluids and his sweat beginning to mix onto his leg. “I’m not going to last long. Just get yourself ready for me.”
You don’t need him to elaborate, readjusting yourself on his leg, the lips of your cunt rubbing against his flexed muscle.
Hesitating slightly, “I might need some help,” you admit.
You’re clearly seeking reassurance with that worried frown of yours, but he can’t pass up the opportunity to tease you.
“My pillow princess isn’t used to doing the work for herself, huh?”
Your lower lip juts out in a pouty display of displeasure.
“I am not a pillow princess.”
It’s a total lie, but he certainly doesn’t mind.
“Don’t worry, I’ll help you,” he affirms with a cheeky grin, leaning forward to drop a kiss on your forehead. “Tell me how to make you feel good.”
He doesn’t require instructions anymore, but he won’t turn down the opportunity to hear the words in your silky voice.
“Touch me,” you request, breathily. “Wherever you want, just touch me.”
He takes the directions easily, placing his hands on your thighs, enjoying the softness of your skin as he slides them further to cup your ass.
Spurred on by his reassuring touch, you begin rocking against him, easing yourself into the movements slowly.
It takes a few moments for you to adjust to the feeling, but within a minute, you find your stride—grinding down into him while he keeps his thigh flexed.
Jimin’s eyes are instantly drawn to your chest, to the glistening sheen of sweat coating your breasts. Each roll of your hips sends the rounded flesh bouncing in your bra, the fabric lying taut over your perked nipples.
Small whines and whimpers accompany your rhythmic movements, eyes fluttering shut as a wave of pleasure begins to mount in your core.
With a firm grip on the curve of your ass, he reinforces your steady pace, guiding your hips. The wetness of your cunt has smeared onto his skin, allowing you to glide along the length of his thigh without any harsh friction.
And lying beneath you, Jimin is fairly certain he’ll blow his load just from the visual he’s blessed with, without a single stroke of stimulation. There are very few things he enjoys more than fucking you raw, and just seeing you fall apart for him, using his body for your own pleasure—that’s one of them.
For an extended moment, he allows his gaze to linger on your figure, soaking up the beauty in front of him—everything from your pretty eyelashes fluttering with pleasure, to the way your tits sway with each thrust of your hips.
“There you go, baby,” Jimin can’t help but coo, ignoring the ache of his neglected cock. “Look at you, making a mess on me. Is this what you wanted?”
You nod immediately, trying to stifle a moan as you drag your clit against him.
“Let me hear you, pretty girl. No one else is around.”
You let out a soft whimper while continuing to rock against him, prompting Jimin to slide his hands up to the clasp of your bra. With a deft flick of his fingers, he releases your tits from the fabric, tossing the dainty garment onto the pile of clothes at the foot of the couch.
Tweaking one of your nipples in between his fingertips, he rubs circles with his thumb against the other, feeling your peaks pebble under his touch.
“Keep doing that, Jimin,” you gasp, leaning forward onto your hands for a better angle against your clit. “Keep—” you take a clipped breath “—doing that.”
He has no intention of stopping, but your lowered position now gives you perfect access to his leaking cock. You drop a harmless kiss to his base between thrusts of your hips, but then another to his tip, and then one with a hint of tongue—
“Baby,” he interrupts you firmly, taking his desperate, twitching cock into his palm. He barely manages to force out the words, “I want you to cum first.”
You give him that doe-eyed look in response, begging him to reconsider.
“I wanna touch you, Jiminie,” you plead, leaning forward to rest your head on his chest, keeping your legs tangled around his thigh.
Continuing to grind into him, you gently take his cock from his grasp, your imploring gaze fixed on him. “Wanna make sure my baby daddy feels good too.”
He nearly chokes on his own spit at the unfamiliar term, the throb of his dick confirming that the surprise is a welcome one.
You remain completely unaware of his affliction, continuing without missing a beat.
“You have such a pretty cock,” you purr, tracing the prominent vein decorating his underside, teasing his sensitive skin with the feather-like lightness of your touch. “Please, just let me make my pretty boy feel good.”
You’ve certainly come a long way since the two of you first slept together, when you could barely say the word “cock” without a shy stammer. Now, your coy veil is a weapon you use to your own advantage, lifting it off strategically to leave him at your mercy.
“Okay, just—”
You don’t even let him finish his sentence, giving him a pump that has his previously-neglected cock spurring to life, jumping in your hand.
Melting into your touch instantly, he has no choice but to wrap an arm around your frame, his skin craving close proximity to yours. There’s no point resisting his fate—he’s putty in your hands if you decide you want him so, and the way his hips automatically jerk forward into your fondling strokes is proof of that.
Gently circling his weeping slit with your thumb, you spread his precum around the head of his cock, before reaching between your legs to gather the slick that’s dripping from your folds.
You rub his length up and down with your fluids, using them as lubricant for your gentle pumps.
The stimulation hits him all at once—your face buried in his chest, hips rutting against his leg, fingers wrapped around his girth.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he whispers, holding your naked body against his, fingers splayed across your ass for a tight grasp. He takes his other hand to brush a few strands of hair out of your face, looking down at your blissed out expression. “You’re so needy today, baby, aren’t you?”
You nod shamelessly, meeting his gaze with guileless eyes.
He massages the supple flesh of your ass with his palm, encouraging you to keep rocking your hips.
You let out a faint moan in response, release fast-approaching—if your erratic breaths are any indication.
Pressing a kiss to your forehead, “This morning wasn’t enough for you?”
“N-no,” you whimper, caressing him with languid strokes while your cheek rests on his sweat-slickened chest. “Want more.”
Jimin returns his fingers to your nipples, gently rolling them under the pads of his fingertips.
“Take it then, baby,” he encourages you softly. “Take what’s yours.”
You cum with a breathy cry, a shudder running through your frame, limbs going slack in his arms.
Jimin holds you close until the tremor makes its way through your system, pausing to afford you an opportunity to breathe before flipping you over and stuffing you full.
But the moment you catch your breath, your lips are on his.
He’s caught by surprise with how earnestly you kiss him, hands exploring his bare torso, but he accepts the advance easily, breathing life into the kiss with a gentle swipe of his tongue.
You reach to fiddle with the chain around his neck, entangling your fingers with the metal and making yourself comfortable on his chest.
It’s easy to melt into the feeling, your soft hair between his fingers, plush lips caressing his chin and cheeks, chest pressed up against his. In between heavy lids, he catches sight of your crossed legs, feet leisurely suspended in the air.
And the fact is equal parts endearing and amusing.
“Baby?”
“Hm?”
“I’m not complaining,” he says, smiling in between stolen kisses, “but I thought we were, you know—fucking.”
“You can put it inside,” you hum nonchalantly, continuing to lavish his lips with yours. “Just wanna kiss you for a little longer.”
He can’t help but chuckle at that, though he appreciates the brief lull—it allows the fog of adrenaline from the concert to clear. With his blind lust satiated by the eroticism of what transpired, he can appreciate your presence for what it is.
Comfort. Happiness that seems to seep through his skin and soak him down to his bones.
And so he focuses on the feeling of your lips—soft as the inside of a rose—as you align his cock with your entrance and sink down onto him.
“I love you so much,” he says softly, as your walls ease him into a tight, velvety embrace. The warmth spreads throughout him with an emanating pulse—and once he has your frame wrapped in his arms, his chest is full to the very brim. “You know that, right?”
An endeared smile fills your cheeks as you cup his face with both hands, peppering soft kisses to his nose, mouth, chin.
“You make it hard to forget,” you whisper, stroking his hair as you continue to kiss him, sucking gently on his lower lip. “I love you too, baby. Our kids are going to be so lucky to have you.”
His body responds for him, cheeks flushing pink, cock twitching inside you impatiently.
“Don’t say stuff like that,” he whines. “It’s hard enough for me to last these days.”
Your lips curve into a moony smile, eyes flitting down to his lips momentarily. 
It’s ineffable, what you convey with just that little look—a contrast between contentment, complete happiness, and anticipation, so much excitement and optimism for the future.
“It’s true. You’re going to be an amazing dad.”
His face is practically aflame, and for a moment, he forgets everything else.
“You really mean that?”
You’ve assured him a million times, but years of believing otherwise have left their scars. He’s lucky in that regard, that you’re willing to say it again and again, with as much conviction as the first time.
“I know it,” you assert with a tender gaze, stroking his cheek with your thumb. “I can’t wait to make you one.”
You have him under some sort of spell—he’s convinced of that. There’s a form of magic laced in that silvery voice of yours, because he truly believes you. He can see the best version of himself reflected in your eyes, someone selfless and loving, someone worthy of creating life with you.
With one last peck to your lips, he takes you by the waist, gently pulling you off his cock.
“Do you want me to—”
“It’s okay, baby. Just let me take care of you.” He shifts to lay beside you, situating his chest against your back. Snaking a hand between your legs, he rubs a few teasing circles into your clit, eagerly soaking up the pretty sighs that come from you in response.
Gently lifting your leg, he brings his cock to your dripping entrance, nudging your lips open with his head. Collecting more of your slick on his tip, he spreads it along his length with his palm, giving himself a few shallow pumps.
“My gorgeous wife,” he hums upon entering you—slowly, supporting your leg to keep you open wide as his girth forces your walls apart. “I’m gonna give you exactly what you want, I promise.”
As always, despite sliding in without resistance, his size still takes a moment for you to adjust to, and you let out a soft mewl when he finally bottoms out inside you.
“So big, Jiminie,” you whimper, cunt clenching around him erratically.
“Too much?” he asks immediately. “Am I hurting you?”
“No, no,” you shake your head. “It’s good—wanna be full of you.”
He presses a kiss to the back of your neck, attaching his lips there to suck a gentle bruise while his fingers return to your clit. Your silken walls pulse around his length as he flicks at your swollen bud, remaining buried deeply within you throughout.
Despite being unable to see your face, the intimacy conferred by this position—being able to spoon the curve of your backside, hands free to roam your tits and soon-to-be swollen belly—is incomparable. 
He can’t stop imagining what it’ll be like to feel your shared love growing inside you, to caress your rounded flesh as he holds you in this very position.
And though your soft moans communicate your own bliss as he continues to tease your clit, he can feel you grinding your ass back into him impatiently, begging for movement.
He complies, pulling out slightly, then testing shallow strokes to get you acclimated to the friction. Pleasured sighs fall from your lips with each rut, the sounds stringing together to form an intoxicating melody. Maintaining a persistent rhythm with his fingers, he pulls out almost completely, before fucking back into you deeper than before.
“Ah—god, Jimin, keep going,” you plead, prompting him to set a slow yet potent pace. “Don’t stop, please.”
He can’t anyways—doesn’t want to, relishing in the sound of his name falling from your lips over and over again. Your cunt is warm and wet around him, juices soaking his length and dripping down to his balls as he brings you towards your second orgasm. And he can feel your ringed muscles clench around his cock, their frenzy only intensifying when he pinches your clit deftly.  
With your thighs trembling around him, he carries you through your climax, maintaining gentle thrusts to help you ride out the euphoric release. The sounds you’re making only fueled the volition of his hips as they snap into you again and again, prepared to draw out his own cum.
When you finally collapse next to him, muscles spasming around his throbbing length, he slows to a still, reaching to pull your chin back towards him.
“Come here,” he says, meeting your plush lips with a deep, searing kiss. He slides his tongue against yours, caressing it in a manner equally as doting as it is lewd. He absentmindedly rubs your midsection as he does, tracing a circle around your navel with his fingertips.
When he pulls away a few moments later, he catches a glimpse of your eyes fluttering back open, sweat shimmering where your collar bones meet, damp strands of hair sticking to your skin. The sight sends his stomachs doing backflips.
“How are you feeling?”
You don’t hesitate. “Like I want you to fill me up already,” you whine impatiently, despite the fact that your breathing is still shallow from the intensity of your orgasm. “Please?”
He nods, smiling softly at your earnest eyes. He can’t help it, endeared by how blissfully unaware you are of how much self-control it takes for him not to. Sometimes it’s completely unpredictable—a heavy-lidded glance or a swivel of your hips and he’ll unravel like a teenager.
Not that you ever hold it against him when he does. If anything, you get a flattered glow to your cheeks, and he forgets the embarrassment in favor of enjoying the shy giggles that bubble from your lips.
“Anything my baby wants, she gets,” he reminds you with another chaste peck. He slips out of you momentarily to pull your thigh over his, turning you over so that you’re facing him.
He doesn’t waste any time re-entering you, cupping your ass with splayed fingers to draw your hips in. Your heat is sopping by this point, clamped walls coaxing out his release forcefully.
Eagerly scissoring your legs through his, you lean in impossibly close to press your soft tits against his chest, resting a hand on his waist.
“Okay?”
“Perfect,” you hum happily, closing your eyes.
He doesn’t have much leverage for his thrusts, but it isn't necessary, not like this. With his cock nestled perfectly inside you, your lips on his neck, short strokes are all it takes. His head kisses your cervix just barely, a gentle sigh into his skin alerting him to the perfect depth for each rocking movement.
“You’re so good to me,” he sighs, as you run your fingers through his hair, cradling his head. He holds your frame tightly in response, grinding his pelvis into yours to give you some more stimulation. The movement draws his attention to his chest, where your pebbled nipples graze against his skin.
He can’t resist the opportunity to take one of them into his mouth, sucking at the sensitive skin with an occasional flick and stripe of his tongue.
You squirm and whimper in response, the stimulation starting to overwhelm your senses.
Lifting his head with a lewd slurp, “You’re going to be such a beautiful mom,” he pants, his warm breath raising goosebumps around your saliva-coated nipple. He drops a kiss to each of your breasts, worshipping their perfect form, trying not to think about how gorgeous you’d look—nourishing the baby the two of you make. A sight to be reserved only for his eyes.
“Make me into one, Jiminie,” you request, in that melodic voice of yours—sweetly innocent and sensuous all the same. You meet his eyes with the most delicate of gazes, reaching to caress his jaw. “I waited so long for you to come into my life, I don’t want to wait anymore. Let’s make ourselves a family.”
He feels his balls tighten, the steady build in his core suddenly tipping over the edge, and he gently pushes you back down against the couch, rolling on top of you. Hooking an arm around your knee, he spreads you open as far as he can, tossing your leg over his shoulder.
And when he meets your anticipatory eyes, so open and earnest, looking at him as if he’s the center of your entire universe—
A groan of “I love you” is all he can manage before his cock begins throbbing inside of you, splashing thick coats of white against your walls. He continues rocking his hips gently as spurts of cum spill into you, his length pulsing while your tight muscles milk him dry.
As he finishes, slowing his strokes down to a still, you cling to his shoulders tightly, peppering his neck with kisses. Other than his chest heaving with panting breaths, he remains purposely motionless, keeping his cum plugged up inside you and enjoying the warmth of your heavenly cunt.
Only when he begins to soften and slip out of you does he stir again—
“Baby,” you whine, protesting his movements. “Don’t go anywhere.”
He chuckles lightly, simply reaching for a cushion from the other end of the couch and sliding it beneath your hips.
“Don’t worry, I’m not done with you just yet.”
Before you can respond, he ducks his head between your legs, ensuring that nothing is leaking out from your slit.
“I didn’t mean—ah!”
He attaches his lips to your clit, lathing your swollen nub with his tongue and draping your legs over his shoulder. Your ripe essence is mixed with his, and he can’t help the instinct to lap up the heady taste, shamelessly reveling in it. 
You instantly begin writhing under him, prompting him to pin your thighs down while he sucks at your sensitive bud.
“Too—too much,” you yammer between gasps. “I don’t—I can’t—”
“You can, sweetheart,” he assures you, relentless. “Need to make sure everything stays inside this pretty cunt of yours.”
You begin bucking your hips into him after a few perfectly-timed flicks of his tongue, waves of pleasure possessing your body. With your spine arched off the couch, your cries sound out with a crescendo, before a shiver marks your climax. The ebb of your release descends with a muted mewl, your thrashing limbs falling limp.
He drops a kiss to your ankle as he unwraps himself from your legs, guiding your feet to the elevated backrest of the couch.
“Are you comfortable like this?” he asks, slightly concerned—it isn’t exactly ideal to have your lower half sticking up in the air as it is.
But you nod without hesitation. “Just come cuddle with me.”
He obliges easily, crawling back up towards you to lay his head on your chest, extending an arm around your waist.
You wrap him up in an affectionate embrace, dropping a kiss to his forehead as he curls up to you.
“I love you so much,” you murmur into his hair. “So, so much.”
“Because I fuck you so well?” he teases, lifting his chin to give you a cheeky grin.
You roll your eyes, through your touch remains tender, fingertips tracing meaningless circles into his skin.
After a few minutes of silence, nothing but the sound of your chests rising and falling in tandem to speak of, “How long do you think it’ll take?” you ask quietly. “For me to get pregnant?”
With post-concert fatigue and fucked-out bliss flooding his senses, he has to force his eyes back open, slightly concerned by the pause in your voice.
“Six months to a year—that’s what the doctor said, right? Why?”
You hesitate for a beat, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m just wondering.”
It doesn’t make sense to worry this early in the process, but he bites back the instinct to tell you so. You’re a worrier by nature, and he knows that this decision places an unfair burden on your shoulders.
“Y/N.”
A gentle stroke of your cheek draws your gaze back to his face, and he gives you a tender smile.
“I want this as much as you do, but you’re always going to be enough for me.”
You smile weakly in response, eyes soft. “I know that, baby. Trust me, I do.”
“And you feel the same way, right?”
“Of course I do,” you reply without hesitation, almost indignant that he even asked.
He smiles, subconsciously reassured by how confidently you answered.
“I just—I love you a lot,” you explain sheepishly. “I want to share all that love with some tiny humans. Our tiny humans.”
The giddy sensation that fills Jimin’s chest has him floating on air.
“It’ll happen for us, one way or another,” he promises, taking your hand in his to give it a squeeze. “And don’t worry, I trust my swimmers.”
With an amused laugh, “Your swimmers have the easy job,” you reply. “My wrinkly old uterus is going to be the problem.”
“Don’t talk about your uterus like that,” he scolds you. “It’s perfect, just like the rest of you.”
If the look on your face is any indication, that was the right thing to say. Though you playfully feign otherwise.
“You’re such a cheeseball.”
Jimin smirks at that, puffing his chest out slightly. “A cheeseball you’re married to,” he gloats. “And want to make babies with.”
With a dreamy sigh, “I do,” you admit, cupping his face. “I love this cheeseball very much.”
You kiss him again softly, and he feels that inexplicable contrast tugging at his heart once more. 
He could live suspended in that very moment for the rest of eternity, and paradise would pale in comparison.
But he also has a lifetime to look forward to, one filled with unconditional love for the person he knows he’s meant to be with. Whether or not that love will manifest itself into tiny humans—that won’t change anything.
He pulls you in closer to enjoy a few more minutes of solace and intimacy, with the world kept at bay by the dressing room door. The crowds and blinding lights, the spectacle of his career—he loves all of it, but this is what keeps him going. A stillness that filters out all the white noise, attuning his senses to what really matters.
Your thrumming heartbeat lulls him into quietude, both of you blissfully unaware of the bud that started to bloom inside of you a few days ago.
And you’ll have a few more days of calm to enjoy, before the appearance of a simple blue line will mark the beginning of your next adventure together.
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nochueso · a month ago
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Rich People Shit
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➱ summary: I really just wanted to write rich!Jungkook. Jungkook approaches you with a proposition of friendship. He wants to spoil you shitless with designer everything, and you both end up really fucking liking each other.
➱ word count: 11k
➱ genres: smut, fluff, rich!jk x reader
➱ includes: cursing, unprotected sex (be safe out there yall), virgin!jk, virgin!reader, literally smut idk what to say rlly you're either gonna read it or not lol!
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Silently, you sat on the steps of the entrance to a very pristine, very flamboyant, and affluent University. You never thought you’d ever be here nor did you think you’d be sitting on its steps– like an actual student. Yet, here you sit, quietly, mysteriously, with a dash of pride, paging through the “Luxury” magazine in your lap. You sighed for a second, looking away from the glossy pages to take in your surroundings from the top of your sunglasses. You squinted, watching the students parade by. You could tell, you weren’t like them, you may even never be. You may dress like them, talk like them, walk like them, act like them, but on the inside you are not one of them.
On paper, you are not one of them either. You are not a student here.
You looked back at your magazine.
Surely, you applied last year, friends and family pestered you to at least give it a try, then you had actually thought you had a chance. But you see, when you’re not a trust fund baby, or have parents with cash basically flowing out of their assholes, then you really did not have a chance at this school built on classism and wealth. So why were you even here? The thing is, you might actually be a mastermind, or you may just be naively stupid.
You came here to fish.
You were still a student, just not here, your shabbier university– for the commoners– was just a few blocks away, so it was always easy for you to come here between classes, to get your work done, or just contemplate nothing.
There isn’t a pond or lake at this school, nor is there a river or fishing pier. You came here for a very specific kind of fish. Fish without gills. Fish that don’t spend their lives in water. Fish that can walk. Fish with a specific kind of gait that oozes an overflowing bank account. A handsome little fish. A handsome little fish that can make your dreams of owning pieces of fucking name brand clothing true.
Some Gucci to be specific. You like Gucci, maybe even some Dior, and Alexander Wang. You nodded silently at the reminder of your motives.
Today was your fourth Thursday sitting on these god awful steps that pierced your ass bones. Pelvis? Who cares, you’re not an anatomy major. If that’s even a thing– biology, pre-med, most likely is what it’s called.
That means this is your fourth week, and it’s once again coming to a near end. Four weeks. Still no fish. You remind yourself that fishing requires patience. Fishing requires a careful skill of observation and strict mental control. You need to be ready for the slightest tug. The slightest tug of your prey taking the bait you’ve so carefully laid out for them. Your bait was you of course. Who wouldn’t want a taste of you? Well...that wasn’t the best question to ask. Let’s rephrase that. Who wouldn’t want a taste of a classy mystery woman sitting on the steps of a school where only cream of the crop students go? That sounded better. You were oozing confidence out of your pores as you sat on those demonic stairs, your black sunglasses shielding your eyes from the cloudy sky. And your outfit, oh golly gee your outfit... Only the best of the best from your closet ever gets to see these steps. These fucking ste–
“What language is that?”
In the midst of your tumultuous thoughts, you failed to take note of the random stranger who came to sit to your left. Nonchalantly staring over to your magazine, seemingly interested in whatever the hell you were reading. You questioned whether you should even look over, whether you should feign ignorance to push your “mystery” woman agenda. You didn’t have very strong self-restraint. So you turned...slightly. Your face in the direction of his feet, your eyes are however on his.
Jesus, this man was fucking hot. Diabolically so. You had a hot flash just by looking at him. You started getting dizzy too, there were stars flying around him. Perhaps you just got hemorrhoids from how satanically sexy this man was in the face. And you didn’t even get to the rest of him yet. You hoped the rest of him wouldn’t disappoint you. You see, perfect people are rare, it’s either they have a pretty face or a pretty bod. He probably had a missing toe or something with that perfect face of his.
Your answer was simple. Disregard.
You flipped to the next page. Your hands are nearly shaking from the pressure of this ridiculously gorgeous man’s eyes on you. You could feel him drilling holes through you with those evil brown sex eyes. You tried to steady yourself, as unnoticeably as possible. ‘Remember your goal, remember your destiny!’ The voice inside your head yelled.
When he didn’t leave, even after you had ignored his existence, and effect on you, this was your chance to find out if the fish really took the bait and got fucking stuck on it.
“Is there something you need?” You trailed your eyes back to him, once again feigning distaste and annoyance.
He looked down for a bit. You bit your bottom lip, not sure whether you had hurt him with your words. Then he looked out towards the green park in front of you both: a number of students having picnics and walking around in friend groups.
“Trying to talk to people today is so hard. No one wants a stranger coming up to them, it’s not normal anymore. Everyone meets on instagram and snapchat and twitter, sliding into DMs and all that.” He speaks in a low voice, melancholic almost. His elbows on the steps behind him, resting. Fuck he was sexy. You could tell he was genuine. He got up. Shit shit shit shit.
He placed his hands in his pockets, “Just wanted to talk to a pretty girl.” He smiled, his eyes drowning you in guilt. With that he turned around, slowly stepping down the stairs.
“It’s French.” You called out after him. the classic romance language you had chosen to learn as your language requirement. It’s not like you understood much of it, but looking at pretty pictures and deciphering a word and a sentence every now and then was fun, and you used it to convince yourself that you were actually learning from it. You weren’t.
His head turned back towards you, rapidly, with one of the most magnificent smiles you’d ever laid eyes upon. The butterflies in your stomach were having a field day. He came back and sat next to you, this time a bit closer. Close enough to where you could smell him. A sweet smell, not the usual smell of cologne that most men wore. He was wearing ladies perfume. It was odd, but it made you feel more relaxed, like there was no way this man could ever do anything wrong.
“So, are you a linguist major here?” He badgered you with another question. Like a child that had just won a prize at a carnival game. Why he was making assumptions about you was beyond you. It was a bit bothersome though, you never liked when people would ask assumptive questions, why don’t they let you give the details.
“I’m not, if we’re going to talk please stop making assumptions.” You sighed.
“Sorry. My name is Jungkook. And now I’m gonna stop talking and let you tell me about yourself instead...if you want to. You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.” Nervous, that was cute.
“Well...” You looked at him. Unsure of what to tell him. You didn’t want to lie. You hated lying, and you didn’t understand the point of it. Why lie about yourself to others when you can just hide the truth. When you can be deceiving just by saying the right things and leaving the rest out. However though, you were feeling rather bold today, like, you didn’t really give a fuck. Though his face looked so fucking kissable, delectable, ravishing, his outift was rather plain, and one thing you knew about the kids at this school was that they didn’t love anything more than to show off with daddy’s money. The man before you was just wearing a black shirt, black baggy pants and black sneakers. Very simple. Was he just being modest perhaps? Humble. Or was he one of the affirmative action kids? A super smart athlete from a poor home on a full scholarship? Or maybe just a smart kid that got in from his own diligence, from a lower middle class family?
“I’m fishing.” Your words made him raise his eyebrows, perplexed.
“Fishing for what?” You were expecting him to assume something again, but he didn’t, he kept his word, letting you answer.
“Rich little assholes with too much money to spend, so I can offer some assistance in spending that money.” Your eyes squinted with a hint of evil genius.
He laughed. A roar almost. His head was thrown back and his teeth, eerily similar to those of a bunny’s, were now on display, he’s adorable. You flushed, elated, that you made this beautiful human being laugh. You could add this to your bucket list and check it off now if you even had one, ‘1. Make a super, incredibly, sexy, hot, cute, handsome, pretty guy laugh.’ In the box next to it a little check mark to display your success. But your mouth turned into a frown, confused on why he was laughing at your meticulously thought out plan that was sure to score you some sweet sweet cash.
“How’s that going for you?” He said through giggles.
“Not great, haven’t gotten a single fish yet, unfortunately.”
“Why are you doing this, if I may ask?”
“Well, it’s not like I want to get married to them or anything. I guess my reasoning is quite materialistic. I just want some Gucci pieces that I’ve been thinking of for the last two months. I’ve got five-k in my savings, and half the shit on here costs five thousand bucks.” You slap the magazine page in front of you with the back of your palm, like an old smoker upset that his lighter is out of fluid. “The other half more than that. So I had to devise a plan, obviously.” You shrug as if it were obvious and you were explaining to a five year old. You just spilled the entirety of your reasoning to this man you’ve known for five minutes. You should’ve stopped yourself, but there was just something about him that made you tell all the truth, not just tiny bits of it.
“Interesting.”
That was all he said to you, no laugh this time, not even a giggle or a smile. This time he just looked at you. Glazed over you. Studied you. You felt nervous. You removed your sunglasses, in hopes of looking less ridiculous on a cloudy day. You didn’t notice it, but his eyes sharpened. You worried that you may have scared him off, maybe he was a rich prick and your poverty disgusted him.
Jungkook thought that he had scored. He’d noticed you the first day you sat on those stairs, those stairs that were too tough to sit on, so you were usually the only one on them, he wondered if you were actually comfortable. You were impossible not to be noticed, but maybe that was just him. He always saw you paging through a new magazine, he wondered if you were a fashion student, the way you dressed and the specific magazines that you always seemed to bring.
One could say he had created narratives in his head about you, he gave you a personality, a name, a major, he undressed you with his ey–
He wanted to get to know you. He had spent his past time between classes in his usual spot by the tall, ancient tree at the edge of the park placed perfectly in front of you. And so, he spent each day there, and so did you, and he was delighted to know that he would see you each day, except on weekends. The class he would leave to come here, Economics 101, a pain in the ass, but it ended at 11:45 am every other day. So on the days he had this class, he would be prepared to speed walk, sometimes even sprint out of the classroom at precisely 11:45 each time. He was always the first to walk through the exit doors, just so he wouldn’t miss a single second to see you. Maybe it was creepy, or maybe it was just what they called “Le coup de foudre” he mouthed. Love at first sight.
He knew you weren’t a student here because every student here had tried sitting on those stairs every once in a while, but they’d always find a better place around campus to idle in. You, on the other hand, always returned to the exact same spot, but he couldn’t figure you out. He couldn’t understand why you constantly returned there. So one final day, he ventured out, to finally crack the case, and shatter every other possible story he had created in his mind palace, and perhaps build a real one, where it would be just you and him.
“French,” you had said. But he obviously already knew this. Who couldn’t recognize one of the most famous languages to exist on this earth. He hoped you didn’t think he was stupid, but it would be fare anyways, since you were holding the magazine upside down. He was relieved though, that you had called out for him to return. You gave him a chance, and he wouldn’t waste it.
You shared your diabolical evil genius plan with him, and he was appreciative of the fact that you were so honest with him. He was able to finally connect the last red string to the correct picture on the detective board in his head. But it took him a minute to figure out you weren’t joking.
“Interesting,” he had said. Quizzically studying you when you had spilled your entire scheme to him without a single laugh or even a giggle, snortle, chuckle, swift inhale. Nothing. So he knew you weren’t kidding. Your lip quivered like you had regretted telling him all this information. So, he decided to make an appropriate proposition, a proposition of friendship.
“I’ll buy you whatever you want.”
He watched as you stared at him, mouth slightly agape like you were torn between believing his offer or breaking out in a boisterous laugh. He needed to be a bit more convincing.
“You have five-k in your savings, I have fifty million.” He shifted his gaze from your bewildered face to your upside-down magazine. For someone that was so nonchalant a few minutes ago, you weren’t holding up too well now. He thought about how you wouldn’t actually be able to go through with your plan had it actually been one of these other rich trust fund assholes you had aforementioned. Because first of all, they wouldn’t have stuck around after your first act of obtuseness. He grabbed the magazine out of your nimble fingers, flipped it over, and went back a page. The designer pieces that were seducing you not that long ago, and he brought out his phone that sat in his front pocket. Dialed the little number that hid at the bottom of the page, and you both sat patiently as it rang next to his ear.
“Yes hello, I’d like to purchase the Gucci wool coat with leather details in your...” He flipped the magazine to see its cover. “Luxury twenty twenty-one Spring issue magazine....Yes....Yes the one that costs forty-five hundred...” He glanced over you for a moment to register your reaction, raising an eyebrow as you had your bottom lip between your teeth. Something in him ignited.
“Actually, can you add everything else too? Yes, I’d like to purchase all your uhhh... Gucci and Alexander Wang, Bottega Veneta, Zimmermann, Dior and Chanel pieces on display in your magazine as well...Am I sure? Yes...Oh um..” He glanced back to you, this time seriously eyeing you like a piece of meat. But he was just trying to figure out what kind of size you probably wore. “Can you send (Y/N's usual size) and (a size smaller)? We’ll try them on and return the ones that don’t fit...Yes...Just charge my account Jeon Jungkook, I’m already a member...Yes same shipping address...Thank you.” With his final thanks, he hung up, closed the magazine, and turned to face you.
He found you stuttering something but every time a word came to your tongue you closed your mouth, prohibiting it from escaping the gates of your mind. Jungkook grinned, not a sly grin, not a smirk, a grin of amusement, like he had never seen a sight so rewarding. He understood you now. You weren’t rude, or mean, or crude, you were a sweetheart, a gentle soul, a naive one too. You didn’t think things through, yet you had an immense amount of motivation, that wasn’t something that goes hand in hand but you were lucky, it worked for you. You had put up an act, a poor one at that. You were probably a goofball, the way you hadn’t even been paying attention to your magazine, probably too lost in thought to care for it anymore.
“It’ll all be at my house by tomorrow evening if you want to come pick it up.” He placed the magazine back into your nimble fingers.
Jungkook had no evil intentions or plans, he was truly a genuine guy, kind and endearing once you knew him, he would never try anything that would make you uncomfortable which is why he didn’t ask for your address to send it to.
“Do...” You paused. “Do you want something in return?” You asked. Now Jungkook was hit with a wave of anguish. He knew exactly what you were thinking, or at least he had an idea, you were terrified, and that was the very last thing he wanted. He could see the way you gripped your hands together to keep them from trembling, and he nearly dropped to his knees in apologies. He knew you probably thought that by doing this he had forced you into some sort of putrid debt that you’d be demanded to repay in various forms, and oh did he not want that.
“No!” He nearly yelled, his voice unexpectedly louder than he wanted. “No, I don’t want anything, it’s all yours, I just didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable if I asked for your address to send it to.” He waved his hands, not taking a single breath between words. He surely did not want this to be the last time you saw each other, so he did his best.
Oh you were trembling alright. Trembling because you couldn’t hold yourself back much longer from swallowing this man whole right then and there. A small inch inside of you had actually hoped for Jungkook to ask for something in return, even if it was just a cup of coffee, you wouldn’t have even minded if he was an asshole because you would let him ruin you. There was just something about money that made you squirm, pleasantly. You know that money apparently doesn’t buy happiness, but it sure as hell bought something inside of you, and that face of his helped in swaying you even further.
“Alright.” You laughed.
“So, why Gucci? I personally prefer H&M.” He asked
“I can tell.” You gestured to his all-black ensemble with your eyes.
“I’m not going to take that as an insult because you look like you’re dressed for a runway show right now, but you’re sitting on some butt aching steps.”
“Well thank you, I take pride in my outfits. And I don’t know, do you have something softer to sit on?”
“Depends.” He said. You raised your eyebrow, challenging him.
“On?” You persisted him, eager to hear the very obvious answer to his obnoxious yet somewhat endearing flirtatious remark.
He doesn’t answer you, instead choosing to rub his palms across his thighs, as if they were slick with sweat, looking at you then away with a teasing grin. You wanted to wipe it off his face.
The both of you spent the rest of the day chattering on about each other while he showed you his favorite hiding places on campus. He told you stories about his many extravagant trips with his just as extravagant family and friends because you asked him to. And you in turn told him about the numerous shenanigans you pulled at your previous part-time jobs, always ending up in trouble one way or another because you didn’t like the way the customer spoke at you.
“No way!” You exclaimed, your hand slapping his bicep.
“My thoughts exactly!” He laughed, his hand coming up to hold his ear.
“I didn’t actually think rich people were that stupid, wow.” You gleamed at him. “No offense to you.”
He clutched his chest to signify the cliche look of hurt. “I’m actually at the top of all my classes.”
“And I’m a porn star with a side hustle of being the queen of Australia.” You teased.
“Wouldn’t that just be the queen of England?”
“Which one?” You both burst out laughing, loud boisterous laughs that quickly turned into snorts and chortles, mixing into indecipherable sounds that could be used as background noise for a ritual.
Jungkook had ended up walking you all the way to the cafe that was next to your campus dorms, a gentleman.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, I hope?” He said,.
“You will.” You replied with a smile. Jungkook thought that your smile could make the brightest star in the universe cower in defeat.
Jungkook took a single step back, preparing to take his leave but unable to take his eyes off you until you were the one to turn and depart. And it was quick. A peck on the cheek and you were running. Fleeing the scene of the crime where your dignity was killed in action. And Jungkook stood suspended, his hand on his cheek, a smile on his lips, and he knew then, that there was no way he’d be able to stop thinking about you.
You laid in bed reminiscing about today's events. When Jungkook had turned out to be a total sweetheart you were caught completely off guard. You were thinking he would ask you for sex or something, some sort of fuck buddy relationship perhaps, and that in return he’d shower you in extravagant gifts. Perhaps he was just doing a good deed. Helping the needy. But he had invited you to come to his home. So this wasn’t the last time he wanted to see you, and this made you excited. You weren’t sure what to do next though, you didn’t have much experience in this...area. Never haven taken interest in anyone because they just never seemed to satisfy your plethora of expectations, and you never lowered your standards. Then you thought about the kiss, or peck, whatever that crime of passion was. You were able to catch a glimpse of Jungkook’s face before you booked it, gone behind a building, and what you saw was the sweet shock of fondness. He didn’t hate it, and you were zealous.
On the other end, Jungkook could barely contain himself, he’d be seeing you again tomorrow. Don’t even get him started with the kiss, he had nearly grabbed you and given you a proper one, but you were gone too quickly. Even if you didn’t run, he would’ve still kept to himself, not wanting to push you into anything you didn’t want, allowing you to show him what you were comfortable with.
Friday evening came quickly. And as you approached Jungkook’s home, a literal mansion that cost you thirty bucks in an uber to get to, you thought about your plan. In all honestly, you didn’t have one even though you had ample time to think of one on your ride here, you came up blank. Because of your awfully picky nature in men, you had little to no experience, and right now you were coming up empty and decided to opt for plan B: let the lady make the decisions! By lady you meant your punani. If she wanted to go wild with this heavenly looking man then so be it. Even though you were most likely not going to be getting into bed with him tonight and entrancing him with your magical pussy, you still wore your favorite pieces of lingerie– the best that your broke college student money could buy. And so you put on your fake-it-till-you-make-it confidence and sashayed over to his three-meter tall doors. You rang the doorbell.
Within a minute you were met with his sweet smile. The smile you didn’t know you missed. And your eyes were naturally pulled towards it. And now your eyes were on his lips, and you watched as he licked them, and now you wanted to lick them. You were like a child, eyeing candy. You let your eyes drop lower, today he was wearing a tighter shirt, the type that was loose towards the abdomen but was tight at his arms because his arms were powerful– he was stacked. That was the men’s equivalence of a whore shirt. He was being a whore. You noticed the tattoo sleeve on his right arm, and you knew this man was actually perfect. He had no missing toe.
And Jungkook watched you. He knew you were checking him out because he was checking you out too. The way you bit your lip when you saw him lick his. His eyes naturally fell to your exposed legs, and were you carrying a pretty set.
“Hi, I’m glad you came.” He said.
“Me too.” The tension between you two strangling any other words that could be spoken, instead letting each other’s eyes battle to the death.
Jungkook stepped aside to let you in. You marveled at the interior of his home. Overwhelmed by how much it must have all cost. “Holy shit.” You felt a hand on the small of your back.
“Your items are in my room, I can have them packed up for you if you want?” Jungkook said, bringing you back to your senses.
But you didn’t, you wanted to spend as much time with him as you could because if you were being honest, you wanted to get to know him (too). You wanted to understand his motives, why he did it, and why he approached you.
“No, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to try them on first.” You gently touched his arm, the one that was on your back, the one laced in beautiful works of art. There was a certain awkwardness in the air now.
So with that, Jungkook led you up to his room, up the huge marble spiral stairs, down the hallway, and at the very end, the third door to your right, was his little cove. It definitely was not little. His tremendous cove. He had a king-sized bed at the very end of his room, and there was probably enough room for twenty more of those. And by his bed was the entrance to his closet, next to the closet entrance were three clothing racks filled with clothes, and beside those were a couple of purses and bags and smaller boxes. And he had beautiful huge windows on the west wall, opposite from the door you entered through. The windows basically took up the entirety of the wall, and your thoughts ran wild.
“I never got to ask but, why?” You looked at him. He was already looking at you. And you think you caught him. His head was slightly tilted and his eyes were on yours, and you saw a faint smirk, and a lip bite, and you think that for a second you were hallucinating because as quickly as you saw it, it just as quickly disappeared.
“Why did I buy you those things?” He pointed his chin to the clothes in the corner of the room. And you forgot how beautifully sculpted Jungkook was, his side profile a perfect silhouette.
“Yes.” You whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear, so he came closer.
“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you.” He was a head away from bumping into yours, and his eyes were pacing back and forth between yours and your lips, which were now pinker from the blood rushing towards them. But you whispered again because you wanted him even closer, “Yes.” But he didn’t move, sadly.
“You wanted to waste some jerk’s money, so I offered mine.” It was then that he stepped closer, and you could feel his breath on your skin. “I don’t think I’m much of a jerk though, sorry if you were looking for that too.” He added in a lower tone, one you had to pay attention to in order to catch every vibration. Your breathing became ragged, shaky and you weren’t sure if he was doing this on purpose.
“I wasn’t, I don’t really like jerks actually.” You moved your arm, gently placing it on his chest. Jungkook took it as a warning, do not wander further than my palm. He wasn’t sure why, but he surely didn’t want to mistake it for an invitation.
“Where can I try them on?” You smiled.
“There’s a walking closet right next to the racks, feel free to use it.” He took a step back.
“Thank you.”
“Or you could just use my room.” Jungkook froze, he wasn’t sure if he had actually said that out loud. It was just a passing thought in his head, and now he was mortified. He searched your eyes fervently for a reaction.
“Thank you for the offer, Jungkook, I’ll keep that in mind.” You took it as another one of Jungkook’s obnoxious jokes, like eighty percent of your conversations with Jungkook usually entailed. But silently, you wished he wasn’t joking.
Jungkook, however, felt his soul rise from his body and go far, far away. The way his name rolled off your tongue like a sweet melody, he would do anything to hear that again. He hadn’t even noticed any of the other words you said like they were all blurred except for his name, and it drove him crazy. You left him standing there, like a frozen popsicle. But your hand burned, it pulsated, from being on his chest, from feeling him flex under your palm, and it was exhilarating. You wanted to feel him again, but next time without a piece of clothing blocking the sensation.
Jungkook wasn’t used to bringing women home, the last time a girl was in his room was before his sixth grade dance, and it was only because she was amongst the rest of his little friend group. They were all going to the dance together, and Jungkook had told them he had snacks in his room, so they all rushed up to get some before leaving. Pathetic surely, for someone his age. But he never cared enough to go out of his way to find someone to share the majority of his time with, he never thought he needed to. He was always given everything he wanted or needed from birth, and until four weeks ago he didn’t realize that he did in fact want one more thing. Or perhaps he needed it? Love at first sight, what an idiotic concept.
For someone like Jungkook, it wasn’t uncommon to get married the moment he graduated, to another crazy rich person. In these circumstances, you marry someone you could tolerate, someone easy on the eyes too, and you just hope to see that person as little as possible. So you both have affairs, multiple, and it’s no secret, everyone knows, even friends, and family, they all know. It always made Jungkook’s stomach churn, at the mere thought of it all, the lack of integrity. He had met plenty of good-looking, rich, women, but they never seemed to stimulate him mentally. It was always a ‘Jungkook you’re so funny!’ and a firm grip of his thigh, when all he had said was that he didn’t care where they’d go eat, they could just watch Netflix instead. And he’d look at them, detached, then hail that he wasn’t feeling too well, and retire to his room. And the girls would always leave. They’d freshen up their lipstick as if they had another scheduled date before stepping out the door.
Jungkook was surely the black sheep of his family, his entire environment, and not in a bad way. He just didn’t behave like the others, he didn’t share their same mentality. Jungkook preferred to meditate than to go clubbing, he preferred to go to a local cafe than on a jet to Singapore for the weekend. Yes, he had seen and done his fair share of rich people things, but he was still always grateful for the plate of food that his personal chef would place in front of him, bowing to show his gratitude. Obviously, the staff in Jungkook’s home were all incredibly fond of him because of that, knowing this little prince from birth, watching him grow into a genuine and respectful young man.
Truthfully, Jungkook wasn’t really aware of the effect he had on people. He was a charmer, but he was kind too. So everything he ever said, whether it be a compliment, or a random remark on the nice weather, he meant it all one hundred percent. But Jungkook also didn’t say much, which is why he was never able to be properly understood by anyone but his family, staff, and very close friends, and maybe now even you. With you, Jungkook didn’t even feel the need to sat much, the glances you shared seem to fill in forty percent of your conversations. A single glance could mean you two would start barking like rabid dogs, or it could mean a ‘shut the fuck up you can’t be serious’, or even a ‘I will actually punch a hole in your smug little face right now.’
When you walked out of his closet with the first full outfit that fit, he was laying on his bed, hands behind his head and he jumped up at the sound of your entrance. You posed ridiculously for him and giggled. You were happy, and that was all he wanted. He winked, then whistled, eyeing you. You knew he was joking but you couldn’t help but blush, this was his effect, this was what he did to you. And now you really wanted to kiss him, and he really wanted to kiss you, but he didn’t want you to think that was what he did all this for because it wasn’t. He didn’t want you to think that was all he had wanted.
You both quickly fell into conversation, loudly speaking to each other through the thick doors of the closet. Every now and then you’d poke your half-dressed head through the doors to say something or make sure you heard Jungkook correctly, a ‘What?’ and ‘Harhar very funny’ spoken every now and then. Jungkook now stood by the doors with his back against the wall and face towards the ceiling. And you’d think you were going crazy with the way he would look at you, like he had never seen something so divine. He’d never say anything, no ‘You look beautiful’ or even a ‘Wow’, none, he would just stare in awe with his mouth slightly ajar. And you would chuckle, every time. The both of you didn’t seem to be too good with words, never able to quite find any to properly use in describing your feelings.
So when you finally asked him, “How do I look?” he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you closer, and said with the most serious look on his face, “Like the queen of Australia.” And you stared at each other, in disbelief, both of your eyes racing each other to look from one to the other, both your lips perked and quivering with the familiar wave of a roar that was surely soon to burst through the both of you. Like an explosion, the glee was released. You grabbed his shoulders to keep you balanced as you threw your head backward, your upper body following. And Jungkook was able to open his eyes slightly, through the tears he ogled at your neck, then at your face that shared an image of pure joy. He admired the way your lips parted way for your teeth, and the scrunches on your nose, the smile lines that led from the edge of your nose to the edge of your lips.
“You’re funny.” You said, dazed out of your mind and knocking on his chest, the dopamine coursing through your brain surely mixed with some oxytocin. And it was the same for Jungkook. You thought about the way his hands felt on your waist, leaving a ghostish touch, gentle and comforting.
“Wouldn’t it be even funnier if I kissed you right now?” His eyes were staring at yours with rapt attention. And you answered with an energetic nod, like you had been waiting for this question for years.
It was quick, his lips were on yours, soft, gentle. They glided against yours almost too perfectly like they belonged to you. Jungkook couldn’t get enough of the feeling of your mouth on his, so he was kissing you deeper, more fervently, like he didn’t even need to breathe. Your breaths fanned each other, exasperated sighs as you both inhaled every five seconds for air because you refused to separate. Jungkook felt a warmth blossom within him, the feeling of your arms wrapping around his head to pull him in closer. The two of you began clumsily stumbling towards his bed, the back of Jungkook’s knees hitting the edge first and he fell backward, you on top of him. Now you were peering at him from above, hair framing your face like a painting, and Jungkook adored the way you looked at him with your half lidded eyes through your long eyelashes. He was in paradise. No other paradise he had ever been in, no island vacation or shopping spree in Singapore could compare to the paradise he was in right now, with you. And he knew then that he wanted to share his world with you, and he could only hope and wish that you share yours with him too.
Jungkook caressed your cheek, gentle swipes across your cheekbones with his thumb. His eyes deeply focused on memorizing your every pore. If he told you he was counting your scars you would probably slap him out of embarrassment. He flipped you over, took off his shirt, and kissed you once more. This time it was quick, rushed, like he couldn’t get enough of you before the time was up.
“Can I?” He tugged at the hem of your top. And you nodded, hesitantly, your bottom lip between your teeth. “I won’t do anything you don’t want.” He reassured you, as if reading your mind, following his statement with a soft kiss on your forehead. “So tell me, what do you want?” He trailed his thumb across your bottom lip, slipping it into your mouth, entranced by the way you took him in.
“Can I just have you?” You looked up at him, from eyeing his topless body. That alone had you pressing your thighs together. Your hands all over him, as if your eyes were closed and you were trying to picture him in your mind through your touch. Then you took his left hand with yours, and your right hand trailed down to grab his crotch, and you moved his hand down to yours. “But I don’t want these two to meet yet.” You snickered. Jungkook found you so amusing, his lips perking into an endearing grin. “That won’t be a problem, princess.” Your tummy did a little flip at his pet name, the way he purred it to you making you go a little crazy.
The rest of the night was spent touching and kissing and touching and kissing. And when Jungkook asked if he could ‘massage you down there’ you took his hand once more and slipped it into your panties. And when you were both in your underwear, Jungkook couldn’t stop drooling over you, the black lacy lingerie that you had worn just for him, hugging every one of your curves as if they were specially handcrafted for you. He proceeded to bite the hem of your panties, tugging them off gently while stopping to lick your thigh every now and then. Jungkook truly did not care that he wouldn’t be having sex with you. He loved this just as much. He loved the way your breath hitched when he slipped his fingers inside you, and the way your nails dug into his arm and his back pulling him closer and closer until you were glued together. Your lips never parting even through muffled moans. You touched him too, you felt the way he twitched in your palm, and it made you giddy when he would shiver in pleasure, biting your lip and curling your toes from excitement. And Jungkook would mutter your name beside your ear anytime you teased him a bit too much, "Y/N, baby, you're driving me crazy." Accompanied by his vulnerable whines and gasps. You guided each other, until you both reached the finish line. And you did this until it was late into the night. Reaching the finish line a number of times, in a number of different ways.
You laid in each other’s embrace, whispering sweet nothings to each other through flirtatious kisses. The kind of fondness between you resembled that of hopeless romantics. And that was exactly what the two of you were. Jungkook’s hand caressing your arm, and you outlining his tattoos with your finger.
“Are you hungry?”
“Starving.” You replied with a hearty laugh.
Jungkook reached over to his bedside to grab his phone. Returning to you he asked, “What do you want to eat, pretty?”
“Whatever you have to offer, handsome.” Your flirting was disgusting, but you both didn’t care.
Jungkook then called his chef, even though it was like 1am in the morning. “I am so sorry for waking you up Mister Young, but I would really appreciate it if you could cook up a meal for two, please.” Your heart instantly melted at the sweetness that Jungkook displayed, truly a kind-hearted gentleman. Mister Young was not at all bothered by Jungkook’s request, in fact, he was overly excited for young sir, this being the first time he had ever requested a meal for two at 1 am in the morning. A sense of pride filled him, happy for the young prince who had possibly found someone to be happy with, finally.
Jungkook turned to you, a grin on his face, “You know, I barely know you.” He said.
“Why lie?” You replied.
You were right. Jungkook did actually know you. He had a private investigator do a background check on you this morning. In Jungkook’s world, it was just out of precaution. There’s always a new story that finds its way to him about someone in their circle being another victim of fraud. He just wanted to make sure that the woman he felt himself falling for, was real.
“How did you know?” Jungkook’s mouth slightly agape.
“You just told me.” You grinned. And Jungkook loved the way you made him feel like a fool. You were joking at first of course, but when Jungkook ironically confessed you put two and two together. Figuring that a person of his stature would surely have the means to know what the name of your pet hamster from when you were seven was. You didn’t really care since you had already told him much of it yourself, all he did was cross-check with the records available to him. But now he owed you, big time.
“You owe me now.” You said.
“Like I said, anything you want, whenever you want.”
Over his shoulder, your eyes noticed something that you were inspecting earlier.
“How about... for next time... or whenever I um, come around to it...” You paused to build up your courage while Jungkook turned to what your eyes were peering at. “We do it against those.” You were both now glancing at Jungkook’s window-filled wall.
“Baby...” He turned to you, eyes wide like he was on cocaine, shifting beneath the sheets before slithering nearer to you like an injured puppy placing his face in the crook of your neck. “You’re so sexy.” He whined into your neck, drawing out the ‘y’ at the end.
He looked up at you, his big doe eyes in action, "What are you doing next week?" A cunning smirk sneaking onto his face.
"Well, I'm scheduled at work for like twenty hours, then I have classes to attend..." You mindlessly listed off the things you were going to do next week as if you weren't speaking to Jeon Jungkook, as if he was just a random commoner–like yourself–looking to ask you out on a simple dinner date.
"Come to Fiji with me?"
Wow, you were not expecting that, and it clearly showed on your face. However, it was not at all like you to turn down this kind of offer just to slave around at a job you despised. Your classes you could easily catch up on. Your mind was made up, but Jungkook didn't know that, so you wanted to tease him a bit.
"I don't know." You exhaled as if torn between the 'very difficult' decision.
"Please." Jungkook whined, lengthening the vowels. "I have to take you on a date. Our first official date." He coaxed.
"And us spending the whole day together yesterday wasn't a date to you?" You asked, genuinely puzzled.
"I said o-ffi-cial." He carefully pronounced each sound in the word 'official' to make it clearer.
"And you can’t just take me out to dinner?" You provoked. Jungkook pouted at you, "That’s boring, I’m not a boring guy." And you knew this already, from some of his earlier ministrations.
"Did someone say skinny dipping?" You yelled, frantically searching the room for an imaginary person. Jungkook’s eyes lit up. "I'm fucking with you, of course I'll go." You finally gave in, unable to compete against his pout.
Jungkook didn't even give you time to pack anything, telling you he'd buy you whatever you needed later. You had both ended up sleeping well into Saturday afternoon in a tangled mess on his bed: your leg was thrown over him, his hand instinctively on your ass all night, or he'd be spooning you and have his hand down the boxers he let you borrow. One way or the other, he made sure those butterflies didn't leave your stomach from his touches. Later in the evening, you were both driven to the airport to board Jungkook's own private jet. He told you how every member in his family had their own designated plane all because of an incident where his older brother had taken the plane to see his girlfriend in Amsterdam when his dad had a meeting to attend in Malaysia.
"It was a huge thing." He said. "My dad was like fuming, you could practically see the smoke coming out of his ears, he was yelling into the phone at my brother like 'You better bring that plane back this instant or else I'm selling your Rolls-Royce!' it was hilarious." You laughed in both amusement and agony, this was really some rich people shit that you could not wrap your head around.
"It was my brother's favorite one too." Jungkook snorted. You connected the dots that the car was indeed sold.
"That's insane..." You looked down at your entangled hands. "Our lives are really different, Jungkook." Your throat started to burn from realization, you were in the car on your way to another fucking country with someone you had just met a day ago. The adrenaline and desire overwhelming the practical part of your brain that would've probably been screaming 'Don't! Don't' at every decision you ended up making to spend more and more time with Jungkook. You thought about the home you had grown up in, the two-bedroom home that was just enough for you and your parents. You had nothing to offer Jungkook, and here he was spending all this cash on a stranger. You wondered if he did this with every pretty girl, then dropped them a week later once he got bored. Probably shouldn’t have let miss lady take charge yesterday.
Jungkook squeezed your hand. You looked back at him. "That doesn't matter, I hope you know that." The remaining ten minutes of the ride was spent in relative silence, you battling in your thoughts, and Jungkook humming to himself while looking out the window, turning to check on you every minute or so. He didn't need a reply from you. He would've understood if you made the decision not to go right in front of the jet's stairs. And he'd take you home, without question.
But you didn't. You got on that plane, fell asleep an hour into the flight, and woke up to Jungkook gently telling you that you were about to land. You looked out the window, "Doesn't look like Fiji, did you kidnap me to sell me off?"
"Unfortunately not, you'd make me so much money though," he pouts through his teasing "we're in Sydney, you need things so I figured we'd make a stop..." He leaned over you, his hands on top of the baggage compartment while he looked out your window. You grabbed his waist and stuffed your head up his shirt, yup this was the best decision you've made so far.
"You smell nice, kinda wanna take a bite." You said, actually taking a bite of his sturdy abs.
"What do I taste like?" He asked.
"Like burnt chicken nuggets." You licked.
"Alright, that's enough, let's get going." He pulled you out from under his shirt and enveloped you in a rather dirty kiss. He took you by your hand and guided you off the plane and into the black range rover waiting for you both.
“I don’t need much, Jungkook.” You said, causing Jungkook to stare at you with wide eyes. This was very unlike you. “Well half of the time I’m gonna be in the water, and the other half I’ll probably be...” you leaned over to whisper the rest in his ear “naked.” His grip on your thigh tightened.
“Plus I have nowhere to keep all this stuff in my tiny dorm room closet.” You whined, placing your head on his shoulder. You didn’t even want to think about the amount of time that packing would take.
He hummed as if deep in thought, “Well you’re lucky, I just so happen to have an extra closet you can use.”
You groaned, you were a bit terrified at how things were moving. Yes, Jungkook was a rare gem, a one in a million type of guy but you feared that he didn’t see you the same way. And maybe he really wasn’t, there’s only so much you can learn about a person in 48 hours. Though, character may be hard to fake. Why worry though? This was a once in a lifetime experience that not many people were lucky enough to get, after all, this was what you were working towards anyway. You were absolutely going to enjoy yourself.
“Fine, but that means I have to come over anytime I want something from that closet.”
“Very true, I’m sure we can work something out.”
It wasn’t long before you both arrived at the very posh boutique lined shopping centre. You weren’t sure why you had expected to go to the general mall with stores such as Topshop or Zara. Instead, you were staring down price tags that could pay six months worth of rent. “Stop looking at those.” Jungkook snatched the price tag out of your hand. “Just choose what you like, I’ll wait for you in the changing room, pretty.” The changing room which was quite literally a room with a whole sofa that Jungkook laid on. So when you came in with a stack of clothes in your arms, a huge toothy grin on your face, and the store clerk behind you also with a stack of clothes in her arms, Jungkook smiled. You began trying on the clothes, all made for warm weather, you just wanted to make sure that they didn’t look stupid on you. Sometimes some pieces would look gorgeous on the hanger, but the moment it was on a body it became an awkward looking mess. Jungkook would still say that you made it look good but you wouldn’t care, your own confidence in the piece being more important than whether or not it actually looked good. Jungkook was enjoying this just as much as you were, having front row seats to see your panties slightly slip off whenever you removed some shorts or skirts that were tight fitting. His favorite part though was the swimsuit try on, yup, and you had a lot of those. Every now and then he’d get up just to grab you, spin you around, and hold you, like the big softie he was.
You both spent around two hours shopping. Jungkook bought two pairs of swimsuits for himself, the remaining six bags were yours. And you were back on the plane for a quick-not-so-quick four and a half hour ride to Fiji islands, final destination being Turtle Island.
It was mid-day by the time you arrived at the five star private resort that Jungkook had booked for you two, well his travel agent, but that wasn’t the point–he still paid. It was a beautiful little stilt building on water, there was even a pool and jacuzzi on the patio overlooking the crystal clear blue water. You oohed and aahed at the colorful fish and turtles! that swam below. Then there were footsteps coming up behind you, fast, and before you could even turn there was a huge splash in the water you were watching. A wet blonde head of hair looking up at you from the water. “You coming or not!?” Jungkook yelled over to you. Luckily, you already had your swimsuits on under your clothes, a little trick that your mom and you would do every time she’d take you to the beach or to the water park when you were younger. So you stripped your clothes off and jumped in after him. And when you were floating beside him he brought his hand up out from the water, two goggles hanging from it. You squealed a bit from excitement, snatching one, pouring the salty water out from inside, wiping the goggles and putting it on. Then you were both under, diving then coming up for air then back down to swim after a turtle.
The rest of the day went by quickly, exhausted by the time the sun set. You were in the jacuzzi eating a bunch of fruit that the resort staff had delivered earlier. Eyes closed and head relaxed on the cushioned headrest, with your arms outstretched on the jacuzzi edge. Jungkook was somewhere inside, you assumed he was taking a shower. That was not the case though, apparently he was straddling you now, his thick arms wrapped behind your head, his fat ass on your thighs. You opened your eyes “cute,” you giggled, moving your hands up his sides while inspecting his ravishing body.
“Did you know that sea turtles eat jellyfish? It’s like their favorite snack. I wonder if it’s like jello.” Jungkook said. You hummed, too busy with your hands.
“They can also hold their breath underwater for like five hours.” He added on. Now he was smirking, but you weren’t sure why.
“That’s very interesting, Jungkook, is there a reason you’re telling me this?”
“Not really.” He started sliding off you, into the water. Your eyes followed him down until everything was submerged except for his head.
“May I?” He asked.
“May you what?”
He stuck his tongue out, then flailed his head in the water and you were genuinely embarrassed by him even though it was just the two of you. But you knew what he meant: the turtle facts now made a bit more sense to you. He pinched your thigh and you swatted him. Jungkook’s devious little plan was ruined because you were now wrestling in the jacuzzi. HIs head tucked under your armpit, then you were tucked under his armpit, then multiple counts of attempted homicide.
Though, eventually, somehow your swimsuits had managed to fly off in various directions and somehow you were now all over each other, tongues in action and lips glued together. Jungkook’s hands ran up and down your spine then went to fondle your ass that he would occasionally squeeze. You were quick to let him into your mouth, his tongue having begged at your lips. You naturally began to grind against his muscular thighs, and he would flex them to create some sort of aid in this frictionless water. Your hand inched down his chest, his abs, then you traced his v-line till you reached what you were going for. You fondled his dick that was now getting pressed between your torso and his, running your thumb against his tip. “Shit, baby, do you like doing that? Teasing me?” Jungkook groaned into your ear. You hummed in agreement. Your lips smacking against each other, the sound of hot breath and waves mixing together. Jungkook’s dick being so close to your entrance but not inside you made you feel empty, and you could feel his outline against you, not small in the slightest. “Jungkook, I want you.” The words barely escaping with sound as you mouthed them into the kiss before he started nipping at your neck, taking a bite and leaving a fresh hickey. “Mhm, can you say that again for me, baby?” You loved Jungkook’s way of flirting, he would call you ‘pretty’ whenever you were in public and keep ‘baby’ for the bedroom. “I want you so deep inside me that I can’t see you right in front of me.” You pulled away to speak properly.
Jungkook must have seen the devil because he yanked you up, threw you over his shoulder and removed you both from the jacuzzi. You were now two naked bodies on display for all the turtles and fishes to see, though they seemed to be too preoccupied to watch Jungkook ruin you shortly. He slapped your ass and ran his fingers over your mound as he carried you to the canopy bed that sat outside on the patio. “You know, when you say things like that you make me go a little crazy.” He said in a deep, groany voice. And he threw you onto the bed, barely giving you any time to adjust before he was spreading your legs and looking at you hungrily.
“You’re too pretty for your own good,” he drew his fingers along your entrance, “I wonder how many times I can make you cum with my mouth alone.” You nearly cried as he replaced his fingers with his tongue, his thumb tracing little circles on your bud. It wasn’t long before he was shoving one finger in, then two, then three, going in and out and in and out, his tongue lapping you up. You grinded against him, your fingers in his wet hair. Then he was moving up your body, licking the droplets of water along the line he drew. He circled your nipple while he rubbed the tip of his shaft against your entrance. Your hands were above your head, giving him an all access pass to every inch of your body. Then he was showering you with kisses again, your lips connecting once more like magnets. “I can’t believe I’m about to fuck the queen of Australia.” He whispered into your ear. You let out a breathless laugh, your hands moving to wrap around his neck. “That would make you my king, or rather perhaps my concubine?” You moaned as Jungkook grinded against you, slow lustful grinds. “Sounds like fun either way, but you’ll always be my princess.” And you gave out a loud moan from Jungkook finally shoving his dick inside you.
“What if I said I’d never had a concubine before?” You laughed breathlessly, afraid that Jungkook might not catch your drift. Though when he paused from fucking you into the sheets to look at you through wide eyes, you can confidently assume he did.
“Are you?’ He asked, unable to say much else. And you nodded hesitantly in reply.
“Then I guess we’re both just going off instinct here, aren’t we?” He smiled, returning to kiss you, devotion laced with his kiss. The fact that Jungkook was a virgin, too, made you lightheaded, you were his first and likewise. To you, this meant something more than just a quick fiji trip with a pretty girl.
Jungkook wouldn’t have even guessed that he’d be your first, thinking that you didn’t want to fuck him on your kinda-not-really second date was because you just didn’t fuck so early. He didn’t really understand why, or how, but knowing that he was your first too made him feel connected to you even more, like you were truly both meant to stumble into each other. He was so fucking glad that he asked you that stupid question, or else you wouldn’t be here right now, with him. And God, the way your lips felt against his, he could go crazy just from a brush alone. He held you like you were fragile, made from glass, but with every thrust he wanted to go deeper, further into you, and no he wasn’t doing that just to hear your heavenly moans.
Unhurried, lazy but deep thrusts. Because he’s not rushing anywhere nor are you. And your fingers are entangled in his, beside your head, and they’re warm, moist even, soft, and his thumb drags along the back of your hand, calming you, sweet little ministrations– his specialty. And his lips are on your ear, your cheek, your jaw, your neck, your shoulder, and he’s tasting you, like a hungry gentleman. You’re on a cloud, with nothing else but yourself and him around you. And you can feel it all, everything, everywhere, the sweet tingles that run up from your mound through your stomach, up to your brain and it’s intoxicating, like narcotics, you can’t get enough. But it’s happening simultaneously with the pumps from your heart, and the feelings are mixing, like a sick little concoction waiting to burst out of every opening. Now Jungkook’s fingers are running down your shining body, like paint brushes, he’s painting you then erasing you with his lips, then painting you again, and he does this many, many times, and each time is like the first. You can feel him, so intimately, filling you slowly, his warm, slick body on top of yours, his tough chest and abdomen sliding on yours carefully, gently, almost like he doesn’t want to scrape you with his piercing muscles that he had so diligently built. His golden chain tickles your face, and you smile, biting it, and twisting your head to the side to pull him closer, and Jungkook answers with a chaste kiss, no hesitation.
He pulled out all the way till only his tip was past your entrance, “I’m happy to be your first concubine, my princess,” and as he spoke those words he thrusted into you, a slow, meticulous thrust, guiding you to your high. “I’ll always be your princess.” You repeated to him the same words he had spoken to you, a tear running down your cheek as you felt an unfamiliar sensation bubbling within you.
And you know, you know now that you love him. You love him a bit too much. But it’s impossible to describe, there aren’t enough letters, not enough words, to describe the way your stomach flips whenever he smiles at you– that smile, the smile... his smile. Maybe not enough words in this language alone, maybe there are more in French, there should be more that you can use? So you think, but you only know so much. Amour sans fin. Your love for him, endless, until the very last star burns out. But still, you’re trying to find the words, struggling to put together the letters while sharing the same breaths with him. You open your eyes, and you’re met with his, penetrating you, as if he’s reading your heart’s wishes, longings, needs. And he says it before you can.
“I love you.” And you know, you understand, that it’s all you need. There’s nothing more he can say, to explain to you how deep his feeling goes, there aren’t enough words, or songs, or poems. So you accept it because you too know nothing of what else he could say, to express his longing for you. The longing for something that is already there, but he still wants to be with you, constantly, he wants you there, always.
Jungkook knew that you were the one, his search coming to a full stop with you snug between his arms. He continued to fuck you while paying attention to every inch of your skin, and he soon learned all your sweet spots. The spot right below your ear, which he would lick, and kiss, and bite, and you in turn would cry his name. The spot on your side, on your waist, right below your ribs, he would run his fingers across it, his tongue, and you'd shiver. And your lips of course, when he'd bite your bottom lip, you always smiled into the kiss without fail, and if your hands weren't already holding his face then you would bring them up to hold him.
Even though you were all over each other, tossing and turning, fucking and crying. Fucking from the side, fucking with your leg swung over his shoulder, fucking with both legs over his shoulder, fucking with your face stuffed into a pillow, you still couldn't get enough of each other. This seemed to be the case anytime you two were together though, the physical touch between you two being never ending. Whenever this becomes official, the PDA will be disgusting. So when you've both reached your highs, multiple times, and the fogginess has left your mind, you're finally breathing out an "I love you," that gets lost among the waves, but does not go unheard.
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lemonjoonah · 2 months ago
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The Garden Thief (M)
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Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Word Count: 9.3K Genre: Hybrid AU, romance/drama/comedy, enemies to lovers Warnings: Unprotected sex, oral sex (fem. rec.), they get down and dirty outside but no one else is there to see them, cum play? (just a little), there’s also a bit of mud (sorry, but also not sorry, they’re outside what do you want from me?!?!), referenced hybrid neglect and oppression (hybrids are wrongfully deemed as pets by law and the majority of society).  
Summary: Your beloved vegetable patch has once again been victimized by a hungry thief in the night. The prime suspect? Jeon Jungkook, your neighbour's rabbit hybrid. But when you finally confront him, he pleads innocent, and proposes a plan to clear his name.
A/N: I wrote this fic’s premise and opening scene for the ‘A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words Game’ that I played oh so long ago and now I’ve finally finished the tale!
...
“Oh for fuck’s sake, not again!” You swear upon seeing the leafy green remains of several carrots lying in your garden, inches from where they used to be buried. This maddening mystery of the vanishing vegetables has been playing out all summer. You’ve set out deterrents for every possible garden pest, rolling out chicken wire and spraying natural remedies to repel anything from bugs to small rodents. Yet you still wake to find that your garden has been robbed in the night. The only possible suspect you haven’t been able to protect against resides just next door, in fact—
You squint up at the boarded fence, spotting a pair of long dark ears peeking out over the posts. “Jungkook, is that you?”
The ears immediately disappear, ducking down behind the barrier. The sound of his hurried footsteps trailing away are followed only by the slamming of a door.
You rush into and through your own house carrying the wilted carrot greens. Exiting out the front, and over to the house next to yours, where you repeatedly press the bell.
The entry whips open on the fourth ring to reveal Jungkook. His face is flushed, beads of sweat racing down his brow, and a shirt that one would normally use to cover their chest, is instead thrown over his shoulder. “Something wrong neighbour?” He asks with a carrot stick in hand. Bringing it to his mouth, he taunts you with a bite and crooked grin.
“Is-is your caretaker home?” You stutter trying your best to swallow your nerves. Concentrating hard on his face, you plead with your eyes not to wander down. That’s exactly what he wants, a reason to put you off your mission, to make you so flustered that you have to walk away. He’s always trying to use his allure against you, and you hate how often he succeeds doing just that...  
“No, he’s at work.”
“When will he be back?”
“Not sure, maybe a week, or two? He’s on a business trip.”
Your gaze falters in it’s determination for a brief second as a drop of sweat descends from his neck to his chest. Holding your breath you watch it’s path, tracing the valleys between his muscles. When Jungkook finally wipes it away your brain catches up and scolds you for your weakness. “And he left you here, alone?”  You ask, while trying to recollect your dignity, reminding yourself of how much grief he has put you through.
“Of course.” Jungkook’s smile grows. “I’m not just some common pet. I know how to behave myself.”
The statement makes your brow twitch, enraging you enough to overcome his tactics. “I know you haven’t been here long, but you should know, people typically don’t like it when someone steals from their yard.” You lecture him, waving the carrot tops in front of his face. “So stop treating my garden like your own personal snack bar!”
“Now why would I take from you? I have plenty of food here, even got another delivery this morning.”  The hybrid kicks at a box next him filled with a vibrant collection of fresh produce and grains.
“I don’t know why. I just know it was you.”
“Prove it.” He prods, while taking the last bite of the vegetable from his hand.
The loud crunching gnaws on your composure, stripping you of any patience you may have had for the hybrid. “This all started when you moved in, and I’ve ruled everything else out!” You shout, but as good as it might feel to finally vent your anger, you feel as though you’re somehow playing into his hand.
“That doesn’t seem like very good evidence. It’s circumstantial at best. If you want to find out who the real culprit is you should have a stake out.”
“A stake out?”
“Yeah, you know, watch over the garden for the night, catch the criminal in the act. I could even help if you’d like.”
You scoff at the ridiculous notion. “You really think I should invite you over to guard my crops?”
“I do, so I’ll come over tonight? Say around seven?” You open your mouth to object, but the rabbit hybrid jumps from one statement to the next casually inviting himself into your own home. “Perfect. See you then.”
“I didn’t-no wait, that was sar-” The door closes between you before you can finish. Leaving you baffled and alone on the doorstep. You ready to knock but stop just before your knuckles hit the wood. Trying again right now is a lost cause, it’ll just play into his game. So why waste your breath when you know it’ll just end the same way? Tonight then, as he suggested, that’s when you’ll be ready to hit him with some hard evidence that he won’t be able to refute.
Admitting defeat for now, you retreat back to your garden to pick the surviving vegetables and contemplate the encounter. You wish your could have just spoken to Jungkook’s caretaker—fuck what was his name again? You’ve only seen the man a couple times since they took the house, but at least he doesn't give you a nervous knot in your stomach, or leave you confused and speechless like his hybrid does.
It’s been three months since they moved in. You were excited at first, to have new neighbours in your almost vacant cul-de-sac. Buyers don’t seem to be interested in the old houses with large lots in your area. Too much work to maintain, and not enough good job prospects to go around. So when you saw the sold sign go up you were beyond thrilled. Greeting the new residents with a fruit basket and a smile.
The rabbit hybrid you now know as Jungkook appeared rather shy at first, you did your best to welcome him. Always greeting him when he was outside, trying to engage him in small chat, but the first time you caught him during his workout everything changed. Until that point you had not considered him as anything but a prospective friend. You were stunned to see him in such a confident state, throwing around his weights like they were nothing. In that moment, with you too nervous to admit that you found him attractive, you became the anxious and blubbering fool in his presence, and he, unfortunately, took note. The once quiet and cute rabbit, became a flirtatious and bratty bunny.
And since then, whenever you would work in your garden he’d be on the other side of the fence grunting and panting. Staying close to the gap in the divider, a missing panel you had yet to replace. On days like today you would often look up from your radishes and accidentally lock eyes with the hybrid, drenched in sweat and showing off his skills.
Out of respect and self preservation you tried your best to not to pay attention, to keep your nose buried in your garden, but as the weeks went by the vegetables under your care started to disappear. The ample crops you tended to in the evening, lessened by morning, with only the refuse remaining to indicate it’s former presence. You didn’t want to point fingers immediately, but today was the final straw, and tonight no matter how hard he tries to distract you, you will find him guilty.
After harvesting the choice crops for the day and watering the rest. You dust yourself off, settling inside and in front of your computer; opening the visitors page for your place of work, the city's greenhouse conservatory. To help promote the centre in the community the staff all take turns writing articles revolving around their own projects or home gardens, and you’re up next in the rotation. You stare at the blank document for several minutes trying your best to concentrate on the task, but you are unable to think of anything other than the mischievous hybrid next door.
Embracing the topic of your aggravation, you start the post off with a title sure to catch the eye of any reader, ‘Garden Thieves.’
‘We’ve all been there, finding a tomato just about to reach its peak ripeness. We give it another day to grow into perfection, only to find it missing later on. In your absence something else has taken it into its own clutches. I myself have been dealing with a vegetable thief for several weeks, so if you are struggling like I am, here are a few things that might help. ’
You proceed to outline several garden pests uploading photos of their damage, along with quick remedies to deter their presence. Netting to block the sparrows, raised beds and fences to keep out most rodents or mammals, and a caffeine solution to stave off slugs.
‘I hope this may help you all in your efforts to keep your plants safe, but I must add a disclaimer. Unfortunately nothing here is completely foolproof. Even if you do follow all of these steps you still might lose some of your crops to a crafty critter. But I wish you the best of luck on all of your backyard battles. I myself plan to face off with my own long-eared menace tonight.’
You finish your post with a smile. Sending it off to your coworker Namjoon to get his approval before you make it public.
He calls a few minutes later, his laughter carrying through the speaker. “That was easily the best article you’ve written all year. You should definitely post it.”
“Thanks.” You chuckle, hitting the submit button. At the very least feeling a bit relieved to have one less task weighing on your mind. “I really appreciate it.”
“No problem. I take it you’re still having trouble with that hybrid neighbour of yours?”
“Yeah,” you groan. You’ve complained to Namjoon about the issue several times in the past month. It must have been all too easy for him to read between the lines and see what set you off to create this specific entry.  “But he refuses to admit it was him. It’s like he’s trying to make me question my skills as a gardener and I hate it! I went over to talk to his caretaker but he’s away on business for a couple weeks.”
“He left him alone for that long? What about food?”
“He’s been getting deliveries. By the looks of it, he has a healthier diet than I do.”
Namjoon pauses on the line giving you only a simple, “Huh...” in a long break.
“What?”
“Well it’s just-” A loud buzzing sound erupts through the phone line cutting off his answer. A noise you know to indicate someone is at the back door. “That’s weird. I didn’t think we were supposed to get anything delivered today. No one else is here.... did you have anything scheduled to come in?”
“No.” You double check the calendar sitting on your desk. “I shouldn’t have anything until next Monday.”  
Namjoon puts you on hold while he checks on the reason for the interruption, returning only a minute later. “It’s a delivery all right, but are you sure these aren’t yours? I’m seeing a lot of tropical species on the invoice. Combretum rotundifolium, Heliconia angusta, Myrciaria dubia-”
You mouth a swear as Namjoon carries on with his list. It’s obvious they are indeed the specimens of your expected batch. You're in the process of redesigning one of the tropical habitats. The lead director was adamant that the conservatory host a butterfly exhibition in the next coming year, and in order to support the grandiose endeavour you are required to introduce a vast amount of new flowering species over the next few months. “How many in total?”
“About two dozen. Looking pretty rough from the journey too.”
You’re not surprised by their current state. This summer is already one of the hottest and driest on record, and all the stock you had received this season was excessively wilted and near death because of it. “Do we have any holding houses with humidifiers available?”
“Not at the moment,” There’s a clatter in the background as Namjoon sorts through what must be the slack of clipboards. “But I’ve got the inspection chart here and your last delivery did just finish it’s quarantine. No signs of pests or illness, so they’re clear to plant. That should free up some space for you.”
“That’ll have to do. Thanks for checking.” Standing up from your desk with a sorrowful sigh. You mourn the loss or your afternoon off as you start to dress for a day of hard labour. Throwing on your work-issued overalls over your t-shirt and shorts. Unfortunately you can’t just leave the new stock to sit out under the beating sun. With little humidity outside and no protection they’ll be burnt to a crisp if you delay too long. But the worst part is that your planting staff isn’t scheduled until later in the week, and that volume of work will put you well into the middle of the night before you complete it. “I’ll be in soon to deal with it.”
“That’s a lot of planting to do on your own. I can help if you-”
“I can’t take you away from your trees, isn’t there a bonsai exhibition next week you have to prepare them for?” He’s been agonizing over this showcase for so long you couldn’t possibly inconvenience him now with your own troubles. “It’s fine, really. I’ll call to see if anyone else is willing to come in today.” You hang up letting Namjoon return to his tasks, and work your way down the contacts for the gardening staff as you prepare yourself to leave. Though as expected, all of those who answer have prior commitments and won’t be able to assist.
Grabbing your badge and plans for the updates to the garden you slip back out into the noon-day sun, so strong it’s turned your car into an oven on wheels. You’re just about to pull it into reverse when you spot the blinds shift in your neighbour’s window. Prompting you to recall the plans he had made for tonight.
With all the work you have, it’s doubtful you’ll be back home for seven. You return to Jungkook’s door to give him the news. He has it open before you can even knock, his usual smirk crawling across his face as he greets you.  
“About tonight... something has come up at work and I really don’t know how late I’ll be.”
His ears perk up. “You’re going into the conservatory?”
“Yeah,” you respond, somewhat shocked that he remembered where you work. It’s been a couple months since you mentioned it while introducing yourself to him and his caretaker. “An order came in earlier than expected. I’ll likely be planting all day and night.”
“I can help,” he offers, already stepping out to join you, and locking the door behind him.
“You want to help?”
“Of course, isn’t that the neighbourly thing to do?”
“Yes, but I wouldn’t want it or expect it from someone who terrorizes my own garden.”
“Allegedly,” Jungkook corrects. “And wouldn’t you rather have me with you, under your supervision, than here, all alone with only a measly fence between me and your impressive bell pepper harvest?”
“Stay away from my peppers!” You scold, pointing your finger at him. “Even if I wanted to take you, what about your caretaker? Don’t you need his permission to leave and work?”
“He’s never paid attention to my whereabouts before, and it’s not work if you don’t pay me. I’ll just be a volunteer. You have people volunteer all the time right?”
“Yes but-”  
“I’ll be on my best behaviour.”
“Alright, fine.” You finally agree though with a heavy dose of reluctance. Namjoon often brings his own hybrid in so it shouldn’t be a problem. “But if I see you nibble on even a single leaf, you’re coming straight back here.”
“Deal.” He rushes past you straight to your passenger seat and buckles himself in. Practically bouncing with excitement beside you as you pull out and head towards the conservatory.
The minutes pass and you try your best to focus on the road but you’ve never been so close to Jungkook in such a small space. And with his built frame taking up most of the car, he’s hard for you to ignore. His ears folded against the roof and his shoulders so wide they brush repeatedly against yours.
“Ever been to the conservatory before?” You ask, trying to divert your mind from the battle which builds inside you. A wavering war between frustration and attraction, with the former trying it’s best to pin down the latter, a move which only arouses the latter more...
“No, I’ve wanted to go ever since you mentioned it but my caretaker hasn’t had the time.”
“Oh.” A sense of pity joins the ranks of your emotions, nudging at you as you pull into the lot. “Sorry, I didn’t-”
“Why are you sorry?” Jungkook asks in a low whisper, snapping back to his flirtatious behaviours. His mouth turns up at the corner as he leans into you, so close that his drooping ears graze the top of your head.  “Would you have taken me earlier if I had mentioned it?”
“N-no,” you choke out. Placing your hand on his solid chest, you push him back and away. As tempting as his advance might be to accept, you know his forwardness to be nothing more than an act to make a fool of you. Why else would he try to both seduce you, and steal from right under your nose?  “You’re only here today because I am in desperate need of help, and I can’t trust you to be alone.”
...
You lead him through the unoccupied greenhouses. The conservation is closed to the public today (as it is every Monday and Tuesday); which usually allows for some time off, but at least now it’ll give you a chance to work unimpeded by visitors. Your own curated section is located in the most humid of all the houses, set in such a way to mimic the tropical environment you are attempting to represent.
The first stop is the holding house where the carts of new stock wait just outside.  Grabbing an empty trolly you enter and start to load up those that are ready to plant. Jungkook following your actions does the same, easily lifting the heavy planters that you yourself struggle with. “Thanks,” you whisper as he relieves you of a particularly burdensome tree. To which he smiles in return.
After making the switch, by placing the recent delivery in the house for it’s quarantine, you lead him to the supply closet. Where you collect a couple shovels, trowels, and two pairs of gloves. As you continue to scan for anything else you might require, Jungkook pops in behind looking at the shelves with a sense of curiosity. He reaches up and over you to a spray bottle labeled ‘slug repellent.’
“We won’t need that, it’s for the outdoor gardens,” You explain. “It’s just a mixture of ca-”
“Caffeine and water?”
You snap your gaze to him. “How do you know that?”
He bites his lip as a snicker starts to escape. “Just a bit of morning reading. I found an interesting article with that particular tidbit. One which also happened to reference the exploits of a long-eared menace.”
“Y-you read the conservatory blog? You read my post? No one reads that, there can’t have been more than ten views!”
“Which is such a shame.” He goads you. “I’ve found your work to be both informative and comical. You really have me rooting for you in your quest to catch your thief.”
You groan in utter fury. “Why must you be so-so-”
“Handsome? Funny? Caring?”
“Antagonizing!”
“Because you seem to take more notice when I am.” Jungkook answers, with a turn of his heel, his tail poking out from under his shirt as he starts to walk away with the cart. “And I like seeing that perplexed look of yours. Your nose is cute when you scrunch it up like that.”
You remain in the shed, your traitorous heart beating erratically over the fact that he called a part of you cute. While your more sensible side grabs your nose and smooths out the wrinkles he referenced.
“Should we get to work?” He calls out after you. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we can go home and expose that bandit of yours.”
You roll your eyes and follow him out, before taking the lead to your tropical glasshouse. The air sticks to your skin the moment you enter. Jungkook lets out a long exhale behind you tugging on the collar of his shirt. “Is it always like this in here?”
“It’s a bit warmer today, but not by much. Are you already regretting your decision to help?” You tease him.
“Nope,” he answers, slinging a shovel over his shoulder. “Show me where to dig, and I’ll get to it.”
Pulling out your plans for the new exhibit arrangement, you select a couple species placing them on the empty plots of garden as directed, careful to allow for future growth. Jungkook follows behind digging out their new homes faster than at least three of your staff members combined.
You stare at him for a second, unable to believe the pace at which he’s going. “Something wrong?” He asks, pausing to lock eyes with you.
“No, I just didn’t think you’d be so quick at digging.”
“I’m part rabbit, what did you expect?” Jungkook boasts with a chuckle and a raised brow. “I share their strengths. Especially when it comes to burrowing and fu-”      
His words are cut short when a fresh breeze from the outside washes over the both of you, a  sure sign that someone must have entered the greenhouse. Your neighbour goes rigid, his nose lifts into the air and his ears fall back flat against his head. “Jungkook what’s-” Leaping up he closes the gap and grabs you. Tucking you into him with his chin resting on your head, where a  warm and earthy scent envelopes you.  His breaths are quick and deep, causing his chest to rapidly rise and fall against your back.
Namjoon’s voice calls out to you. “... are you in here?”
“Over here!” You yell out in reply, before turning back to the hybrid who still has you locked in his clutches. “What the hell Jungkook? Let me go! Now’s not the time for your games.” Sure it might feel nice to be wrapped in his arms, to get lost amidst his aroma. At any other time you might even consider taking a moment before chastising his boldness. But here? Now? And with Namjoon coming to greet you? No, this is too much.
You try to push him away like you have before, but this time it’s as if he’s set in stone, and not registering you at all. He focuses only on the direction your coworker's voice hailed from. “That scent, he smells like-”
“There you are.” Namjoon interrupts stepping around a flowering bush and into view, looking surprised by your guest. “Oh, hello there.”
The point of Jungkook's chin rubs against your head as he grips you even tighter. Embarrassed and confused by the hybrids embrace. “Jungkook, this is Namjoon.” You introduce your coworker while delivering an elbow to Jungkook’s gut. He finally snaps out of his trace and lets you go though he continues to hover behind. “He works with the bonsai of the conservatory.”
“You must be the neighbour I’ve heard so much about, it’s nice to finally meet you.” Namjoon extends his hand to the hybrid, but Jungkook ignores the gesture, choosing to glare instead, with his nostrils flared and his ears pinned back.
“Jungkook?” You whisper trying to chase him from his mood.
Namjoon gives him a nervous smile. “You probably smell my hybrid, on me don’t you?”
“A hybrid?” Jungkook confirms, his eyes narrowed at Namjoon.
“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t intend to scare you. I’m sure the scent of a predator, especially a tiger, is a bit of a shock. He’s harmless, I promise.”
“Is Taehyung here?” You ask, hoping to see his affectionate part-feline companion.  
“Nah, he’s with a friend today. I needed to get some work done and he’d be more of a distraction than a help... but it would seem that didn’t stop him from scenting my shirt before I left.” Namjoon explains, and then turns to your neighbour again. “Jungkook would you mind if I borrow her for a second? I need help with one of my tropical species.”
Jungkook gives a solemn nod. For the first time since you’ve known him, he looks frightened, and somewhat hesitant to release you over to your coworker.
Worried by his current disposition, you reassure him with a squeeze on his arm. “Just keep digging where I’ve placed those pots and I’ll be right back.”
Namjoon leads you into the adjacent greenhouse where you can continue to keep watch of Jungkook through the pains of glass. But the instant the doors close between you, Namjoon starts bombarding you with questions. “Why didn’t you tell me? How long has it been going on? ”
You take a step back having been caught off guard. “Tell you what?”
“About you and Jungkook! Is the feuding neighbours just a cover story?” Namjoon’s eyes are wide and hopeful as he carries on, not letting you fit a single word in. “Don’t worry, I won’t inform anyone you're together. I know it’s not easy having a human-hybrid relationship out in the open. But I think you should be careful about going out into public because he’s far too obvious about it.”
“We’re not- we’re not a couple. Why would you think such a thing?”
“Because the way held you, he looked like he was marking you with his own scent. That’s what rabbits do isn’t it? They rub their chins on what they want to claim as their own.”
“They do what?” You ask, stunned by the possibility, before the realism settles back in. It must just be Jungkook’s idea of a joke. “No, that’s not what he’s doing, our connection is nothing remotely like that. Don’t get me wrong he’s very attractive, and he knows it.” You mutter the last part under your breath. “But-”
“But you really are having trouble with him. It's not a cover?”
“You think I would keep something like that from you?” Namjoon over the years has come to be your closest confidant. A good friend and coworker, you would never dream of hiding something like that from him.
“I suppose not.”
“Is that why you brought me back here, to question my relationship status?”
“Not entirely.” Namjoon shakes his head with a small dimpled smile and changes the subject. “I do actually want to get your help with one of my new acquisitions.” He points out an unusual tree on his work bench, much too big for the pot it’s currently situated in. It’s extensive roots spill out over the top and threaten to swallow the pot whole. “A Ficus microcarpa, far from the most sought after species when it comes to reputable bonsai, but I couldn’t pass this one up. It has such good character.”
“What made it grow in such a way?” You examine the plant and it’s container with care, prying between the roots and taking note of cracks starting to form in the terracotta.
“The last owner neglected it for far too long. It sat hidden in the back of a commercial greenhouse, still under the watering and fertilizing system, but since it was confined to such a small space it tried to root it’s way out. If I were to guess, it probably hasn’t seen a new pot for at least five years.”
“It’s a miracle it survived.” You nod impressed by the tree’s determination. “What’s your plan for it?”
“Give it what it wants, let it leach out. I doubt I would be able to pry it out entirely without causing significant damage to the roots that are gripping the sides, so instead I want to put another bellow to catch it and give it the fresh soil and room it needs.” Namjoon lays the tree and pot down on the table, and asks you to hold and support the trunk, while he taps and pokes at the bottom of the vessel with a metal trowel.  Enlarging the cracks, but not breaking the pot fully. It’s a tedious process. The small chunks of clay are removed piece by piece, giving him access to see and free some of the tightly bound roots inside.
While your coworker continues his task, your eyes are free to wonder. You check on Jungkook through the glass, as he kneels in front of the garden bed digging even faster than before.
Namjoon appears to notice your distracted state. “How's he doing?”
“Fine I guess.” You whisper. “He’s acting stranger than usual today though. He stole from my garden again. Invited himself over to my house, then here, and you saw what he did back there.”
“Huh...” Namjoon mutters, trailing off the same way he did on the phone.
“What is this ‘huh’ you keep giving me? You know I don’t like games Namjoon. If you have something you want to say, say it.”
“It’s about what you said earlier, how his caretaker leaves for extended periods of time. Usually if an animal is alone for too long they look for ways to stimulate themselves and resort to their natural instincts, scavenging and such. But he’s a hybrid and therefore part human, so if you were isolated and restricted to your house what would you do?”
“Probably look for the closest person I could find. So he’s acting out in my garden and teasing me, because he’s lonely?”
“I think so.” Namjoon responds as he extracts another root, freeing it from its confines.
“But why?” You ask, worried for the answer to come. “Why wouldn’t he just say something?”
“There could be a number of reasons. He might not understand what he’s doing on a conscious level, or he might be afraid to show any sign of weakness to you or anyone else. Jungkook is part prey animal, and humans are all too often predators.”
“If that’s the case...” You curse yourself for not realizing it sooner. The fury you held for him slowly fades away as you replay every encounter in your mind. He was literally jumping at the chance to spend time with you, to help you with your work, and you were to blind to see it. Your anger over your missing vegetables is so trivial in comparison to what he must have been going through. The loneliness he must have felt, and the inability to admit it, you can’t imagine how he suffered through it alone. “What can I do to help him? I have no legal claim to him Namjoon. What can I do within such limitations?”
He looks down at his work in progress. “The way I see it  you and he, like this small tree, have three options. You could maintain the status quo, leave him be, but how long will he be able to survive like he is? Creeping over the edge but grasping on to nothingness?”
You shake your head vehemently rejecting the idea while Namjoon continues.
“You could report his caretaker for neglect, breaking the container entirely, but that too could be very damaging to him, tearing him away entirely could put him in a state of shock, and in a home that is no better for him, while the legal battle is decided. Or...” Namjoon grabs another container, slightly wider than the one in which the plant is seated. Filling it with substrate he takes the tree clinging to it’s partial pot and places it on top. Pressing the newly freed roots down into the soil.
“You could support him, give him a better home just outside of his own where he can be himself and access what he needs. I personally think it’s your safest option for now.” Namjoon leads over inspecting the bonsai and lowers his voice to an almost inaudible whisper. “Until the day, when it is possible to fully cast the pot aside.”
You nod, though now left to grapple with what you could possibly have to offer the hybrid.  “I’m not sure I would be the best person to care for him.”
“I think Jungkook would disagree. He was already trying to scent you. That to me, implies his desire for something more in the realm of an intimate relationship.” You choke on your breath as Namjoon comes to an additional conclusion. Upon seeing your distress he makes a suggestion. “Of course you could keep it strictly to friendship between the two of you and I’m sure that will improve his situation, but his other needs will need to be met for him to feel completely at home...”
“His other needs? You think he wants to be with me? Intimately?! No! Surely he would have acted differently if that was his intent! He’s done nothing but tease me when he catches me even remotely looking in his direction.”
“So you have been looking at him!” Namjoon taunts you with a massive grin. Apologizing a second later when you proceed to glare at him. “But to answer your question, no, not necessarily. You have to remember most of society deems him a lesser being. He could be feeling a lot of guilt and pressure not to engage with you in that way. Though he might not outright say it, I bet his instincts will continue to shine through. I’ll even prove it to you.” Namjoon takes off a glove and rubs your head. “I bet this rabbit of yours will take less than a minute before he tries to replace the smell of my hand with his own again... trust me.”
You shake your head in disbelief. “I should probably get back to him.” You are just about to step away when your thoughts return to the long neglected plant. “Where do you plan to house that when you’re finished? Ficuses naturally belong in a more tropical location don’t they?”
“They do, especially if I want to give it a better chance. It’s going to need a place far more humid than this space.”
“Was this all your calculated way of guilting me to store it in my greenhouse too?”
“The thought might have crossed my mind.” Namjoon gives you a sly grin.  “But my logic is still sound in regards to Jungkook. He needs someone, he needs a better home... and it would seem he’s chosen you.”
...
You wander back to your greenhouse, still full of doubt. Finding Jungkook to have finished most of the required digging.
“Sorry for leaving you.”
“You-you okay?” He asks, upon seeing the dazed look on your face and then scowling in the direction that Namjoon led you.
“Fine, he just needed help with one of his plants. Sorry about earlier, I didn’t think you’d be affected by the scent of his hybrid, Taehyung is rather sweet though, you’d like him.”
“You trust him then?” Jungkook grumbles as he pierces his shovel into the ground. “You trust Namjoon and his hybrid?”
“Of course, why shouldn’t I?”
“Because it wasn’t just a tiger that I smelled. He’s been around a lot of hybrids. Every scent on him told me to run, all of them put there by dangerous predators.”
“Oh,” you shoot back in surprise. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Taehyung is rather popular, he has a lot of friends and Namjoon often caters them at his place. You don’t need to worry, you're safe here.”
“It’s not myself I’m worried about.”
Jungkook inches closer as you crouch to place the plants in the holes he dug. His nose twitches as he takes a deep breath, his eyes watching while you bury the root ball in the warm soil, firmly securing the trunk of the young tree.
While you are leaning down, Jungkook reaches across to the other side of you. Grabbing the trowel to your right despite the fact that the same tool can be found on his left. The bottom of his chin grazes the top of your head and lingers for a spell. Your heart stops in that moment while questioning his motives. Though Namjoon said he’d do just this, you still can’t be entirely sure that it proves him correct; Jungkook might just not have seen the other option available to him, and he’s never bothered about invading your space. This could be nothing, though there’s a small growing part of you that wants it more and more to be something.
“He’s a good guy,” you promise, returning to the conversation so as to not dwell on his actions. “He even suggested that I should bring you along more often, if you’re interested in spending some of your days here.”
“He did?”
You nod.  A small white lie, but not entirely incorrect, and if it gets him to accept Namjoon easier you’ll all be better for it. “I wouldn’t expect you to work, but you're more than welcome to just hang around. The staff here could always use some company and I’m sure it would beat staying at home alone all day.”
“I would like that. I would like that a lot, but would you want me to keep you company too?”
“If that’s what you want to do.”
“No, I need to know if that’s what you want.” He looks over to you pinning you down in his line of sight.  
“I suppose I would....” You answer and turn your head, unable to bear the nerves that his gaze brings. The both of you fall quiet. Knowing what you know now, being free of your anger for him leaves you vulnerable, open to his persuasion, and now you are no longer certain of how to act. So you start to rely on what has made him comfortable in the past, and interject with a new condition to bring an end to the awkward silence. “As long as you treat this garden better than mine back home.”
Jungkook lets out a long laugh. “I have nothing but the highest respect for your garden.”
...
When planting is finished your clothes are entirely saturated in sweat and your muscles aching from use. It’s hard to believe how much you’ve both done in such a short amount of time. While carting up the supplies, Jungkook’s eyes catch on something behind you. You look around spotting the newly potted bonsai on a back table. Namjoon must have dropped it off while you both were busy.
Looking at it now you can’t help but notice how even the shape of its leaves remind you of the hybrid’s ears, long, pointed, and reaching up to the sky. You consider your friend's words one more time and while Jungkook leans over to inspect the tree. Reaching out to his back, your hand shakes with hesitation before setting down on a spot just below his shoulder. He softens under your touch, a low hum leaving his lips. His attention turns from the plant to you. With your hand still in place, your arm is now wrapped around him, leaving only an inch between the two of you. You stand there fixed and unmoving, but content in the knowledge, that you seem to have left him speechless this time. His eyes darting away from yours, to your lips, your neck, and finally the hand you place upon his chest.  
Only to have the moment broken when you can hear and feel the rumble from his stomach. His nervous laugh follows as he reaches up to scratch behind his ear.
“Hungry?”
He nods in response, his eyes wide as he remains unusually silent.
“Come on, I’ll buy you dinner.” You offer as you turn him around to head to the car.
...
You both settle on a take out spot, and return home to wash up and eat.
After finishing your meal and tearing off your overalls, you both settle down on the hammock in your yard. With Jungkook’s legs long enough to touch the ground, he slowly rocks the seat back and forth.  He’s been near silent since that close moment together. He’s never had a problem with banter and flirtation, but now you’ve come to notice that any attention which can’t be passed off as a joke causes him to flounder.
Laying back in the hammock, both full and content, your eyes threaten to close after the long day as Jungkook continues to sit beside you. The sound of crickets lulling you to sleep. “Keep an eye out for that thief of mine will you?” You may not like games but if it makes him comfortable, and keeps him talking, you’ll continue to play this ruse with him.
“You trust me to keep watch without your supervision?”
“Are you suggesting I shouldn’t?”
“No, it’s just a lot more credit than you usually give me.”
“I think you’ve earned it.” You whisper as you finally drift off.
It feels like only a few minutes of rest before the sun sets and the air turns cool. Jungkook’s chin comes to rest on the top of your head like it did back in the greenhouse. He shifts his weight, burrowing his arms around and behind to cover you as he takes deep breaths. You lean into him seeking the warmth of his chest. No longer restricted by your childish anger to enjoy his company is a welcome relief, you only wish you could relinquish him of any of his own troubles and doubts.  And then, you feel it, a drop of cold rain hitting your neck. The hammock moves again as he adjusts, the back of his fingers running across the damp spot. Another finds your cheek and he wipes that away too, your skin shivering in response.
But when a speck lands your mouth he stops. You wait, a second, then two. Your anticipation grows with face heating up and your chest tightening as you continue to crave his touch. You want him to wipe it away, to touch you, to act on whatever desires he might be keeping. You part your lips with the desperate hope that he will take the hint. Rejoicing when the warm pad of his thumb spreads the drop across the delicate skin.
He comes down on to you, his mouth catching any and all remains of the droplet as he encases your lips. Jungkook places a hand on your neck while the other grabs the ropes of the hammock, his legs straddle your hips. The scattered rain turns to a downpour as he remains fixed to your mouth, even his form isn’t enough to shield you from the current washing down from the sky.
As your hands reach up to his own damp and curling locks entwining your fingers in the strands he moans and nips. But as quickly as it started, so too does it end. When Jungkook snaps up as though jolted from a dream. His ears point back as an apology flows from him. “I-I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Jungkook,” you call out to him but he ignores you as he tries to detangle himself. When one foot hits the ground. You grab his waist and try again. “Jungkook, you don’t have to be sorry.” But instead of stopping he merely pulls you off and along with him, sending you both to the muddy ground, but this time with you on top of him.
“Are you okay?” He asks the loud pouring of the rain forcing him to raise the volume of his voice.
You chuckle at his concern considering he’s the one flat on his back. “I think I should be asking you that question instead.” You pause as he mirrors your grin. “Why did you stop? Did I do something wrong?”
“No.” He looks up at you, his brow furrowing. “You did nothing wrong. It was me. I was the one acting on my instincts. I shouldn’t have done that when I know how much you hate me.”
“I don’t hate you...” You explain, trying your best not to be drowned out by the water cascading down. “The things you did might have annoyed me, but I get it now. I’m just sorry it took me so long to notice.”
“Notice what?”
“How fucked up your situation is. For not realizing how alone you must have been. How caged you must have felt. I’ve been so focused on my own little world that I didn’t realize what was happening or why you were acting the way you were. I like you, a lot, but I was too wrapped up in my frustration to say how I felt...”
“It’s not your fault.”
You shake your head. “I am not innocent in this. I should have been paying more attention.”
“Then pay attention to me now.” He begs with his round eyes shining up at you.  
“But in what way? As a neighbour, as a friend, or maybe something more?" Your voice cracks in desperation, trying to find his needs while also hoping they are the same as yours. “Is that why you were always teasing me the way you did? You wanted something more?”
“You really want to know?” Jungkook’s tone is low as it grips on to his every word. “I did it because it was the only thing that could distract me from my incessant need for you. Seeing your reactions and having your attention kept me in check. I’m very different from you and I’m aware it could cause a problem. I wasn’t sure if you could ever fully want me because of that.” He reaches to rub around the base of his ears. “But every day that I looked over I wanted to hold you, to claim you, to take you right here on this very spot. So often I dreamed of jumping the fence and coming for you instead of...”
You smile down at him, noting his near admission. “Instead of?”
“Instead of watching from a distance.” He smirks, catching and narrowly fixing his statement. Pleading guilty only to his longing for you.
“Then do it.” You demand of him.
He groans from his position beneath you. “Don’t tease me like that.”
“I’m not. You weren’t the only one peeking through the fence Jungkook.” Reaching up to your collar you tug off your shirt. He follows your lead with his own to reveal his sculpted chest he’s taunted you with so many times. “I don’t care if we’re different from each other. I don’t care if it causes a problem.” You shift back on his body traveling from your seat near his stomach down to his hips, his clothed dick firm and pressing against you. A moan escapes his lips, confirming that you’ve made your point. “There’s no one else nearby, so if you want me so much that you’re willing to fuck me out here, in the rain and mud-”  
His hands come to grip your waist, and in one swift motion, he lifts you off, maneuvering out from underneath, to fall into place behind you. From there he pushes you down to your hands and knees, his body bent over yours. “You have no idea how much I want to.” He whispers with a kiss to your bare shoulder damp from the rain that continues to pour.
He takes off your bra before his face moves down your back, nose trailing against your skin and pausing at your shorts. Unfastening the button he pulls them down, freeing you of your underwear too before they are both cast aside. “I want to smell you, and taste you.” Jungkook takes in a deep breath, wrapping an arm around your legs, and barring your thighs. He buries his face between your legs, his tongue reaching out to deliver a long lick to your folds pausing after every lap.
Your palms dig into the ground, the cool mud coming to the surface to meet them. You buck against his tongue but the forearm holding you remains firm, sending your squirming downward to bury your elbows in the soggy grass too.
Jungkook chuckles as you inadvertently give him a better angle. From behind you can hear the zipper of his own shorts. Rubbing the head of his cock against your damp folds, he covers it with the slick of your slit, and with a long groan he eases it inside. He’s slow at first, letting you savor the girth and warmth of him. So you start to edge back and forward on his cock. Taking the time to enjoy every inch, along with the sounds that leave him. But when he returns to take control, the first thrust is so powerful, his thighs hit your ass with a loud clap, and every jolt of his hips after, drives you further down each time.
A stuttering groan escapes him as he fills you. Thinking he’s finished you lean forwards and until his cock pulls out, but in response he grabs your waist. Turning you over, back to the ground on top of the discarded clothes and facing him.
He lowers himself pressing his chest against yours. His fingers reach to grab your chin and take a kiss. His cock, despite having come only moments before, is hard once more and poised to enter once again.
“How are you-” You manage to squeeze a few words in the gaps between his kisses as he draws breath. “Ready for more-” Another pass of his tongue. “Already?”
“You have my hybrid traits to thank for that.” He moves to nibble on the side of your throat. “I have more to give you, if you want it.”
You nod unable to emit any noise other than a gasp as his mouth finds a sensitive spot on your neck. His dick forges in again, your slick and his cum dripping out of you as he fills you with himself instead.
You’ve avoided touching him with your own hands as they are patched with mud, but as his thrusts grow more powerful than even before, you’re forced to grab on his arms and chest. Leaving behind streaks of dirt which display the path of your grip. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, in fact looks rather encouraged by your touch, and the marks you leave him.
“What a dirty woman you are, and getting me all messy too.” He scoffs while admiring your handiwork. “Can I return the favour?”
“Help me come first and you can do whatever the fuck you want.” You gasp on the brink of your climax.  
His ears perk up and a grin streaks across his face. “Close are you?” He grabs your calf and wraps your leg around his back, the other follows suit and his hand comes to rest on your lower back pushing you up and into him effectively grinding your mount against him.
You gasp and flinch with the sudden pressure, but he holds you firm as your back arches to meet him.
His hips beat on at a rapid pace, a small whimper escapes him as you reach the peak, tipping you over the edge. The chilling rain can in no way can douse the searing heat that spreads through you. You're still gasping when his jaw clamps down hard, his teeth poised upon your skin. The first pulse of his cock comes inside, but on the second he pulls out to splatter your chest and stomach with the rest. His hand comes to clutch his shaft, spilling more out and on to you with each stroke.
After every remaining drop has been cast on you he smiles, dragging his fingers across the rain drenched mess of mud and cum on your skin. “Never thought I’d ever see you so thoroughly soiled.”
You giggle at his remarks through your deep breaths. “And now that you do, what do you think?”
“I think it suits you, the dirt, the rain, and me...” He lowers himself down onto you, with his head now resting upon your shoulder. “It’s too bad though. Now I just want more, but we’re both far too filthy to carry on like this.”  
You turn to whisper at the base of his ear. “Who says we can’t continue in the shower...”
...
You wake early the next morning with the sun spilling into the room, lighting up your bed, and the hybrid sleeping next to you. His ears and nose twitching as he continues to rest. Slipping out from the covers, and into a set of clean gardening clothes, you exit the room with as little sound as possible.
On the tile floor of your hall, muddy footprints trail from your backdoor to your bathroom.  A smile pulls at your lips as you recall the events which brought them there. Jungkook had been so excited to keep going he picked you up and rushed you inside.
The feeling from the warm water and hands in contrast to the cool rain was enough to bring back the waves of pleasure. He was so thorough in washing you down, you might have to ask him to join you for another this morning and repay the favour.  
Outside in the garden you find all your harvest from the day before present and untouched. You’re pleased by this new development, but it’s not the fact that your crops are intact which makes you happy, it’s the comfort in knowing that Jungkook didn’t feel the need to take them.
A few minutes later the hybrid in question comes up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist pulling with him a blanket he took from the bed to cover the both of you. “Morning.” He mumbles, as his nose finds the crook of your neck where he exhales with a deep and relaxed sigh.
“Morning.” You respond, enjoying the tickle of his breath before you turn around to better see him. “It seems the thief didn’t strike last night. ”
“I guess they found a new garden to plunder and devour?” Jungkook suggests, giving you a sly grin, before he opens his mouth again. It’s easy to see that he’s getting ready to confess, his face shifts to a stern expression as he looks down at the ground, the guilt weighing heavily upon his brow. Placing your index to his lips you stop him. No longer needing to hear those words of admission, you offer a new proposal instead.
“Maybe, but that was just one night. The thief might still come back. So if it’s alright with you I would like you to stay here. Until we can be sure they won’t return.”
Jungkook lets out a satisfied chuckle, pushing aside your finger and pulling you tighter into his warm embrace. “You’re right, I suppose it would be safer if I stayed.” His lips plant a kiss on the top of your head where he then rests his chin. “A temptation as enticing as this, shouldn’t be left alone and unattended.”
...
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moonchild1 · a month ago
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jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅰ)
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hi guys here's a list of all my favourite jungkook fics I hope you enjoy them, please show your love and support to these amazing writers and their blogs 🖤🖤 just so you know majority of the fics contain smut so no minors allowed please, happy reading everyone ♡
a- angst s- smut f- fluff
learn to love by @knjoodles f a (teacher jk single parent au)
thinning thread by @flowerwrites06 s a (marriage au)
other half by @whatifyoulivelikethat f s (roommates to friends with benefits au)
forever doesn't exist by @jeonstheticcc Angst (break up au)
anima meaology by @arckook f a (soulmate au) ft. Taehyung
have a nice day by @lookingforluna s (doctor au established relationship au)
how many drinks? by @xpeachesncream f s a (best friends au college au)
come here I'm your paradise by @borathae f s (honeymoon au)
killing me softly with his touch by @borathae f
different paths by @taehyungiejiminie95 f a (dad au)
in the frosty air by @gukyi f a (roommate au)
the art of the rom-com by @gukyi f a (enemies to lovers au college au)
Aim for the heart by @writemywaytoyourheart f a (hitman jk)
matching hearts by @arcticguk f a (exes au)
boys tears by @arcticguk f a (fuck boy au college au frenemies to lovers frat boy au)
pretty savage by @jimidol s (CEO JK CEO Tae assistant oc) ft. Taehyung
re: untitled by @to-star-lake a (ceo jk arranged marriage au)
soft skin by @namjoonchronicles f (date night domestic au)
new rules by @tayegi s a (fratboy jk)
now to forever by @aiimaginesbts f a (exes au)
Wherever there is you by @jeonstudios f a (marriage au)
glimpse by @sushivrs a (exes au idol au)
worth the wait by @sketchguk f s a (strangers to lovers au college au)
backstage quickies by @btsqualityy s (idol au)
you've got mail by @minyoongijjangjjangmanboongboong f a (exes to lovers au)
just friends by @kinktae s a (best friends au)
May 31 by @jeonjeonggukenergy f s (roommate au)
photographs by @honeyedhoseok f a
night apple is poison apple by @helvonasche f s a (childhood best friend au)
leave your name by @craztextae s (90's throwback au)
the wedding date by @jjungkookislife f s a (fake dating au)
come again and again by @jjungkookislife s (established relationship au)
waste it on me by @sunshinejunghoseokie f a (enemies to lovers au rock band au)
Lucky one by @sparklingchim s (established relationship au)
Laundry love by @hisunshiine s (neighbour au)
awkwardly in love by @strawberrynamjoon f (friends to lovers au)
amateur dance by @eternally-writing f s (boyfriend au)
Can't be without you by @ahundredtimesover f s a (best friends au underground fighter jk)
caught in a web by @gukptune f s (spiderman au)
tangled thoughts by @mimikookie a (spiderman au exes to lovers au)
And if I did? by @mimikookie f s (spiderman au established relationship au)
To have known you by @mimikookie f (spiderman au established relationship au)
Patch me up by @adoringjjk f a (spiderman au reporter reader)
catch me by @taetortotss (spiderman au)
Arachne-boy by @kinktae (spiderman au friends to lovers au)
Tangled web by @ughseoks f a (spiderman au soulmate au)
call me jungkook by @ughseoks f a (spiderman au)
all webbed up by @ughseoks s (spiderman au boyfriend au)
I love so I let go by @yukheii (spiderman au friends to lovers au)
webslinger by @lemon-boy-stan a (spiderman au boyfriend au)
↬remember I mentioned that spidey jungkook phase I went through :) ... honestly I'm still going through it so if you know of any marvel au's with the members or jungkook spiderman au's please share them I would love to read it ♡
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cutechim · 8 months ago
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a little closer|jjk
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part I of the prequel series to too close.
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summary. you’re so fucking pretty, sometimes jungkook finds it hard to believe.
pairing. girlfriend!reader x boxer!jungkook
genre. rival gang au (implied)|smut, mild angst
word count. 2.1k
warnings. nsfw (18+) porn with very little plot, mentions of violence, mild description of boxing injuries, jungkook has some insecurities about ex!namjoon, mention of emasculation, language, rough sex (but with lots of feelings), dom!jk, sub!reader, mentions of exhibitionism, dirty talk, cumplay, nipple play, overstimulation (oc cries because of it), mild degradation, spit kink, face-fucking
notes. i originally wasn’t going to post this because i was unsure about it—i owe a big thank you to @yslkook​ and @bratkook​ for hyping me up and making me feel better about it 🤧
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“I said quiet, sweetheart,” Jungkook rasps into your ear, unrelenting as he continues to thrust into you. He drops one of your thighs in favor of clamping his hand over your mouth, repeating with a husky breath, “Quiet.”
Your whimpers are muffled by his calloused hand, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he pushes back into you—just slowly enough for you to enjoy the stretch of your walls around his girth.
He loves just how pliant you are like this—speared on his cock with your back against the cold metal lockers, your legs trembling from stimulation as he pounds into you. 
He’s been brutal tonight, careless—not even bothering to take your clothes off, letting your skirt bunch at your waist and having pulled your panties to the side. Each slam of his hips sends a metallic ring throughout the empty room, accompanied by a poorly-concealed cry from you.
He doesn’t actually care about getting caught. He knows that everyone in the gym can probably hear the two of you. The walls are thin, and the high ceiling provides excellent acoustics. The desperate iterations of his name sound even better as they echo around the room.
As far as he’s concerned, your stupid friends should hear the moans coming from you, the way you’re crying out his name. 
They should know how well he takes care of you, how good he is for you.
“You’re doing so well, baby,” he croons, stroking your glistening lower lip with his thumb. “We wouldn’t want everyone else to see you like this, right? You’re such a needy slut for me.”
You can only manage a nod with his hand still clamping your mouth shut, but your welling eyes convey what you’ve said a million times before.
Only for you.
“That’s right. Such a sweet little slut.”
Jungkook can’t pretend that he doesn’t have something to prove.
He can’t take you to fancy restaurants like Namjoon can, he can’t buy you pretty jewelry like your friends’ boyfriends do—he can’t even hold your hand in public past the midtown bridge. To everyone you’ve ever loved, he’s just a hot-headed, penniless boy from the wrong side of the tracks.
Yet, he feels invincible during moments like this. His blood is still pumping with liquid adrenaline, the incomparable high of victory leaving him nothing short of intoxicated. He has half a mind to invite your friends inside to show them what a man looks like.
“Kook, it’s too much,” you sob, your grip on his locks loosening, arms falling slack around his shoulders. “T-too much.”
Jungkook takes a moment to readjust you in his arms, lifting your leg up to spread you wider.
“You can take it, baby,” he coos, grinding his pelvis against your clit to elicit another moan from your lips. “You look so pretty like this, creaming on my cock.”
And he means what he says, you’re a sight to behold—daintily dressed in pastel colors, a pin adorning your beautiful hair, sweeping it away from your face. The red rimming your eyes only adds to the ethereal visual, tears of pleasure beginning to streak your cheeks.
You’re so fucking pretty, he finds it hard to believe. That you walk among mortals like him, and in this hellhole of a city, at that.
Not to mention your gorgeous cunt—glistening petals of a flower only he has the privilege to touch.
“Please,” you whimper shakily. You squeeze your eyes shut, legs quivering in his grasp, signaling that you’re at the peak of your pleasure and it’s soon to pass. “Let me cum, Kookie, please.”
He knows you’re at your limit. 
“Alright, sweetheart,” he accepts, reaching to smooth out the hair that’s fallen in front of your face, sticking to your tears. “Let go now, I’ve got you.”
It takes a few moments, your mewls becoming faint and breathy amidst the overstimulation he’s subjected you to. He drags his hips against yours, pushing you over the edge with exact precision.
He can see each movement in the symphony that entails your release, the pleasure and satiation washing over your expression in a wave. Your eyes flutter shut when the coil snaps, mouth falling open to let out a sweet little moan, legs still shaking in his grip.
“That’s it,” he says, gently releasing his hold to cup your jaw. “So good for me, aren’t you?”
You whimper softly in response, letting him bring your lips in for a bruising kiss. It’s wet and messy, your lips chasing his in a desperate cry for attention.
For someone who’s grown up watching these violent affairs up close, you react to his matches as viscerally as a newcomer. You’re always like this afterwards—your gaze lingering on him tenderly, as if you’re worried he might slip through your fingers at any moment. Haunted by images of the brutality he puts himself through, you’re shamelessly needy for his touch, for his praise and reassurance.
“Come here,” he beckons, taking your cheeks between his fingers, pushing your mouth into an open pout. Your delicate features harshly contrast his bruised, ink-laden knuckles, and the visual sends a pulse of red-hot desire through his veins. “Good girls get rewarded.”
You eagerly anticipate the glob of spit he drops onto your tongue, swallowing it easily with an added lick to your lips for good measure.
His cock responds automatically, twitching inside you at the sight of your swollen lips glistening with his saliva. Your smudged lipstick beckons him—begging to be further messied.
“Get on your knees,” he commands, his voice coming out with a low timbre as he pulls himself out of your cunt.
You comply easily, reaching to pull the straps of your dress down as you kneel. With a slight tug to your lace bra, you let the dainty fabric bunch up underneath your peaks, exposing your pert nipples to the chilly locker-room air.
Scooting closer to him, you wrap a hand around his thigh to steady yourself, using your other hand to take his, intertwining your fingers gently.
The small gesture never fails to set butterflies off in his stomach. He hates himself for it, but he wonders if Kim Namjoon ever held your hand while you choked on his cock, if he ever had the privilege of making you feel safe like this.
Because there’s no hesitation in your eyes, no qualms about being vulnerable with him.
“Use me, Kook,” you whisper, looking up at him with an imploring gaze. “Fuck my throat.”
The words are filthy and crass, but your actions are anything but. Your eyes are earnest, your grip gentle against his hand. It drives him crazy, the contrast, and he knows he’ll be replaying the moment again in the future—with a hand wrapped around his cock and love on the brain.
Enveloping your palm in his, he guides his cock to your lips. “Two taps if you want me to stop,” he reminds you gently, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your knuckles.
You hum in acknowledgement, peering up at him through batting eyelashes as you drop a kiss to his tip.
“You’re so fucking pretty,” Jungkook exhales heavily, directing the head of his cock into your mouth and letting his length weigh heavy on your tongue. He palms one of your tits with his freed hand, focusing on the sight as you wrap your lips around him.
But just a gentle swipe of your tongue across his leaking tip sends a shiver down his spine, a languid groan leaving his throat involuntarily. You respond to the sound eagerly, releasing him momentarily to lick a broad stripe along his length, lapping at your glistening arousal that drips off of it.
“Do you taste yourself on my cock, pretty girl?” he asks, cradling the back of your head to slowly guide your movements. “Your pussy always tastes so sweet.”
You nod, dropping an especially wet kiss to the head of his cock before relinquishing control to him.
“Just wanna make you feel good, Kookie,” you mumble, whining slightly. “Let me help you feel good.”
Taking a handful of your hair in his grasp, he sets a gentle pace, leaning back against the wall of lockers to enjoy the sight in front of him. He absentmindedly circles his thumb against your hand, relaxing into your touch—you’re already familiar with the rhythm that drives him insane. 
You bob your head to accentuate each stroke, hollowing your cheeks just enough to get his heart rate up.
“Fuck, fuck,” he mutters under his breath, unraveling much faster in the wet warmth of your mouth than he would have preferred. His hips are already snapping into you of their own volition, but you’re unwavering even when he hits the back of your throat.
With tears pricking your eyes, you allow him to push his length down your throat, swallowing around him despite any instincts to gag. And right when he thinks you’ve reached your limit, you push yourself just a tad further—choking slightly but taking it nonetheless—a silent tear streaming down your cheek.
The lewd sight of your mouth—stuffed to the brim with his cock, paired with the velvety sensation of your throat, sends him barrelling towards his release.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he pants heavily, pulling out before accidentally spilling into your mouth.
You take a moment to catch your breath, letting out a cough, your voice still raspy when—
“Cum on my tits, Kookie,” you croak, looking up at him earnestly. “Please.”  
You don’t need to ask twice. 
He takes his cock into his hand, gaze fixed on how enticing your tits look—full and rounded, goosebumps raised on the skin around them. It takes barely a single stroke for his cum to come spilling out onto you.
A white ribbon decorates your chest, his cock pulsing in his hand, erratic breaths sounding out through the air—until he slowly begins coming down from his high.
He hisses when you put your mouth back onto him, cleaning him up with your tongue, sucking gently at his tip.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans, in complete awe of the sight beneath him. It’s pornographic—the pearly liquid having landed right across one of your nipples, beginning to drip down your pebbled peak. He uses his thumb to smear some of his essence further into your skin, rolling gentle circles to elicit a soft sigh from your lips.
And to his surprise, you gently grasp his wrist in response, guiding his thumb to your mouth and taking it in between your lips. Looking up at him with your eyelashes fluttering coyly, you lightly suck his digit, hollowing your cheeks to give him an image that’s instantly seared into his mind.
“Shit,” he mutters to himself, reaching to caress your jaw. “You’re so perfect.”
You give him a shy smile, letting him help you back up onto your feet.
It’s then that he realizes he’s still holding your hand—your loose grasp having tightened into interlocked fingers.
He doesn’t even give you a second to find your balance, sweeping you into his arms bridal-style to press a kiss to your lips. 
Despite your initial surprise, you easily relax into his arms, reciprocating softly to mold your lips to his. So he takes his time with you, letting your tastes mingle while he cradles your frame.
When he finally pulls away, “What’s this for?” you ask with a giggle, reaching to push a few sweat-dampened strands of hair from his face.
He pauses for a moment, unsure of the answer himself.
All he knows is that he wants to be close to you, wants to hold you for a little longer. Wants to let himself feel more than what he’s supposed to be feeling, more than what he’s allowed to feel.
“Stay at my place tonight,” he requests earnestly. “Say you’re sleeping over at Jisoo’s.”
He knows the risks. He’s a dead man if your family finds out that he’s touched a single hair on your head.
And you know that too.
“Kook—”
“Just one night,” he interrupts you, before your anxieties run away from you. “It’ll be okay, I promise.”
Fraught silence fills the room when you hesitate, your eyes gleaming with worry. You reach for his face again, trailing your fingers along his jaw, pressing a soft kiss to the gash on his cheekbone—delicate with every movement.
When he winces anyways, the wound still raw and tender, he can see your heart breaking in two.
“Not tonight,” you reply softly, and his stomach sinks. “We’ll plan something soon, I promise. Just...not tonight.”
He masks his disappointment with a reassuring smile and a kiss to your nose.
“Okay,” he accepts weakly, before repeating the word that taunts him, hoping that some miracle could manifest it into reality— “soon.”
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sketchguk · 8 months ago
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lining’s silver; myg
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➳ pairing: fashion designer!yoongi x artist!reader
➳ genre: college AU, idiots to lovers, e2l, smut, fluff
➳ wc: 14.1k
➳ synopsis: you would rather die than confess you’re capable of feeling anything but disdain towards the rich and privileged, so you make it known, loud and clear, that going on a bunch of dates with min yoongi is nothing more than an academic arrangement for the sake of your gpa. holding hands and catching f*elings for him? that’s all part of the plan, so don’t get the wrong idea.
or as jeongguk likes to call it, “matchmaking 101: how to get two tsunderes to fall in love.”
➳ warnings: explicit language, pining, mention of family issues, alcohol consumption, mint yoongi >:), fingering, oral (f receiving), penetration, dirty talk, lowkey dumbification
➳ a/n: this is dedicated to my birthday neighbor and my favorite clown in the world, @moominyg​ !! the fluff is for you, but the smut is for me >:) happy birthday to us :D and thank you for pretending that you didn’t know about this gift LOL
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You’ve been told that “hate” is a strong word, but you can wholeheartedly say that you detest a lot of people. 
For whatever reason, college has only made this feeling fester in your heart like an ember that’s ready to ignite. Before, you’ve considered the possibility that maybe you’re just being cynical. But on the other hand, you know for a fact that you’ve had too many run-ins with snobby film majors and arrogant theater kids for their abborhibble attitude to be more than a mere coincidence. Contrary to popular belief, enjoying Game of Thrones does not make you tasteless and not knowing Alexander Hamil-something does not make you uncultured. 
Hell, you even hate some of the other obnoxious illustration majors. They’re all just Van Gogh junkie wannabes, but to be fair, Jeon Jeongguk isn’t a bad kid. You only hate him because he’s talented at every art form, and it’s seriously insufferable. Regardless, you’re going to be bitter about this until the day you can graduate from this hell hole that they call college and say au revoir to the ‘best years of your life.’
To make matters worse, half of the students at this school are pretentious trust fund babies. You've seen them strut down Bowery with a silver spoon in their mouth as if they own the whole damn street. Sure, some of them reside in an 18,000 sq. ft. penthouse apartment in the heart of TriBeCa with panoramic views of the Hudson River and midtown skyline. And of course they own a luxury vehicle equipped with their very own chauffeur. Perhaps their yearly salary equates to four semesters worth of college tuition, but good for them, right? And yes, they’re going to waste their money away on clothing companies like Balenciaga and Fendi because nothing screams “humble” like stupidly expensive designer brands.
They’re handed everything in life, and the privilege that they are afforded is appalling. 
Any other person would brave through the morning rush on the L train, balancing a cream cheese bagel in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. Perhaps it’s a safety hazard to pack hundreds of people onto subway cars, and maybe it’s not the most sanitary thing for rodents to scour beneath the tracks. But at least the morning commute builds character, right?
And the thing is… the rich kids aren’t even the worst of the bunch, actually. As much as you hate wealth inequality and the devil, capitalism, your sworn mortal enemy is much worse than some yuppie in Supreme and a pair of Yeezys. 
That is unless, of course, they happen to be a fashion student.
It’s nothing personal, but for all you care, that whole department can go to hell. 
Anyone with a pair of functional eyes can see that fashion majors are like the favorite child of the family. This school will throw all their money at those kids while the other departments will get scrappy leftovers and raggedy hand-me-downs. 
Recall the electrical fire of 2018? 
Ah, of course you do because your animation course relocated into a closet-sized classroom without any equipment. There weren’t even enough chairs for the students, and you had to grab stools from the art studio next door. Needless to say, your back pain has gotten much worse since then, and your spine is never to be recovered. Meanwhile, the history of fashion class enjoyed their ergonomic office chairs as they staked their claims on the computer lab that you so desperately needed. 
Ever since, you’ve made a promise to yourself to never fraternize with a fashion student. Some may consider this tactic to be petty, but they are going to have to pry your ego away from your cold, dead hands if they want you to budge. 
“Are you aware of how deathly terrifying your stare is?” 
Your attention shifts to the boy before you, and Jeongguk cowers under your dirty gaze. The cold aluminum can crinkles beneath your tight grasp as you squeeze away at its life. 
“It’s the resting bitch face, what do you want from me?” You stab your fork into your overpriced spinach salad, and Jeongguk takes the hint 一 you’re not in a particularly good mood. 
“Who wronged you today, huh?” He brings up bad memories just to provoke you because it’s what he does best. 
Your jaw clenches and your eyes squint at the sight of the culprit. “Park Jimin.” 
“What’d he do this time?” He chews on his coldcut sandwich with his cute, bunny teeth, although Jeon Jeongguk is anything but cute. The ridicule is evident in his tone as he finds a little bit of joy in your misery. 
“He’s too nice.” 
He playfully rolls his eyes, “God, that’s so criminal.” 
“Isn’t it?” You scoff, “It should be illegal. First of all, class is at 9am. There’s no way that he could be that happy when I can’t even keep my eyes open!” Your voice raises several pitches, and Jeongguk puts his hands up in defense, palms forward, reminding you that he’s not the enemy.
Your rumbling voice only adds to the boisterous cafeteria because in a school full of artistic students, a good portion of them don’t know a thing about volume control. But Jeongguk turns around and lo and behold, Jimin is chatting away with the other performing arts majors a few tables behind him. It’s impossible to miss his stupid, bright, yellow beanie and his even stupidly brighter smile. And despite the astronomical volume of the dining hall, Jimin’s sweet laughter echoes in Jeongguk’s ears and resounds above the dissonant voices of the other students.
“It’s just his personality, let him be,” he shrugs, lecturing you. “And stop staring at the dance kids. It’s rude.”
To be fair, you’re not really a morning person, nor are you much of a people person either. If someone were to breathe in your direction within the first hour of you waking up, surely they’re asking for trouble. 
Jeongguk tugs at the corners of your lips so that you’re forced to smile. It’s his failed attempt to cheer you up. “You’re working on the digital fashion project with Yoongi tomorrow, right? Don’t be so grumpy.”
You grimace at the sound of his every word. “Which part of that sentence is supposed to make me feel better?” Your eyebrows furrow and your lips press together into a straight line as you send Jeongguk your infamous death stare.
He winces, instantly apologizing, already knowing that he’s in the wrong.
No offense to Min Yoongi or whatever because you’re sure he’s a decent guy. He sits in the back of class and minds his own business. You’ve spoken to him on a couple of occasions, and he seems pretty normal to say the least. Quite frankly, that would be a compliment if you were to live in the realm of Animal Crossing. Typically, he’s asking to borrow a pen from you, but come to think of it… he always forgets to return them. 
Okay, so maybe you do have a reason to hate the guy and not just because he’s a fashion major. 
On top of his petty thefts and privileged career choices, you seriously don’t look forward to seeing him because just like any other assignment, this project is absolutely useless. How does your professor expect you to design an outfit that encapsulates both of your personalities? You struggle to know yourself, yet you have to take someone else entirely into consideration ー someone you hold a permanent grudge against, no less. 
Group projects like these never end well, especially when there are creative differences that split the chasm between you and your partner. Call it a conflict of interest, if you must, but Jeongguk likes to refer to it as Matchmaking 101: How to Get Two Tsunderes to Fall in Love. He’d never admit it out loud, knowing that he should prepare his will if he were to ever bring up the L word. 
It’s an unspoken rule that Jeongguk should never talk about 1) your makeup choices ー in particular, the excessive insistence of questionable colored blush and 2) the way that your face flusters beneath said questionable blush whenever you’re within a 10 ft. radius of Yoongi.
Not to be dramatic, but you’d rather die than confess you’re capable of feeling anything but disdain towards the rich and the privileged, so you make it known, loud and clear, that getting to know Yoongi is nothing more than an academic arrangement for the sake of your GPA.
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Swallowed by the white noise of the chugging subway, you sway from side to side with your hand wrapped tightly around the metal pole. Staring out the grimy glass window, you’re met with nothing but the passing of dim tunnel walls.
The muffled, monotonous tone of the conductor blares through the cheap audio system that’s been out of date for the past decade. “23rd street. Next stop, 34th street, Herald Square. Transfers to the B, D, M, N, Q, R, and W. Stand clear of the closing doors.” 
While the trains skid in and out of the stations, you can’t help but slip into your musings, disassociating from the world around you. 
You pay no mind to the sea of people that crowd the train car, hundreds of faces that you’ll never cross paths with once again. On one side, you’ve got the kid selling gummy snacks to fundraise for his nonexistent basketball team, and on the other side, there’s the ‘showtime’ dude, dancing up and down the poles, ready to knock you upside the head as if you deserve it. In the spaces between, the whisper-fighting couple pretends as if nobody can hear their petty argument, and the grumpy man beside you is muttering to himself, enraged over the train delay. 
It almost feels claustrophobic, but it isn’t an unfamiliar sensation to you. In a weird way, it’s sort of comfortable, like a reminder of your childhood.
There’s a sudden vibration that courses through your body, breaking you away from your reverie. Regretfully, you rummage through your bottomless tote bag to fish out your cell phone, checking the onslaught of incoming texts. 
3 new messages
jaykAaAy (11:47am): have fun on your date!!! ;) make sure you don’t kill yoongi!!!! 😔
jaykAaAy (11:50am): and don’t bite him either!!! 
yoongi 😣 (11:56 am): hey, I’m at the entrance of the library 
You roll your eyes at the absolute clownery of your best friend, and you stuff your phone into the pocket of your checkered culottes, reminding yourself to respond as soon as you enter the platform of the station. 
you (11:59 am): omg shut up >:/ !! i m nuthing but nive
you (11:59 am): *nice
you (11:59 am): N ITS NOT A DATE
you (12:00 pm): SORry fr th wait, yOONI!!! jus got off rhe traim
Your responses are written haphazardly, but the point is still there. The most surprising thing is that you managed to type coherent sentences while stumbling up the narrow staircase with dozens of passersby who are ready to knock you over.
No matter how long you’ve been in the city, you swear that you’re never going to walk out of the correct exit. Is it the northwest corner of 42nd street and 6th avenue, or is it the west side of 6th avenue between 39th and 40th street? The signs never make any sense to you, and neither does the complicated subway map. 
You decide it’s best to pick a random exit and walk from the street level, but of course, your sense of direction is far from correct, and you’re forced to take the long way around the park. 
When you approach the library, you find it difficult to spot your partner because of how colossal this place is. It’s almost painfully classy with white, stone columns and Latin inscriptions at the top of the building. And for God’s sake, there are lion sculptures on either side of the entrance. 
You’re too distracted sending Yoongi a follow up text to notice the man in question watching you walk around so aimlessly. 
“Hey, no offense, but do you ever watch where you’re going?” A husky voice rings from behind you, and you can feel a soft tap upon your shoulder. You’ve just about had it with men and their self-righteous attitude. 
“You know wha一” Turning around, ready to talk his ear off, you come face to face with a darkly clad figure. Your chin tilts up slightly in order to meet his gaze, but his head hangs low, his dark eyes concealed under his black bucket hat, his hands tucked away into the front pockets of his skinny jeans.
“Oh my god, I was this close to punching you.” You grit your teeth and unclench your fists when you notice the smirk on his lips. Yet you remain on standby, prepared to kick misogyny in the ass any day. “But sorry I’m late.” 
“Yeah, it’s fine,” Yoongi mumbles.
You grind your teeth and flash him a lackluster smile to make this a little less (painfully) awkward for yourself. A beat of silence thrums by, and you suddenly remember the advice that Jeongguk offered last night 一 something about slipping a compliment to offset how agonizing your smile is. And must he be reminded for the hundredth time, you can’t change your resting bitch face. 
“Your hair looks nice by the way,” you offer. 
His hands reach up for the crown of his head, almost as if he’s forgotten what his hair looks like. Soft tufts of mint stick out from beneath the dark fabric and rest against his forehead. “... I’m wearing a hat though?” 
A nervous chuckle forces its way through your chest, “Uh… I mean, I like the color... from what I can see.” 
Yoongi mindlessly touches his bangs with the tip of his finger, parting it slightly. “Ah, right,” a tinge of pink blushes over his round cheeks, and he pulls on the rim of his hat, casting a shadow over the top half of his face. 
“Uhh.. you ready to go?” He turns around, though he doesn’t get too far before stopping in his tracks.
“You coming?” He stares at you blankly while you stand in place, offering him a mischievous smile.
Your lips curl, a little lopsided, and you cock your head to the side, “I didn’t say we were going to the library.” 
He gapes at you, his mouth hanging open the slightest bit. “We’re not gonna do research or outline or something?” 
“Nope! Follow me!” And you set off onto the concrete sidewalk before you can even finish your sentence. Yoongi catches up to you, and you stroll down the perimeter of the block, side by side, taking in the scenery before you. 
There’s something very special about Autumn in New York City.
She arrives slowly, but gracefully. She lives amongst the trees, sometimes nascent and sometimes gilded with gold. The autumnal air is fresh with an earthly aroma, almost strong enough to mask the urban scent of greasy pizza, hot curbside trash, and fleeting success. But as you approach closer and closer to your destination, the atmosphere is filled to the brim with an otherworldly aura.
It’s unmistakable ー the smell of hot chocolate, pumpkin spice, and apple cinnamon. Quite frankly, the aroma of the Winter Village holiday market is almost overwhelming. At every nook and cranny of the park, there are food stands, Christmas shops, and vintage boutiques. There’s even a teeming ice rink in the center of it all. The hustle and bustle of the crowd makes it difficult to maneuver between the rows of glass cabins, but the crowd of people makes it feel as if you’re right at home.
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“Is this seriously what you had planned for today?” Yoongi deadpans.
With pure joy written across your face, you nod your head in utter jubilation. 
For what seems like the hundredth time, he looks up at the skate rental sign, trying to decipher if this is some kind of fever dream. Never in his lifetime did he think he would ever consider stepping foot into the Winter Village ice rink, let alone walk through the front entrance.
But here he is, tying his laces and trying to find his balance as he questions his sanity. 
Maybe this is a little out of the blue considering ‘no’ is a big part of Yoongi’s vocabulary, especially when Namjoon tries to drag him out of bed during free skate hours at the park. Because truth be told… Yoongi hates ice skating.
“Ready?!” There’s a glimmer in your eyes, and you can’t help but bounce up and down on the heels of your skates, acting as if this is child’s play.
“Uh, I think so?” Yoongi smooths out the creases of his jeans before attempting to stand. If you could spring up and down on a single blade, surely Yoongi can balance on solid ground, right? 
Well… 
His ankles nearly give out, and he stumbles over his own two feet. Thankfully, your arms extend to either side of him in order to keep him steady.
“You sure?” You query, double checking.
He lets out a cough and loosens his grip on either of your forearms before letting go of your coat sleeve, taking a step back. The apples of his cheeks turn into a peachy shade, but he’s convinced that it has something to do with the Autumn breeze.
“Yeah, I’m ready, let’s go,” he murmurs, zipping towards the rink with wobbly legs and heavy stomps.
“After you.” Gesturing to the entryway, he allows you to step in first.
Boldly enough, he follows suit, but remaining cautious, he holds onto the ledge as if his life depends on it. On the other hand, you manage to glide by, cruising at his side while he builds up the courage to let go.
“Remind me again why we’re here?” His eyes never tear away from his royal blue skates, carefully watching his knees buckle beneath him. Truthfully, he means to ask himself ‘why did he agree to be here in the first place?’
Little children swiftly waltz between you and Yoongi with their penguin skate aids. You’re forced to bite back a smile because Yoongi looks like Bambi on ice compared to all the other kids. His tongue hangs loose from the corner of his mouth, and the space between his forehead crinkles in concentration.
You entertain his fears, teasing him with the devilish curl of your lips. “There’s no better way to get to know someone than to share a life or death experience, don’t you think?” 
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he scoffs. “We’re not gonna die.” His grip on the ledge grows tighter, and his pale knuckles say otherwise, turning as red as the plastic bumper. 
“Yeah, I mean, what would you do without me?” You snicker. Gliding one step back, you head towards the center of the rink and pretend to leave him to his own devices.
“Wait! Where are you going?” He cries with wide eyes. You can’t discern whether they’re wide in fear or dismay. Call it masochism, but you’re kind of hoping it’s the former. 
“Every man for himself!” A grin stretches across your cheeks, finally seeing Yoongi let go of the ledge, following in your footsteps. His movement is slow, and his form is flawed, but at least he’s making progress. And more importantly, at least he hasn’t bruised his knees or busted his ass just yet.
You skate around him in circles, taunting him with your prowess, “You’re never gonna learn if you don’t allow yourself to fall!”
“You sound just like my mom,” he huffs, rolling his eyes.
When he finally catches up to you, you extend your hands for him to hold, “Come on, we don’t have all day.” 
He looks down at your gesture, hesitating, but he lets his pride get the best of him. “I can learn on my own.” His eyes dart elsewhere, anywhere but at you, almost as if he’s saving eye contact for marriage, and he fixates on the little scuff marks in the ice.
“Fine, survival of the fittest, right?” You muse one last time.
“Wait! Don’t leave me!” He takes ahold of your coat sleeve before you can turn around, and a smirk graces your lips. A part of you just knows that Yoongi has never begged in his life until this very moment.
He lets go of your sleeve and slips his hand into yours, letting you take the league. The stupid grin on your face never falters because you’re too pleased with yourself, and perhaps you’re slightly smitten with a certain mint haired boy, but you’d never dare to admit it out loud.
It almost feels as if you’re lugging him around, pulling his weight across the ice, but you let him believe that he’s putting in some of the effort as he kicks his feet back every couple of strides.
“Is there more to your plan, or are we just gonna skate around in circles?” He challenges your thought process, but he fails to appreciate your brilliance.
“Yoongi, don’t you trust me?” Your lips press together tightly, puffing out your cheeks and dramatically feigning offense.
“Have you given me a reason to?” Point blank.
“That’s a smart response.” You smile to yourself.
Thinking back to the list of questions that Jeongguk texted you late last night, you try to remember what came first. Apparently, he’s some self proclaimed friendship expert, but you know for a fact that he went to the Google search bar and clicked on the first article, ‘random questions to ask people who don’t give two shits The 36 Questions that Lead to Love.’ 
“Okay, uhm… riddle me this.” 
“Hmm?” At this point, he’s graduated from staring at ice skates to fixating at the juncture at which your hand interlocks with his. 
“If you could have dinner with anybody in the world, who would it be?” 
“What is this? An interview? We’re seriously gonna start with this question?” He scoffs in disbelief, but a small grin tugs on the corner of his lips.
“Okay, well would you rather I ask about your favorite color then?” You exasperate, “I hate small talk, and icebreakers make me wanna crawl into a hole. This is part of my plan, so just go with it!”
“Well, my favorite color is black if that isn’t obvious enough, and does it count if I say I miss my dog?” A dry chuckle rumbles from his chest, and he laughs for what you think is the first time since you’ve met him. A gummy smile spreads across his lips, his pearly whites on full display for the world to see. 
“Yoongi…?”
“Yeah?” 
You press your clammy hand against his cheek, loving the way he squirms beneath your fiery gaze. “Is that a smile that I see?” 
“Uhhh... no?” He scoffs, pulling away from your touch, the bottom half of his face now covered with the back of his hand. “I don’t know what you’re seeing, but maybe you should make an appointment with the eye doctor.” Pressing his lips together, he denies your mildly insulting but rudely accurate statement. 
You look over at his profile, and his ears are glowing like crimson, almost as red as the bottle of merlot that Yoongi is sure to crack open tonight. 
He makes it too easy to tease him. 
What you don’t realize is that your expression mirrors his, cheeks burning from the simper on your lips. You want to attribute it to the cold seeping from the ice, but that can’t be the case because Yoongi’s touch warms your hands, and his sweet laughter melts your frigid heart.
“What kind of dog do you have?” You ask, inquisitive.
“His name’s Holly, and he’s a toy poodle.” 
“Aw, that’s so cute!” you coo, “I wanna see pictures.” 
“Yeah, I’ve got a whole album,” he nods, but the smile on his face never fails to fade away. “What about you? Who would you want to have dinner with?” 
You remain quiet, hesitant of your answer because you haven’t given it much thought yourself. “Mmm… there’s a contemporary artist that I really like lately, but I wouldn’t say he’s very well-known.” You scrunch your nose, feeling a little embarrassed about your answer, unsure as to why you feel the need to preface this.
“What’s his name?” His hands squeeze yours a little tighter when he nearly loses his footing.
“Oh, his name? Vante ー He does a lot of visual art, and he uses so many vibrant colors. I wish I could do that. I literally only use black and white in my art, and my professors kind of hate me for it,” you ramble, chuckling nervously.
Yoongi isn’t a man of many words, but you appreciate that he’s attentive to what you have to say. “I’m sure your work is nice even if it’s black and white,” he offers his words gently and reassures you with a nod. “And I’ll look up the artist tonight or something,” but a part of you doesn’t think that he will.
There’s a brief intermission in the conversation before you suddenly remember the next question on Jeongguk’s list. “Hm, okay, how about this: would you want to be famous if you could?”
“Uh... not exactly famous, I guess?” Yoongi doesn’t even argue about your silly choice of questions this time around. He’s pretty much accepted it at this point as he ponders in his thoughts. His eyes narrow and his cheeks rise like bread when the smile lines begin to form on either side of his face. 
There’s a lull in his response, but the beat of silence is filled with premature holiday music and the sound of laughter from those around you.
“I just want to keep doing what I’m doing, and if I happen to gain popularity from it, then it’d be purely accidental,” he explains. “I mean, I think it’d be a lot of pressure, but if I can make some kind of change in the world, then why not, right?” 
“Oh God, that sounds terrifying,” you cackle, shaking your head. “I think my anxiety would eat me alive. Like when I make phone calls, I have to rehearse what I want to say in the mirror before committing.” Your face contorts, wincing at the thought of it. 
“How much more coherent are your phone calls if you send texts like a five year old?” he banters, a smirk pulling at his lips.
Your jaw drops open melodramatically as you shoot daggers at his profile, but Yoongi only stares straight ahead, actively avoiding your probing eyes with a smug look on his face. 
He can make fun of you for a countless number of things, but there’s no way he’s going to deprecate you without you one upping him. “Well the joke is on you because never in my life have I ever said one coherent thing.” You loosen your grip, managing to pull away from Yoongi’s grasp to show him that you mean business.
But he’s quick to call your bluff, grabbing your hand before you can travel too far from his reach.
Although you put on an unwilling expression, acting as if you’re compelled to be here and forced to hold his hand, the two of you are very aware that you’re the one who wanted to skate for the sake of this project ー almost as if it’s a matter of life and death.
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It’s one of those nights when you know for a fact that sleep isn’t an option. The clock is nearing 4am, and the sun is on the brink of the horizon. Meanwhile, you’re nowhere near home as you doze off in the quiet study of the school’s library, trying to finish up this stupid project for your product packaging class.
During these late hours of the night, you begin to fall in and out of consciousness, unaware of the last time you had a good night’s rest in the comfort of your own bed. Exhaustion overcomes you as it tugs heavy on your eyelids, but it doesn’t last for long because you wake up feeling groggy shortly after. It doesn’t help that you’re a light sleeper because the most subtle noise can pretty much raise you from the dead.
Tonight, it’s the sudden scrape of the wooden chair against the porcelain tiles that awakens you from your nap. Your head feels as heavy as a brick, but you manage to lift it up to identify the source of your disturbance. Although the sound is faint, someone has managed to roll you out of your peaceful slumber, and no matter how fatigued you are, you are going to raise from the infernos and give them hell.
“G’morning.” A deep, drowsy voice fills the quiet space when your gaze meets with the perpetrator who’s ballsy enough to wake you up at this ungodly hour.
You wouldn’t hesitate to throw a punch this time around, but upon seeing the culprit, you press your face flat against the laminated wood, defeated, burrowing a home into the desk once again. “Leave me alone, Yoongi.”
“Shouldn’t you be sleeping at home?” 
“Shouldn’t you?” You retort, turning your head to the other side. There’s not enough fight left in you to argue, granted that all sense of logic has flown out the window at 12 am (assuming there was any to begin with anyways).
“Yeah, I’m heading back right now,” he rasps. His voice is raw and sleepy, smooth like velvet and doused in sweet saccharine.
On any other day, Yoongi would want to go home as quickly as possible, blasting his headphones to J. Cole and Lil Wayne, yet here he is, trying to convince you to do the same. 
“Time?” You ask, voice muffled.
“4:32.”
You usually work until 5 am, sometimes 6, but at this rate, you’re not sure that you can make any more progress. It’s sort of what college does to a person, right? Ruin your sleep schedule, make you caffeine dependent, add a couple of kilograms, and shred off ten years of your life. It’s as though your body is so broken, you can’t even feel the soreness from the day you spent ice skating with Yoongi. 
An overaggerated groan escapes from your lips as you begrudgingly pack up your things, tossing your supplies into your knapsack.
Yoongi lingers at your side, picking up the canvas bag that remains neglected.
“Oh, you can just gimmeー” 
“Where’re you headed?” He interjects, slurring his words, eyes half lidded.
“Uh, it’s like one stop on the 6, but I usually save myself the fare and walk. You?” 
“Oh really? I gotta walk towards East Village,” he nods, offering his infamous “:|” smile ー if you can even consider it a smile. 
Yoongi holds the door open for you, and you hum a thank you in appreciation, not trusting your weary voice.
There’s a sudden drop in temperature considering winter is right around the corner. A shiver runs down your spine, and you tightly wrap your arms around your body to keep yourself warm.
A few taxi cars zip by, and it’s truly a testament to the city that never sleeps. 
In the daytime, these concrete streets are like a seething mass 一 a kaleidoscope of thundering heartbeats. But in the dead of the night, the world is hazy and the avenues are as barren as the feeling in your chest. 
The neon lights brighten up the boulevard, and the crosswalk signal illuminates your path while the two of you walk together in a numbing silence.
Yoongi’s low voice cuts through the quiet air as he calls your name. He’s not quite sure what to say, let alone why he needs your attention. He just likes the sound of your voice. 
“Do you have any ideas for the design yet?”
“No, don’t remind me,” you groan, rubbing the sleep away from your eyelids. “I haven’t thought about it lately.” 
“Do you need help?” He asks, letting out a yawn, “You free tomorrow?”
 You hum, too tired to respond in full sentences. “After 5, yeah.” 
“Kay, I’ll text you.” He slurs each syllable in a garbled string of words.
Engulfed by the silence, the two of you watch the cars race between the traffic lights.
“Oh by the way, my friend, Namjoon, is an intern at the Whitney, and I was telling him abouー Uh...” He corrects himself, “We were talking about that artist you like. Vante, right?”
“Yeah?” The sudden mention of his name grabs your attention and stirs you awake.
“Apparently he’s having a small exhibition at the end of the month?” His words come out more like a question rather than a statement, and he scratches at the back of his neck, readjusting the headphones that have found permanent residence in his ear. “My friend said he could get tickets for the opening Q&A.” 
Your brain stutters for a moment, and you can blame it on the exhaustion. “Oh my god, shut up, you’re kidding me, aren’t you?” You grab onto his bicep, almost unbelieving, and your tote bag falls loose on his shoulder. Your jaw goes slack as your lips part open in surprise, “Say sike right now.” 
But Yoongi only shakes his head, pretending like this isn’t a big deal to you.
“Wait, are you like, inviting me? Because I might cry if you are.” It’s a fair warning granted that you’ve teared up over an extra chicken nugget in your McDonald’s happy meal on the occasional drunken nights. Although you’re not intoxicated in this very moment, you are tired and extremely grateful.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t mention it if I wasn’t asking. I’ve known him for like ten years, and he owes me one anywー” 
A squeal falls from your lips, and your heart leaps from your chest. Yoongi looks over at you, but your mind has already escaped from the conversation, attention span falling short. Instead, your distracted pupils are blown wide open and locked onto something in the near distance.
“Oh my god, look!”
In your path, there’s a stray cat that’s padding through the thickening night, blending into the shadows of the back alleyways. But with bright green eyes that match the top of Yoongi’s head, it’s nearly impossible to miss.
The gentle critter stops in his wake, looking back at the two of you. He’s completely unbothered as he walks in your direction with his tail held high, nudging his nose against your canvas shoes, begging for the slightest bit of affection.
“Hey, little guy,” you coo, reaching down to scratch his ear.
The feline responds with a purr, inching closer to your touch. He prowls up on your bent knee in an attempt to get closer.
“Agh, he’s so precious,” and you swear that your heart could combust at the sight. “Were you eavesdropping on our conversation, buddy? Do you wanna check out the exhibition too?” You leave behind a little smooch on the top of his head, melting at the sound of his soft purrs. Anyone else would think that you’re delirious from the lack of sleep, but it’s quite the contrary, actually.
Although it may seem like you have a rough exterior, never having let your guard down, one of your three brain cells is devoted entirely to your love for cats and furry creatures.
“He kind of looks like you, don’t you think?” You ask Yoongi, obviously kidding. 
But to no avail, there’s no response from the quiet boy beside you.
“Yoongi?” You try to capture his attention once again although it seems as if he’s zoned out. You’re sure that he can see your lips moving because he’s looking right at you, but the words aren’t processing in his head. 
“... Yoongi?” You try one more time. 
He shakes himself out of his reverie. “Yeah?” 
“Is your music a little too loud?” A lazy smile stretches your lips as you tap on the shell of your ear. 
“Sorry,” he mumbles. His thumb presses on the ‘volume down’ button, but he knows for a fact that his playlist has been paused ever since stepping out of the library. 
He’s too lost in his own thoughts, basking in the moment as he sits in the middle of Park Avenue at 5 in the goddamn morning. While you attempt to communicate with this four legged creature, Yoongi can’t help but wonder why he’s never taken the long way home before today.
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jaykAaAy (5:17pm): did yoobi replace me as your bff yet? 🥺👉🏽👈🏽
you (5:17pm): u’re acting more dramatic than jin 😐
you (5:17pm): it’s not a good look on u, stop
you (5:17pm): and it’s yooNGi !!! get it right smh
jaykAaAy (5:18pm): >:( fine. don’t forget the questions!!!!
you (5:18om): no <3 some of them are dumb :/ 
“Is that your boyfriend texting you?” 
The question catches you off guard, and you almost faceplant onto the concrete.
“Boyfriend? Oh God, no.” You have to restrain yourself from gagging because Jeongguk is quite literally like a brother to you. “All of my nightmares are about him chasing me down a dark forest,” you say, chuckling, “Take that as you will.”
“Gotcha,” Yoongi murmurs to himself, lugging his bulky suitcase down the asphalt, his fabrics and textiles filling the case to the brim.
There’s a question that rests at the tip of your tongue, although you’re not sure if you’ve reached that level of friendship yet. But that’s precisely why you’re doing this project, right? “Why? Did your significant other say anything about you hanging out with a random girl?” The curiosity gets the best of you. 
“Uh… no? Even if I had a partner, it’s a pretty bad sign for them not to trust me doing a group project, don’t ya think?” 
His question is rhetorical, yet you can’t help but agree anyways.
What you’ve noticed about Yoongi is that he seems to always have the right thing to say. He’s wise beyond his years, and his words are comforting in a way that you’d never expect.
Marching down the streets, with heels clicking against the pavement, matching the rhythm of the city, the two of you head towards some hole in the wall coffee shop 一 Yoongi’s favorite apparently.
“Wait, what’s this?” There’s a tiny sign that catches your attention, and you retrace your steps to figure out what it is. 
“Play me, I’m yours,” you pick up the placard, reading it aloud before resting it in its place. 
It sits on top of a well-worn grand piano, bleached with sun damage and faded with stories as old as time 一 or at least as old as the dive bar it resides in front of. 
You hunch over the bench, pressing one of the ivory keys, just because the sign said so. The note vibrates through the air, and you squeal at the sound. A smile makes its way onto your lips, and you look up at Yoongi to see if he’s just as excited as you are.
Surely, his excitement is not as obvious as yours, but his little ‘:]’ smile is honestly the biggest reaction you could possibly receive from him. 
You rest the pad of your fingertips on the vintage keys, anticipating to play more, although you are far from proficient. He cocks his head toward the piano, encouraging you. 
“Do you know how to play?” He asks. 
“Watch me,” you utter, quirking a single brow. Throwing your legs over the bench, you resort to playing a widely renowned song that Yoongi is bound to know. It’s a classic that transcends beyond all cultural barriers, and it also happens to be the only song that you know how to play 一 Chopsticks.
Pressing down on the keys, pretending to be some kind of musical genius, you allow yourself to run through the first few bars of the song. Although the chords are repetitive, using only your two index figures at your disposal, it’s a timeless piece, and who’s to argue with you that this isn’t music? 
When you reach the repeat section, Yoongi plops down on the bench beside you, joining at the lower octave, hitting the keys in the same fashion.
After one more round, the monophony splits into a harmony between both players. Yoongi’s hands dance across the keys so effortlessly, and it’s like the music just flows through his veins. Meanwhile, you continue to play the supporting theme, repeating the same four chords from the very beginning. A happy melody sounds through the air as you hum to the tune in the most tone deaf manner. And although the music eventually fades, your smile never seems to break away. 
“You know how to play the piano?” You muse. 
“Yeah, I taught myself actually.”
“Ah, so you’re a genius, huh?” You bump your shoulder against his, jokingly. 
His shoulder bumps yours right back. “Nah, I just didn’t have a lot of money for things like ice skating lessons.”
“Hey, if you wanna learn, you just gotta ask me!” You shrug, sending him a smile. 
He shakes his head, but there’s a grin that settles on his face, “Mmm, I’ll think about it.”
Suddenly, a hint of worry settles when a drop of water falls from the gray skies and onto the back of your hand. “Do you feel that?”
Yoongi’s heart thuds, and he’s overly aware of this heavy feeling in his chest. “Uh… Feel what?”
“I think it’s raining,” you pat your hand over the top of your head, though the drops have already melted in your hair.
“Oh, yeah, I guess it is,” though truthfully, the only thing that he can feel is the heart shaped lump in the middle of his throat. “Should we get going?” He grabs the handle of his luggage, ready to drag it to the next place on the agenda.
Although the sun has disappeared beneath the clouds, the dust of a pink sunset cascades over Yoongi’s cheeks. Unfortunately, he can’t hide his bashfulness under the rim of his black bucket hat today, granted that he’s opted it out from his attire.
“The coffee shop isn’t that far from here,” he scrambles off the bench and heads down the block while you dawdle behind him, unsure as to what the rush is all about.
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Okay, so maybe the rush is a little necessary.
The rain is starting to pour down incessantly, but you manage to find shelter in the cafe.
“Yoongi! I thought you were busy today. Didn’t expect to see you,” the cashier chimes upon your arrival, spotting Yoongi’s bright head of mint from behind you.
“I’m working on the project, remember?” He straightens out his clothing, smoothing down the creases of his longline jacket before unbuttoning it.
You can’t help but gawk at the dude behind the counter, wondering how in the world he’s acquainted with Yoongi. From their appearance alone, it’s quite obvious that they are literally opposites.
Yoongi is dressed in an all black attire, almost as if he has a business meeting with the personification of death. A pair of half-rimmed, browline spectacles sit upon his gentle nose bridge, allowing him to finally see the world around him without having to squint so damn hard.
Meanwhile, his friend is adorned in an oversized, turquoise cardigan with white, diamond buttons. There’s a large daisy pattern across the bodice, and there are smiley faces that are imprinted in the center of each flower. He almost looks like a cartoon character.
Yoongi’s friend takes notice of your presence, flashing you a polite smile that radiates brighter than the sun. “Oh, is this the friend you were talking about?”
“Friend?” Your brows arch, turning to Yoongi for confirmation. 
“Uhm, yeah, so this is my roommate, Hoseok” Yoongi gestures to the boy across the counter, “You can ignore him if you want.” 
“Hey! Don’t act like I’m not your best friend,” Hoseok playfully slaps the back of his hand against Yoongi’s shoulder. “Anyways, he’s told me a lot about you.”
“Woah, what’d you hear?” Your eyes widen in surprise, not expecting Yoongi to ever mention your name in conversation outside of school.
“Where do I even begin?一”
The smirk on Hoseok’s face is quickly replaced with a pout when Yoongi cuts his speech short. “Sorry, we’ve got a lot of work to do, Hobi, but can I get the usual?” 
“I’m just a coffee dispenser to you, aren’t I?” Hoseok shakes his head, feigning offense. “One americano coming up. And what can I get for the lovely lady?”
You send Hoseok a sweet smile that mirrors his, but you’re too busy conversing with him to notice the frown that sits on Yoongi’s face. 
“Can I get an iced coffee?” Tried and true, it’s the same order you always get regardless of how cold it is outside. 
Hoseok punches the order into the register before announcing your total. “Yep, and are you guys paying together or separately?”
“Together’s fine.” Yoongi passes some cash over the counter, and you don’t even have a chance to refute. 
You almost turn around to follow Yoongi towards the empty tables, but you decide against it, the curiosity getting the best of you. 
“I will give you five dollars if you tell me what Yoongi said about me.” Your voice sounds almost desperate, and Hoseok stares at you blankly, wondering if you’re actually serious about this transaction. The crisp five dollar bill in your hand is surely a sign that you mean business. 
“Are you bribing me?” 
“I mean I wouldn’t say it’s a bribe...,” you begin. 
He looks at the money as if he’s considering it, but he shakes his head, standing his ground. “Nuh-uh.” He pretends to zip his mouth shut. “I told myself that I’m gonna keep quiet, so I’m sorry, but you’re not gonna hear it from me.”
There’s a pout on your lips as you mutter inaudibly to yourself, tracing your foot over the honeycomb tiles, thinking about your next course of action. 
“Fine,” you sulk, defeated. “Can I get two slices of tiramisu then?” 
Hoseok’s bright smile illuminates his face once again as you pass him the $5 bill. The chime of the cash register sounds through the air, and you trudge towards your awaited table with pity cake in hand.
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There’s a long list of things that you can spend hours doing. This includes, but is not limited to, rendering pds files, complaining about the patriarch, and having conversations about everything and nothing at the same time.
Perhaps you’ve had a little too much caffeine and not enough actual food because by now, you’re a little too jittery to hold a stylus. But to your surprise, you manage to find the willpower to sketch, outline, and color some full body portraits for your assignment 一 your favorite being the model wearing the oversized colorblock flannel with three different types of plaid prints stitched together like a quilt.
Lately, you’ve fallen out of love with the world of art. None of your pieces seems to satisfy you despite spending hours upon hours creating something subpar according to your standards.
Some people might call it an artist's block, or maybe even a burnout, but you can earnestly attribute it to the jaded art projects that your professors require of you. There’s not a single ounce of joy sparked from your assignments because the prompts are anything but awe-inspiring. 
But today, you don’t even second guess yourself.
Sometimes, inspiration strikes when you least expect it to. You might find it in the least obvious places and in the most mundane details. It lurks beneath the surface, hiding in things never before seen. 
And other times... inspiration is staring at you right in the face with soft, chocolate eyes and pouty lips.
The pristine white pages of your files no longer mock you, completely covered in color that you would never imagine. You can’t say for sure you know why there’s a surge of motivation, allowing you to create so many drafts of different outfit options. There’s a variety of textures and silhouettes across the screen, but what can you say? You’re feeling pretty inspired.
“Okay, next question,” you announce, taking a sip from your second cup of iced coffee.
“Hold on, we’re supposed to know more about each other, soI don’t think it’s fair that you’re the one asking all the questions.” Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together, lined with something between curiosity and amusement. “The design is supposed to showcase our personalities, right? There are things that I want to know about you too.” 
“Yeah, and what’s that?” You shrug, continuing to add details to your figure, smudging a faint beauty mark on the left side of the model’s button nose. You dot another one on his cheek, right above the smile line for good measure.
“What’s your story?”
“My story?” Your tone is filled with satire as you look up at him from across the table, quirking a brow. “Yoongi, we’re not in some poorly written teenage rom-com.”
The corner of his lips curve up, liking the way that his name rolls off the tip of your tongue.
“I’m just a little curious about your life story. I feel like I know you but I don’t really know you. Like, tell me about your upbringing or something. How’d you end up in New York?” He clarifies. 
There’s a lump in your throat that’s hard to swallow. “Where do I even begin?” You wonder out loud. “Well... uh, I grew up in a small town where everyone pretty much knows everyone, and if you don’t, you probably know their first, second, and their third cousin.” 
You smile fondly at the memory.
“Uhm, growing up was... alright? Honestly, I’ve been trying to repress the memories of my past, so bare with me,” you chuckle. “I mean, there were good days, and there were bad days. I felt pretty lonely, but I think that was mostly my fault since I don't trust easily, and I’m kind of a cynic, if you haven’t noticed.” A giggle falls from your lips. “And family is family, right? You can’t really pick and choose your mom or dad or some of your annoying aunties. I’m sure life could have been a lot worse, but I honestly hated every single moment.”
“Why’s that?” He asks as if there’s a simple answer. 
“I guess… I felt trapped?” You tilt your head, not quite satisfied with your response. “Well, I think suffocated is the word I’m looking for.” 
As you relay the memories of your past, your body searches for some kind of distraction, eyes locked on the drawing before you, hands remaining busy, outlining the figure in your drafts. You erase the lower lip on the model, re-drawing it because they aren’t pouty enough for your liking. 
“I had no idea if there was something out there for me, but I just knew I couldn’t stay in my town forever otherwise I’d be studying biology or something. Like, can you imagine? Me? A biologist? I don’t even think I’m capable of studying anymore!” The grin on your face and the gleam in your eyes are in agreement that you’d never make it past freshman year as a bio major.
“You’re never gonna learn if you don’t allow yourself to fall.” He uses your own words against you, and you find his oddly specific memory of your advice to be on the borderline of offensive and endearing.
“Yoongi, If you think that I’m ever going to take my own advice, then you are wildly mistaken,” you snicker. “Anyways, this probably sounds so cliché, so don’t make fun of me, but… I think that New York was calling my name.”
“Do you like it here?” He asks, not even hesitating. 
“I love it.” The smile on your face is larger than life, and your cheeks actually hurt from joy. 
By no means would you call yourself an optimist, all-too-familiar with the shortcomings of life and the human population (but that’s a totally different story). Yet there’s just something in the New York air that makes you believe in yourself in spite of the great expectations and big disappointments. “I’m not even kidding when I say this, but this city loves me more than any person ever could,” you say. 
“Not even yourself?” 
Your head shakes and your eyes soften. “Not even myself.”
“What do you mean by that?” He tilts his head to the side, confounded by your statement.
“Well, first of all, I did a lot of growing up here. I learned how to be on my own, and… whenever I was going through something, the city was just always there for me. When I’m at my happiest, I’m singing and dancing around my room at 6 in the morning or maybe I’m scarfing down a cup of Indomie.” Your cheeks begin to hurt as you reminisce over the memories of your college days. “The sun is rising, the birds are chirping, and those scary pigeons are probably sitting on my window, watching me make a fool out of myself! But it just feels like the city is celebrating with me, you know?” 
“Mmm, I know.” Yoongi drawls, allowing you to continue your train of thought. 
“When I’m sad, I’m probably crying my eyes out or whatever, no big deal right? But then I look out my window, and the lights from the cityscape are all blurry from the tears in my eyes.” You even laugh at your own pain, finding amusement in your lowest of lows. “Everything starts blending together, and they kind of look like stars... Idunno, it’s kind of comforting to me,” your shoulders shrug. “Besides, I’ve probably had so many breakdowns walking home. Half my dignity is gone, and I think my tears are a permanent part of the city.”
“Were you alone during all those times?” There’s a certain softness to Yoongi’s voice that you can never get over.
“More or less, I think? I don’t really cry in front of others.” Your head lowers, fixating your attention on the stylus in your hand. 
Yoongi watches the wistful smile that you once wore wrinkle into a pensive one. 
The lump in his throat is hard to swallow.
“You know that it’s okay to cry, but you shouldn’t cry alone,” he offers. His hands fold over one other, resting in his lap.
The rain patters down the storefront window, and you watch the droplets race down the glass. A smirk plays on your lips, “Thanks, but sadness and I are well acquainted with one another. She keeps me humble, you know? Sometimes, I need to wipe the tears away and pretend that everything’s okay,” you shrug passively. “It’s called living in a state of denial, you should try it sometimes.”
Your gaze briefly meets with Yoongi’s sad eyes. “It sounds like if you can pick yourself up, then maybe you do love yourself as much as the city does, no?”
His question makes you think, and you don’t particularly like that there’s some truth to it.
You manage to gulp down the lump, but it leaves your throat feeling raw.
“Yeah, maybe…” 
A moment of silence passes as you try to swallow your past away alongside a spoonful of cake. “ANYWAYS, enough about my sob story,” you scramble in a desperate attempt to change the subject. It’s like you’ve combated against your three brain cells and 18+ years of emotional repression to talk about something as gross as f*elings. “How did you end up in New York, huh?”
Yoongi rubs the nape of his neck, mulling over the question before his lips curl skyward. “Like you said, you can’t pick and choose your mom and dad, right?”
“Yeah, and your annoying aunties.” You nod, all too aware of your philosophy. 
“Well, there’s not really much to the story,” he shrugs. “I didn’t have a lot of money growing up, so I took on a bunch of part time jobs. I delivered newspapers, I waited on tables, I washed cars, I mowed lawns, I did basically anything and everything ー you name it.” 
He fiddles with the ballpoint pen in hand, tracing circles over his yellow memo pad. Your heavy heart pangs against your chest, and it’s almost as if the pattering rain serves as background music.
“I didn’t really care for school either. I showed up and did the bare minimum.” A chuckle escapes him, a gummy smile stretching across his face, “I kinda just wanted to play music and shoot some ball to be honest.” 
Yoongi glances out the window with a hint of nostalgia, and you put your stylus down, giving him your undivided attention. You look up at him. Really look at him as if you’re seeing him for the first time.
“Would you think I’m crazy if I told you I don’t actually know how I ended up here?” He muses, but you only shake your head no.
“Obviously my grades weren’t that good, and my portfolio was half-assed. Even now, my grades still suck, but I’m trying my best,” he snickers. “Being here feels kind of unreal… It must have been fate or something. I really just packed my bags and…” His sentence fades out upon the call of his name. 
“Yoongi...”
It sounds like music to his ears. 
“You really need to start believing in yourself more,” you urge. 
“Don’t give advice that you can’t follow,” he furrows his brow, and you roll your eyes. 
“Look, I’m trying to be serious,” you continue. “I, uh... I read this thing for philosophy class one time. It’s a book called ‘A Universe from Nothing,’ andー did you know that every single atom in your body is made from a star that exploded?” 
He shakes his head, purring. “Mmm, no, I didn’t know that.”
“So… all the elements on the periodic table ー hydrogen, oxygen, carbon… ー whatever it is that makes up your body didn’t exist at the beginning of time, right?”
“... You know, I’m more of a liberal arts person, myself,” he banters, sarcasm heavy in his tone. 
This man never lets you live, huh.
“Basically, what I’m trying to say is that the stars died so that you could be here today. It wasn’t some kind of accident, it wasn’t fate, and fuck destiny because she’s kind of a bitch.”
A laugh rumbles from his chest, and the corners of his eyes crease upon the stretch of his gummy smile. “Maybe you’re onto something,” he ponders. 
The sound of rain fills the empty space between you, and even under the dim lights of this dingy cafe, when his eyes meet yours, you swear that they were once made out of stardust from the depths of the Milky Way.
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You know for a fact that you have a countless number of flaws that you play off as strengths for the sake of your pride. The one that you boast the most is your inability to communicate. 
There are exactly 1,107 unread emails in your inbox and 522 ignored text messages on your phone. Your settings are either on ‘do not disturb’ or airplane mode, just because you need the excuse to dodge your mother’s phone calls at any given time. 
But Yoongi texts you the next day with a link. It’s a YouTube video of a chunky cat learning to shake paws. And on the next day, he sends you an article about this new coffee spot in Chinatown. He also asks about your opinion on artichoke pizza and what color dress you plan to wear to Vante’s opening Q&A.
It’s an innocent question that you don’t think much about until you meet him at the front entrance of the Whitney, wearing a silk tie in your favorite shade of lavender.
You don’t even bother to mention it, but the simper on your lips is impossible to hide.
As a matter of fact, throughout the night, as you peruse through the exhibition, you can’t help but feel as if you’re walking on air. You get to hear your favorite artist speak in the flesh, and you get an exclusive sneak peak viewing of his newest works.
On the other hand, Yoongi doesn’t really see the appeal of this high society event. It feels a little ostentatious for his liking. And even in this room full of impassioned art, nothing seems to inspire him as much as the sparkle of happiness in your eyes.
But the thing that really electrifies you isn’t the art itself. It isn’t the pretty brush strokes across the canvas, nor is it the resin and glittered sculptures. It’s the fact that you get to ransack the endless buffet table occupied by fancy hors d’oeuvres 一 avocado bruschetta, baked crab rangoons, and stuffed portobello mushrooms. You can’t even pronounce half the food items, but the daiquiri in your system offers enough liquid courage to fake your confidence.
“Are you sure you can handle this much alcohol?” Yoongi chuckles, tossing your arm around his shoulder. You lean your weight against his as you step out of the museum and into the breezy night.
“Of course I’m sure! I thought you trusted me?” There’s a hint of alcohol laced in your breath, and oddly enough, you’re even more annoying when you’re drunk. But on the bright side, Yoongi finds it kind of endearing. 
“I do trust you,” he says, wrapping his arm around your waist to support your weight. 
You can’t help but giggle. Your heart feels full. 
A shiver runs down your spine, and his fingers wrap tighter around your side. “You cold?” 
You nod your head and nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. 
Your breath tickles his collar bones, and he’s overly aware of your close proximity. He would think that you’d notice too and pull away, but you never do, certainly a side effect of intoxication.
Not long after, Yoongi hobbles over to pack you into the back seat of the Uber, making sure that you don’t bump your head against the roof of the car. When he slides into the seat beside you, your first instinct is to splay across the leather, placing your head onto his lap.
“Mmm, warm,” you mumble. 
Yoongi’s not sure where to place his hands, but a smile graces your lips when he cards his fingers through your hair. 
“Yoongi?” 
He hums in response to let you know he’s listening.
“I really love the weather in New York,” you confess. There’s no sane person who would ever admit that because quite frankly, the weather here sucks.
He cocks his head to the side, confused. “But aren’t you cold?” Yoongi stops stroking your hair when your hands find their way into his. 
“Yeah, but you keep me warm.” 
His cheeks grow hot at the sound of your words and the interlacing of your fingers. He only hopes that you can’t see the blush on his face.
The car ride back to Yoongi’s place is filled with your incessant ramblings. You make random comments about his mint hair and how he belongs in some kind of anime. You also talk about his round cheeks as if they’re shaped like dumplings. It’s sort of flattering, actually. That is until you try to nip at his chin like it's made of dough. 
Your act is almost childish, and it’s proven to be true when you climb out of the car on Yoongi’s back. Perhaps you’ve sobered up a tiny bit, but there’s absolutely no way you’re able to reach his three story walk-up apartment all on your own. 
“Thank you, Yoongi,” you mutter, voice muffled against his shoulder blade.
But he doesn’t respond, too busy juggling your weight on his back as he digs for his keys. 
“Yooooongiiiii,” you whine. 
He manages to get into his unit, gliding through the hallway, careful to not wake Hoseok up as he pads through the creaky, wooden floorboards.
“Hmm?” He queries, sitting you upright at the head of his bed. 
“I’m sorry I forgot my address,” you pout, pulling on his bed sheets. Who would have known that you’d be an even bigger mess when you’re drunk? Well, you did, actually, but you seem to love making poor decisions.
“It’s fine,” he reassures simply. “I feel better knowing that you’re safe here instead of sending you off in some random Uber.”
You nod, shifting down the bed to sprawl across the mattress. “You’re so nice, Yoongi,” you mumble against his pillows, completely exhausted from the event.
Your eyelids flutter close, and you can hear Yoongi quietly make his way out the room. Shortly after, he returns with a glass of water in one hand and a wicker basket in the other. From there, he pulls out a cotton pad and some micellar water, dabbing it across your face to remove your base makeup. He reaches for a second cotton pad to gently remove your eyeshadow. 
There are a bunch of labels on the other products, and Yoongi reads through them carefully. But now he wishes he took more notes when Hobi was explaining all this skincare stuff. He recalls something about toner and serum, but he leaves it at that because all the other boujee bottles are written in a foreign language.
Yoongi catches you twitching your nose, and he’s certain that you’re feeling a little cold, especially with the dress that you have on. “Do you wanna change?” He asks. 
You manage to nod your head yes, and Yoongi digs through his dresser to find something suitable. 
“Uhm… Here you go,” he offers, placing the garments at the edge of the bed. He turns around to seek refuge in his living room, but the call of his name sends him right back. 
“Yoongi?”
His heart thumps. “Yeah?”
“Can you help me unzip the back of my dress?” You ask, throwing your hair over your shoulder. 
His heart is racing at this point, and his voice is as shaky as his hands when he mutters an “okay.” 
The dress falls loose, and he’s quick to turn around to give you some privacy, even placing his hands over his eyes for good measure.
“Mmm done,” you proudly announce as if it’s your biggest accomplishment of the night. 
Yoongi looks back at you, and he has to admit that his clothing suits you much better than it does him. The sleeves of his FILA sweatshirt fall past your fingertips, and his gray sweatpants are extra baggy on your legs.
He smiles to himself. “Uhm, well, I guess... goodnight? If you need it, the bathroom is the second door on the left.” He takes one step out of the bedroom, but he’s startled to hear you interject. 
“Where are you going?” You ask. 
He points toward the beat up sleeper sofa in the living room. “I’ll take the couch.” 
“Wait, I can’t kick you out of your room.” You grab his wrist in your smaller hand, preventing him from walking out the door, pleading. “Stay?”
His eyes shift between you and the comfort of his bed, and although his head is saying no, he can’t deny this weird feeling in his chest. “Uhm… I don’t know about this,” he worries. 
“Yoongi, what’re you so afraid of? Think I might catch feelings?” You tease with the lilt in your voice. 
His chest tightens, and the words are caged behind his teeth. He’s nearly frozen in place, but you take his hand in yours. You tug on his arm, although he’s unwilling to tempt his fate.
Lying down, you wrap your arm around his torso, holding him flush against your body like a teddy bear. Your face presses against his chest, and it’s almost certain that you’re much too drunk for this type of physical affection. The intimacy in your words alone just don’t seem to add up. 
You mutter something against his shirt that is nearly inaudible to anyone else, but Yoongi hears it loud and clear. The question causes his heart to beat like a drum, and he can only pray that you don’t hear it pounding against the shell of your ear.
“... But what if I already caught feelings?” You mutter. 
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It’s safe to say that Yoongi doesn’t catch a single wink of sleep tonight. 
It’s impossible knowing that you’ve confessed your feelings and laid your heart out on the line, but every thought that races through Yoongi’s mind is trying to convince him that it was purely an accident. Just one big drunken mistake because there’s no way that you’ve caught feelings, right? 
That’s not to say you’re incapable of emotions, and Yoongi knows that all too well. The unbelievable part is that the feelings are mutual.
His thoughts have kept him awake all night, and he honestly planned to sneak into the living room once you’ve fallen asleep. But your ironclad grip is much too strong, and how could he leave knowing that you’re sleeping so soundly right beside him? 
The golden sunlight is starting to filter through his apartment windows, laying a gentle glow upon your features. The beauty marks on your face are all the more prominent, and Yoongi has spent the better part of the night mapping them out like constellations, committing it to his memory.
Your nose twitches, and before you realize it, your eyes are fluttering open to the pretty sight before you. 
“Hi,” he whispers in a low voice, careful not to startle you.
You blink a few times, trying to figure out if this is reality, and indeed it is. 
“Hey.” Your voice is just as faint as his, raw and groggy.
You’re a little confused as to how you ended up here, but fragments of your memory are slowly piecing together in your head.
“Did I do anything stupid last night?” You decide to bite the bullet and ask. 
“Mmm, let me think,” he tantalizes. “I think you stole the spinach dip from the buffet table and stuffed it in your purse.” 
“That doesn’t sound too bad,” you shrug, but your nerves start to act up, wondering if there’s more to the story. 
“You also texted Jeongguk telling him you love him.” Yoongi’s nose crinkles in the same way that yours does. 
You shake your head, unbelieving, “Nah, I know you’re making that up. I would never use the L word.”
“Yeah I know, and that’s why you spelled it like L-U-V.” 
“Ohhh, that makes more sense,” you nod. 
“Are you sure? Because you also told me that you have feelings for me, but how true could that be if you’re confessing your L-U-V to Jeongguk?”
Your jaw drops open, and you’re mortified to say the least. “Wait, what?” You stutter. If you weren’t awake before, you most definitely are now. 
Yoongi retells the story and gulps down his spit because this time, he’s certain that you’ll pull away. “You told me to share the bed with you, then you asked me if I was afraid you’d catch feelings for me. Right before you knocked out cold, you told me that you already have.” 
You don’t even budge, frozen in place. Your eyes widen, though your arm is still slung over his waist where you last left it.
“Iー I don’t recall that happening?” You stutter, utterly embarrassed. 
“But I do.”
You look into his starlit eyes to see if there’s any shadow of doubt, although there is nothing but sincerity and adoration in his longing gaze. 
“Are you gonna take it back?” He asks, referring to your confession. It’s almost like he expects you to revoke your feelings right then and there, but it’s much harder than one could imagine. 
You stumble over your words, staring blankly into his pretty eyes, although you freeze up trying to decide between fight or flight. “Uhm…”
Yoongi has always been the type to hate the open waters, but this time, he doesn’t even bat an eyelash, staring into the wind swept waves of your eyes. He takes the leap into the deep end fully knowing it means falling in L-O-V-E.
“And what if I told you that I feel the same way?”
Your heart races, and your mouth can’t seem to form the words your thoughts are screaming in your head.
You’ve never really had a way with words, always uttering something stupid when your words fail you. And sometimes, you act upon impulse because it’s easier than having to explain yourself.
“Iー uh,” you shake your head, hating the direction of your poor choice of words. “You make me...” You close your eyes, overwhelmed with f*elings, but not in a particularly bad way that you’ve come to know. 
Before you even realize it, you’re doing that thing again 一 the thing where you act on stupid impulses. One second, Yoongi’s gnawing on his chapped lips, and the next, your mouth is slotted between his in a fervent kiss. 
You would think that you’d know all there is to know about Yoongi’s cherry lips after spending so much time with him. You’ve observed his little quirks and habits like the way he speaks in pout, and you’ve even sketched his facial features for hours on end, ingraining the curve of his cupid's bow in your memory. But until this very moment, you could never imagine how warm they’d be pressed against your own.
The heat doesn’t just spill from his lips, nor is it from the way that the palm of his hands rest against the side of your waist. Rather, you’re overcome with a wave of warmth. You feel hot all over, and it’s like that ember in your heart has finally ignited, fueled by some kind of passion from within. 
You pull on the collar of his shirt until there’s no more space between the two of you. Yoongi hovers over your body with legs intertwined, not even daring to part ways for a single second, enamored by the way you arch into him, molding your body to be flush against his.
His tongue traces over your bottom lip, almost like he’s asking for permission, and you comply without any hesitation. With the pad of his thumb, he rubs soothing circles over your exposed hip bone, shirt riding up to reveal a sliver of skin. 
Yoongi’s mouth moves languidly against yours, slow and steady as though he has all the time in the world with you. But you can feel the slick between your thighs, soaking straight through your panties. 
“Is this okaー” Yoongi asks. 
It’s cute how respect will always come first and foremost to him, but you’re quick to shut him up with the press of your lips. Your hand wraps around his wrist, leading them to the hem of your sweats, gliding his fingers under the material to cusp around your core. 
Yoongi gets the hint ー this is definitely more than okay. He dips his fingers under the band of your panties, gathering your arousal as he glides up and down your slit.
“Mmm, you’re wet already?” He teases, and you hide your face against the crook of his neck, embarrassed by the effect he has on you.
He prods a finger at your entrance, enraptured by the way you fall prey to his ministrations without fail.
“You always have something smart to say, but now what? You’re too shy?” He quirks a brow, teasing as he slips another finger into your tight hole.
His palm presses against your clit, adding pressure onto the sensitive nub, and you arch your back into his touch, begging for more. As you heat up beneath his fiery gaze, you begin to tug at the hem of your sweatshirt, shrugging it off and tossing it off the side of the bed. Your hands reach up to pinch at your perky nipples, and the tent in Yoongi’s pants grow larger at the sight of your bare chest. 
“Have you always been this needy for me?” He asks. “What do you think about when you see me in class? Huh? Do you imagine how my fingers feel when you’re pretending to not give me the time of day?” 
A whimper falls from your lips, and Yoongi picks up the pace as you clench around his fingers, completely soaked in your arousal.
“Do you imagine what my lips taste like? How they’d feel against your skin?” He latches his mouth around your nipple, sucking on the bud until the perimeter is discolored. The sounds that escape between his teeth are as lewd as the squelch from your sopping cunt.
It’s not long before Yoongi gets restless, needing to see more 一 needing to feel more. He tugs on your sweatpants, and your underwear follows in tow as you finally lay bare beneath him, glowing under the morning sunlight. Yoongi is quick to shrug off the white button down shirt that he’s failed to change out of last night. 
He’s utterly magnetized to you, his lips always finding its way back to your supple skin. He litters kisses between the valley of your breasts, down to your stomach, and on top of your mound. Shuddering under his touch, you grip at the cotton sheets to anchor yourself as he devours you without any mercy, replacing his fingers with his hot tongue.
Your hands find purchase in his hair, tugging on the strands of mint, pushing it back so that you can admire him in all his glory. He wraps his hands around your thighs, spreading your legs further apart to give himself more space to work with. His tongue delves between your velvety walls, and you whine under his touch.
Your hips cant upward, thighs squeezing shut, but his hands wrap firmly around your thighs, pushing your weight down to the mattress, preventing you from wriggling out of his reach.
Yoongi laps at your folds, licking stripes between your slit before circling his tongue around your clit, changing the pace. His chin is doused in your sweet arousal, but he welcomes it wholeheartedly.
His caress eventually slows down to tiny kitten licks, mocking you because he knows you’re close to your release. When he stops, you whine, begging for him to continue until you’re over the edge. 
“Yoongiiiii,” you cry, clenching your fingers around his sheets. 
He tugs off his sweats before reaching over to grab a condom from his nightstand, yet he can’t help but grin as you watch him with drool dripping down your chin. The smugness is written all over his face as he pumps his length, fully knowing that he’s well endowed. 
Yoongi leans down to plant a kiss on your forehead before laying one on your pouting lips. He holds your body close to his, guiding his length to your core, tracing the head over your clit before guiding his throbbing cock into your wet cunt.
A mewl escapes from your parted lips, aching with every inch that glides through your tight walls. 
“Oh, fuck,” Yoongi groans against your skin, breath hitching, eyes darkening as he watches himself disappear into you.
Intertwining your fingers with his, he ruts his hips against yours in a languid pace, loving the squelch of your juices with every pump. Your eyes nearly fall closed, but you will yourself to keep them open just so you won’t miss seeing a single second of Yoongi’s moan falling from his cherry red lips.
The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping on skin and the faint voice of Yoongi’s hushed words. “You look so pretty, baby,” he coos, whispering against the column of your neck. “Is this what you pictured in your pretty little head? How it’d feel like to fuck me?” His lips suckle on your skin, right where you can feel your heartbeat, and you swear your brain is short circuiting at his vulgarity. 
“Baby, you need to speak up.” His voice is low and deep, laced with lust and carnal desires. He looks and sounds like a dream, but it feels all the more real when he pinches your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look up at him.
“You’re mean,” you bite back, rolling your eyes. 
“Ah, silly baby, you don’t even know how mean I could be,” he playfully warns you with a smirk, too pleased with himself. “Are you gonna answer me back?” He takes both of your wrists in his hand, pinning it above your head, unable to touch him in the way you so desperately wish you could. 
One particularly hard thrust has you whimpering his name, clenching tighter around his dick, writhing under his touch. 
“Open,” he commands, tapping on your lower lip. His fingers sit heavy on your tongue as you wrap around them, sucking on his digits like the good girl he knows you are. Yoongi’s pace doesn’t even falter as he rolls his hips, grinding against your clit for some much needed relief. 
You’re this close to reaching your high, walls fluttering around his cock. Your legs start to shake and your vision begins to blur, feeling the knot in your stomach begin to unravel as you approach your long awaited release. You cry out a string of garbled words, unable to form your thoughts coherently, too focused on how full you feel, stuffed balls deep with Yoongi’s cock 
“Are you close, baby?” His voice is gentle, but the drive of his hips is anything but. He pulls his saliva slicked fingers out of your mouth, allowing you to respond, though he’s not certain that you’d be able to speak your mind, drowning your thoughts on the need to come. 
“Yes, yes, yes, I’m so close, please let me come,” you cry, tears forming at the corner of your eyes. 
He’s completely in love with the way you’re losing your mind, speechless for anything besides his dick. Yoongi works himself faster, pushing deeper until you fall apart. In the meantime, he’s losing himself, rhythm faltering as he picks up the pace. It’s quick and sloppy, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, desperately seeking your climax. 
It hits all at once, the waves of pleasure coursing through you as you shudder under his weight. Your eyes finally fall closed, overcome with an overwhelming sensation, like trails of fire prickling across your skin. Yoongi collapses on top of you, releasing himself into the latex, emptying his balls as he throbs in the warmth of your pussy. 
Your hot breaths mingle together when he presses a soft kiss over your lips, huffing and puffing through the energy you’ve exerted. He envelops you in his arms, gliding his calloused fingers across your arm, peppering kisses across your skin while your legs lay intertwined together. 
“Well, now what?” You ask, cutting through the quiet air. 
Yoongi giggles at your response, flashing that gummy smile you love so much. 
“Well... “ He unravels from you, stepping off the bed to finally dispose of the condom. Stepping towards his wardrobe in the corner of the room, he pulls out one of his clean shirts for you to wear. He returns with an oversized flannel, a colorblocked pattern with three types of plaid stitched together. It looks exactly like the one you designed for the project the week prior, but unbeknownst to you, he’s already sewed it together. 
“I could make you breakfast, and we could have some fun after?” He continues, insinuating yet another round.
He tugs on your arm, getting you to sit up on the mattress so that he can dress you in the shirt that he’s made. He buttons the front for you, concentrating on sliding each individual one into its slot. 
There’s another cloth of the same material that sits at the edge of the bed, right beside Yoongi. He picks it up and slides his arms through the material, shrugging it onto his shoulders.
He’s made the exact same shirt, a replica for you and him to match. 
Yoongi doesn’t even seem to notice the smile that spreads across your face until he looks up at you, pecking his lips against yours.
Perhaps you’ll have to reconsider being a morning person because the world seems a little less grim and a little more rosy when you wake up with Yoongi at your side.
2K notes · View notes
kingsuckjin · 10 months ago
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Ungodly Beast 2
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⸸ Pairing: Devil! Jungkook x reader, Priest! Namjoon x reader
⸸ Rated: M (18+)
⸸ Genre: smut, horror, fluff?, angst?
⸸ Synopsis: You’d rather go to hell yourself than let the devil take your baby, even if he helped create him… even if your little boy is beginning to sprout horns.
⸸ Warnings: (may contain spoilers) death, kidnapping, kind of depression and some heavy feels, satanic symbolism, voyeurism, blowjob, fingering, unprotected sex (please wrap your ding dong before playing ping pong), more sinful shit, male masturbation, dom-ish reader, strangulation (like also not in a sexy way), dom! Jungkook, spit kink, the most dirty talk you've ever seen, fisting, fingering, dick size kink, daddy kink, degradation, impreg kink, pain kink, devil kook still looks wild, spanking, branding, choking, hair pulling, biting and scratching, blood play/blood eating, tattoo kink, really rough sex, a very jealous Jungkook, more death/murder, a very brief mention of drugs, fluffy sex, gore, a fight scene, it's just graphic and awful.
⸸ Words: 15k
⸸ Note: I’d link the first part in this fic here, but tumblr has been doing this cute little thing where if you insert a link in something then the fic won’t show up in the tags. So I very sincerely apologize for the inconvenience, but you’ll have to go through my masterlist to find part 1. Also, an anon told me that this fic goes really well with the album Too Weird to Live too Rare to die by panic at the disco, specifically the song Far too young to die, so if you're looking for something to listen too while reading this, then that would be perfect.
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"What have you done?"
Those were your mother's first words after telling her you were pregnant. You had no idea how she knew, perhaps it was the worried, troubled, tired look on your face that that told her. Maybe she just sensed it, sensed the seed of half evil already taken root and growing inside of you.
You stayed silent, confirming an unspoken conclusion between you. She clutched at the rosary around her neck as her shocked, open mouth quivered and glossy tears pooled in her eyes.
"You didn't…" She whispered, "please tell me you didn't." 
Out of shame, you still didn't speak.
"How did you know?" You finally decided to ask.
"I've dealt with him before, I know the way his terrible presence feels, and now I feel it with you. I almost can't stand it." Her words both stung and made you have an unsettling feeling that crawled up your spine. Was it simply the baby she had felt? Had he marked you somehow and now it was you making her feel like this? Or was he with you? Silently watching and waiting.
"What did you give for the child?" Your mother was nearly in sobs now.
"He didn't tell me at first-" you began to try to defend yourself but your mother cut you off.
"He never does. What was it?" 
"He's taking him…" you felt the prick of tears sting your eyes now too. You had to cover your mouth quite suddenly to keep a sob from escaping. It hurt to think about, to talk about. You were afraid. "...when he turns five."
She took your hands between hers and looked you in the eyes.
"We will do everything we can, I promise. We will fight."
You nodded and attempted to blink away the tears.
"Pray with me. We can pray. God will help us, I know it." 
You nodded again as she gripped your hands firmly in hers reassuringly. She let her head fall slightly and closed her eyes prompting you to do the same.
As she started with her prayer, you began to feel a ringing in your head, the sound grew and grew until it was piercing, drowning out her words. A tsunami of nausea overtook your body so powerful you jumped up from your seat at your mother's kitchen table, knocking the chair back as you ran for the bathroom in a dizzy haze.
"Ah, they should call it all day sickness instead of morning sickness." Your mom had committed, seeming to brush it off, but you knew in your heart and deep in your soul that something was very, very wrong here.
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From the moment you first saw him, you were in love. His big doe eyes, his chubby little cheeks, his soft little hands, and feet. Although he had no horns or black eyes, you tried hard not to see his father in him, which was difficult sometimes.
The worst memories for you were taking him to get baptized as a newborn. He had screamed from the moment you had entered the church and nothing you could do would calm him.
The moment the blessed holy water touched his skin, you watched as it seemed to burn and blister his infant skin in just seconds. You went out to your car in the church parking lot, 
calmed him the best you could before strapping him into his car seat, and you cried.
You cried because while he seemed to be a normal little baby, your son, the baby you feed with your own body, sing to, bathe, and love, you were occasionally reminded of what he was and that you might only have him for a very short time.
He still whimpered in the back seat just as you did in the front. Guilt and sadness and fear prompted you to get out of the car and into the back seat where you unfastened him as his pout only worsted your feelings. You took his small body in your arms and held him to your chest. Your nose snuggled into his mess of fluffy dark hair.
"I love you. No ones ever going to take you away from me. I don't care what you are, you're my son more than anything." You let your tears fall onto his head.
That wasn't the scariest thing you had been through though. The worst was the nightmares.
The first was just under a month after he had been born. You had sat up in your bed covered in sweat, the house felt like an oven. Your heart was beating hard even before you had heard it coming through the baby monitor.
Singing.
It sounded high and angelic along with the happy coos of your son. As your groggy mess faded with the race of your heart you also realized it was in a language you not just couldn't understand, but had never heard anything like it before.
It took no time at all for you to practically leap from your bed, and dash from your room and down the hall to your son's room.
As you pushed his door open you saw him. You felt like your heart was beating in your throat now as you saw him with his back to you holding your son, bathed in only the moonlight that the sheer curtains of the nursery let in.
The singing had turned to a soft hum. You realized how wrong you were upon pinning his voice like an angel. You saw the horns sprouting from his wavy hair that dangled as he looked down at the baby in his arms.
You wanted to scream, you wanted to fight, you wanted to do anything to save your baby and keep him from being taken away from you. He was a newborn, it wasn't even time.
You couldn't do anything though, and you didn't know why.
Horrifyingly you found yourself yet again drawn to him, in awe at his presence.
"You can't…" you managed to choke out.
"I will." He didn't turn as he spoke to you. After he spoke, you woke up.
You couldn't sleep very long for months after that nightmare. 
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There was no denying by age two and a half that he looked more like his father. There was also no denying the little bumps you found while brushing his shaggy hair that sat on the top of his head under his skin. Most mothers would be concerned, wonder if their child had gotten hurt, and bumped their head a few times. But you just sat there frozen, feeling the bumps. You knew what they were, they were his father's claim to him, they were forming horns.
"Mommy okay?" Your son noticed your strange and oddly still demeanor as the hairbrush dropped from your hands onto the bathroom tile where you sat. 
That's when it hit you the hardest. Your baby was halfway there. Halfway gone. All you had done so far was helplessly try to deny the fact that he was coming for him. He would take your little boy and drag him to hell if you didn't do something to fight this, find some way, something, someone to help you.
"Mommy?" your son had turned around and was now reaching for your cheeks to smush with his hands like you often did him. His face read of concern and question. Your heart melted at his little gesture. You took in his sweet little face again, his little two front teeth poked out just a little. You couldn't help but squish his face gently right back.
"Mommy's okay." You tried to reassure him the best you could, and it seemed to work. Lucky for you toddlers were sweetly gullible.
The moment you got free time you sent a text to your mom telling her you'd be dropping her grandson off at her house tomorrow, you didn't wait for a reply as you already knew she would jump at any chance to see her grandson whenever she could.
You then made a very important series of phone calls.
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"Thank you, thank you so much for meeting with me today on such short notice father-" 
"Father Namjoon or just Namjoon is fine." He interrupted. "And don't mention it, I'm here to help. You mentioned problems with your child?"
You took a deep breath and let your face finally show the worry you felt, your bouncing foot on the floor let out your anxiety. You sat there in his office at this tiny church. Worried he would throw you out the moment you told him the truth about what was going on.
Father Namjoon sat across the big worn wooden desk from you and waited patiently for you to further explain. Behind him on the wall was a massive cross along with pictures with him and maybe members of the church pinned to the wall.
" I'm afraid I didn't tell you everything over the phone because… well, every priest I've called said I was crazy and hung up on me after I told them." You admitted and watched as his body language changed with his growing attention.
"But father Namjoon, I swear on my son's life that what I'm about to tell you is the truth. My son is no trouble, but his father is. See, I would've brought my son in today, but he gets these… headaches and nosebleeds in churches." 
You watched his reaction carefully, he curiously tilted his head.
"Go on…" he urged.
"Because his father… is… the devil."
Namjoon gave you a nod of understanding that was far too casual for the words you said.
"I have proof." You defended before he could even think to refute your claim.
"I believe you." 
"What?" You asked thinking maybe you were only hearing what you wanted to.
"Listen," he leaned forward so that his arms rested on his desk. "He's real. I know he's real. The nervousness in your voice and you say you have proof… you seem perfectly sane to me. When can I meet with your son? Would your home be alright?"
"What are you doing right now? He's with my mother right now."
"Let's go." He said with sureness and no thinking time behind it.
He followed your car to your mother's home. You watched as he got out of his car and just stood there in the driveway, staring at the home.
"Something wrong father?" You asked as he brought forth the cross around his neck and clutched it tightly.
"I can feel him."
"My son? My mom says the same thing about him. We just assume he carries the same feeling as-"
"Not your son, the devil. He's here." 
Your heart began to race at the thought of encountering him again. Maybe you had gotten in over your head by asking a priest to see him, but you had to do something.
"Your cross." You stopped father Namjoon as he started to walk towards the door. "I'm sorry but you can't have it near him. My mother had to take down all of hers when he was born." 
His eyes seemed to shift around nervously before finally taking off his cross and putting it in his car.
"No worries." He gave you a reassuring smile. 
You expected more upon entering the house, not just for your son to casually be sitting there watching tv.
You and your mother had exchanged silent, nervous glances upon her letting you in and seeing the priest.
"Hey buddy, someone wants to talk to you." You knelt down and told your son but he seemed to ignore you.
Your mom turned off the tv, but it didn't seem to affect him.
"Touch his head." You whispered to Namjoon.
He stepped forward and crouched on the floor.
"Hey, little guy! What kind of show were you watching?" He placed his hand on your son's head to pat it but quickly retracted it.
"Don't touch me." your son spoke clearly and firmly. His speech was nothing like his normal, broken toddler way of talking.
You looked at Namjoon who still looked shocked by something, it had to be the growing horns.
"Daddy said don't touch me." Your son spoke again perfectly as if he were a few years older.
Daddy said
"Oh my go-" you couldn't help but let out at his words. Had his father been around this whole time? Just watching him… and you?
"I won't touch you, I promise. Could you turn around for me?"
Your son did as he was asked and faced the priest, looking up at him with wide, almost terrified eyes.
“Can I show him your back?” you asked knowing he would let you touch him before he would a priest. Your son nodded but seemed confused. 
You lifted the side of his shirt and showed Namjoon the mark spread along the ribs. The upside-down thick, black cross.
“Quite a birthmark you have there.” Namjoon joked with the boy.
“His father has the same one."
Namjoon stood to his feet which prompted you to do the same.
"Can we talk?" His eyes flickered towards the front door.
"Yeah of course." 
"Possibly off the property?" He added and you gave him a nod.
“I'll be back” you assured your mother as you left with the priest.
He led you to his car before asking if you wanted to get a coffee and told you he needed it after what he had just seen and felt. You understood and agreed.
He continued to apologize on the short drive there, but again you understood his need to process this.
It wasn't until after you both had gotten your drinks and sat down in a quiet corner of the shop that he began to talk openly.
“I’m still not sure what to think of all this, but I know you're not lying. He looks like him. My…” he let out a sigh as he played with a pink packet of sugar. “My grandmother had a run-in with him once, never said why or how, but she described him and the way his presence felt. I just don’t think it's your child making me feel that way. I really need to ask what happened between you and...his...father.”
“I-um..I…” you too took a deep breath and decided to explain everything as detailed as you could from summoning him, to only having a few years left with your son. You felt ashamed as you explained to this priest how you had slept with the devil.
Namjoon didn't seem to judge you though, as a matter of fact, he looked sympathetic. He seemed so sweet, kind, and understanding.
“I’m not sure what I can do here,” he told you and reached across the table to place his hand on yours “but I promise to do the best I can. I will do what I can to help protect your family and son.”
You felt the honesty and sincerity in his words, it felt so comforting to you.
“It’s going to be hard, I can just tell he doesn't want me there. I don't know if it’s because I’m a man or because I’m a priest. Let me ask you a rather personal question, have you dated at all since your son was born?”
“No.” you shook your head “I don’t want anyone getting attached to my son because I just don't know what's going to happen. Also, I’m afraid…he might do something. I just… I don't want to put anyone else into this that doesn't need to be.” that part hurt you too, you just felt so lonely on top of it all. “I've had no one to turn to with all of this except my mother.”
“Well, you have me now, okay? You don't have to feel alone anymore. We can solve this together.”
Namjoon had come up with a plan to meet with your son every other day, and at the end of the week, he would meet with only you and talk over the progress, if he had made any at all.
Just a few months in, there was a difference. It seemed his method of slowly introducing god and holy objects such as crosses were beginning to work, he no longer got headaches and nosebleeds around them, and his horns while still little bumps under his skin, they had stopped growing. That also happened to be the month your mother got very very sick. No matter how many times Namjoon came and prayed over her, she still continued to just slip away until she was gone.
And now you had no one but Namjoon.
The day after she passed away was the hardest. Your son was still too small to fully grasp the concept of death, but he still cried about his grandmother never getting to play with him again.
You had waited until you had put him to bed and he had fallen asleep to pour yourself a glass of wine and just cry.
Nothing could distract you from the pain, from the heavy misery, not even the pouring rain and house shaking thunder.
You had turned off all of the lights, the only thing that would occasionally light the room was the lightning.
You felt so alone, more alone than you've felt in your life. You tried hard to sense him, but he just didn't seem there. The one time you felt so desperate and alone, his presence didn't loom over you. 
“I hate you,” you spoke out loud. “If you can hear me I hate you. I hate that you've done this to me, I hate that you took her from me and your son. Are you really watching over your son or do you just love to see me suffer? Do you love to see me alone? Huh?” anger coursed through you as you talked to the walls “Answer me!” you yelled a little too loudly and worried that you would wake your son up so you decided to be quiet.
The desperation and loneliness felt like it was suffocating you, you had to do something.
You felt pathetic calling him up this late, but once you heard his voice you already felt better.
“Hey, how are you hanging in there?” 
“Not good Namjoon.” you sniffled “I-I just feel so alone, so in over my head. All the things my mom has done for me I just…” you did your best to hold back tears.
“Do you want me there? Is it alright if I come over so you don't have to feel alone?”
“Please?” Your plea was squeaky and weak.
“I’ll leave right now okay? It's just important to remember that you're not alone. God is with you.”
“Thank you. I don't know what I would have done this past few months without you.”
“Please, don't mention it.”
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You don't know how it got here. You had only had a half a glass of wine in total, and a two-hour deep conversation and now you had pulled him into your room and you were ripping off each other’s clothes as if they were tainted.
“Fuck me” you tossed your shirt to the floor and pressed your lips back to his with ferocity. He sharply exhaled through his nose at how turned on he was by your demand, although you could feel it through his underwear. 
“You sure?” he mumbled into your lips. You let out a hum into his before sinking to your knees.
“Fuck.” he muttered, mesmerized as you pulled his underwear, letting it fall at his feet and letting his cock loose.
You let little time pass between the moment you saw his cock and putting it into your mouth. You were hungry for touch, for affection, for sex, for companionship, and you were sure to show that in the form of his dick in your throat. It was as if somehow you hoped it could fill that strange void that had existed in you for far too long.
He thrust in tandem with your head bobbing while letting out groans and sharp breaths of pleasure that just told you that it had been a while for him too. 
Thunder rolled in your dark room as you suppressed a gag and let your spit dribble down your chin. You were dripping with need at just the thought of sex.
As a brief flash of lightning lit the room, you swore you saw him in the chair in the corner of the room, legs crossed, watching you.
Could it have just been your imagination playing tricks on you? Could you have been just thinking about him? Was it what you wanted to see?
You closed your eyes as you took Namjoon deeper into your throat, letting the tip of your nose connect with his thin patch of pubes.
His hands tangled in the back of your hair.
"Can- can we have sex? Please? This feels too good to take this anymore." 
You took him from your mouth and got into the bed on all fours. He took a moment to take your body and pose in for a moment, but once his brain seemed to function again he got behind you on the bed.
His fingers ran down the skin of your back almost making you shiver.
He yanked your underwear down around your thighs and ran his fingers along your soaking folds.
"No teasing, fuck me."
You heard an almost inaudible moan behind you before feeling his tip at your entrance.
The feeling of him slowly sinking into you, filling you, felt so nice after so long.
"Be rough with me."
"O-okay." He stammered and grabbed the back of your hair to pull on as he began slamming into you.
The skin of his thighs slapped at the meat of your ass over and over, but it somehow just wasn't enough.
"Harder, call me names." 
"I won't- I can't call you names." He panted his refusal.
Thank god he was behind you so he couldn't see you rolling your eyes.
"Stop stop, stop." 
His hips quit moving at once.
"Lay on your back." You had had enough and wanted to take this into your own hands.
One he pulled out and played down you straddled his hips, reaching down to guide his cock into your entrance before sinking down on it.
The moment you slowly moved your hips with him buried inside of you he began to moan. You picked up his hands and placed them on your breasts.
"What do you think, father?" Your voice dripped with seduction as you clenched around him.
"You're so- oh god- so beautiful." 
"Wrong answer." You stilled your hips making him scramble for the right words.
"Your pussy is so wet… just for me." 
"All for you." You began to move your hips again with the answer that satisfied you. Possibly to make sure they didn't stop again his hands drifted down to your hips to move them faster on his own. You couldn't help the loud moan that slipped out of your mouth at him taking control just a little.
"You take my dick so well." 
"Fuck fuck." You chanted, moving your hips faster, feeling so close to losing it. You couldn't lie, the thought of him being a priest was really about to get you off right now.
"Such a bad girl." He murmured. Maybe he felt the same.
"Does it feel good being in the same cunt as the devil has been?" You teased.
You swore you heard a very short, unamused chuckle from somewhere in the room. 
"Fuck yes, fuck I'm so close." He aggressively moved your hips now, his fingers digging into your flesh and finally making you cum.
"Up up" 
You got off of him fast and watched ad his hand went around his cock to give it a few short jerks. His thick cum spurted from the tip. Coating his hand and shaft.
"I'll get you something to clean that up with." You climbed off of him as he quickly nodded.
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"Darliiiiing" 
You felt a hand on your thigh that woke you from your sleep.
"Wake up, I need you." Your face contorted in confusion at Namjoon's words.
"Too tired." You muttered into your pillow.
"But I'm so hard for you." His deep voice whispered in your ear sending tingles through your body.
"All I can think about is your wet little cunt of yours. I'll do whatever you want me to darling." His hand ghosted up your back until it came around and reached your neck where he left it
"Mmm." You hummed in satisfaction as you rotted your ass into his once again hard dick.
"You like that? Hm?" His voice was so thick and rough with sleep. "What if I squeezed just a little?" His fingers tightened slightly around your throat.
You were more than ready now for round two, it seemed he had found some courage between when you fucked earlier and now.
"Who does your pussy belong to, darling?" 
"You." You whispered mixed with a moan. You needed him back inside of you so badly that you ached for it.
"You lying whore." His grip on your throat tightened, so much that it became almost impossible to breathe.
You struggled against his grip and tried to pry his hand from your throat.
"Your body and cunt belongs to the devil. Evil courses through your blood." You could hear the hate in his voice through his gritted teeth.
You tried to kick at him, hit him, but you could feel the tightness in your face and brain from lack of blood flow and oxygen.
"Stop, please." You attempted to choke out as your vision grew hazy.
"You belong in hell too." 
You thrashed until there was no more pressure on your throat, your hands and feet collided with nothing.
You sat up in your bed covered in sweat. You were alone and once again your room was as hot as the pits of hell themselves.
You picked up your phone from the nightstand, almost blinding yourself with the light from it as you checked the time. 
Namjoon had left hours ago. He had left upon your request.
"What the fuck." You sighed as you flopped back into your bed.
As you laid there the weight of reality seemed to feel heavier and heavier on your chest, crushing.
Your mother was dead, you had fucked a priest, the devil wouldn't leave you alone, and you had very little time before your son was gone forever.
Your bedroom felt too large, too spacious for your lonely body just as all of your problems did. Would you end up sucked into it all? Eaten alive? Was there any point in fighting at all?
You swallowed down the lump in your throat but it was no use. You couldn't stop the tears that filled your eyes and leaked into your hairline as you stared up at your ceiling.
"Please" your word brought forth your sobs in the empty room "make it stop. I'll do anything but give up my son, just make it stop."
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You couldn't help it, for weeks after your dream you felt weird around Namjoon. The rational part of your brain knew he wouldn't hurt you, although you still denied any little advances he made. It did fade, and once he took you out to dinner and you let him put his hand on your knee, but he was careful not to overstep boundaries.
You thought about calling him one night as you laid there sleepless in your bed. You don’t know how you had gotten so turned on but your body felt so hot with need.
You tried to just roll over and go to bed, but your sensitive clit throbbed along with your heartbeat as if begging you to touch it. Sny motion you made at all only made things worse until you gave in.
You pulled up your oversized sleep shirt and shoved a hand down your panties. You paused a moment as you realized that it wasn't just getting off you needed, but contact with someone.
You went to reach for your phone on the nightstand, but your hand didn't even meet it before you froze.
"Don't." It was a command.
Your eyes flashed to him sitting in the chair in the corner of the room, just like you thought you had seen him a month ago with Namjoon.
You quickly pulled your hand from your underwear and sat up with your mouth agape.
"Did you miss me, darling?" His horns tilted as his head did.
"Get out of my fucking house and leave me and my son alone!" You growled, clutching your shorts angrily in your fists.
"Why? So you can fuck that priest again?" He held up his index finger, slightly shaking it making a tsk-ing sound. 
"Why does it matter to you what I do?" Your voice was stone cold.
He narrowed his eyes at you and leaned forward in the chair with a smirk. You couldn't stop yourself from thinking how regal and utterly beautiful he looked. He looked far more casual this time in a black t-shirt and jeans, but nonetheless majestic and powerful.
"You must've forgotten. That's alright, I wouldn't mind reminding you. I'm not here for our son, don't worry, not just yet."
"Then let's talk about that." 
"Talk?" He gave a little smile "we can talk. Come here." 
Although you wanted to, almost needed to, you stayed in your bed.
"Then feel free to keep going… unless you want some help."
"Tell me why you're here." You demanded.
"I'm here to save you. You called me."
"I didn't." You argued.
He beckoned you over once more as he stood from the chair. You got out of bed this time and stepped closer.
"You've done nothing but try to get my attention for months. Don't argue, you know I'm right. I can hear it again, that delicate little heart of yours fluttering when you see me." He reached a hand out for you, you took it, it was just so warm in yours. You let him pull you in until your back faced his chest with his hands on your sides.
"You called me, see?" You closed your eyes as he whispered to you, your bodies swayed together in a nonexistent song. It felt as though he was pulling you deeper into a trance, and you let yourself go.
"Does that heartbeat for me? Do you live for me? Do you want me?" You felt his nose graze your neck, the hot air from his worst trailing behind it. You had dreams of this moment for years. His whispers, his touch, the way he made you feel drunk and hypnotized you, the way he made you feel whole.
"Yes." You couldn't lie, everything but the truth had melted away, you couldn't feel or speak much else. You were weak for him, weaker than you remembered.
"Then are you mine?"
"Yes." You answered once more.
"I'll talk to you my love, about whatever your heart desires. First, tell me what it is you want from me." He whispered as you felt him grip the hem of your sleep shirt at your thighs. His hands brushed your skin. You continued to sway with him, eyes closed, worried that if you opened your eyes that this would all be a dream, worried that if you looked at him you'd fall deeper.
You didn't want to say it, you didn't want to admit you wanted him right now. He had done so much to you. Your internal struggle was hard, you wanted him desperately, yet he had done so much to you and your family. Even your closed eyes couldn't hold back the tears that escaped.
"Why did you take her?" A single son escaped but you shut it down, you refused to show all of your weakness.
To your surprise, he gently shushed you.
"Darling, I didn't take her. Her soul was never mine to take. I don't decide who lives and dies, it was just her time."
You were stunned, why was he comforting you? Why did it feel so good?
"Please don't take our son, he's alI have now, he-"
"I've thought about so many things. We can talk later, no tricks, no lies. You don't need to worry. Just let them all fall away and tell me what you want."
You bit your lip as you felt his cock begin to twitch beside you.
"You already know I want you." Your voice was a soft, weak whisper.
"Yes, but do you want me to hold and comfort you? You've been struggling so much with that. Perhaps you want my cock buried so deep inside of you that it hurts. Or maybe you just want me to pump that belly full of a second baby." 
His hand slid into your panties as you let out a gasp of excitement. Every nerve in your body felt hypersensitive, so when he slid his finger over your slit you cried out for him.
"All of it. Please, I want it all." 
"What a greedy, needy little bitch. Did that boring god loving freak not satisfy you?" He teased as his finger dipped into your folds and teased at your clit.
"N-no." You stammered.
"You didn't look like you were having much fun, not until you saw me at least." He seemed so amused by it. "I'm a little mad you let him poorly use you like that" he seemed to growl making slight fear go down your spine. "Who fucks you better? Who has a bigger dick?" His finger circling your clit picked up speed with the ferocity of his words.
"You." Your breath was already short.
"Tonight, prove to me that you're mine, that you're devoted, that you'll do whatever it takes for me, And I'll show you I'm yours." 
This wasn't happening, you couldn't believe the words he had just softly said into your neck. Your disbelief was cut off by your quickly approaching orgasm. You let out a whine as your knees turned to rubber, you would've fallen had he not have been holding you tightly against him.
"That's it darling, let me have you, let go for me." Your orgasm exploded through you like a bomb and all you could do was whine.
"Such a good girl." He still held you tightly and placed light kisses on your neck and collarbone as he took his tattooed hand from the front of your panties.
You let out a small shriek when he picked you up and carefully set you on the bed. He could've broken you in half right then and there, if he wanted to.
"On all fours, ass facing me." 
You hurried into position for him, and for a while, you felt nothing until you felt the fiery sting of a slap along a cheek.
You sucked in a breath.
"What's the matter baby, can't take it for me?"
He was so wrong, you loved it.
"I'll take whatever you give me." Your words were followed by the pleasure of another slap.
"Fuck it." He muttered and suddenly you were dragged by your legs onto his lap where he positioned you over it.
"Take anything for me, huh? We'll see about that." The slaps kept coming until your ass felt raw. You arched your ass up for him as you let out a needy whine.
"You're so fucking wet, it's everywhere. Do you want me to touch you? Is that what you're whining for?" 
You let out another whine.
"Say it."
"Please touch me. I want you to touch me." 
"I'll give you what you want." You knew that tone he used, it was the tone of having something else planned.
His fingers immediately sunk into your core.
"You're wetter than I thought, I could slide whatever I wanted into you so effortlessly." 
You could hear the sounds of his coated fingers working you too.
"Whatever you want." You replied hoping it was his cock, but you knew better at this point.
"My love, I'm going to absolutely fucking ruin you."
You went to reply but suddenly felt the slight stretch and sting of more fingers entering you.
"Ahhhh." You let out but backed up further onto his hand, still wanting more.
"What a good little whore, look at you riding my hand and taking it all for me." 
You loved the pain, and he gave it to you like no one else could. You were already ruined for anyone else, but he didn't know that.
His hand felt so deep inside of you that you swear you could feel it in your stomach.
"Harder." You begged,  and he obliged.
"You like me filling you like this, slut? I'm going to stretch your pussy so well for my big cock."
You continued to rock backward in tandem with his movements, it didn't take long at all until you were almost there, panting and gripping the sheets.
He stopped and slowly pulled his hand from your cunt, leaving you feeling more hollowed out than a pumpkin.
You left his lap and looked at him just in time to see his shirt come off. His body was just as beautiful as you remembered it, something of pure art and fantasy combined. Tattooed, muscular, and smooth you just wanted to lick every single inch of him, you had to.
You climbed back into his lap and pushed him back while you leaned forward and placed your lips to the very warm flesh of his collarbone. Your lips made their way down slowly to his nipples and enveloped one in your mouth.
"Ah." A sound of surprise and pleasure came from him, and you loved it, you loved that you could make him feel that way, you wanted more.
You took your mouth from his chest and crawled backward until you sat between his legs.
You undid his pants and pushed his underwear down along with him. You had almost forgotten just how massive his cock was. It was veiny and the tip was a blushed shade of pink that made your mouth water.
You spit in both your hands and wrapped them both around his shaft.
You slid your spit slicked hands over his leaking head before slowly bringing then down to the base.
"Faster darling. Don't play with me." He threatened with a grunt. You did as he asked and even added your mouth.
His hands tangled tightly in your hair at once.
It was hard to take him even halfway into your mouth without you gagging around his size and thickness filling your throat.
As you sucked his dick, you stared at the three black sixes on his lower stomach and watched as they moved as his muscles flexed.
"What I wouldn't give to cum down your throat right now."
You moaned around his cock at the desperation and lust in his voice.
"So fucking good for me. You suck my cock so well with your little whore mouth." He gripped your hair tighter but still not enough to hurt.
Him lying there, moaning and groaning as you pleased him made you all the more impossibly wet, you could feel it as you squeezed your thighs together.
"Please come here." He asked as he released your hair and sat up.
As you let his cock leave your mouth and too sat up only for him to lift and drag you onto his lap once again. He reached down and guided his cock into your entrance.
As you lowered yourself onto him he made a noise that should've stopped your heart.
It was a moan and a sigh all at once, he combined that with dropping his head onto your shoulder. The fullness and warmth of his cock inside of you, every little move he made, he was all just too much. How could you survive something like this a second time, especially with being this close to him.
He didn't move even an inch for a moment, not until he lifted his head off of your body and peered at you with those inky black eyes through his just as inky dark hair.
His net movements were fast, rough, and hard. He grabbed your hair from behind, forcing your head as far back as it could go without breaking anything. Your chest was arched towards him and he used it to his advantage by taking a nipple into his mouth as he bucked his hips into you quickly. All you could do was grip his shoulders for dear life as he fucked into you, fingernails sinking deeper and deeper into his muscular flesh the closer he pushed you to your high.
You felt the little sharp sting of him pinching your nipple between his teeth. You couldn't help but fall completely apart as you moaned out the filthiest curse words that you could.
Once he let your hair go and you could properly look at him, you saw beads of dark liquid forming on his shoulders. Your nails and grip had drawn blood, real human blood.
All you could do was stare. He bled just like you, he was vulnerable just like you, just like anyone else.
"Hm?" He caught your staring but seemed confused.
"I-I hurt you. I'm sorry." You furrowed your eyebrows with guilt.
He laughed, it was a real laugh, not a teasing one, not an unamused snort. His nose crinkled and his more prominent two front teeth were made more visible.
"It didn't hurt, I didn't even know you did it." He tried to get a look at the little droplets himself before wiping one away with his finger to show there was no mark left, he had somehow healed.
Each fleeting glimpse of his humanity vanished as soon as you spotted it.
His dick was beginning to soften inside of you despite him not getting off yet.
"Did you want to kiss it and make it better for me?" His voice was seductively playful and you couldn't tell if he was joking or not until he brought his blood-smeared fingertips to your lips.
You looked him in the eyes as you took them into your mouth and sucked them clean. He looked satisfied and you could feel his dick twitch back to life inside of you, showing you how much he liked that. Without a second thought, you attached your mouth to his shoulder and began to lick and cuck at the blood droplets where the wounds once were. The moment reminded you of when you were a child and they told you that wine was the blood of Christ, except this was so much better. You wanted to show him you were willing to take him in any way possible, to submit to every desire he had.
He pushed his now hard cock as far as it would go into you.
"I want to do something to you." He whispered as he continued to slowly thrust.
"Do it." Your reply was fast.
"It's going to hurt you." He added.
"Do it."
“I will. For now, shut up and bounce on my cock, slut.” his tattooed hand grabbed throat “ and you better fucking ride it harder and faster than you did that stupid Jesus loving freak.” his face read of disgust.
“Yes daddy,” you replied trying to hide the smirk at the satisfaction on his face from you calling him that.
He dropped his hand from your neck and you began to move your hips as he laid back. You would normally start slow, but you let him have it. Everything about him was incomparable to anyone you’ve ever slept with.
“Fuck, like that baby.” His hair was messy, his eyes were squeezed shut and his tattoo that looked like a snake that wrapped around his torso almost looked like it was slithering. 
“You like that daddy? I took every inch of your big cock just for you.” you loved the power over him that he was letting you have and you were going to make sure you got to enjoy it.
His hand shot to your hip and he squeezed.
“I swear If you fucking make me cum right now you’ll fucking pay for it,” he grunted obviously trying to hold back seeing as his hand was digging into your skin as if it was the last lifeline between him and losing it.
“Don’t you want to cum in my pussy daddy? Fill it full of cum and watch it drip out of me?” you continued to tease him and bring him even closer as you jackhammered up and down on his rock hard dick.
“Fuck, this is your last damn warning bitch.” his jaw was clenched, but it was too late, you were already falling apart on top of him, once again saying the dirtiest shit you could as he shuttered under you, barely hanging on as he watched you cum.
You paused, breathing heavily for a moment of rest, but it didn't last long. He was pulling out of you and throwing you face down on the bed, holding your hands by the wrists behind your back.
“I fucking told you, didn’t I?” 
“Sorry, dadd-”
“Did I say you could speak bitch?”
He wasn’t even inside you anymore but you’re empty walls clenched as you let out a small moan onto the bed sheets.
“Now let’s see just how fucking much you’re willing to take. Be good for me darling.”
You were scared but excited at the same time, the adrenaline that coursed through your veins was nothing like you’ve ever felt before.
“Yes daddy.”
“Don’t fucking move.”
You listened and stayed completely still.
You felt his hand cover the back of your neck. It got warmer and warmer until it felt searingly hot, it was burning your skin. You bit down on your lip so hard it had to have left a bruise just to keep from screaming. There was no way of stopping the whimpers that came from you in the few seconds that his hand was on your skin.
“There,” he said and sounded as though he was admiring his work before releasing your body and letting you sit up. By the time you sat up though, the pain was entirely gone as if it had never even happened.
“It’s the mark, to match.” you knew he meant that he had just branded you with an upside-down cross to match his and your son’s. You were too busy noticing the wetness on your cheeks and wondering where they had come from to concentrate on this strange sentimental moment.
You felt something warm roll down your cheek and lifted a hand to wipe away what you now realized were tears, but he gently grabbed your wrist.
With his other hand went to your chin and guided your head to face him.
You were met face to face with him, his dark eyes peering into yours and also assessing your wet cheeks.
Both hands now went to your cheeks and his thumbs wiped over the wet mess on your skin. 
He was trying to dry your tears.
“I’m sorry I hurt you.” his voice was quiet. It was a glimmer of sincerity, a splinter of sweetness.
“I didn’t even feel it.” you joked but he didn’t buy it or laugh, instead he just continued to stare into your eyes with both hands on your face.
He leaned in so slowly, head tilting slightly and his lips met yours so gently. Your eyes closed and pressed your lips harder into his.
It was a sweet kiss but it held the strength and intensity of being punched in the stomach.
Your hands came up to roam the back of his shaggy, dark hair but your mind was elsewhere.
You imagined him as an average man, your son as a normal little boy, you imagined a family. Cuddling on the couch, touching him whenever you pleased, your son being able to play with his father, your life with him would never grow dull. However, your daydreams were dashed as your hand accidentally met with a horn. 
What was wrong with you? You knew these things were stupid and unattainable, he was unattainable. Although you had known this fact from the start, here you were sleeping with him again. He fucked you over so hard, he was pure evil and you knew it, but yet here you were falling for him even harder. To be fair though, was there a soul living or dead that could resist him, that ever has been able to?
You pulled away, his hands left your face.
He looked at you with wide eyes, he looked almost shocked, scared. There was some kind of very deep feeling moment between the both of you, some kind of wordless exchange of revelations. 
A million things you wanted to say to him flooded your mind at this moment. There were so many things you wanted answers to ”Do you know how miserable I was? Do you know what it felt like waiting for you in fear the entire time? Do you know how much I hate not being able to hate you? Do you know how bad it hurts me seeing your face in my son’s? Do you know how badly you ruined my entire adult life? Do you know how hurtfully perfect you look? Do you know how lucky and cursed I feel all at once? Do you feel any weight for the things you've done to me and my family?” but you were too scared this moment would end, that he would never come back, that he would take your son and leave. You wanted to cry, but you pushed the entire internal war out of your mind, you boxed it all away just to not ruin this moment.
During your thoughts and your stares at one another, his face had softened and his eyebrows furrowed.
“Y/n” you realized that it was the first time he had ever spoken your name out loud, and as beautiful as it had sounded coming from his lips, you didn't want to hear it spoken so guilt filled. “I’m so sor-”
"Are you going to make me cum again or not?" You broke the silence, and he seemed thrown off for a moment. You didn't know what he was apologizing for, but you didn't want to know. Not only did you want to shut this sad moment down just to have the fun back, but something inside of you hurt to hear and see him like this.
An expression you were familiar with him having flickered onto his face, a smirk. It relieved you and set the fire in your body back alight.
He tackled you with his hands wrapped around you. You were flesh to flesh, his lips moving to the space above your breasts, sucking hard before moving onto another are.
“Dont fuck anyone else.” it wasn't sharp like his normal demands, it was almost as if he was asking you not to without making it into a real question.
You almost snorted as he continued making an army of marks that continued to trail lower and lower.
You almost snorted sarcastically.
“Then who the Hell am I supposed to fuck?”
“Me, fuck me.”
You did sarcastically laugh at this one. 
“Don't laugh at me.” he said defensively before sucking a new place by your belly button.
“What? Every few years you’ll swing by and I just have to wait until then?”
“No. Are you even enjoying this anymore or have you now set your focus on calling me out?” he looked up at you with an arched brow.
“Calling you out seems more fun right now.” you were only half joking, all of that hurt hfrom earlier was now festering back up to the surface upon hearing his stupid lies.
“I told you I’d talk, and I will. Trust me.” he sat up and looked down at you.
“I’ve trusted you before and that was shitty.” you argued.
“Then why the fuck are you fucking me now? Why the fuck are you letting me mark you? Why the fuck are you telling me you belong to me?” he shot back.
“BECAUSE I WANT TO PRETEND YOU'RE NOT… NOT...I DON’T KNOW...THE ACTUAL FUCKING DEVIL!” you whisper yelled at him through clenched teeth.
He came down over you and looked you in the eyes for a moment with such a look you thought he might kill you, but instead his voice was quiet and calm.
“If you think I’m incapable of feeling then you’re wrong, you're dead wrong. If I didn’t feel, then why would I want my son? Why have I been watching him grow, watching you love and take care of him and doing my best not to interfere with your time with him. I may not be mortal but I have feelings, I have empathy. Do you understand the shit I have to see and be in charge of? Do you know what it feels like to just want something so pure in good while living in something so fucked? Watching you and our son has been the only sliver of heaven that I’ve ever been able to have.” his arms were shaking as he held himself over you. You had never seen his body show any signs of tiredness or weakness, even his wounds had healed right up. He was shaken talking about this and it was obvious.
It hit you hard. Why would he want to take him? Why did all of this just make sense?
“So please, don’t take this away from me right now. Let me make you cum again, let me just have this for a little longer and we can talk.”
You were stunned. He had felt the same way, he wanted to drag this out just as much as you did, he wanted to cherish this. The question now in the air was, if you both wanted to be together, then why couldn't you?
You yanked him by the hair, forcing his lips to collide with yours. Your tongue clashed with his split one, but it no longer surprised you or made you nervous. While little about him was normal, what was normal anyway? From the moment you saw him as he really was you had thought he was perfect, so why until now had you been wishing for him to be the man you first saw at the bar? Was it because the puzzle piece of his humanity had been missing in an otherwise perfect puzzle?
Your teeth gnashed together as if you were young, new lovers blooming with anticipation, as if you had never touched before now, despite fucking for god knows how long already.
He bit at your already sore lip you had bitten down on, but he wasn't harsh.
“I want you.” you told him meaning more than just how he took it. He reached between both of you and pushed himself into your already abused core, you winced from the ache and the sensitivity.
“Close your eyes” his voice was so quiet you almost didn't hear his instruction.
You closed them though.
“Now imagine me like you.”
“Why?” you asked.
“Humor me.” 
You did, you imagined him like he was the night of the bar, like you had thought of him earlier.
“Now run your hands through my hair.”
With your eyes still closed, you felt for his hair before coming them through the soft, wavy strands. Your eyes opened just to make sure what you were feeling was correct. As you looked at his hornless head, his brown eyes looked down at you. Now you properly looked him in the eyes and now that you could see his irises, you knew now that he was looking right at you, not just at you though. He looked at you like you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen with a small smile of amusement.
“I just wanted to have this moment with you, like you. I thought it would mean something to you to not have to look into cold, black pits.” 
The man looking and speaking to you right now was not the devil, he wasn't horrible or evil but neither was the man he was before but you were yet to know why he did the things he did.
You lifted your neck this time to kiss him and his lips chased yours as you laid back onto the pillow. He once again slowly began to thrust, short breaths and quiet moans escaped you both. Your legs entangled around his hips, angling your own body so he could hit just the right place.
“Be with me.” his voice shook as he continued to thrust “I’ll do anything.” he sounded just so weak as if he were pleading.
“I’m already yours, don't pretend you don't know that.”
“Let's have a family then, I’ll stay.” he rested his forehead on top of yours, his eyes were closed, hips still moving hard cut slow as if with each powerful but passionate thrust was a chance to convince you to be with him.
“As-” you could feel yourself coming closer and struggling harder to catch your breath. “As long as you stay.” You knew it, if he went away, if you lost him tonight, nothing would ever feel this good again, you'd never feel this complete for as long as you lived.
“Let's start now on expanding.” you could see his slight smile before his voice turned serious and sultry.” want me to put another baby in you?”
“Please, fuck I’m so close.”
“Come on baby, cum for me one more time.” he picked up the pace with his hips up just a little more. “Let me get you pregnant again.”
He only thrust into you a few more times before you were coming undone underneath him.
“Fuck, I love you fuck fuck fuck.” you moaned as he also let go, burying himself deeper than he already had been.
“I love you, I love you too.” he messily kissed your lips as you felt his last few pumps slow.
Only when he had said it back did you realize you had said it at all. 
You were still breathing heavily as he pulled out and laid down next you. There was silence between you, for a while as you both recovered.
"I said I would talk so here it is."
You decided to just lay there and listen to him.
"I've always known we were supposed to be together, always. There are things I just know, I can't explain it, sometimes I just know destiny and sometimes I don't until certain events happen. Ever since I became the king of hell I've always known that eventually there would be one woman that would bring me to my knees. They call her Lilith, although that's not her name just as satan, the devil, whatever, isn't mine. There have been stories and mythology written about you that just aren't true, much like everything else in my life. When I met your mother, I knew I was fucked. So I stopped you from being able to conceive, how was I supposed to know I was only helping destiny along? When you summoned me I was nervous, although curious as to what you would be like, I never watched you until you began to work on summoning me. I developed a plan. I thought if I just gave you what you wanted and then took it away from you then you would hate me, you would never want to see me again, but yet again I plated into destiny. The moment I saw my son… when I watched you care for him and love him, I-I felt this longing. I wanted to hold him, I wanted to be with you both. I kept my distance and fought against the urge to just drop in and tell you how I felt. I resented you for the power you held over me, but at the same time I wanted to give you your space and let you have your time with him. I was still going to take him but at that point it was out of love. I knew you were still angry with me anyway, rightfully so, I also thought… that you couldn't love someone like me anyway, you were better off with a mortal and I wanted to let you live your life. I watched your pathetic attempts to protect our son from me, at least you thought you were only trying to protect him. You're a good mother, just like yours was. When our son was really little I used to sneak into his nursery and just hold him and stare at him, I could see you in him. The point where I knew I had to step in was the priest. Not only did he treat my son like his, not only did you fuck him and make me jealous but-"
He abruptly wet quiet just as the anger in his voice seemed to pick up.
"I'm sorry." You replied.
"It's not that, it's not any of that that makes me hate him, it's not my jealousy." He still didn't say what it was, but instead he got out of bed.
"Where are you going?" You sat straight up.
"I'm going to shower if that's okay." He replied as he shuffled for the bathroom attached to your room.
"Sure." He was already in there by the time you uttered out your dumbstruck reply.
He had said he would stay, you don't know why him doing average things in your home just astounded you.
You laid back in the bed with the reassurance of him planning to stay and you thought about it all.
At first you asked yourself what your mother would think of this, what she would say. Maybe if she knew everything that he had just told you she simply wouldn't say anything at all. She had been able to love the devil's son and see him for just the little boy he really was, so maybe she would've done the same for the devil himself had she really known him.
You were beginning to feel uncomfortable with the stickiness of his speed leaking out and smearing all over your thighs.
Some part of you was nervous to go into the bathroom with him showering in there, but it was your house.
You ran to the bathroom as fast as it could to keep the cum from dripping everywhere and making a mess on the floor.
You paused as you caught a glimpse of his silhouette through the shower curtain.
His horns had returned, but you didn't look at him as much as his overall shape, you could help your staring.
"I hear your heart again, are you looking at me?" He chuckled and your eyes went wide with the horror of being caught.
"I…"
"Do you want in here with me?"
"...y-yes?" 
"Get in, I promise to just let you shower, no funny business." He offered.
He kept his word though, he did his own thing in the shower and so did you. He did look jarringly beautiful with the water beading on his tattooed skin and muscles, but you didn't know how much more your body could physically handle of him so you kept your hands to yourself.
He got out of the shower before you, you were a little concerned at the silence so you got out soon after.
You found a fresh towel and pajamas waiting for you on the bathroom sink so you quickly dressed.
He just sat there in a white t-shirt and black sweat pants at the foot of your bed. His head was down and he looked to be in deep thought as he stared at the floor. He looked a little sad.
"Have you seen him since you've been here?" You asked curiously, making him finally look up and shake his head.
"Would you like to?"
He seemed shocked by your offer.
"I wouldn't want to wake him…" 
"It's alright, he's a good sleeper, he'll go back to bed… if you want to that is."
"I really really want to, I haven't seen him person to person since he was a newborn."
You led him down the hall and pushed open your son's cracked bedroom door.
His night light dimly lit the form of his little body snuggled in his toddler sized bed.
You let his father take a few apprehensive steps into the room, slowly approaching him before he knelt on the floor by the bed.
You just looked on at the little moment.
He gently pushed his son's shaggy hair from his sleeping face, but caused him to stir.
"Daddy?" You heard your son's sleepy voice ask. You had no idea how he knew it was his father, and from the look on his father's face, neither did he.
"Hey buddy." 
Your son sat up and threw his arms around his father's neck, who promptly picked him up and stood. He wrapped his arms around the little boy, holding him close.
"How did you know it was me?" 
Your son unwrapped his arms from his father and looked at his face.
You saw his lips begin to quiver and his eyes fill with tears as he started to break down.
"Oh no." You whispered as you saw your boy stare at the horns on his father's head.
"Your horns are scaring him." You whispered.
Your son patted the top of his own head as he sobbed in his father's arms.
"Me too, I too."
"Oh." You said as you realized that your son was answering his dad.
"You have them too? That's how you knew, huh?"
Your son nodded to his father and began to cry harder. His dad pulled him back into his body, lightly shushing him and patting his back. He buried his head in the little boy's hair much like you had the day in your car after he was horrifically baptized.
The moment hit you like a train.
He had missed his father all this time, and you had no idea.
"you know I'm always with you, right? You and mommy both." 
Your son nodded into his father's neck, soaking his shirt with tears although his father didn't seem to mind at all.
"I know you hear me sometimes. You know I'm here." 
Your son pulled away from him again to look at him.
"Daddy-" his words were cut off by upset hiccups from crying so hard "no leave."
"I'm not. I'll stay, I promise." 
His father knelt back down on the floor and attempted to lay the boy back in his bed, but his little hands stayed locked around him.
"I'll be here when you wake up, and all of the rest of the days when you wake up from now on, you can let go, I'll be right here."
Your son finally relinquished his hold on his father who pushed more hair from his son's face.
"And mommy?" Your son's eyes look at you now.
"Mommy has always been here, silly." His father then spoke something in a strange language, it might've been the one from your dream after your son was born.
Your son gave his father a nod not just as if he understood, but he did understand this very strange language. You had never heard your son speak it, and you had no idea that he even knew a whole other language, until he spoke it back to his father.
He sat there knelt beside his son's bed until he drifted off to sleep. You watched as he gave him a kiss on his forehead before standing and turning to face you.
You walked into the hall and closed your son's bedroom door when he looked at you with a look of concern.
"There's still more I have to tell you, it's the most important thing."
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"You're going to have to trust me, okay?" He asked from his seat on the sofa beside you. "There are things I know and things I don't, you have the power to change destiny, and right now what I'm seeing is someone is going to try to take you away from us, from your family."
"Okay," you tried to patiently follow, ready for him to say anything.
"Namjoon is going to kill you."
"Why's he going to kill me?" 
"I had this deal with his whore grandmother… she wasn't happy with it, it wasn't my fault. It's not my fault mortals are idiots."
"Hey." You firmly snapped at him.
"It's just what I do, I teach lessons. Anyway, I believe Namjoon is going to hurt you and maybe even our son. He can't physically harm me, I'm immortal, but he can hurt the things I care about. Unfortunately, I can't kill him either, I can't kill humans, God's rules. So I can't stop him, there's nothing I can do but pass this to you. It doesn't matter what you do, Namjoon will hunt you down."
"Okay." You simply just sat there looking calm on the outside but terrified on the inside.
"So, y/n… I think it's kill or be killed in this case. If you die, I'm not sure how much I can do to protect our son but take him with me…" 
To hell was what he meant.
You let out a sigh as you stared at the floor and scraped together some kind of plan.
"Take my soul." You offered.
"Why?"
"In case something happens to me, take my soul." You were sure of your decision.
"I'm not taking your soul." He declined.
"Why?" It was your turn now to ask.
"Do you want to go to hell? Do you realize how many eternities you would be tortured down there before I ever found you?" 
"No." You answered both questions and seemed less sure of your offer now.
"I'm not taking your soul. Our son could come and go with me because he has that power, but you, a pure mortal… you would be in more pain than you could ever imagine." 
"But if I killed a man… wouldn't I go anyway?" You pointed out.
"Not if it was out of self defense for you and your family."
"What the fuck am I saying?! I can't kill father Namjoon!" You realized.
"Y/n, I know he's going to kill you, and I don't want to lose you, I'd do anything not to lose you. What about our son? What about our second child?"
Your mouth dropped open.
"Second child? It-we…?"
"It's not just you living in that mortal body anymore. I know, just like I did the moment I gave you our son. You have to live, you have to do this, you have to trust me."  He reached for your hand and threaded his fingers through yours. "I love you and I need you here with us."
"How do I do it?" You gave in.
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You were terrified as the phone rang.
You had just left your son with the babysitter and you sat in your car. You were alone but you felt him near you.
"Hey!" Namjoon's voice came through cheerfully and it made you feel sick.
"Hey, I'm not doing so great tonight. Everything is a bit heavy and I kind of want some fresh air. Would you go for a walk with me at the park? I know it's late but…" 
"Of course. The one closest to where you live, right? I'll meet you there in a few."
You thanked him before hanging up.
"I'm sorry you have to do this." He appeared right beside you in the passenger's seat now, but you didn't look at him, instead you spaced out while looking out the window at the dark park. You were nervous, you were trying to ready yourself, you were trying to wrap your head around this situation.
"What happens after? What do I do right after?" You asked.
"I'll take care of everything. No one will know." The grim thought of what that entailed was shadowed by reassurance of only having one task to do. "You just wait in the car, I'll drive us home. I'll take care of you." 
"What if he sees this opportunity to kill me like I do with him?" You asked with your hands shaking in your lap.
"I think he would wait for a moment when our son is with you, pick you off at the same time." 
Your mouth was dry, but you still tried to swallow down the weight of his words.
"But what if I die? You said you don't know all things." You continued to think your worries out loud.
"I also said people can change destiny, they do it all the time." 
"You haven't been able to." Your point made him go silent a moment. It was true, he had been fighting against his destiny with you since before you were born only to end up with you.
"Part of me didn't want to change it, even if I hated it at first. I've always wanted you. The first time I saw you I knew I wouldn't be able to stay away from you. The first time you saw me, I just wanted you to look at me that way forever, I didn't care about anything anymore and that was scary. You're my Lilith, my eternal soulmate, there was never any fighting you. There's nothing more powerful than what we have, not me, not god himself."
"What if you're tricking me?" You asked abruptly.
"You really think I would?" His voice sounded hurt and you could feel him looking at you as you said nothing "of course you do, of course you'd think that after what I've done and because of who I am." His voice was soft now like he had accepted that option "I wish I could take back what I did to you, everything I've done to you. I wish I never would've made that deal with your mother, I wish you would've had a family with a normal man, a normal life… what have I done?"
"Like you said" you sighed "it was supposed to happen anyway, it's not all on you. I've suffered for you, and now I'm going to kill for you. Would I be doing that- any of this if I really thought you were tricking me?" You admitted. "Maybe I'm just blinded by you, so in love with you and wanting a family with you that I can't see anything else, you're the devil, it's probably what you do, but what other option do I have anyway?" 
"We could go home." He offered softly. "We could have our family and play pretend until it's ripped away." You could hear him swallow louder than his soft words."Then I'll have nothing, but at least I would've had everything for just a fraction of a moment in my eternal life."
"I'm not going to live forever anyway you know, our son might, but I'm human. I die, and when I do I'm destined to be tortured in hell for eternity." 
"You're not going to hell." 
"How do you know?" You asked partially out of curiosity "I'm in love with Satan, I bare his mark, I bared his child. How much more sinful can I be? You can't sit there and tell me Satan's soulmate is going to heaven."
"God has never let me have anything. If he decides it's your destiny and your time to go, if you're taken from me and I can't have you in life, he's not going to let me have you in death." He explained.
You sat there thinking about what he said and came to the very real conclusion that you were most likely going to die tonight. God wouldn't let him have you, he had already seen that Namjoon would kill you, you were going to die. 
Your eyes began to fill with tears as everything finally began to sink in.
"Please take care of our son." 
"Don't." He snapped at you "Don't you say that shit like I'm going to lose you."
You began to sob, you weren't listening to him.
"You're going to go out there and fuck him up and that's going to be the end of it." His voice was stern, but you were falling apart. You let your head fall onto the steering wheel.
"Why wont you just take my fucking soul?!" You cried in despair and frustration "you have every single fucking thing in my life but that, just take it god damn it! Take it and let me burn until you find me. I will obviously go through anything for you and our son at this point. Just fucking take it." 
"You don't deserve it. I don't deserve you, okay? I've fucking destroyed your life, I'm not dragging this into the timeless afterlife, no matter how badly it hurts. We have one single shot, and this is it. I'm fucking horrible, I'm the worst of the absolute worst, but there’s no way I'm going to be that selfish to let you rot in hell because of me." 
"Please?" Your voice was a desperate squeak as you finally turned to him. "Fuck." You uttered at what you saw.
There was a dark liquid running from his pitch black eyes and down his cheeks.
"Is-is that fucking blood? Are you crying blood?" 
You watched as it pooled at his chin and dropped onto his white shirt.
"Please do everything you can tonight." He ignored your question and begged you.
If you had a doubt that he loved you before, you didn't now. You watched as he closed his eyes.
"God," he began, he didn't seem as though he was talking to you at all "just let me have this, please? I'll do anything. Just let me have my family."
The dark car was suddenly illuminated by headlights coming from behind. You turned to see a car pulling into the parking lot.
"I'll be with you." He spoke as Namjoon parked beside your car.
The passenger's seat was empty when you looked back.
This was it.
You felt for the pocket knife you had put in your pocket upon leaving the house and your adrenaline began to rush through your body.
You willed your weak legs to get out of the car.
You forced a half-hearted smile but did your best not to look him in the eyes.
It was quiet at first as you both started down the dark trail.
"Don't get offended, but you look terrible." 
You hadn't slept since you had gotten your mission yesterday night, your mind felt fried and stressed and tired.
"It's been hard." You were honest about how you felt.
"Why is your lip bruised? Did you get hit?" He pried as you thought back to how hard you had bit it the other night.
"No, I did it, by accident." Although it was the truth, you wouldn't have believed it either with the way you had said it.
"Are-are you seeing anyone? It's been a few days since we talked and-"
"No." You lied quickly.
"If there's anything I can do to help you or your son… I know things are still rough for you…" 
"We'll be okay." 
He gave you a strange look.
"You're not still worried about… him?" You could hear the suspension in Namjoon's voice and you knew you had to say something to extinguish it for now.
"I am, I just don't know what's left to do, I feel so hopeless." You said as you saw the path begin to lead into a more wooded area ahead.
"Don't you feel him right now?" Namjoon asked.
"He's always just… around, I'm used to it. Maybe it's just me at this point." 
"What's that on your neck?" He reached out to see.
You had to do it now, you felt like your mark had given you away.
You stepped back out of his grasp as you quickly took the knife from your pocket and flipped it open. You didn't know if he had time to see it or not before you lunged at him.
He had put his hands up to stop you but the force you had come at him sent him toppling backward. 
You went to plunge the knife into his neck only to feel his hand around your wrist stopping you.
He yelled for help but there wasn't another soul at the park, you had been here awhile waiting, you would know.
You used your other hand to help overpower him, but he was still stronger even with all of this adrenaline and chemicals coursing through your body, even with the image of your family in your mind.
"Stop!" Namjoon yelled at you, but this was too far gone to stop now, your mind was already made up. You knew that if you stopped now then you would be the one who died.
Your arms were beginning to grow tired and your strength was weakening and because of that he was able to shift the point of the knife towards you.
In one last burst of strength you tried to switch the knife's direction back towards him but your muscles just gave out.
You didn't feel the pain of the plunge into your chest at first, but you felt the crack of your ribs at the sheer force. You were in shock, it didn't feel at all like you had just been stabbed. You let go of Namjoon and rolled over onto the cool grass as you tried to process everything.
You could hear Namjoon panicking, sitting over you, trying to help you,  it was confusing.
Why was he trying to help you? He wanted you dead.
"Please? Where are you?" You choked out. It was hard to breathe, you felt like you were drowning as you looked up at the stars.
"Get away from her." It was the only voice you wanted to hear, it had brought you some kind of peace.
You saw Namjoon look at something with wide eyes before leaving your line of vision. His quick footsteps on the ground you lay on got further and further away. 
You continued to choke and gasp.
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Jungkook watched in the distance as the knife was turned on you and the blade disappeared in your chest.
It hadn't hurt until now. It was as if you were his voodoo doll. He had never felt pain before, but once he felt the sting, he knew exactly what it was, although his pain came from the inside. Until now he had been watching coldly, waiting for this to happen, knowing you would die.
You had to die, there was no other way you'd let him have his son, there was no way you'd let your son end this world. You were too compassionate, too human, too emotional. You were all the things Jungkook never thought he was. Perhaps you completed him in many ways he only was now able to realize.
He was able to fool you so well, tell you all the sweet things you needed to hear to lead you to your own demise. But why did it only now hurt him? Had it been so easy to lie to you because maybe somewhere deep down in his unbeating heart he knew that maybe you really were the one? He felt as though that as you laid there dying, that you were forcing your most human parts into him, you were cursing him.
He had never actually thought you were his Lilith, his soulmate, not until now as he watched you bleeding out and physically felt it. He felt the weight of every sweet thing and lie he had ever told you pressing on his chest. Your face, the sweet moments, holding you, the guilt of never telling you his name, everything flashed before him. He wondered for a moment if he was dying too.
"I have given you a gift, the gift to feel.Your heart is broken, child. Go to her, be with her in her last breaths before I bring her home."
It wasn't even a voice that Jungkook heard, but it wasn't in his head either. He knew who was speaking to him. He suddenly felt enraged. He wasn't going to let God take you away from him.
"Get away from her." Jungkook boomed making the silly mortal that was panicking over you run at the sight and power of his voice.
Jungkook knelt down beside you and watched as the blood flowed from the corners of your mouth and tears streamed from your eyes.
"He's not going to take you from me! God damn it! Please don't take her!" Jungkook knew you wouldn't go to hell, god himself had said so. You did nothing wrong, you had been fooled by him just like Eve had been, and Eve still went to heaven when she died. He would never see you again and it hit him harder than anything ever had before.
Jungkook  lifted his hand, the one he hadn't unknowingly slipped through your fingers, and produced a flame which gave way to a scroll of paper.
He pulled you into his lap as you continued to choke. He put your hand to your wound and dipped your fingers into your blood.
"It's okay, it's going to be fine, please just sign it, you have to move, sign it." He let go of your hand but it was limp. There was no more choking, only a faint rattling coming from you now.
"Please please just sign the paper." He begged. "I'm so sorry, I was wrong, I did this and I'm so sorry. It hurts so badly, sign the paper, I need your soul, I need to find you." 
Silence.
There was no hummingbird heartbeat, there was no heartbeat at all as he looked into your empty eyes that still looked back at him. Your body lay in his lap with the mark he had given you, but you were gone. 
“But I love you...” it was the first time in his existence that he had said it and meant it. You had never known he didn't mean it, you had never known everything he did was a lie, maybe it was best that way. Despite not feeling any of it before, he felt it now, all at once. If he could do it all over again just to mean it, just to experience those feelings along with you he would. He would have held you longer, cried more, he wouldn't have ever let you do this, he wouldn't have fed you those dreams and lies and he would have protected you. Namjoon never wanted to hurt you.
All Jungkook wanted to do now was hold you, so he did until you grew cold. It wasn't fair he only got to feel this after you were gone as punishment. He wanted to go back, he wanted to start over, but it was too late. What kind of cruel god would gift him with his now?
His chest continued to sting, as his anger continued to fester. He hated everything, God, Namjoon, himself, this horrible fucking mortal world. 
He was going to burn it all. He never wanted to make another deal with any human ever again.
Whilst he couldn't touch these stupid fucking humans, his son could, he was half human.
This wasn't supposed to happen for another few years. He didn't think his son was old enough just yet, but it would have to do, he was still naive enough to destroy humanity on his father's command. All he had to do was show his son what he was capable of, fill him with rage for his dead mother, and watch the world burn. All Jungkook knew was fire and destruction, now his son could learn as well, both of them with a bitterness in their hearts.
Jungkook let out a loud scream of anger and frustration and all of these new feelings that he didn't want that felt like they were internally ripping him apart. 
The entire park was sent up in flames, including your body.
The end was coming early for this world, it was over. He was going to destroy every last one of God's precious creations for making him feel like this.
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xpeachesncream · 3 months ago
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lowkey | masterlist
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⦿ boo’d up in the daytime
⦿ mackin’ & hangin’ in the nighttime
↳ SERIES RELEASE DATE: 05/15/2021
summary: in order to pass organic chemistry and pay off your car damages from an accident, all you have to do is help the nerd, jeon jungkook, with a few things: pretend to be his girlfriend and teach him the ways of dating.
pairing: popular!reader x nerd!jjk
genre: college au, fake dating au, friends to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut
warnings: the tracks/mixes included in the party playlist can get really explicit so please do not listen if it makes you uncomfortable - i apologize in advance; unprotected sex (protection is your friend!), oral sex, marking/biting, dirty talk, teasing, making out, straddling, dry humping/grinding, fingering, breast play, size kink, cum eating, creampie, multiple orgasms, ass slapping, body worship, mentions of cheating/infidelity, jealousy, insecurities, angst, cussing/mature language, toxic relationships, alcohol consumption, marijuana use, multiple party/club scenes, dancing, etc. (individual warnings for each chapter will be included)
author’s note: was gonna be a one shot, but obvi not anymore 🤧 also! original idea for this changed a bit - inspired by the movie ‘love don’t cost a thing.’ please, please, please know that this is purely fictional and was created out of imaginary ideas. this is not a real portrayal of any of the characters involved.
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teaser. || 01. || 02. || 03. || 04. || 05. || 06. || 07. || 08. || 09. || 10. || 11. || 12. || 13. || 14. || 15. || 16. || 17. (final) ||
2K notes · View notes
minyfic · 11 days ago
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sharp cookie - JJK | M
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pairing: ex-boyfriend!jungkook x reader
summary: when your ex-boyfriend, aka new boss, asks for a chance, you struggle to believe him when he says that he has changed his womanizing ways.
based on this request.
genre: angst, fluff, smut
word count: 13.1K
warnings/tags: strong language, CEO!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Y/N is impulsive, explicit smut-unprotected sex, dirty talk, choking, edging, slight overstimulation, fingering, soft to rough sex, multiple positions, creampie, masturbation, oof fucking with a diamond necklace on
a/n: hope you liked this anon!
“Hello, it’s nice to finally meet you Y/N-ssi.”
Bowing, you smile at the tall, bespectacled man, taking his extended hand in yours.
“Just Y/N is fine, you are…?”
“I’m Kim Taehyung, I’m kind of like the art collector here.”
Taking the seat that he points to next to the reception desk, you survey your surroundings, the empty space glowing in the golden hue of the lighting, the smell of fresh paint still lingering in the air. You love the peace and quiet here, a stark contrast to your previous working environment.
“So…”
You gesture to the walls, a boxy grin splitting his face as he walks over to where you’re seated.
“You probably know that we’ve just got done with setting up this place. Most of the pieces are on their way here. I have a few in the storage but I need to work through them and get them out here. Have you met Kim Namjoon? The manager? He should’ve been here by now,” he glances at his watch, “we’re still sorting out his office so he’s at the reception desk for now, your office is done. I mean, that is if you get the job. Which I totally think you will! I’ve seen your credentials.”
You chuckle, waving him off, “it seems like I’m the only one here for this post.”
Nodding, he tugs his pants at the knee as he sits down next to you, “others were here yesterday, but our boss can be picky. He came in personally for the interviews, said that marketing is one of the most important aspects when it comes to an art gallery.”
“Yes one of them, I think that your job is absolutely paramount in this business.”
He shoots you a smirk, “guess we’ll be working together.”
“If I get this job,” you counter, giving him a playful smile.
“Which you will.”
Your laughter echoes throughout the space, holding the copy of your resume tightly in your hands. After a few minutes of silence, a thought that has been nagging at the back of your mind comes to the forefront.
“When you say your boss can be picky…you’re talking about Kim Seokjin right?”
He opens his mouth to answer when the sound of a phone ringing interrupts him.
Trotting back to the reception desk, you watch him answer the phone and mutter a few ‘okays.’ Putting the phone down, he beams at you, “you can go in now. Fighting!”
Rubbing your palms on your skirt, you adjust your bag around your shoulder and walk to the door he had indicated earlier. You knock on the door twice, but no one answers. Taking it as your cue to enter, you open the door and shut it again carefully, spinning around to see a large desk in front of a floor to ceiling window, a man in a suit with his back facing toward you as a woman next to him seems to be adjusting his tie then starts buttoning up her shirt, a large smile on her face as she smooths her hair down.
Clearing your throat, the woman takes notice of your presence. Her eyebrows furrow, loud voice startling you.
“Who said you could come in?”
Taking a few steps forward, you place your resume on the desk in front of the man whose back is still facing you.
“Taehyung, at the reception…”
Gaze flicking between your face and the resume, she picks up a black pen, shoving the folder around.
“We already have this,” you notice some of her red lipstick smeared on her chin.
“I know,” you swallow, “it had said that I should carry one to the interview.”
Leaning back in her chair, she crosses her arms, placing one leg over the other as she points to the chair in front of the desk. The man’s hand reaches for her thigh, squeezing it through her black stockings. You bow, trying to calm your breathing as you prepare for their questions.
“So tell us, why should we hire you?”
Jumping right into it, you think. You feel a little tense from the way she’s looking at you, almost like she’s sizing you up. But you push those thoughts away and think of why you’re here in the first place.
“When I read the job posting, I noticed that you were looking for someone with a mid- or intermediate level of marketing experience for the art gallery. If you have a look at my resume-“
“We’ve already been through your resume. Give us something else.”
You hold back a cough when the man interrupts you, back still turned to you. How rude.
Do these people even know what a proper interview entails? How unprofessional of them to be intimate during working hours, especially when a potential employee is in their presence. They probably think you can’t see what’s going on behind the desk. Judging from this short exchange, it seems like you won’t be able to work with people like them.
“I’m sorry,” you stand from your seat, grabbing your resume from the desk and bowing one last time. Giving the back of the man’s head a glare. You’ll find a job elsewhere, you’re here in Seoul after years and there are plenty marketing jobs out there. You just thought that working in an art gallery might be a little exciting, far different from your other marketing posts.
You’re about to sling your bag over your shoulder when the woman whispers something to the man, he spins around, finally showing you his ug-
“Jungkook?”
“Y/N?”
You stare at each other, jaws touching the floor, frozen in place.
5 YEARS AGO
“I love this weather.”
The boy sitting next to you hums, too engrossed in his phone to actually appreciate the weather.
You adjust your position on the couch, placing your chin on your hands as you watch the raindrops trickle down the window.
“Did you speak to your dad and brother?”
He shakes his head, lip tucked between his teeth as his thumbs work at a fast pace, typing away. Your eyebrows furrow, wondering who he could be chatting to if you’re sitting right here. It can’t be any of his family members, they’re too old to chat. Plus, his friends are probably pissed out drunk at this time.
“Who are you chatting to?”
Shaking his head again, he moves away from you, elbow digging into the armrest.
“Jungkook,” you whine, “you’ve been on that damn phone ever since we got here. This is our chill time. Remember?”
“Fuck Y/N, could you stop being such a nag?”
You’re a bit taken aback at his tone, he never raises his voice at you, ever. Something is definitely up.
Scooting closer to him, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pressing your chest into his back and kissing the mole on his neck. He sighs, locking his phone and placing it screen down on the couch. He unhooks your hands from around his chest, gently pushing you away, eyes not meeting yours.
A small frown forms on your face at his reaction, he loves your cuddles, you can feel tears prickle your eyes.
“Y/N,” he scratches behind his neck, you watch him attentively, waiting for him to tell you what’s wrong.
“I think…I think we should break up.”
You can feel your heart thud in your chest, hands shivering as you blink at him. The boy in front of you suddenly a stranger.
“W-Why?” Tears start to roll down your flushed cheeks, nose clogging up.
“Because…We’ve been together for so long since high school and-“
“SO?!”
Your face is hot, anger seeping through you at his words. How could he suddenly have this change of heart, everything was fine just yesterday. You’re trying to look into his eyes but he avoids your gaze, picking at his calluses.
“We’ve been together for so long and aren’t you bored?”
You surge forward, taking his hands in yours, “no, Jungkook, I’m not bored. I love you. I meant everything I said before. I will never get bored of you-“
Your voice is nasally, shaking as you try to plead with him.
Removing his hands from your hold, he places them in your lap, his eyes finally meeting yours and the look in them tells you everything you need to know.
“B-But you’re bored of me?”
More of a question than a statement but his face lights up like you finally got what he’s trying to say. Your heart thunders in your chest, stomach flipping at the thought that Jungkook won’t be in your life anymore. That you weren’t enough to make him stay, that your words meant nothing to him, that all his words could’ve been lies.
“Not bored…But I think we should see other people, I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to but Y/N, we’re gonna be twenty-two very soon and- and don’t you think that five years is a long time?”
You don’t respond, knowing that when Jungkook has his mind set on something, no one, not even you could change his mind.
“I think that these are our years to have fun, not be in a committed relationship.”
His words strike through your chest, you just want him out of your sight.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” He smiles, coming closer to give you a hug but you push him away, giving him a teary smile back.
“So let’s watch a movie now,” he reaches for the remote but you snatch it from him.
He gives you a perplexed look, you avert your gaze to the hallway.
“Uhm, I think I’m coming down with the flu. Can I rest?”
“Y/N, don’t be like that…”
“Don’t be like what?!”
Your chest is heaving, his eyes are blank as he searches yours. He grabs his coat and heads for the door, muttering a ‘bye, Y/N’ as it clicks shut.
Wordlessly, you grab the tissue box from the coffee table, padding down the hallway and locking your room door. Flopping face first into your mattress, your cries are muffled, unsure of what to do with the hurt that surmounts physical pain.
What hurts the most was that he didn’t even seem sad to not be with you anymore. He even thought that everything could go back to normal, that you could be friends despite having so much of history together. No more Jungkook and Y/N.
You’ve even had your first time together after you graduated high school, your sobs get louder when his face of pure happiness and pleasure fills your mind, how he made sure to be gentle with you, how you explored your likes and dislikes together.
He was probably the sweetest, most considerate guy you have ever met in your entire life, how could you miss the signs? You try to pinpoint a moment from today, from yesterday, from last week, last month, when did things change for him? When did he realize that he doesn’t love you anymore? What if he never loved you? You literally handed him your heart all those years ago, you can still remember the day you fell in love with him.
Your blanket is soaked with tears, but you couldn’t care, you only care about the fact that Jungkook was probably lying to you all this time. How easy it was for him to let everything go.
Sitting up on your elbows, you wipe your tears away roughly, sniffling as you snatch your phone from the nightstand, blocking his number and blocking him from everything.
If only it was that easy to block him from your heart.
Weeks pass and Jungkook’s intentions became perfectly clear to you when you saw him at a few parties during the weekends. A different girl on his arm each time you saw him on campus, not an ounce of sadness, when you spend all your nights crying and thinking of the past, wondering where you went wrong when you were so in love. At least, you know you were.
You know that it would be a long, long time before you get over him, a new man in your life is out of the question. Despite the fact that Jimin is trying extremely hard to set you up with his friends. They’re charming and sweet, but you don’t want to hurt someone else due to the fact you aren’t over your ex.
You decide to channel your energy on things that matter, things like your career and your future. It’s okay to think of him now and again, but time heals all wounds.
PRESENT
Jungkook can feel the blood rush to his ears. He stands from his chair and makes his way to you, your eyes are as wide as saucers as you look him up and down, he smirks, doing the same. You look as soft as he remembers, however, the look in your eyes tells him that years have passed, a much more mature woman standing in front of him. Before he can think twice, he wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close to him. He shuts his eyes as he sniffs your hair, your sweet candy scent now replaced with rich vanilla.
When you break apart, he can’t tear his eyes away from you, the interview and everything else forgotten. You look beautiful in the beige coat, he always loved neutral colors on you.
“Do you two know each other or something?”
His eyes flicker to Soojin still sitting at the desk, he knows how intimidated she gets in the presence of his attractive clients, he can only imagine how she must feel in front of you, especially when his hands are still placed on your shoulders.
Taking a step back and away from his hold, your voices overlap as you answer the question.
“Yes.”
“No.”
Jungkook chuckles at your response, you might be right, you knew each other. Past tense. He’d love to get to know the new you.
“Y/N, this is my assistant Soojin,” he watches you give her a wary smile.
“Soojin, this is Y/N, Euphoria’s new Marketing Manager.”
Jungkook doesn’t give Soojin time to protest before he’s handing you a few documents.
“Soojin, would you give us a few minutes, thank you.”
When the door shuts behind her, he turns to you, his smile doesn’t falter as your face is set in a blank expression.
“You didn’t have to give me the job, that wasn’t a proper interview.”
Shoving his hands in his pockets, he walks over to his chair, gesturing to the jug of water on the table. You shake your head, taking the seat you had previously occupied, scanning the documents he gave you.
“I know you’re capable,” he shrugs, unable to take his eyes off of you, you’re even more beautiful than the last time he saw you, he cocks his head as his eyes rake down your figure, not much to see with your long coat concealing most of it but he does notice that your boobs look fuller. Your habit of forming a pout as you concentrate on signing the documents makes him smile.
“You haven’t changed a bit,” you speak, gaze still fixed on the documents.
He chuckles, knowing what you’re referring to. You must’ve seen the interaction with Soojin.
“Well, I can only hope you haven’t.”
Your eyes lift to meet with his, a smirk plastered on his face. You still have the same blank expression on yours as you hand him the documents, gaze unfaltering as he lets his fingers brush yours as he takes the stack of papers from you. You bow, carrying your bag as you walk to the door. He’s a little confused, he thought that you would catch up on these past few years.
“Hey, wait, Y/N. We haven’t seen each other in years,” walking over to you, he buttons his blazer, hearing you sigh.
You stop in place, turning around to give him a smile, one that could be described as professional.
“I’ll see you tomorrow sajangnim.”
His eyebrows furrow, you’ve known each other since high school and now you’re acting all formal with him.
“What’s with the formalities? How have you been, Y/N? You look great.”
“Thanks, you too,” your eyes flicker to his lips, “red looks good on you.”
You turn on your heel, exiting the room with him still confused at your remark. He doesn’t have any red on him?
-
“Oh my God, Jimin. I don’t know what possessed me to sign those papers.”
You hear your friend chortle over the speaker, “the power of Jeon dick!”
“Please,” granola stuffed into your cheek, “that dick has been all over the country.”
“Yeah, but it was fresh when you had it.”
You set the spoon in your bowl, pointing at the screen threateningly, “I did not call you to discuss Jungkook’s dick.”
He raises his hands defensively, “I’m just saying, you did say he got better each time.”
“Chim!”
“Okay okay, I’m done. But in all seriousness, don’t you think it’s weird that you completely missed the fact that he owns that gallery.”
You nod, swallowing your yoghurt, “when I did research, he was literally nowhere on the site, it just stated that Kim Seokjin is working on the development of the art gallery. BUT when I checked on the site a few hours ago, and did a little more digging, turns out that Kim Seokjin works under Jeon Jungkook, owner of Jeon Inc, who owns that building and left that space for the sole purpose of building said gallery.”
“I think it’s so funny that all he ever complained about when you two were together was how he’ll never take over his father’s business yet here he is.”
You hum, “but one thing I know for sure, he’s still a massive flirt. It’s just so…weird that he happened to be-“
“Your boss!”
“Uhm yeah, I just hope he keeps me out of his love affairs. We might be exes but the only thing I’ll have with him is a strict professional relationship.”
“Fate is inevitable Y/N.”
“I think it was just the circumstances.”
Jimin yells into the speaker, “don’t deny fate!”
“Stop yelling! I miss you! When are you coming back to Seoul?”
“Hmm, before the gallery opening, don’t worry.”
“You better,” you warn, “I’m gonna need you there.”
“Why?” He smirks, “need me to save you from Jungkook’s massive schlo-“
“Shut the fuck up Jimin! That’s it, goodnight.”
“Sweet dreams, or should I say sweet di-“
Shutting your laptop, you set your now empty bowl on the nightstand and pull your blanket over your head. You need all the sleep you can get for your first day tomorrow.
-
It’s 6:46AM when you arrive at the building, Taehyung had messaged to inform you that they plan on opening the doors to the public by the end of this week, so that means earlier mornings for now.
Pushing the glass doors open, you see someone sitting at the reception desk, not Taehyung. He lifts his head when he hears your heels clicking on the tiles. Waving, you make your way over to introduce yourself, this must be Kim Namjoon.
“Hi, I’m Y/N, the-“
“Sales Marketing Manager of Euphoria Gallery, I’m Kim Namjoon, just the regular manager around here but it seems like I’m also the receptionist,” he stands from his seat, two deep dimples denting his cheeks.
Chuckling, you shake his hand, “Taehyung had told me that you’re still looking for a receptionist and your office isn’t complete as yet.”
He walks around the counter, “yeah. Guess I just have to deal with it for now. Come, let me show you your office.”
As you walk along the small hallway that’s near the reception desk, he fills you in on what the plans are for this week. How they had received over one hundred submissions when the opening of this gallery was announced.
“Taehyung’s got his work cut out for him,” you toss your hair behind your shoulder to readjust your bag.
He nods, fitting a key into a white door with a blank nametag stuck to it.
“So do I, he’s just the dealer, I plan the exhibits and stuff. And so do you Y/N. I already set all the files on your desk, you’d just have to work through them,” he holds the door open for you to enter, bright sunlight lighting up the space, “but Taehyung handled the first few sales until someone took your-“
Both you and Namjoon spot someone sitting behind your desk, he spins around in the black leather chair.
“Jungkookie? What are you doing here this early?”
Namjoon’s voice goes high-pitched to show his surprise which matches yours, but Jungkook’s eyes are fixed on you. You see Namjoon look between the two of you from the corner of your eye when silence settles in the warm space.
“Leave us hyung.”
Namjoon silently exits the room, closing the door behind him as he goes.
You avert your gaze to the view behind him, setting your bag and water bottle on the desk as you speak.
“I think this is supposed to be my desk.”
He chuckles, sitting up from the seat and pushing his coat back to stuff his hands into his pockets.
“It’s all yours, sweetheart.”
You scoff, walking to the desk to skim the files that Namjoon had mentioned earlier. “What do you want?”
“Can’t I talk to an old friend?”
You lift your head to look at him, “an old friend? I think you’re forgetting something.”
Taking a step closer to you, his eyes move up and down your body, you suddenly feel so exposed under his gaze. You take a step back and hold up your palms to keep him away.
“I remember everything about you, Y/N.”
“Listen. Jungkook. This is my job now which I take very seriously. I don’t have time for all your bullshit. I’ve left that in college. So would you please keep this relationship professional?”
He stops in his tracks, cocking his head to the side as he searches your eyes, you take notice of the eyebrow piercing.
“Funny, you’re here today.”
His eyebrows furrow, “I own this place, Y/N.”
Folding your arms, you lean your hip on the desk, “I mean, funny that you’re here, where you are, today. Jeon Jungkook, owner of Jeon Inc. I didn’t think you’d give in to your father.”
That seems to rattle him a bit, he moves to stare out the window, “on my terms of course.”
You hum, remembering his parent’s aversion to tattoos and piercings.
“That’s why I’m investing in this gallery,” he continues, “it’s something I want. And if I can’t sell my art then I’ll help others sell theirs.”
It still doesn’t make sense to you, but you’ll let it go for now. If you continue to talk about your personal matters, you’ll eat your own words of keeping this relationship strictly professional.
Sighing loudly, he turns around to look at you and you flicker your gaze to the files on your desk.
“I have work to do.”
He nods in understanding, walking over to the door but not before calling over his shoulder, “I’ll be back, Y/N.”
Is that a threat or a promise?
-
The week passes by quickly and it’s already Friday, you, Namjoon and Taehyung had worked tirelessly throughout the week to get everything in order for the opening tomorrow.
Jungkook was there every day, without the woman from your interview, at your desk, still pestering you about…you still have to figure out what he wants from you but the bedroom eyes he keeps shooting your way gives you a vague idea. Which is a warning for: avoid at all costs.
It’s only natural to keep your guard up around him. He ruined your chances of love for a few years, constantly keeping your walls up around men who could’ve possible been good for you. Jimin had said that you shouldn’t project your trust issues on others but it’s just you who has trust issues. It’s a part of your character now, to constantly be wary of what they say to you, not to believe them so easily.
If you’ve pushed other guys away because of him, your scepticism is heightened with Jungkook. He is the one who caused it in the first place, the one who shattered your heart and then pretended like nothing ever happened. Even now, you’ve obviously gotten over everything but there’s still a part of you that aches, he was your first love, your first everything.
You exit the elevator with Taehyung, chatting excitedly about tomorrow when he halts in his step. Following his gaze, you notice Jungkook standing a few feet away from you at the lounge area, watching the two of you.
“Goodnight, Y/N. See you tomorrow,” you tug on Taehyung’s cardigan.
“Where are you going?”
“It looks like he wants to talk to you.”
“I don’t want to talk to him,” you pout.
Chuckling, he detaches your hand from his clothing, “well, you have to. He’s our boss and I know he can be a bit scary but- Wait did he try his tricks on you or anything?”
You see Jungkook’s pierced eyebrow jump when he sees the two of you whispering, “he’s actually my ex from college days.”
“Seriously? Wasn’t he kind of a-“
“Before that,” you roll your eyes.
Taehyung’s mouth makes an ‘o’ shape, glancing at Jungkook then leaning over to speak in your ear, “he’s probably gonna ask you to be his date for the opening tomorrow. Just say you’re going with me.”
You nod, then turn your head to look at Taehyung again, “but I can’t lie, he’ll obviously be there tomorrow.”
“No you idiot! You are gonna be my date!”
“Ohhhhh, thank you…for asking me.”
“Yes,” he hugs you then pushes you in Jungkook’s direction, “now go.”
Stumbling in front of Jungkook, he raises a finger to point between you and Taehyung’s retreating figure, “what’s going with you two?”
“Oh nothing.”
You honestly don’t have to explain yourself to him.
“What did you want,” you question, glancing at your watch like you’re so desperate to get home to your key lime pie.
“Oh,” he smooths down a strand of hair, “would you want to come with me to the opening? You know like a date? A plus one?”
You click your tongue, “Taehyung already asked me. I’m sorry.”
Even though you’re totally not sorry.
You see a flash of something wash over his features, but you don’t know what it was. Probably not used to getting turned down.
You hear him mumble Taehyung’s name and you realise that you’ve been standing there awkwardly. Saying goodnight, you begin to walk away from him when he calls out your name. Stopping with your hand on the silver handle, you curse and turn around, seeing him make his way to you.
“Then let’s have dinner, have you eaten yet?”
Crap.
“No, I haven’t,” not even trying to conceal the irritation in your voice.
“Then let’s eat, I can take you to this one restaurant, their steak is to die for. You love steak, right?”
Your stomach growls at the mention of steak and your heart clenches at the thought that he actually remembers what you like to eat. But you shake your head, burying that feeling.
“Yeah but my car is here.”
You find yourself following him into the parking lot.
“I’ll ask one of my drivers to take it to your apartment. Keys?”
“You know where I live?”
Your voice sounds so dumb when it came out and you want to slap yourself because obviously he would, he-
“You’re my employee Y/N.”
“Right, right.”
“Keys?”
He holds out his palm, you rummage through your bag and drop the keys into his hand. He beams at you as he unlocks his car.
“Get in, I’ll be back in a bit.”
Sluggishly, you open the passenger side door, the fresh scent that could only belong to a new car fills your nostrils. He always liked Mercedes. As you’re appreciating the interior, you suddenly acknowledge that you’re sitting in Jungkook’s car. What the fuck are you doing? It’s been five years and this man is still in your life. Twenty-two year old you is shaking her head right now. Pathetic Y/N. Just pathetic.
You can feel yourself panic, breath starting to get heavy. Calm Y/N, calm. Deep breaths. This is just dinner, it’s fine. Nothing else, just a boss and his employee having dinner at 10PM after working hours. Oh my god, how unprofessional of you Y/N? What makes him so different? Remember that guy you turned down from accounting? Jung Hoseok? Just because he asked to have dinner with you after hours, yet here you are, in Jeon Jungkook’s car. The very same guy who ruined you for guys like Jung Hoseok. What the fuck are-
“Alright,” you didn’t even notice the car door open until he spoke. He’s busy checking his rear-view mirror and starting up the car.
You stare out the window, trying not to think to much into the situation. This is just for the steak.
He revs his engine, and you think he’s going to reverse out of the parking space, but he continues to rev, and you turn your head to look at him, seeing him have one hand on the steering wheel while the other is on the gear, a smirk on his face as he watches your reaction.
You feel your stomach flutter, he probably remembers the time that you told him he looks hot while he drives. This time, in his grey three-piece suit, he looks even sexier. But would you admit that to him? Absolutely not.
After what was probably five minutes spent revving his engine to seemingly impress you, he drives out of the building’s parking lot, speeding along the road.
He keeps the radio off, probably thinking that you’re going to engage in conversation, but you keep your eyes on the road. Trying to keep steak on the brain.
Ten minutes later, you arrive at the swanky restaurant, taking a seat at the far back table in the corner. His choosing of course.
The people at the restaurant seem to know him well, if the way the head chef rushes out of the kitchen to present the menu to him is anything to go by.
“Not tonight’s special, just steak for me and the pretty lady.”
The chef bows and files into the kitchen, the other cooks following close behind.
You admire the restaurant’s gold and black interior, mostly couples, who chatter and laugh, around the two of you.
Your gaze travels to the man in front of you, seeing him already looking at you with his elbows rested on the table and his chin on his knuckles.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he sighs, “I just can’t believe that we’re here.”
You cock an eyebrow, tracing the rim of your wine glass with a finger, “where are we?”
“You know, here.Five years later, older and wiser, we’re both successful, sitting in a restaurant like this with fine wine.”
He lifts his glass in your direction and takes a sip, you chuckle.
“Sure you’re wiser, Jungkook?”
He gives you a defeated smile, “in business, maybe. In women, I’m hoping to be soon.”
You’re suddenly paranoid about the look he’s giving you. You open your mouth to ask him what he means but you’re cut off when the bubbly chef presents the steak. You smell it before you see it, jowls tingling at the scent.
“Jeon-ssi and his pretty lady,” he bows in front of you and you lift a hand to object but his sweet, crumbly smile makes you shut your mouth.
“He’s waiting to see what you think,” Jungkook whispers from across the table, already taking his third bite of the meat.
Picking up your fork and knife, you carve out a bite-sized piece and pop it into your mouth, taste buds tingling at the delectable taste.
“It’s absolutely delicious, thank you.”
He bows again and heads back to the kitchen.
“So, you like it,” Jungkook prods, proud smile on his face like he had prepared the food.
“I love it, thank you,” serotonin coursing through you due to the tasty food you’re eating.
He clears his throat, “so tell me about you and Taehyung?”
You stop mid-chew, “what about us?”
Honestly, you were expecting to ask him about your life and whatnot. But a man of his capabilities, he probably knows everything he needs and wants to know.
“I saw you two earlier. And you work closely at the gallery. It’s okay to have a few flings at work.”
You choke on the wine, “I keep my relationships strictly professional when it comes to the workplace. Less drama. I think I told you this before.”
“Yet here you are,” he chirps, “having dinner with your boss.”
You tuck your tongue in your cheek, your twenty-two-year-old self wagging a finger at you. I told you so.
You should’ve known, Jungkook doesn’t know limits. You have a good mind of leaving this restaurant right now and leaving Seoul for eternity. Why did you ever think you could have a decent conversation with him? His intentions always show themselves as he speaks.
“What do you want Jungkook?”
“A chance?”
“A chance for what?”
“To show you that I’m not who I was. That I’ve changed. That I’m not the same immature guy from college. I’m a man now.”
Did his voice just deepen at that last part?
This is what he wants, to lure you into his trap and break your heart a second time. You cannot give in to him. You will not.
Lifting your head to give him an answer, you’re met with two pleading, doe-eyes. The kind that takes you back five years ago, the kind that you fell in love with.
“Let’s see.”
And then the bunny grin, “is that a yes?”
You sigh, “I’ll see if you’ve changed for myself.”
Tucking into the steak again, his voice sounds too victorious, “I’ll prove it to you.”
-
Jungkook adjusts his shirt sleeves, turning to the side to check that his pants sit right. He’s nervous for tonight, his first solo project without his brother’s assistance. He’s even more nervous about the fact that you’ve given him a chance, not that he doubts his abilities to make you fall for him again. It’s just that women love him, they stick to him like glue and he hopes that you don’t take it the wrong way.
He has to be good to his clients and employees.
Sending Soojin a quick text, he lets her know that he’s on his way to pick her up.
He’s about to leave his house when he realizes that he hasn’t sprayed on any perfume. Running back up the stairs, he heads to his closet, choosing a fragrance that he thinks you might like then giving himself one last look in the mirror.
Show time.
-
Thanking everyone for their kind words, he receives tons of praise for the gallery as he enters, Soojin holding tightly onto his arm. He scans the crowd, trying to look past one of his elderly clients to find you.
“Want a drink, babe?”
He shakes his head, Soojin proceeding to the small bar set up near the entrance.
After five minutes of being stopped by every single person he passed, he spots you. White dress with your hair pinned up in a bun, pink lipgloss that looks like the natural shade of your lips when they’re swollen, the exact shade that reminds him of your lips slick with his saliva after a heated makeout session.
Adjusting his tie, he walks in your direction, seeing Taehyung standing next to you, also wearing white. Fuck. Did you two plan to match? And he’s wearing black. He stops to watch you from afar, seeing Taehyung lightly place an arm around your waist, giggling as you admire one of the pieces.
He walks back to the bar and orders a beer. It’s been a while since he’s felt like this for a woman, he feels so territorial, so possessive of you. It doesn’t even matter what that ass Taehyung does anyway. He’s the boss and you gave him a chance.
No one else.
Downing the beer, he sees Soojin saunter over to him.
“Hi babe. Let’s talk to a few more people shall we?”
Soojin puts her arm in his as they walk, he’s too pissed off to give a shit about anything else.
-
“I think that this one will sell first.”
“Nah. People like abstract. That one will.”
You follow Taehyung’s gaze, an ahh leaving your mouth in understanding.
“Don’t you think it’s weird that we’re both wearing white today,” you giggle.
“Well, you’re wearing a white dress and I’m wearing a white shirt. And you happen to be my date for the night. Totally not weird.”
You chuckle, taking a sip of your drink and following Taehyung to the next display. He’s fun company.
You’re about to comment when a squeal interrupts you.
“Taehyung!”
“Hi, Soojin.”
The woman, Soojin, is the one that was at your interview.
“Hey Y/N.”
The breathy whisper tickles your ear, and you turn around in shock, seeing Jungkook standing too close with a smirk on his face.
“Oh, hey Jungkook.”
He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you to his chest, your eyes widen in surprise, aware of the people around you.
“What are you doing?” You hold your palm up to his chest while the other balances your drink in your hand.
“Can’t I hold you like this?”
“What? No, you cannot.”
You squirm out of his grip, gaze flickering to the red patch on his white dress shirt. Red lipstick.
“You gave me a chance?”
“Yes I did,” you speak through gritted teeth, “but I didn’t say that we were together or anything. You can’t hold me like that.”
“You didn’t seem to mind when Taehyung did it. Are you together?”
“What? No,” you try to keep your composure, “what is your problem?”
His eyes burn into yours, anger evident in them, with your own rage consuming you. You should’ve known that Jungkook only had one intention when he asked for a chance. You probably have two completely different perspectives on what that could imply.
Soojin tugs at his arm, she looks between the two of you. Red lipstick stretching with her mouth as she gives you a half-hearted smile.
Your eyebrows raise in realization, he just wanted to fuck you. Like he doesn’t get enough.
You turn to walk in Taehyung’s direction but a hand around your wrist stops you from moving.
“Let go of me, Jungkook.”
“No.”
You whip your head around to stare at your hand, seeing his tattooed fingers curled around your wrist.
“Jungkook,” you stand in front of him so you’re toe to toe, “I said let go of me. I gave you a chance and you blew it. Now let go of my wrist.”
“How did I blow it?”
“By being yourself. You’re just a pathetic womanizer who uses money to get your way. Now let me go.”
He drops your hand and you walk away from him, Taehyung standing across the room, a confused look on his face.
As you’re walking, a figure tackles you. Working fast you spread his legs with your foot and grip his hand from around your back, twisting it and shoving him away from you. He yelps in pain.
“OW! What the fuck Y/N?!”
“Jimin?”
“What is wrong with you? Is this how you greet your friend when you see him after three months?”
You surge forward, throwing your arms around his shoulders and burying your face in his neck.
“I missed you. I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” He strokes your hair, “Jungkook saw your little show, so at least he knows not to mess with you.”
You chuckle, “c’mon I have to introduce you to someone.”
-
“So let me get this straight. He broke up with you, then fucked every single girl from your HR class?”
“And my Anatomy class!” Jimin adds, cheese strings slapping his chin as he takes a bite of the pizza.
“Mhm,” you suck some sauce off your thumb, “and he bragged about it to everyone. Including my friends.”
“So that shows that he didn’t regret it at all and he never actually loved Y/N,” Jimin speaks with his cheeks stuffed, nodding to you because you’ve had this discussion a thousand times.
Both you and Jimin wait for Taehyung’s response to all this. He pushes his glasses up, “and he said he didn’t want to be in a serious relationship at the time?”
“Committed,” Jimin corrects and you nod again.
“Honestly, from like, a guy’s perspective, no offense Jimin, maybe he knew that he couldn’t control his raging hormones? Maybe he didn’t want to hurt you by cheating on you, so he broke up with you to save all the heartbreak.”
“But I was still heartbroken in the end!”
“Yeah but, what if,” he crosses his legs and wipes his hands with a tissue, “you were meant to be together now?”
“You’re on to something, Tae.”
You look between Jimin and Taehyung, then spot the smirk on Jimin’s face.
“No. Jimin, if you bring up that fate bullshit one more time-“
“Let’s just listen to what Taehyung has to say!”
He clears his throat, “I’m just saying. I know he sleeps around a lot and I’m not trying to justify any of his actions. But like what if he really meant what he said? About proving to you that he’s changed?”
“That doesn’t even matter. Soojin was his date for the night and I saw lipstick on his shirt!”
Taehyung chuckles, then points to a red stain on his white shirt, not sauce. Red lipstick.
“She gets it on everyone. If you’re wearing literally any light color, you’re doomed if she’s anywhere near you. Plus, I haven’t seen him with her since the day of your interview.”
“But, but,” your eyes search the lounge, “that day! At my interview! It looked like they just fucked before I entered the room!”
“Okay maybe they are fucking but maybe he won’t now that you’re in the picture.”
You give him a wary look, still unwilling to accept whatever he’s saying.
“What exactly did you say to him today? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like that. He looked so angry, yet sad at the same time…”
You gather the empty pizza boxes, “I told him that he blew his chance.”
“How?”
“What?”
“How did he blow his chance idiot???” Jimin yells into your ear, completely breaking your train of thought.
“Fuck Jimin, can a bitch think?”
“No.”
You roll your eyes and face the couch where Taehyung sits again, “he, like, put his arm around my waist. And when I tried to push him away, he said that I didn’t have a problem when you did it.”
Taehyung eyes widen.
“Then when I tried to walk away from him, he gripped my wrist, like literally everyone around us was staring! Even Soojin was there! I just didn’t like that he thinks he can do whatever he wants just because I agreed to giving him a chance.”
Taehyung and Jimin sigh in unison.
“Shouldn’t that tell you something, if he doesn’t care who’s around and he doesn’t mind being seen with you? Honestly, the only woman I’ve seen him with in public was Soojin, and that’s because she’s his assistant, no one will really suspect anything.”
“Yes but-“
“I think you gave up too quickly.”
“What?” Your eyes bug out of your head, and you hear Jimin snigger from beside you, collapsing onto the rug, sandy blonde hair covering his face.
“What else did you tell him?”
You try to ignore Jimin’s wails of laughter, “I told him that he blew his chance by being himself. And that he’s a pathetic womanizer…something like that.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah, you really deflated his ego,” Jimin wipes a tear from the corner of his eye.
“I think you should shut the fuck up Jimin. Taehyung, it isn’t my job to inflate his ego and I only spoke the truth,” you shrug.
“Yeah, but you gave up too easily. He didn’t even get a proper chance, the poor guy.”
You open your mouth to counter, but he cuts you off.
“It’s up to you, but I think you should speak to him on Monday.”
“What should I say?”
He shrugs, “just think about everything. From the very beginning. Think about how he said he’ll prove to you that he’s changed and you didn’t even give him twenty-four hours before you gave up.”
A few minutes pass as you take his words in.
“Up to you, of course.”
Maybe you were a little harsh.
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Monday rolls by and after thinking it through literally the entire weekend, you decided that the next time you see Jungkook, you’ll talk to him and apologize for blowing him off but you won’t apologize for the way you reacted when he held you like that. You aren’t one of his hook ups.
You sit at your desk, answering a few emails and browsing the sales that took place after the gallery opening, Taehyung pops into your office, whispering as he goes.
“He’s here, if you wanna…”
“I’ll just wait for him to come here, he’ll definitely pay me a visit.”
Nodding, he exits the room and you take the opportunity to touch up your lipstick before Jungkook enters.
Five minutes turn into ten into twenty into thirty minutes waiting for him to walk into your office. You get restless and decide to take your lunch break now.
Walking down the small hallway, you see Taehyung and Namjoon, who look like they’re deep in conversation as they stare at the computer screen.
“Hey guys.”
“Hey.”
You lean in close to Taehyung, “where’s Jungkook?”
“He didn’t come to see you?”
You shake your head.
“Oh, he left about ten minutes ago.”
Oh.
“Okay, I’m gonna head out for lunch.”
Walking out the double doors, you can’t help but think that it’s odd that he didn’t come to see you. The one week you spent working at Euphoria was filled with him pestering you at any chance he can get.
You’ll just wait for tomorrow.
-
The week is over, and you didn’t see Jungkook once, he always leaves before you get to see him. Work is getting even more stressful with thousands of submissions from artists looking for representation. Taehyung and Namjoon deal with the hectic parts of it but you still have to find a way to ensure that each artist is dealt with when it comes to showcasing their work.
It’s two weeks later when you finally see him, but his behavior has you feeling a little edgy.
You were talking to Namjoon about the next exhibition when you see him enter, he nods to everyone but completely ignores you and you can’t help but feel a little angry at that. He’s pretending that you don’t exist because he did something wrong? That can’t be right.
Maybe what you said to him that day really hit a sore spot?
You huff, walking over to him, ponytail swishing behind you as your heels click with each step.
“Hey Jungkook.”
He keeps his eyes on some papers as he stands at the reception desk, “Hello Y/N.”
“How are you?”
“Superb. And you?”
“Good.”
“Is there anything I can help you with?”
“Yes,” you clear you throat, “you can start by telling me why you’ve been avoiding him since the opening.”
He drops his pen, eyes still not meeting yours, “why don’t you tell me? Hmm?”
“I-“
“Or you can’t because you’re you, right? So entitled, such a goody two shoes, never makes any mistakes.”
His eyes finally bore into yours and you feel your cheeks heat, grimacing at his tone.
“What are you talking about? You have no right to be angry with me.”
“I have no right?” He takes a step forward so he’s towering over you, you gulp, “I asked for a chance and you took the first opportunity to call it a day. I told you that I’ll prove to you that I’ve changed. Then you insult me, you don’t even know me anymore just like I don’t know you.”
You open your mouth to speak, even though you have no idea what will come out, but he speaks before you.
“I know that I’ve fucked up in the past but I’m not the same guy anymore Y/N.”
“You sure?” You cock an eyebrow and he raises his own in question.
“Literally everyone knows that you sleep around.”
“Yes I do, I sleep around, I fuck who I want whenever I want. But I’ve never cheated in my entire life. And the last time I actually wanted a relationship was with you.”
His eyes soften as he continues, you can feel the blood rush to your ears, slowly slipping under his hold that seems so intoxicating.
“I know that you’re guarded, I know that you’re finding it hard to trust me again but I promise, none of the women I’ve been with ever came close to you,” he shakes his head, “and I’m not just saying that, I mean it.”
He lifts his hand to hold your shoulder but lets it fall to his side.
“Would you mind giving me another chance?”
You bite your lip in contemplation, his beady doe-eyes patiently waiting for your answer. You did feel guilty after that night, not only because of the talk you had with Taehyung, but because you regretted saying those things to him as soon as it left your lips.
He can sense your hesitation and he sighs, taking a step away from and you suddenly feel a chill run down your spine.
“I’m leaving for Tokyo tomorrow, for a week before the next exhibition. I’m going alone but if you want,” his eyes search yours, “you can come with. Bring your work along.”
He gathers his files and walks out, leaving you a little lightheaded with his scent still lingering around and his words still nudging into your heart.
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You pace around your room, phone in hand. It’s easy for you to just call and tell him that you’ll go with him but at the same time, it isn’t. Someone who caused you years of heartache, is asking for another chance. Can you risk it? Are you willing to take that chance?
Thinking of what Taehyung and Jimin had kept saying, you groan, flopping down on your bed as you chew on your lip. Maybe it was meant for you to be together now? When you’re older and more experienced. If you didn’t break up all those years ago, he would’ve probably been bored of you now if not earlier.
Sitting up and folding your legs under your body, you make up your mind.
He answers after the third ring and suddenly, you completely forget the reason why you dialled his number in the first place.
“Hello?”
You shut your eyes, “hey, it’s me.”
“Y/N?”
“Yeah…”
You hear his clear chuckle filter through the speaker, causing your stomach to do backflips.
“Made up your mind?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“And…I’ll come with,” you twiddle with a strand of hair.
“Really?”
You can literally hear the happiness in his voice, and it makes you smile too.
“Yes.”
“Okay, I’ll book your ticket and fetch you tomorrow at 3PM, okay?”
“Okay.”
“God, thank you Y/N.”
“For?”
“For giving me another chance, even though I don’t deserve it.”
You roll your eyes, still smiling, “bye Jungkook.”
“Bye Y/N~”
Tossing your phone on the bed, you jump and down, trying to let out the excitement and nerves. Then you smooth your hands down your nightgown, inhaling deeply.
You hope you aren’t making a terrible mistake.
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By the time you arrive and get settled in at the hotel, it’s already dinner time and Jungkook shoots you a text to inform you that he’ll meet you downstairs, so you can eat together. You’re a little nervous, no, you’re extremely nervous and you have no idea what to wear to dinner, so you opt for a black strappy dress that sits mid-thigh.
Jungkook’s room is right next to yours, so when you finally leave your room, you see him doing the same and he does a double take, eyes sweeping over your figure, making you blush as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. He was never good at hiding his emotions.
He pokes out his elbow for you to shove your hand into the small gap, smiling at him as you wait for the elevator.
“You look amazing, Y/N.”
“Thank you,” you admire his black dress pants and shirt tucked in, sticking to his slim waist, “you too.”
“Thanks,” he ushers you into the elevator, palm at the small of your back.
It’s quiet as you go down, watching the numbers change on the small screen, waiting for 1 to appear. The elevator doors open with a ding and he takes your hand in his again, walking along the glossy floors as you take the turn in through the restaurant, warm air hitting your face while he chats to the hostess.
“Right this way,” you follow her as she takes you to a seat right at the back of the restaurant, a cozy table with Jeon printed on a white card.
“We’ll be with you shortly,” she bows and makes her way back to the front.
Jungkook pulls your chair out for you and pushes it in as you sit, he takes the seat opposite you.
You find yourself in a similar position to the other night, except you’re in much fancier clothes at a fancier restaurant and you’re aren’t having an internal debate as you watch the man in front of you.
“Let’s order, then we can talk about whatever you want,” he smiles.
“Whatever Iwant?”
He nods, “whatever you want.”
“What if you don’t like what I talk about?” You poke, the yellow lighting making a sunset form in his eyes as he leans forward.
“I’ll still let you talk,” he shrugs, gesturing to the menu in front of you.
You order and eat, and it’s quiet again, the same recurring quiet that settles between the two of you. Glancing at him, you see he’s already watching you.
“What?”
“I’m waiting for you to talk.”
“Oh,” you take a sip of your drink, “well I do have a lot of things I want to ask you.”
“Go ahead.”
You think about your conversation the other day, the one that was cut short.
“What made you change your mind about joining your father’s business?”
He purses his lips, takes a swig of his own drink then wipes his mouth.
“I felt like it was the right thing to do.”
“And abandon your dreams?”
“I agreed to go to business school all those years ago for a reason, Y/N,” his eyes meet yours, “and I didn’t abandon my dreams.”
You place your arms on the table and lean forward, “really?”
“Yeah.”
“You did tell me that you opened the gallery to sell other’s art, even if you can’t sell yours. When that was your dream, to let the world appreciate the emotion that spills in the form of color on a canvas.”
There’s a glint in his eyes, not the kind you see every day, but a different one. And you realize that you remembered his words after all these years, like he whispered them to you just yesterday.
“Yeah,” he murmurs, gaze still piercing into yours and you feel a throb in your abdomen as his tongue runs over his lower lip.
“I will, when the time is right.”
“No better time than now,” you shrug.
“Yes, no better time than now,” he repeats, and you see the smirk form on his face, the hidden implication becoming clear to you.
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The hostess had come to your table to inform you that the restaurant will be closing soon, and you’re shocked when you notice that it’s after midnight, you had spent hours chatting to Jungkook about the past, the future and Euphoria.
You’re a little buzzed from the champagne but you manage to make it to your room door, Jungkook’s arm wrapped around your waist as yours is curled around his neck, no objections from you this time.
You lean on the doorframe, giving Jungkook a giddy smile as he opens his door, the feelings that were dulled by grey clouds and chilly weather are now being refreshed with the rain and sunlight, making the corners of your mouth stretch until it hurts.
“Goodnight, Y/N,” he murmurs, shooting you a wink that makes you clench your thighs together. God, how long has it been since you last got laid?
“Aren’t you gonna come in,” you’re hearing yourself say, pointing to your bed. Maybe you’re NOT a little buzzed.
He walks over to you, and you straighten your posture, breath coming out in pants.
“Maybe some other time,” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.
“Goodnight Y/N,” he dips his head and you shut your eyes, puckering your lips only for him to kiss the corner of your mouth, a bewildered look on your face.
He places his hand on your back again and gives you a gentle shove, you stumble into your room. He grabs the handle of the door and pulls it shut behind you.
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For his own sanity.
Unbuttoning his shirt, he flings it on the floor, chest heaving as he lays on his back, hands coming to remove his belt.
That was probably the hardest thing he has ever done in his entire life. His dick is the hardest thing he’s ever seen in his entire life as it springs from his underwear.
Throwing his head back against the soft pillows, he shuts his eyes, thinking of your sweet smile, your laughter playing in his head like a broken record.
Curling his fingers around his shaft, he hisses as he pumps his length, precum smearing everywhere as he thrusts into his hand, the curve of your waist flashing behind his lids, the sound of his name escaping your lips filling his ears. He fists his dick erratically, twisting around his head as he digs his teeth into his lower lip, imagining it was your tight pussy instead of his hand, warm walls gripping him like a vice.
He cries out your name, hips lifting of the bed as he fucks into his fist, heat shooting through his body as his dick twitches, trying to remember the way your tight pussy felt. Oh, the first time, it felt like heaven and it just kept getting better each time.
With a few more pumps, he cums all over his stomach and hand, curses filling the air as he cracks his eyes open, your face the only thing enshrouding his mind.
He doesn’t think he’s ever cum this hard and fast from just his hand.
Cleaning himself up, the thought of you never slipping, he can’t help but feel like he’s falling for you again. The way you both just click in ways he never did with anyone else. He was a dumb asshole for letting you go all those years ago. But now he knows for sure.
He cares about you, he wants you to be his, he wants you more than anything in the world.
As he catches sight of himself in the bathroom mirror, the upper part of his body a bright pink, he knows he can’t fuck this up.
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The next morning, you decide to do a little shopping to pass your time. Jungkook had informed you that he’ll be extremely busy this morning as he has to meet with a few clients and business partners. Obviously, your schedule here doesn’t revolve around him, you also want to do a little sightseeing of your own.
After hours of shopping and squeezing your wallet, you take a break on the bench in front of a pretty water fountain near the hotel, soaking in the sunlight as butterflies float around you, unfamiliar voices filling the silence.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
You lift your head to stare at the man with the raspy voice, but the sun blinds you.
“Yeah,” you reply as he sits down next to you.
You clutch your purse closer to you and it seems like he notices your action, a chuckle, deep and throaty, reaches your ears.
“I come in peace,” he laughs and you finally turn your head to look at him.
Blond hair, pushed back, making it easier for you to notice two cat-like eyes blinking back at you, pink lips set in a pout, he speaks again, and you realize that it’s just the way they’re molded, he isn’t pouting. He’s…attractive.
“You’re not from here,” he inquires, and you think that a man with such soft features couldn’t possible be a murderer, right?
“No, you?”
“Nah, Seoul, actually.”
“I work there,” you add, keeping your eyes on the trickling water.
“So, you’re here on holiday?”
“Guess so.”
You see him nod from your periphery and you think he’s done but he continues to speak.
“I’m actually here for some business, I’m an online art curator.”
That catches your attention.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Kind of like-“
“I know what that is, I work in an art gallery.”
He whips his head to look at you and you do the same, the sun making his unbelievably clear skin glow.
“Really?”
You nod, and he thrusts his hand in your direction.
“Min Yoongi.”
You give him your name and he smiles, eyes not leaving yours.
“So which gallery do you work for?”
“Euphoria Gallery.”
“In Seoul?”
“Yeah,” you respond, seeing a quizzical look appear on his face so you continue, “it opened a few weeks ago.”
“Ahhh,” his eyes widen a little in understanding, “I haven’t been to Seoul in over two months.”
It’s silent for a while and you think he might be done with his interrogation but obviously he isn’t.
“So what do you do there?”
You look at him again, a serious look on his face and you think you might answer a few more before you head back to the hotel.
“I’m actually the Marketing Manager.”
“Oh, so you’re actually more on the business side.”
“Guess you can say that.”
You pat your thighs then stand, carrying all your shopping bags in one hand while the other rummages through your purse for your phone.
“You’re staying at this hotel?”
You nod politely at the inquisitive man.
“Me too,” he springs up from the bench, the motion causing you to jump back a bit and drop a few of your bags.
He bends down to pick them up and you do the same, your fingers brushing each other, and you blush from the proximity, his woody scent surrounding you.
“Let me help you.”
“I’m fine.”
“These are heavy,” he hooks a few into his left hand and you watch his muscles flex as he stands up to his full height.
“Okay,” you shrug, letting him follow you back to the hotel but before you can head to the elevators, something catches your eye and you stop walking, the blond behind you huffing as he bumps into your back.
“I’m sorry, could you just wait for a minute.”
He nods, sitting down on the couches not too far away.
Poking your head around the corner, you see Jungkook with his side leaning on a counter, smile in place as he talks to a tall woman, she giggles and flicks her hair over her shoulder, swaying over the small space as he places his hand on her neck, fiddling with her necklace.
You swallow, feeling your throat constrict, tears blurring your vision. Backing away from the wall, the terrifying thought that this was all a mistake crosses your mind. Your back hits something warm and hard and you turn around to see the man from earlier, your shopping bags still in hand.
“Are you okay?”
You blink away the tears, smiling at him, “yeah uhm…”
You look up at him again; he’s damn good-looking, just your type and helpful. His job is even in the same field as yours. You aren’t going to hold back because of an asshole like Jungkook anymore, he can take his chance and stick it.
“I’m gonna take these up,” you struggle to take them in both your hands, “if you want, we can chat a little about the gallery.”
His eyebrows raise, gums being exposed as he smiles, “yeah sure sure. I’ll wait here for you.”
He sits down on the couch again and you smile, running your hand along his back as you make your way to the elevators, “see you in bit Yoongi.”
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You’re trying to focus on what Yoongi’s saying but your mind keeps taking you back to Jungkook and how you fell for him yet again, how you’re hurting yet again. You should’ve known that it won’t be easy for him to just ditch his shitty ways, you hold back a sob.
“So, I told him that I can’t take his offer because I’m actually starting a website-“
Yoongi seems interesting, but your eyes keep travelling to his arms down to the tips of his fingers. He has such pretty fingers to go with his muscular arms, Rolex moving with his hand as they track his words. It seems like you’re looking for anything to distract you from the dick that is Jungkook.
“Y/N?”
You lift your head to see Jungkook standing near the couches where you and Yoongi sit, he has one hand behind his back and you give him a clueless smile.
“Oh, hey Jungkook. This is Yoongi, he’s an art curator.” You let your knee brush against Yoongi’s, seeing Jungkook’s gaze follow the movement.
Yoongi stands to shake Jungkook’s hand, “nice to meet you Jungkook.”
Jungkook gives him a discerning look, then smiles and takes the seat next to him.
“So, you’re an art curator? Y/N here must’ve told you about the new gallery I’ve just opened.”
You roll your eyes at his subtle flex.
“I actually handle a website based on my job.”
Jungkook nods, “maybe you should visit us in Seoul…”
And just like that, Jungkook hijacks your conversation with Yoongi while you sit slack-jawed, both men completely disregarding you, Yoongi even turning his back to you as he talks to Jungkook. Jungkook even gets his number before you and soon, he’s waving goodbyes to the both of you, while you sulk.
Jungkook sighs, “good man. So, you wanna get lunch?”
“Fuck no.” Rushing to the elevators, you turn around to see Jungkook hot on your heels, pushing the elevator button like the side character in a horror movie, you curse when you feel Jungkook behind you.
“Running away from me, Y/N?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
The elevator dings and you walk in, he presses the button for your floor before you can.
“I saw you.”
“Saw me what?”
You look past him and into the elevator mirror, seeing him hold something under his coat, behind his back.
“Cut the crap, Jungkook. You only want to fuck me.”
“Y/N,” he sighs, “I told you this before-“
“I saw you with that lady, you were laughing with her and and touching her!” You feel the lump build in your throat again as you watch the look of surprise on his face.
After a few minutes, you reach your floor and he grips your wrist, dragging you to his room while you wriggle in his hold.
“Jungkook!”
“Calm down, Y/N,” he yells over your cries, and you have no choice but to follow him in his strong hold, then you see he’s moved the thing that he’s been holding to his front, tucked into his coat. Fuck. What if it’s a gun and he plans on killing you.
He enters the code for his room and pulls you inside, tears painting your cheeks.
“The lady you saw,” he begins, kicking off his shoes then sitting on his bed as he produces a blue velvet box, about the size of a dinner plate, “she’s a jeweller, I called her here. She was showing me all different kinds, but none were to my liking but then I noticed the design that she was wearing and I liked it.”
He opens the box, revealing a white gold necklace, glinting in his bedroom light.
Pulling it out of the box, he holds it in his hands delicately as he walks over to you, standing behind you as he places it on your neck.
“It was for you, Y/N. And I meant it when I said that I changed.”
You’re speechless, looking down to admire the piece of jewellery with diamonds dotting the knots at the centre. Turning around to look at him, he has an exhausted look on his face, one that makes you feel guilty.
“It’s beautiful,” you can’t keep your eyes off of it.
“Beautiful jewelry for a beautiful woman like you,” he pinches your chin to lift your head up so you’re looking at him, seeing the exhausted look replaced by something fond.
“Things don’t buy my love,” you quip and he hangs his head to laugh.
“I know, but I was hoping that this could sort of be like a promise ring? In the form of a necklace? I’m not good with these things.”
“A promise ring?” You giggle, eyes softening at the way he rubs his neck, reminding you of the boy you fell in love with.
“Y/N I am sorry, but you have to trust me, please. I won’t hurt you again.”
You nod, “I’m sorry too. For not believing you.”
“You don’t ever have to be sorry, I fucked up,” he takes your hands in his, placing two sweet kisses on the backs of your hands.
Taking a step forward, your body presses to his as he reaches down to run an index finger down the side of your face, sending tingles up your spine.
Dipping his head, his minty breath fans across your face, making you lick your lips in anticipation. Finally, he closes the gap, pressing his lips to yours as his hands cradle your face. You place your palms on his chest, pushing him so the backs of his knees hit the bed, tumbling down with you on top of him.
Licking into his mouth, his hands travel down your back and to your ass, squeezing the flesh and making you moan into his mouth as his tongue slides along yours.
“I want you,” you pant, kissing up his neck and sucking the soft skin under his ear, remembering all the spots that gets him going.
He grips your hips, pressing you onto him so you can feel his throbbing member against your core.
“Jungkook,” you whine.
In one swift movement, he flips you over, ridding himself of his coat, shirt and pants while you work on removing your dress and bra.
Once he gets his eyes on your almost-naked body, he groans, his dick twitching in its confines as he takes in the swell of your breasts, greedily palming them as he bends down to take one of your erect nipples into his mouth, slurping noisily as he flicks his tongue, thumb rubbing over the other nipple, making you keen into his touch. They did get bigger.
Reaching down, you’re just as greedy as you palm him through his boxer briefs, humming against your nipple, making your back arch off the bed. With one last bite to your nipple that has you gripping his hair, he comes up to place a searing kiss on your lips, your body feeling hot as arousal pools between your legs.
“Jungkook,” you whisper against his lips, “need you.”
“Yeah?” He searches your eyes, almost urgently, “need me inside you?”
You nod, biting your lip at his words, “wanna cum around your cock.”
His eyebrows raise, “someone’s got a dirty mouth,” he licks a hot stripe up your throat to your lips, “I like it. Makes me want to fuck you senseless.”
You whine, trying to rub your thighs together for some friction but his body between your legs restricts any movement. His eyes flicker to the wet spot growing on your panties and he dips his hand down, rubbing you through the drenched material, hissing when he feels how wet you are.
“Fuck, you’re fucking soaked for me. Want my cock so bad hmm?”
You nod, the cool necklace around your neck digging into the warmth of your body.
“Let me hear how bad you want my cock,” he dips his hand into your panties, running two fingers along your folds then circling your clit, moving faster as each second passes.
You moan, gripping his shoulders as you rock against his hand, he chuckles as he watches your fucked out expression.
“I said let me hear you.”
He pushes two fingers into you at once, making you dig you nails into his skin as his fingers massage your walls, “hmmf wanna c-cum so b-bad around y-ah!”
He curls his fingers, hitting the exact spot that has you twitching under him, you open your eyes to see him smirking down at you.
“C’mon baby, tell me what you want,” he moves his fingers in and out, hooking them and rubbing the pads against that spot that has you a blubbering mess.
“Cock! Want your cock so bad!” You cry, moving your hips in tandem with him movements, the pressure building as you feel your high so close.
Gripping his wrist, you throw your head back and yell his name only for him to pull his fingers out, you whine at the loss, your high was so close.
You watch him pop his fingers into his mouth, groaning in pleasure, “you taste even better.”
“Jungkook, please.”
He removes the last piece of clothing from both your bodies, leaving the necklace on as he leans down to hover over you, pressing just the right amount of weight onto you that has you groaning and gripping his shoulders again.
“You wanted to cum around my cock?” You feel him run the head of his dick along your folds, tapping it against your clit, making you jolt under him.
“Yes,” you whisper, loving the way his muscular chest presses against your soft mounds.
With no warning at all, he pushes into you, dropping his head to your neck as he bottoms out, giving you time to adjust to his girthy length. With a drawn-out groan, he pulls out of you, only to slam back in, knocking the air from your lungs.
“Does that feel good?” He whispers into your ear, pulling the lobe between his teeth, making you bite into his shoulder from how good his cock dragging in and out of you feels.
“Yeah,” you whimper.
“Yeah? You like taking my cock like this?”
He pulls out of you, sitting up against the headboard and pulling you onto his lap, lifting your hips to position you over his dick, he slams into you as you steady yourself.
“Or like this,” lifting his hips off the bed, he thrusts into you, the new position has him reaching new depths and pressing into that sweet spot.
“Fuck Jungkook, fuck me any way you want,” you yell, pleasure consuming you as he pistons his hips, gripping your waist as he fucks you open.
“Yeah? Any way I want?”
You nod, eyes shut as you throw your head back, exposing your neck to him. He wraps a hand around your throat, not applying any pressure but pushing you flat onto the bed with his other hand.
Curling his hand around your thigh, he throws your leg over his shoulder, repeating the action with your other leg as he lets your body fold in half, wrapping both his hands around your throat as he watches his dick move in and out of your tight hole.
Your eyes roll back from the new position, feeling yourself clench around him as he sets a ruthless pace, drawing his hips back and slapping back into you, skin on skin, squelching and low groans filling the air.
“Like this? Yeah? Fuck you’re so tight. You gonna cum?”
Whining, you place your hands around the backs of your knees, holding your legs up as he starts to squeeze around your throat, your boobs bouncing with each thrust, necklace moving around this way and that. He presses his fingers into the sides of your throat, making you feel lightheaded as his cock continues to rub against your walls, hitting that sweet spot relentlessly, feeling your body erupt in a wave of tingles as your orgasm washes over you, mouth open in a silent moan, you hear a string of curses leave his lips as his own high takes over him, shooting hot ropes into you as you twitch under him.
You open your eyes to take in his expression of pure bliss, heart racing even more at the sight.
Letting go of your throat, he captures your lips in another intense kiss, smoothing your sweaty strands away from your face as he pulls out of you, another whine mingling with his breath, feeling the hot liquid leak out of you.
He lays down next to you, pulling you into him as he studies your face. You break the silence first.
“That was-“
“I love you,” he interrupts.
You blink at him not quite comprehending what he just said but he repeats it, placing kisses all over your face as he chants the words.
“I love you Y/N, so much. You’re the only one for me. I’m going to marry you soon.”
He snuggles into your chest and that last sentence leaves you a little breathless, even more breathless than before. You decide to surrender yourself to him, no hesitation, no ifs or buts. Because it feels right, both your heart and mind are in agreement; it feels right.
Running your fingers through the dark strands of his hair, he lifts his head to stare at you, his arms secured around your back, warm breath hitting your chest, big doe eyes that you could never, ever hate, even if you wanted to, blinking up at you.
“I love you too.”
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a/n: feedback is appreciated.
⤺Masterlist | Send a request here.
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taglist: @ggukkieland @moonchild1
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chateautae · 6 months ago
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high-class | masterlist.
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from the original parent story ‘maybe i do’ comes ‘high-class’; a spin-off series detailing the fateful love lives of the seven most prestigious CEO’s in seoul.
a/n : here’s the much requested ‘maybe i do’ au turned series for taehyung’s ceo friends, i hope you all like it 🥺, will be updated as i upload !
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« IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER : » 
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『 K I M  T A E H Y U N G 』
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maybe i do (m). (series)
genre : arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, smut, fluff, angst
— “maybe you love each other, maybe you don’t. when a deal between your fathers leaves you forcefully wedding kim taehyung, arguably seoul’s most powerful CEO, you’re prepared for a loveless marriage of eternal regret and unhappiness. but maybe, it doesn’t turn out that way after all.”
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『 J E O N  J U N G K O O K 』
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to turn a bad thing good (m).
genre : arranged marriage!au, ceo!jungkook, fwb!au (?), s2l!au, smut, fluff, angst
— “jungkook’s drunken one night stand goes awry when he comes to learn not only is he being forced into an arranged marriage, but it’s to the very girl he abandoned that night—and things get a lot more complicated when you’re the best hookup he’s ever had.”
» coming soon
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『 K I M  S E O K J I N 』
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blueberry muffins (m).
genre : office!au, ceo!jin, s2l!au, smut, fluff
— “kim seokjin has a photographic memory that allows him to remember every face in his company. but upon discovering who steals all his blueberry muffins every week, he never once remembers seeing you.”
» coming soon
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『 K I M  N A M J O O N 』
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at a crossroads (m).
genre : arranged marriage!au, established relationship!au, smut, fluff
— “kim namjoon’s arranged marriage has always meant very little to him, but what happens when his wife must become his secretary after losing her job, and things become much closer than he ever expected?” 
» coming soon
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『 P A R K  J I M I N 』  
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honor-bound (m).
genre : arranged marriaged!au, ceo!jimin, childhood enemies to lovers!au, smut, fluff, angst
— “when park jimin finds out he must marry you, his childhood enemy turned uncontrollable heiress, and is also required to re-integrate you into the business scene, he’s quick to dismiss his duties. but it’s not long before being with you turns into much more than an obligation.”
» coming soon
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『 J U N G  H O S E O K 』  
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all mine (m).
genre : ceo!hoseok, bartender!reader, co-workers to lovers!au, smut, fluff, slight angst
— “jung hoseok is the owner of all things good; CEO of the most infamous clubs across Korea, copious amounts of alcohol and heart-pumping music. but the one thing he can never seem to be the owner of is your heart, and he’ll keep trying until he has it all.”
» coming soon
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『 M I N  Y O O N G I 』
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if it’s you (m).
genre : ceo!yoongi, oc!reader, childhood friends to lovers!au, smut, fluff, angst
— “love has never been on min yoongi’s agenda, especially with his taxing position leading his father’s architecture company in america. whenever it came to his little sister’s best friend, however, there was always something that made him want to try.”
» coming soon
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2K notes · View notes
xpeachesncream · 5 months ago
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bands | masterlist
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SERIES RELEASE DATE: 2/20/21
summary: jeon jungkook has it all: the looks, the fame, the money, the women. being considered the sexiest man in the industry, he finds no complaints about the way his life is going nor does he find any reason to apologize for the way he approaches it. he is a force to be reckoned with - until he meets you. 
pairing: stripper!reader x idol!jjk
genre: strip club/nightlife au, post grad au | fluff, angst, smut
warnings: unprotected sex (protection is your friend!), oral sex, hickeys, dirty talk, teasing, making out, straddling, dry humping, fingering, hair pulling, breast play, big dick/size kink, cum eating, creampie, possessiveness, ass slapping, jealousy, insecurities, cussing/mature language, toxic relationships, alcohol consumption, drug use, verbal/physical abuse, club/bar scenes, unrequited love kind of stuffs, etc. (individual warnings for each chapter will be included)
author’s note: so, i originally wrote this on my wattpad account with steph curry as the main character a couple of years ago. i want to rewrite this and bring it back to life with jungkook as the main and make it a little more realistic, so stay tuned for this ride, ya’ll! *please, please, please know that this is purely fictional and was created out of imaginary ideas. this is not a real portrayal of any of the characters involved. this fic is a little heavy on the nightclub scene and may include some verbal/physical abuse and drug use, so if you are triggered, please do not continue on. i apologize in advance. i do not condone verbal/physical abuse in any way possible.
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teaser/intro
one
two
three
four
five
six
seven
eight
nine
ten
eleven
twelve
thirteen
fourteen
fifteen
sixteen
seventeen
eighteen
nineteen
twenty
twenty-one (final)
↳ yours. (collection of bands drabbles)
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kookingtae · 2 months ago
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Incoming: Elite Chatboy (pt. 1)
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pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4
→ pairing: sex chat worker jungkook x reader
→ genre: text au (smau without the social media), smut, humor
→ scenario: welcome to Elite Chatroom, a sex chat company with a wide variety of services such as text messaging, phone call, and video chat. you signed up online for the most basic text service plan not knowing what to expect, but you certainly didn’t think you’d end up actually liking the man behind the screen.
→ warning: sexting, professional dom jungkook, teasing bratty sub reader, crack humor amidst explicit dirty talk, mutual masturbation, degradation, praise kink. mentions of: size kink, creampie, cum tasting (reader), light pain kink.
→ a/n: this is another one of my works that is being reposted from a deactivated blog of mine, so again, if you’ve seen this before no u haven’t <3 below the cut is a whole session so it’s a bit longer than a typical text au part, but regardless i hope you enjoy! i have all the background info for this au mapped out as well so if u have any questions please don’t hesitate to ask :)
→ note: his contact name in the first two parts is a typo!! it’s supposed to say Elite Chatroom: Jungkook instead of just Jungkook rip
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1K notes · View notes
bloomsuga · 10 months ago
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➳ CLUELESS
╰ your friends’ annual halloween bash had all the makings of a true rager: good food, strong drinks, fun games... and just a dash of murder
:: inspired by the popular boardgame “clue” ::
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pairing: reader x ???
genre: smau, crack horror, fluff, smut
status: completed
a/n: it’s time for another chaotic halloween au and this one’s interactive, y’all!! some parts will contain choices that effect the end of the story and the romantic pairing, so stay sharp!! 👀🔍
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🔍 part one - profiles
🔍 part two - skeleton peepees
🔍 part three - quite discheesed
🔍 part four - simp alert
🔍 part five - lookin kinda sus
🔍 part six - horny disease
🔍 part seven - knife kink
🔍 part eight - redrum (m)
🔍 part nine - throuple
🔍 part ten - bonus/epilogue
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1K notes · View notes
cutechim · 8 months ago
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too close|jjk
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summary. your husband lives life a little too close to the edge. and you’re sick of it.
pairing. wife!reader x boxer!jungkook (ft. ex boyfriend!namjoon)
genre. expecting parents au, rival gang au (implied)|angst
word count. 1.4k
warnings.  (rating: mature) this is pure angst, mentions of violence, blood, offensive language, trash talk, jk has a bad temper in the ring (but he’s soft with his wife), namjoon is a big asshole in this, currently unedited sorry!
notes. based on a request by @bratkook​ from this prompt list (#15)! hope you like it jlin! once again, i tweaked the dialogue a little 😅 more of this universe here!
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When Jungkook comes to, all he can remember is rage.
Pure, unadulterated, white-hot rage, the kind that seeps down into your bones, seething and festering until it’s released in the most catastrophic of manners.
His name, spoken in your silky-sweet voice, is what he becomes aware of next, and the sound is distinct even amidst the fuzzy haze enveloping him.
“Why isn’t he getting up?” you’re repeating, each iteration more desperate than the last. “Yoongi, why isn’t he getting up?”
The overhead fluorescent light is blinding him, for one. His limbs feel detached from his body, his head heavy and limp as it weighs down his neck. He can’t actually remember where he is; it’s a gut feeling, years of experience that have attuned his senses, that tell him he’s still in the ring.
And the way his ears are ringing, how he can feel his pulse pounding in his head—it isn’t an unfamiliar sensation. Always unpleasant, but not unfamiliar.
“I’m fine, coach,” he says groggily, blindly reaching out for the blur in front of his face, presumably Yoongi’s hand. “Help me up.”
“Stay there, kid,” Yoongi barks. “He hit you real hard.”
He—Kim Namjoon.
Fuck, he had been fighting Kim Namjoon.
And lost, evidently.
“What the fuck happened?” Jungkook groans out, slowly sitting himself up despite the older man’s command. Blinking dazedly until light seeps back into his vision, he reaches for his aching temple, cursing when his fingers are met with a warm, sticky liquid. The bitter, salty taste of blood is next to make itself known, having settled onto his tongue and dried at the corner of his mouth.
Not unfamiliar.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” Yoongi responds sharply, ushering one of the medics towards his protege, “and you wiped out.”
Jungkook hardly reacts, jaded to his coach’s displeasure.
“I mean—” Jungkook winces when the medic dabs some alcohol to the wound on his temple “—how’d I lose to him?” He can still taste the venom in his own voice when he says it, and it leaves him feeling ridiculous, weak.
The man in question is nowhere in sight, but then again, the match seems to have ended a while ago. There are no spectators left to speak of, only some gym staff and the few essential members of Jungkook’s team.
Yoongi lets out a scoff, but it comes out with a distinct bite to it, akin to a snarl. And he’s already packing his duffel—refusing to make eye contact.
“Ask your girl,” is his flat response.
Jungkook’s confusion lasts a few seconds, before it finally dawns on him—a fractured shard of a memory that twists into his gut.
“Does she still do that thing when she cums?” Namjoon’s voice was smooth and calm, a stark contrast with the way he fights—dirty and undisciplined. “The sobbing, the tears—she always looked so pretty crying over my cock—”
“Shut up,” Jungkook spat, throwing out his mouthguard as he circled his opponent, blood boiling. “Don’t fucking talk about her.”
Namjoon’s grin only widened, but there was no mirth in his eyes—only ice.
“It’s such a shame you’re stuck with my sloppy seconds,” he continued, feigning a sympathetic frown. “Such a sweet, tight little cunt—”
And there it is again—the rage—heaving in his chest, poisoning his blood. The rest of his recollection becomes blurry from that point forward, but Jungkook knows how this story plays out. His temper has always been his weakness.
That, and you.
Softening, “How much did she hear?” Jungkook asks, weakly.
“None of it, as far as I know,” Yoongi responds flatly. “But she’s pissed; ran off the moment she knew you weren’t dead.”
Jungkook swallows, shrugging off the medic attending to his wound in order to lift himself off the floor.
Yoongi makes no moves to assist the younger man.
“You should have gotten her out of here before—”
“Shove it, Jungkook,” Yoongi snaps. “Maybe if you learn how to control your temper, you wouldn’t have to worry about getting pummeled in front of your wife.”
Shame is already stewing inside him—Jungkook’s well aware that he’s let his team down, and that’s almost as bad as knowing you’re hurting as well.
Almost.
“See you tomorrow,” Yoongi grumbles, right as Jungkook opens his mouth to ask about your whereabouts. “Stay alive.”
The odd farewell is a joke between friends, but it rings brittle today.
Jungkook stays at the gym late that night, pounding his heavy bag until his knuckles split open.
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It’s about 3am when he finally makes his way back to your shared townhouse home, a little place tucked away at the edge of the city—far, far away from the life the two of you have left behind.
And you’re still awake, like always. Even back when the two of you were dating, secretly, at that, you would wait for his call before turning in for the night, always too anxious to get sleep otherwise.  
And the guilt weighs on his shoulders as he approaches the bed, stomach twisting. “I’m sorry,” he rasps, sinking to his knees at your side—a shell of a man, utterly defeated in every which way.
With your back to him, you hardly stir, bringing your comforter closer into your chest. “I don’t believe you,” comes your quivering voice, and unlike usual, there’s no fire behind it. 
What’s left is even more heartbreaking—resignation. Acceptance. “You always have an excuse.”
“This was different,” he protests, face flushing with indignation. “You didn’t hear what he was saying—”
“I’m not an idiot,” you interrupt him with a sharp cry. “My ex and my husband going at it, I can put the pieces together.”
Jungkook allows shameful silence to engulf the air, having run out of excuses long ago.
And the air continues to hang heavy, still, for what feels like an eternity.
“I feel worthless,” you admit finally, voice wet with tears. “I just feel so fucking worthless.”
With his stomach in knots, Jungkook has to resist the instinct to reach for you—his hand lingering over your frame pathetically.
“You have me, we have this house, we’re about to be parents...why isn’t it enough for you?” You wipe your tears haphazardly, letting the moisture streak the back of your hand. “Why can’t we move on?”
He doesn’t have an answer, because he doesn’t know. 
He learned how to fight because he had to, he needed to, in order to survive.
But now, he does it to live.
There’s no rhyme or reason to it. That’s just how it is.
He naively thought loving you would be enough, that your happy accident of a family would heal the scars that ran so deep into his flesh. That he could move into a nice little neighborhood and all the ghosts of his past would disappear into the suburban air. It was all he ever wanted as a kid—a roof over his head, a family he could provide for.
“I chose you, Jungkook,” you’re sobbing at this point. “I gave up everything for you, I betrayed my family and friends—why can’t you choose me?”
You finally turn towards him, and though your face is shadowed by the dark, he can see the tears gleaming in streaks down your cheeks. 
But despite your distress, despite whatever frustrations you harbor—there’s nothing but love in your eyes as you reach for his face, gently grazing your thumb over his torn lip.
“Why do you have to keep doing this to me?” you whimper out, and you don’t even seem to be anticipating a response, repeating the sentiment like a hopeless echo. “I just don’t get it.”
“I don’t know, baby,” he says, pathetically. “I’m sorry.”
He doesn’t register who moves first, whether it’s you pulling him onto the bed, or him leaning forward to envelope you in his arms.
The result is the same either way—tangled limbs and desperate, bruising kisses. You’re breathing so heavily that his chest aches, longing for some way to fix everything, to be the person you need him to be.
If only he knew how, he would do something beyond cradling your belly, kissing your hair—holding you and simply hoping that you could feel the way his heart beats for you.
He just repeats the words, over and over again. That he loves you, that he’d do anything to see you happy, that you’re all he needs.
“Then stop coming home like this,” you plead, trailing your fingertip along the cut on his temple, tears welling up further when he grits his teeth at the sting. “Help me raise our son. Grow old with me, Jungkook, please.”
And he hopes—despairingly—that maybe this time, he’ll be able to speak the words into existence.
“You’re all I need,” he breathes, stroking your hair gently, meeting your tender gaze with every bit of strength he can muster up. “I promise.”
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hueseok · a month ago
Text
mio angelo.
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synopsis: › it’s no secret to the whole nation how powerful the jeon family was. the efforts of the highly respected don jungsoo was the reason why the name of their clan continues to be a name that people thought greatly of and sometimes even feared. despite your father working alongside with the don, you never truly understood what the family possessed to earn them such acclaim; that is until you got closer to one of his grandsons, jeon jeongguk, that you caught a glimpse of how much power they truly seized as you see it first hand and become a part of it yourself.
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pairing: jeongguk x reader
word count: 33.3k (🤠; use the browser when reading to avoid the app from crashing !)
rating: 18+
content: fluff | smut | angst | mafia au | established relationship au | inspired by ‘the godfather’ (so a lot of scenes may have similarities from the novel / movie) + ‘vincenzo’ | ft. lawyer!reader, soon-to-be mafia boss!jeongguk (kinda a spoiler, but kinda not) | this fic is prose heavy !!
warning/s: swearing | mature themes | mentions of smoking, drugs, prostitution, violence, crimes, and murder | explicit sexual content | dirty talk | nipple sucking | creampie | fingering | multiple orgasms | oral (f. + m. receiving) | one mention of breeding kink lmao | praising | begging | choking | riding | cum eating | taking it from behind (lmao idk what it’s called) | overstimulation | unprotected sex (this is fiction okay - be safe irl !)
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━ INTRO.
Your father has always been in debt with the Jeon Family; most specifically to their head, Don Jungsoo.
When you grew up and finally had the right amount of curiosity to ask why, Inhwan only smiled and said that the Don helped him in developing the winery—the winery that today stands as one of the most sought out wine companies in the country, slowly expanding to neighboring nations and even across other continents. He said that because of the Don’s generosity with assisting him in starting the business, taking care of matters that involved papers and endorsements and the easy transportation of goods to various well-known distributors, he was able to build a better future for your mother in about five years’ time, right before they were married and naturally, right before you were even born.
He was able to buy a massive house. He was able to raise you in a very comfortable environment, making sure that you grew up to be greatly taken care of; that you never once felt abandoned or alone, that you wouldn’t have to think twice in asking for something in whatever it is that you wanted and needed. Eventually, he was able to send you off to prestigious schools throughout your studies, even enrolled you to some classes that could develop a fundamental hobby such as drawing and playing the violin, taking any kind of measure without hesitation as long as it will assure him that he has truly done everything he can to lead you to a great future.
When you asked why Don Jungsoo offered so much to him despite the both of them not being blood related, he responded by saying “Your grandpa and him go way back. He always says that if it weren’t for your grandpa, he wouldn’t have found the success he has today.”
Hearing him say that, you were eager to meet Don Jungsoo, mostly because you never had the chance to meet your grandfather who passed away just months before you were brought to the world. At the age of twelve years old, while getting home from school that day, you were granted that opportunity as you arrived at the villa and saw an elderly man conversing with your dad in the common room, the both of them in the middle of a warm handshake, kind of like a goodbye.
That’s when you officially first met him, the Godfather, as Inhwan introduced you, promptly apologizing to Don Jungsoo for only doing so at that instance. Don Jungsoo harbored no hard feelings of course, knowing that it was nothing personal and was merely just a loss of opportunity because of the winery that Inhwan had to constantly oversee and the errands he had to do for the Family. Besides, Don Jungsoo already had the chance to meet you at your baptism and at a birthday of one of his grandsons that Inhwan and his wife were invited to, but you were very young back then to even remember it yourself.
As your eyes met that day, Don Jungsoo regarded you with delight almost immediately, fondly commenting that he thought you definitely inherited certain facial features from the father side of the family and that you have grown from a cute baby to a wonderful little girl. You smiled as he did, mumbling a shy thank you before instinctively hiding behind Inhwan’s waist, a gesture that Don Jungsoo chuckled at. It didn’t take long before you politely said goodbye when he once again concluded his meeting with your father because of the short interruption, the two men he brought along with him expressing their farewells to Inhwan too with a squeeze on Inhwan’s shoulder and also a pat on the back.
Even if that day was so long ago and was only a fragment of your childhood memories, you can always still remember that moment as if it just happened not that long ago. That day was indeed remarkable for you, since there stood the man that your dad has been talking about with so much honor and respect; the man that apparently raised your family from the ashes, the man who gave your father the chance to redeem himself, that it shouldn’t be questioned why Inhwan would treat Don Jungsoo in such a way.
You didn’t need a grown-up’s mind to realize that Don Jungsoo was an influential man. He showed it in his speech, his luxurious suit, and the people he seemed to have posing as his guard. He gave off an air of utmost authority, like there was no mistaking that he was a force you didn’t want to be reckoned with, a figure that people didn’t just respect, but also feared—and for most of your life, you only thought that it was because he was filthy and crazy rich. After all, rich people had all the means in the universe that could grant them the power to rule the entire world.
In Don Jungsoo’s case, his clan, the Jeon Family or more publicly known as JSG Group, was known to be the owner of a power company that chose renewable energy as its priority, the said establishment considered as the best across the state and among its competitors. Aside from the financial gain they already acquired with their principal enterprise, they have bought other businesses that stem from different fields—food and restaurant, motor vehicles, and even health care institutions.
They also had a lot of significant contacts, all who were as filthy and crazy rich as they were—were even secured when it came to legal matters because of the people they knew that were distinguished law practitioners; moreover, they had many friends that were involved notably in politics. It was those reasons why Don Jungsoo was named as one of the most powerful men and richest men in Seoul and has contributed so much with the immense accomplishment of your father’s winery as well. From your knowledge, JSG Group was a major shareholder of the wine company and has appointed Inhwan as the CEO to supervise its growing business.
Amidst all of that though, you shouldn’t have been naive enough to think that the winery’s said triumph was only made possible because of the Don’s well-known colossal wealth. You shouldn’t have been too dependent on the explanation that it was because Don Jungsoo was just inherently successful for everything to just go the way he wanted—for everything to fall into place in just a snap of his fingers.
It was only when you got particularly closer to one of his grandsons, Jeon Jeongguk, that you got a glimpse of what the Family precisely ran that made them so acclaimed and worshiped. It was only then did you understand and get to know what goes on behind the scenes that brought the Jeon Family such eminence, and whether your knowledge of it was for the better or for the worst, you didn’t really know.
━ CHAPTER I.
You and Jeongguk have been well acquainted since your youth. You knew him as the Don’s grandchild, the youngest in the eight that he had, and is said to be even affectionately referred to as Don Jungso’s ‘golden boy’ for he truly could do no wrong in his grandfather’s eyes.
To the Don, Jeongguk was shaped and made to be part of the business from the second he was born. Don Jungsoo said this with utmost confidence and pride in every chance he got for Jeongguk held all the qualities that he was expecting to come from an adequate head of their organization in the future. Jeongguk grew up to be a man who honored the Family’s good morals; a man who knew of loyalty, who valued true brotherhood; a man who knew when to use his brain or wield his fist; a man who you could sit down and reason with with the aim of diplomacy; a man who was adept in getting in the good sides of people, even the enemies, with his sweet tongue.
In Don Jungsoo’s three sons, there were always two or three qualities that were missing in his personal criteria for him to applaud them like he applauded his golden boy. His eldest son, Jeongguk’s father, thought too much, hesitated a lot in his choices, always wanted the majority to decide on something before he decided himself; the middle child, has never been interested in taking part of the business and most of the time remained distant with the Family in general, often treating it as nonexistent when got together with the rest of them on holidays and such; and as for the youngest, he was seen as too much of a coward to be relied on in any important mission by the Don, but he was at least dedicated in helping out in the best way he could to not be appreciated still..
As for the Don’s grandchildren, he had six girls and two boys. Since it was never an option by the Don to begin with to inflict the problems of the Family business to any of its women, his six granddaughters were ruled out automatically in his head and he only spoiled them of gifts and of love as his means to let them have a taste of what the business provided. In regards to his grandson aside from Jeongguk, who came from the middle child, the boy was much like his father who didn’t want anything to do with their source of outcome for him to be taken into mind. The Don respected the decision of his middle child and didn’t force him or his son to embrace their living, though he at least expected that they remain close to the family when it came to personal matters.
Jeongguk entered the business at the early age of 15 years old. It wasn’t supposed to be that way, for it was too young and too soon, but it was a time where there was prominent tension between the Four Families of Seoul that Jeongguk’s father convinced himself that would feel more at peace with if he knew that his son at least knew how to use a gun. Of course, the Don wasn’t consented first before Jeongguk was taught to defend himself and Don Jungsoo disapproved of Hanseo’s decision, as he always did, however, there was nothing even he could do to reverse what has already been and instead of acting like things were the way they were, in a poor attempt to save whatever innocence that is still left on the boy’s mind, he permitted Jeongguk to be introduced to their ways and to the Mafia.
Just a year after Jeongguk was brought in, he “made his bones” by being a member of Inhwan’s regime and partaking in an operation that had something to do with confronting a businessman to cave in to what the Don offered. The man was supposed to pick sides, to choose between serving the Jeon Family like he has been for half of his life or the Lee Family who came into the picture and threatened to do expeditions for them, and when the businessman declared that he was now loyal to the latter and detested his association to the Jeon clan, Inhwan permitted Jeongguk to do the honors of assassinating the traitor a few days later, thus, officially acknowledging him as a made man.
For the years that followed, Jeongguk became Inhwan’s right-hand man. It was the Don’s intention to place Jeongguk under Inhwan’s faction rather than Hanseo, for he thought that having Hanseo show his own son the ropes of the business was a little unhealthy given the man’s known wariness for the safety of his only child. So, Jeongguk became closer with Inhwan instead when it came to anything related to the business; the Caporegime he was serving trained him to be better and to be sharper in what he did.
“Jeongguk, you’ve met my daughter before, right? ____?” Inhwan said as he welcomed the grandson of the Don to his home, walking with him to his office supposedly but before they could get to the room, they had to pass through the kitchen where you were preparing yourself a meal.
Jeongguk, now 23 at that time, glanced at you and was able to instantly discern your familiar face. You’ve been a guest at some parties that his family has held in the past, he has heard your name escape past people’s lips multiple times before in casual conversations, but this was perhaps the first time that the both of you were exchanging introductions. He only knew you as Inhwan’s daughter who the Caporegime always mentioned in great esteem for being the top student of your university’s honor list; the only daughter who Inhwan cherished after his wife passed on ten years ago and who typically lived in the campus dormitory since she attended college, hence why he never had the chance to see you so close before (aside from the fact that he has studied overseas for the last four years, of course).
You made eye contact and the second you two did, Jeongguk approached you in courtesy, extending out a hand. “It’s nice to formally meet you.”
You looked at your father then back at Jeongguk, wiping your hand on the towel by the counter and finally shaking his hand. “The pleasure is all mine.”
When Inhwan and Jeongguk arrived at the office, it was obvious that you were still in the young boy’s mind. He never said anything about you again throughout the affairs he had to discuss with Inhwan though, as he thought of it as disrespectful to be straightforward with his attraction towards you to your father, but it was from that day forward that he began visiting your household frequently, even the dormitory you stayed at during weekdays, just to get to know you better, and let you get to know him more too. He was definitely interested in being more than friends, but he wanted things to run naturally and not come out as forced for him to be truly blunt about his feelings.
“I’ve been hearing that you’ve been spending a lot of time with Inhwan’s daughter these past weeks,” Hanseo, Jeongguk’s father, opened up for dinner one night. “You like the girl?”
“Would he spend the majority of his time with her if he didn’t?” His mother, Yeonjin, retorted.
Hanseo remained serious as he spoke again. “If your intentions aren’t good with her, you should drop it, Guk. She’s the daughter of one of our close family friends. It’s not good to go behind Inhwan’s back and steal his child away. If what you’re only looking for is one good night, don’t try finding it with ____.”
Jeongguk laid down his spoon gently. He was slightly offended to be viewed in that kind of light by his Pop, but he was a young man after all, and young men certainly didn’t go for serious relationships these days. “Should I ask Inhwan first before I pursue anything serious with ____ then?”
His parents shared a look; Hanseo snorted even in amazement while Yeonjin remained smiling.
“Are your intentions good with ____?” Hanseo repeated.
“I like her,” Jeongguk said. “She’s interesting, and she’s kind, and she’s beautiful, and most importantly, she gets me. We can talk for hours and I wouldn’t know because time doesn’t move as fast when I’m with her.”
Hanseo continued staring at him, analyzing him, trying to guess if he was being honest with what he just said. After what seemed like a minute of scrutinizing Jeongguk, he shrugged as if it was suddenly not a big deal. “I’ll talk to Inhwan, get him to agree in setting you up with his daughter,” Hanseo assured him.
“I can do that myself. I’ll talk to Inhwan.”
“You want to talk to Inhwan yourself?”
“Yes. I want to assure him that I’m serious with what I want with ____.”
“In that degree, we might as well just arrange the both of you two wed.”
“No, no,” Jeongguk shook his head immediately, “I don’t want it to be forced. I don’t want to rush things. I just want to know that it’s okay and my personal interests won’t affect the Family.”
The following day, Hanseo still talked to Inhwan about Jeongguk’s attraction to you as a heads up. Inhwan just chuckled, admittedly fond with Jeongguk to think of it as a bad idea, nodded, and said that as long as Jeongguk won’t do anything that would harm you or disrespect you on purpose, then he was going to be on board with whatever relationship Jeongguk was going to have with indeed his only daughter; his permission was the least of what he could give considering that Jeongguk was the Godfather’s grandson. Besides, he really wasn’t a stranger to Jeongguk at this point; he practically raised him along with the others with Inhwan’s significant role in the Family business to perceive him as not a good fit for you.
On the Friday of that very week, Jeongguk went to the campus grounds of your university. He waited outside the building where he knew you would be taking your last class, leaning against the hood of his lavish Maranello with his arms crossed and his sunglasses on the bridge of his nose. Passersby ogled at him; murmured about his vehicle, some even took sneaky snapshots to send to their friends about how there was such a car in the premises. Even Jeongguk himself was well talked about by the students, with his right arm covered with elegant yet intimidating tattoos, the striking manner in which he stood and leaned there, and the fact that he was wearing this orangish yellow short-sleeved Fendi button down and was pulling it off despite how its color and style contradicted to the dangerous aura he was giving.
When you got out of the building, still conversing with a classmate, it took you a few more seconds to notice him; if it weren’t for a distant voice of another classmate saying how there was a ‘literal world treasure’ before his eyes, you wouldn’t have curiously looked forward and saw Jeongguk there, already staring at you, head tilted to the side while he indulged himself in the beauty of your appearance. As you regarded his presence with a smile, he lifted his sunglasses, pushing it past his forehead and over his hair, and flashed a smirk at you.
“Who’s that hot piece of ass?” Your friend, with her jaw slightly hanging down, blatantly asked. “Do you know him?”
“He’s a family friend.”
“A family friend?”
“A good family friend.” You grinned all knowingly. “I’ll see you next week.”
You skipped down the stairs without giving your friend a chance to interrogate you further and stopped right in front of Jeongguk who met you halfway. He had a handsome grin on his face and upon your arrival, automatically reached out to get your bag for you, a gesture that you stopped from happening by swaying your tote bag and books to the other side of where he was reaching for.
“Are you just going to act like you coming here is a thing we planned?” you asked with a chuckle.
The grin hasn’t left his mouth, only transforming into a playful one. “Sorry. I’ve always been under the impression that on one of these days, you want me to whisk you away before you get home and take you somewhere far.”
“Ah, of course, you have read my mind and obtained one of my deepest desires. Though I’m assuming this far place we’re pertaining to is the beach? What’s with this polo?” You couldn’t help but tease, even touching the hem to straighten it for a second.
Jeongguk remained looking at you, shamelessly ignoring your teasing. “Pop already talked with your Dad. And I already talked with him too.”
“Talked about what?” You were still examining the print of his top.
“About us.”
That had you flickering your gaze up to meet his, your delight not being concealed as the ends of your lips twitched. “What about us?”
Jeongguk rolled his eyes. “Come on, don’t pretend that you don’t know what this thing is between us.”
“I’m not following, Guk.” The mischief in your gaze said otherwise and he chuckled, shaking his head, successfully getting your belongings this time when he reached for it. “What is this thing between us? All I know is that we’re great family friends and that—”
“Go out with me,” he cut you off, not letting you go longer with your act, “go out with me and let me show you a good time. More than great family friends tonight. What do you say?”
“Tonight?” You at least looked pleased and willing. “I might have to ask my father first.”
“I told you, I already asked him.”
“Even with what you want to do tonight?”
“All I want to do tonight is to take you out on a date. Just putting it out there just so we’re clear.”
You chuckled, nodding. “Yeah, crystal clear.”
“All I need is your yes, ____,” he added. “Won’t you give me that yes?”
He knew he was going to get what he wanted either way in how you smiled, how your cheeks blushed, and how you were abruptly getting fidgety, a thing you did that he noticed would only showcase itself whenever you were giddy or nervous. Nonetheless, the rush of serotonin didn’t stop you from teasing him again when you gave your answer. “I would, but I’m not exactly dressed in an attire that matches yours. I mean, I don’t even know if I have something that’s as flashy as that in my closet.”
“You’re really amused with what I’m wearing, aren’t you?”
“I just have never seen you in anything other than black or any other dark color.” You snorted. “But I like it. You look good. Very suave, still.”
“You really think that?”
“Yeah, I’m serious. You look very handsome.”
Jeongguk had noticed too that you were not one to shy away from speaking your thoughts out. It was another trait he liked about you. “Alright, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, come on—” he laughed when you did— “get in the car and I’ll drive you home first so that you can change.”
You nodded, eagerly heading to the passenger’s side, Jeongguk doing the same. “Where will you take me after that?”
“To the beach. Like you said.”
You laughed louder at that. “Sounds amazing.”
He opened the door for you and pushed it closed once you were settled inside.
Jeongguk did take you to the beach that afternoon. It was counted as your first date. You laid in the sand with him, the both of you talking about your day and other things that came to mind. You ate some cheap good food at the near convenience store, an occurrence that Jeongguk almost stopped from happening since he wanted to take you somewhere nicer for dinner, but you refused and insisted that you didn’t want anything heavy or expensive for that matter; you just wanted to be with him and act like teenage couples that couldn’t get rid of the too-happy smiles on their faces while they spent the day with their lover. Of course, you didn’t tell him the last part verbally, didn’t tell him directly yet that you wanted him to see you as a lover, but Jeongguk got the message and exactly went along with what you secretly hoped for.
By the time the sun was nowhere to be seen and the night had fallen, he told you that you two should probably get going home. The ride back was approximately 30 minutes long and he didn’t want to abuse the trust that Inhwan granted him by keeping you up too late and until the last minute for the first date. Thankfully, you agreed without a fuss, and for the whole time he drove you back to the villa, your hand was intertwined with his, laid on your thigh that was closer to the gearstick so he wouldn’t have trouble switching gears and holding your hand at the same time. He had to pretend that he wasn’t too happy with the show of affection you were sharing with him, but there was no mistaking from his expression throughout the drive that he was thrilled.
“Thank you for today, Guk,” you said as he stopped in front of your home, pushing the button that unlatched the seatbelt. “I had fun.”
“Thank God.” He laughed and so did you. You gazed at each other for a while before he squeezed your hand and let go, about to unfasten his seatbelt. “Let me walk you to the front door.”
“That won’t be needed.” You held his bicep to stop him, a successful tactic. “Dad’s probably home already and I know you say that he’s okay with us doing this but I still prefer if he wouldn’t see what I’m going to do.”
He knitted his eyebrows together, close to asking what you meant but you had already launched yourself towards him and kissed his mouth, catching him completely off guard. “Good night,” you said then, grinning, though your attempt to get out of the vehicle urgently after you said that failed to do a dramatic exit as Jeongguk gently pulled you back with a gentle hold on your wrist to kiss you again, this time in a fuller and proper way.
His calloused palm landed on your cheek, another on your neck, and when he leaned away in what seemed like hours of your lips on the other, your tongues clashing at one or multiple points in fervor—it was only so he could do the boyish gesture of smirking at you, kissing you again instantly afterwards, a soft groan rumbling in his throat while he kept you a bit longer in his car than he planned. That night marked the beginning of your budding relationship with him.
It also marked the moment when he realized that it was your nerve and determination that Jeongguk truly loved the best when it came to you. However, it wasn’t going to be for another few years that he would soon discover that just like everything in the world, your nerve and determination had limitations of its own, that there were going to be occasions wherein you would back out and play it safe—and he was willing to fill that portion of cowardice you possessed with the courage he was born with and worked hard for in his bones.
━ CHAPTER II.
Growing up, Inhwan never pressured you with the possibility that you’d have to take over the winery once you were old enough. Instead, he insisted that you follow your own dreams and he will be here, always right behind you, supporting you in any way that he could to make sure that dream of yours would come true.
Truth be told, it was never his intention to build the wine company in hopes that it could be a permanent business for his children and grandchildren—at least not at first when Don Jungsoo proposed the idea to him. The Don only told Inhwan that he should think of another venture that the Jeon Family can go into, a venture that would serve as another front for the real Family business, and in return for his efforts to build this future company and act as its CEO for the following years to come, he would be granted most of its earnings, since being so would not cause an issue with the Family due to his record of loyalty, which Inhwan felt very grateful for.
At Inhwan’s motivation, you decided to go towards the path of being an accomplished lawyer. Of course, that would take more years of studying and more years of general sleepless nights and frustration until you probably would have to wish death to fall upon you later on. But you were determined to prove yourself out there and do something that your heart genuinely longed for, not caring how long it would take and how much you would have to endure just to be at the top of your game. Inhwan, like promised, was more than willing to provide you with everything necessary for a bright road heading to your dream.
Inhwan knew you were an intelligent woman. The fact slapped him in the face every time you talked and made comments about the news or the wine company, speaking your mind out even at times no one frankly asked for your thoughts. You weren’t only smart because you knew how to memorize the texts on your school books—you were a true intellectual. He knew that and knew that he didn’t need to ask the Godfather to call important contacts to be guaranteed that you will get into the finest law school in Seoul once you were a few months away from finishing your undergraduate studies—but he still did, just to double-check, just to feel at ease that he won’t have to answer to his daughter’s disappointment when you discover that you didn’t get in.
You still got in though, thank goodness, without any of the Family’s special friends pulling some strings for him, earning it fair and square. The next thing you know, you have already spent four years in law school and have graduated, eventually passing the bar exam, your name printed as one of the top scorers. Once again, Inhwan was grateful that he didn’t have to contact anyone, knowing that if you discovered what he did, you would take it as more of an insult than a favor since more than anyone, it was supposed to be Inhwan who trusted your ability to pass on your own.
In celebration for yet another impressive feat of yours, he hosted a big get-together in the villa, inviting the Family and other people to share the momentous occasion with the both of you. Inhwan, though positive that the Don has not changed his mind in including women openly in the business, knew that the Godfather would find your obvious achievement beneficial to the Family, so he made sure to give highlight to your passing (even if it was just the start) as much as he could. You’ve been dating the Don’s grandson for four years now after all; it was only natural for Inhwan to always want to bring you into a better light and deem you as indeed worthy.
“Guk,” you breathlessly chuckled, your boyfriend’s tongue swiping against your skin, “they’re going to notice we’ve gone missing.”
Jeongguk pulled away from your neck, the skin of your throat littered with red marks that you’d have to cover up by changing into a turtle neck after the both of you were done. “So what? They’ll just understand that I’m just giving my smart girl her present.”
“And what is your present?” You couldn’t help but release a small moan when he lapped his tongue once more on your flesh and pressed himself against you deliciously harder on the mattress. “Your dick?”
“What? You don’t want it?” He snickered.
“You can’t be serious.”
“I have a greater gift other than my manhood, angel.” He leaned back fully, a handsome grin on his features, his arms supporting half of his weight as he hovered you. “Do you wanna see it?”
“Your manhood? Well, we both know it’s not something I haven’t seen before—”
“No,” he rolled his eyes, snatching a long kiss on your mouth for your silliness, “my gift. What I bought for you.”
You raised your eyebrows. “You really brought something for me?”
“Of course.” Another kiss, now on your forehead, and he stood up.
He went to your dresser, took the small paper bag that you didn’t even notice the first time around for you were too preoccupied with Jeongguk’s lips to mind anything else, and sat down on the spot he was in just seconds ago to officially present it to you. You watched in anticipation as he brought a black box out, your eyes widening impulsively at what it possibly meant and what it had inside though before you could speak, Jeongguk beat you to it. “I’m not proposing. In case you were thinking about that,” he said, placing the paper bag he didn’t need anymore on the floor.
You released a huff of relief. “I would have said no anyways.”
He flashed his eyes on you, hurt. “Really?”
“You’re not proposing, right?”
“Yeah, but it’d be nice to know that if I was, you would have said yes regardless.”
“I would have, but just not at this moment. Wouldn’t want being engaged to you steal the limelight of my accomplishment.”
He snorted. “Can’t say you’re wrong. It’d be a nationwide phenomenon.”
“Sometimes, you can go too far over the top of your head, sweetheart.” You gently held his chin to drag his face closer so you could plant a kiss on his mouth.
Jeongguk smirked and opened the velvet box. There inside lay a thin gold chain necklace with five diamonds, the five of them glittering and placed tightly next to each other in the middle. You unconsciously held your breath at its gorgeousness, your interest in jewelry not being hidden at that instant, for you can’t deny that as you got older, your love for shiny things increased too, but then you thought about how this must have cost a fortune—not that it would be any problem to Jeongguk if it had—that a frown came to your face the next instant.
“Jeongguk…”
“I didn’t spend that much on it,” he defended immediately, aware that you would open the topic of how much was this. “This didn’t put me close to bankruptcy or something.”
“Huh, that’s not at all a very guilty thing to say, Guk.”
He chuckled at the sarcasm. “Well, okay—you can’t expect me not to go all out sometimes. You deserve gifts like this.”
“Do I really?”
“Of course, you do, angel.” He took the necklace from its box. “Turn around for me. Let me put it on you and let’s see what it looks like.”
You obliged, scooting towards him and spinning around to let your back face him. You swept your hair to the other side and lifted it up, Jeongguk swinging his arms over you and laying the necklace flat against your skin, the five diamonds just by your collar. The cold sensation of the chain made goosebumps rise on your nape; Jeongguk locked it in place and lightly pulled the diamonds lower to fix it on your neck.
He kissed your shoulder sweetly when he was done. “Okay, let’s see it.”
You both stood up, trudging to the full length mirror you had in your room. As you stood before it, you could clearly see the diamonds gleaming with enthusiasm; you’re already sure that no one would miss it when you go outside and greet some guests again. You know they would automatically think that it was Jeongguk who gave you such an exquisite present, considering that even though your father would not hesitate to give you expensive jewelry like this one, Inhwan didn’t exactly have the same good taste as your boyfriend to have the necklace mistaken as his gift.
“Looks like it was made for you,” Jeongguk commented with a proud smile, kissing the same spot on your shoulder. “Do you like it?”
“I love it.”
He chuckled, encircling his arms around your waist, still placing sweet kisses on your skin.
“How much is this?” You still couldn’t help but ask.
He shook his head. “No, no, this is a gift, I won’t tell you how much it costs.”
“Just give me an estimate, Guk.”
“It’s as grand as my love for you.”
You scoffed. “I’ll be offended if I discover that this isn’t as expensive in my head.”
He laughed. “I assure you it’s worth a lot. When have I ever given you anything that didn’t match your significance to me?”
“That’s your flaw, really. You spend too much.”
“I don’t mind.” He nuzzled his face on your neck. “Not if it’s for you.”
You turned around and embraced his torso, smiling, touched and swooned by his words as he always had the ability to do. You pushed yourself upwards with your toes, properly kissing him on the lips and Jeongguk reciprocated the gesture with a content smile, his hand on your hip tightening.
“Thank you,” you murmured. “I appreciate it, you know I do. But next time, how about you give me something that isn’t too glorious, alright?”
“No promises.”
You narrowed your eyes on him, a complaint bubbling inside you though just as you were about to say it out loud, Jeongguk was quick enough to prevent your actions by capturing your mouth again with his, humming in a teasing manner as he slowly led you back to the bed.
Three knocks on your door interrupted the moment, the two of you freezing at the sound. “Guk? Are you in there?” A familiar voice was heard from the other side of the door.
“No, he isn’t,” you promptly lied.
“____, I can sense that you’re holding him captive even from miles away.” He chuckled.
You sighed and untangled yourself from Jeongguk, opening the door.
There outside at the hall stood Seokjin, the adoptive brother of Jeongguk who was also a good friend of yours and an already valued lawyer himself. He was five years older than him and six years older than you, and being someone who always treated you like a little sister of his own, especially when you started to date Jeongguk, he was always kind to remind you since your law school days that if ever you needed anyone’s guidance about your shared field, he was there and was only one call away. You told him you were certainly going to take him up for that someday when you indeed needed his help, very comfortable with him to possibly open the topic in the future.
Seokjin glanced at Jeongguk. “Your grandpop wants to talk to you.”
“What is it about?” Jeongguk was smoothing his hair.
“Business, as usual.” Seokjin looked at you next. “Sorry for stealing him away—and in the middle of your party too. But it’s important.”
“No worries, I understand. Besides, Dad might not be too thrilled if he caught us in here before you have. We were just going to join the others again anyway.”
“Ah, yes, remember to keep yourself pure before marriage, ____. Saving yourself for your wedding night is definitely still the trend with the old folks.” Seokjin grinned.
“A possible yet at the same time impossible task,” you further joked.
“I’ll see you again later, okay?” Jeongguk appeared beside you to head to the door, pecking your cheek and glancing at his brother. “Jin, look at what I’ve bought, isn’t it beautiful?” He pointed at the necklace you wore.
Seokjin turned his eyes on it like asked and pursed his lips in approval, staring at it with an amused expression, nodding. “Gorgeous. You wear it well, ____. Of course, that is if we’re talking about the diamond necklace and not the forming hickeys.”
Your face burned; you tried to look nonchalant to preserve what’s left of your dignity, moving your hair then to the front to conceal the love bites. “Well, both were given by this clever guy right here.” You glared at Jeongguk who was staring at your neck now with an even prouder gaze. You hit him on the stomach because of it.
“That doesn’t come as a surprise.” Seokjin snorted and patted Jeongguk’s back as the young man stepped out. “We’ll catch up with you again after we’re done. I won’t keep him for too long.”
“No, it’s really alright. Settle what needs to be settled. In fact, don’t bother to return him if it’s that important.”
Seokjin laughed, pushing Jeongguk away before the latter could snap something back. “Noted. Congratulations again, princess. I look forward to seeing you in court one day.”
“Thanks, Jin. Hopefully not against each other though.” You smirked.
He chuckled and strided forward with an arm around Jeongguk’s shoulders, leading him to the direction where your father’s office was located.
You’ve been informed that the Jeon Family has been talking about matters concerning the winery. The Don, being the Chairman of the board, was discussing affairs with Inhwan that you weren’t really aware of for your father never liked sharing them with you.
It was odd in your opinion, to still be kept under the light about anything that involved the wine company, for you’ve had the impression that once you grew up and has made it apparent that you could be a good help to the business despite your choice of profession not entirely centered around it, he would be more open to letting you in the scoop. Instead, you still had to mostly hear news about what he planned for it through hints from Jeongguk or other employees. Whenever you’d ask Inhwan yourself if there was anything you could do for the business, he would only squeeze your shoulders as he hugged you from the side, assuring you that you didn’t have to worry about anything, and that he could manage on his own and with the help of the Don just fine.
You let it slide but you were always salty about his secrecy deep down as you even reckon that Seokjin was more involved with it than you were. You’ve eavesdropped once in a conversation shared by your father and his friends at the patio of your villa that Seokjin was practicing his law degree exclusively for the Don (you’ve taken it as he was a part of the lawyers representing JSG Group), meaning he probably took care of anything related to the legalities of the winery too.
In a part of your mind, you didn’t get why Seokjin wouldn’t want to kick start his career first by gaining experience and taking a lot of various cases first rather than working for one big client after graduation. You knew the Don probably could offer him a sum that no client could ever give him, but in regards to the practice of law itself, you weren’t so sure. It seemed to be working out for Seokjin regardless though; he has always been sharp-witted and sensible anyways to not make the right decision.
Eventually, you’d have the opportunity of knowing exactly how sharp-witted and sensible Seokjin can be; you’d be far astonished to the point of actually beginning to deem him as a better lawyer than you were yourself, because unlike you, Seokjin had a certain quality within him that made him the perfect legal adviser.
━ CHAPTER III.
Jeongguk, since the day he became a made man, was always reminded that everything that revolved around the Mafia was strictly business. The transactions, the meetings, the negotiations, and even the violence that may come along with it if diplomacy was not the effective way to go was part of the whole ordeal. He had to instill in his head from the very start that nothing from their world should be taken personally—even if a member gets hurt because of another Family or a mafioso becomes a traitor to their organization. Everything was still going to be considered as business or done for the sake of business; nothing should ever be taken personally or with the aim to hurt the mafioso’s personal life.
That was one of the reasons why the Cosa Nostra was still seen as an honorable society despite the dangers and the various dirty businesses it carried out. Even though their people were comprised of crooks, thieves, murderers, and other nouns to describe generally bad people, they still had a set of morals of their own that they religiously kept within themselves and followed. However, there were flaws and loopholes to those ethics they observed, and the thin line that separated business matters and personal matters was something they overstepped at times in being too inflamed with their innate greediness.
“Are you sure it just happened? No one attacked my father?” Hanseo frustratingly asked through the phone. “How about that guy? Jang Yeocheol? He was obviously more than displeased when the Don refused to fund his plan for that wack of a narcotic casino. He didn’t do anything about it?”
Jeongguk waited patiently in the single leather chair inside the office. One thing he was sure of is not to rush and ask questions when Hanseo was asking them to someone else and was obviously agitated over the line. The person he was talking to was the Don’s bodyguard, the person who was in charge of driving him in and out of the office and to any other errands he wanted to go; his name was Yoongi and from Jeongguk’s knowledge, he was also one of Inhwan’s most trusted men, a guy he considered as his right-hand man since Jeongguk formed his own regime.
“Okay. I’m sending men there for backup. No doubt the news is already out about the Don’s condition.” Hanseo ended the call and glanced at Jeongguk.
“What happened to Grandpop?” he put forward.
“Stroke. Just fell in his office chair and his secretary found him there. Don’t worry, he’s okay, he was spotted early on and the doctor in charge of him is Dr. Hwang. I’m sure he’ll be doing anything to make sure the old man’s okay. You know him, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” Jeongguk nodded. “He owes Grandpop a lot of favors. Should I do something? Should I go to the hospital too?”
“No, no, I don’t want you going there until I’m sure there really isn’t foul play involved. I know it’s not unlikely for Pop to suffer from something like that, the man’s not getting younger after all, but it’s still better to be sure. I’m going to have them review the CCTVs at the office; I’ll ask a guy I know to look through the phone calls of anyone close to the Don recently. Especially Yoongi—just for a safety measure, I don’t think that kid has it in him to betray us if that was the case.” Hanseo dialled another number on his phone.
Jeongguk took out his phone as well, the other one he used for the business. “Don’t you want me to call anyone too? The other Three Families might be jumping on this opportunity to put us in the bad light; for sure they’ll have the people think that his condition is worse than it already is.”
“I already have Seokjin working on that. He’ll be talking to the director at HSN News to make sure nothing leaks or at least nothing makes a big deal out of it. Why don’t you just go ahead and talk to your uncles? Ask them where they are and how they’re doing.”
“Really? That’s all you want me to do?”
“Yes, Guk, just go ahead and do it for me.” Hanseo made a hand movement that meant ‘go do it’ as he said his greetings to the person who just answered his call.
Jeongguk started calling his two other uncles at his father’s request; the second eldest, though having never shown his obvious affection for their Family, was panicked when he got Jeongguk’s call, quickly asking if the Don was alright. Jeongguk assured him that everything was okay and that they were handling it here in the headquarters, a.k.a. the home of Don Jungsoo itself, efficiently. His uncle murmured his praises of thanks to the heavens and promised that he’ll be travelling as fast as he could back to Seoul, in which Jeongguk immediately said that the best thing that he could do there is wait for a while until they confirm that matters are truly fine; once all of that is done, Jeongguk will ask Inhwan to send a couple of men over to his uncle so that his travel can be arranged, a preposition that the second eldest son of Don Jungsoo agreed without further complaint.
For the youngest of his two uncles, the Family scaredy-cat as Hanseo liked to tease his brother for, already knew what was happening when he answered the call. It was obvious that he was shaken but was gratefully getting his shit together as he told Jeongguk that he’s already digging into it too. This uncle of his talked about how even though the Don was already in his late 70s, he still believed that his father would not fall into sickness like that, a statement that Jeongguk had to disagree to since it was him who had to see the Don every single day and see him act more like his age the more time passed by, but he chose not to say anything for the sake of his uncle who still thought of the Don so highly that even natural causes just didn’t seem plausible for him.
After Jeongguk was done making that last call, he was about to go back to the office and update himself with the next course of actions that Hanseo must already be devising when he saw your Caller’s ID flash on his screen and he figured you must have heard the news too. He answered quickly, hearing your concerned tone over the line right as he pressed the phone again against his ear.
“Hey, Guk, is he alright?” you asked, your sweet voice entering his ears that he unconsciously relaxes, not noticing that for the past thirty minutes or so of talking with his uncles and going over with what he knew so far, he has been tense and sweating through his palms.
“Yeah, he is. They’re still checking on him though but he’s fine.”
“That’s great to hear. I was surprised when I saw the article online. Do you know that they already wrote something about Don Jungsoo?”
Jeongguk closed his eyes in exasperation. “Now I do.”
“It’s horrible. I mean, I understand that they may think that the news would downplay the company but why would they go as far as reporting a personal matter like that so quickly. It’s practically inhumane.”
“Yeah,” Jeongguk sighed, agreeing despite knowing the precise answer to your wonder—that the news of the Don’s illness would bring definitely confidence in the other Families, that others would assume that the Jeon clan wouldn’t be as powerful as they were without Don Jungsoo, given that the majority of the important contacts they had were acquired thanks to their loyalty to Don Jungsoo.
A short pause. “How about you, sweetheart?” you asked. “How are you holding up?”
He shrugged even if you couldn’t see it. It was the first time someone asked how he was doing after the whirlwind of events. “I don’t know. I’d say I’m okay but I don’t know. I don’t feel good.”
“You must be feeling bad, I’m sorry for asking a stupid question. Your grandfather is in the hospital for god’s sake—it wouldn’t be unusual for you to feel that way. Should we visit him where he’s admitted later when I’m done here? Or you can go ahead and I’ll follow.”
“Sure, just right after I check in with Pop. I’ll pick you up and we’ll go there together.”
“Okay, whatever you say.”
“Thanks for asking how I am, angel.” He sighed, a small smile appearing on his features. He hated it when you downplayed your thoughtfulness by claiming it was stupid; he didn’t want you to think that he didn’t think it was sweet or touching. “I needed to hear your voice after the news. It’s a nice reliever, you know?”
“He’ll be fine, Guk.” You assured him. “The Don’s a strong man—a good man too. He’ll be okay.”
Jeongguk nodded. “Yeah, of course. He’ll be fine.” A thought jumped in his mind abruptly. “How’s your day, by the way? Have you talked with your dad?”
“Yeah, he called. He said he’ll be sending a chauffeur for me—for what reason, I don’t know what; he said that he just wanted me to get home safely. I declined though, I told him I wanted to talk to you first. Does this have to do anything with the Don?”
There were these moments wherein Jeongguk was positive that you knew much more than what you let on. He never would think you were stupid to not get what the Family really did after all these years of your father being a caporegime and your romantic relationship with him who plays an important role in the business; it’s just that a lot of people typically only assumed that the Don’s power and wealth all rooted from the power company and the other ventures the Jeon Family pursued, that it wouldn’t surprise Jeongguk if that’s what you only thought of as well. However, there were always said times like these in which you’d give him a flicker of awareness that he’d also always find himself second guessing.
Before he could have answered, Seokjin, who had slipped inside the office with Inhwan earlier while Jeongguk was conversing with his uncles, peeked outside at the hallway and looked at him. “Your pop’s asking you to pack it up quickly. You still talking with the two?”
“No. This is already ____ I’m talking with.”
“Hurry up, kid.”
Jeongguk hated it when Seokjin called him ‘kid’, even if it was used in a context of brotherly affection. He watched as the acting Consigliere disappeared inside the office again; he focused his attention back to you, still on the line and waiting. “I have to go,” he said, not bothering to pick up where the conversation was on. “They’re asking for me.”
“Yeah, I heard.”
“I’ll text you if I get the go signal, alright? Don’t go anywhere and just stay in the firm. I’ll fetch you myself when I finish talking to them.”
“Is it really that bad for all of you to behave this way?” Your tone was joking, light, but he knew that it was a serious question.
“No, no, it’s just a precaution. I think you’re already aware that Grandpop has a lot of enemies, don’t you?”
“I know. I just don’t know why you’d have to be careful with me too.”
Everything in the Mafia was business, nothing should ever be personal; alongside that, the Families mostly kept their words in never hurting women or children. “Just a precaution,” Jeongguk repeated. “I want—and I’m sure Inhwan wants as well—for you to be safe,” he explained.
You didn’t push it. “Okay then. I’ll be here and I won’t go anywhere unless it’s you who’s taking me.”
“Good. I’ll see you later.”
“See you.”
Jeongguk got the memo four hours later that the men that Hanseo hired to investigate the Don’s case concluded that there was no foul play involved and that the stroke the Don experienced was merely a normal occurrence because of his old age. Hanseo and the others expected it already, for since the last weeks, there have been instances in which the Don’s speech would be incomprehensible, a usual symptom for the illness. However, every time they raised the concern to the Godfather, insisting that he should go and see a doctor, even going as far as bringing the doctor themselves in the headquarters, the old man dismissed every single one of their attempts and said that he was doing well.
“We still need to secure the hospital though,” Jeongguk added after. “A lot would take advantage of Grandpop’s state. They’d want to use the excuse of his body failing on its own when they succeed in doing whatever bullshit they’d come up with in trying to get rid of him.”
“That won’t be a problem. We’ve got soldatos there from Inhwan’s regime and Seokjin already talked to the Chief of the Seoul Police Department to make sure it’s handled properly there at the hospital,” Hanseo said. “I’d ask you to send more from your regime, Guk, but let’s not draw too much attention.”
“I agree,” he nodded. “Can I go there now then? I’d like to visit him, see how he’s doing personally,” Jeongguk asked.
“Sure.” Hanseo nodded with a sigh. “Your grandma is already there so look after her too, she must be in shock as well. She always scolded him with the smoking and the drinking all these years that I bet it’s what she’s going to nag about once Pop gains consciousness. Plus, from now on, I’d like it if someone who’s actually part of the Family to be beside Pop’s bed all the time.”
“Okay.” Jeongguk looked at Inhwan. “I’m picking ____ at the firm. I’m going to be bringing her to the hospital too. Is that okay?”
Inhwan always appreciated Jeongguk’s respect for him whenever it came to you. Jeongguk never once made it look like he was unworthy of Inhwan’s trust since the both of you started going out by blatantly using his title as the Don’s grandson to do what he wanted. “You do that,” Inhwan urged.
“When do you plan on proposing to her?” Hanseo suddenly brought up while Jeongguk was heading to the door. “It’s been what? Five years? When are you going to tie the knot?”
Jeongguk glanced at Inhwan the same time Seokjin did, the Consigliere hiding the amused smirk that was beginning to show with a glass of scotch being raised to his lips. “Are you seriously going to bring that up right now, Pop? In front of Inhwan?”
“Oh, don’t mind me,” Inhwan looked teasing, “you know you already have my vote, Guk.”
“I appreciate that but I don’t plan on proposing yet,” Jeongguk said.
“How come? What are you waiting for? ____ already graduated, she’s already doing well in her job. The both of you can start trying to make a family. It won’t be easy to do that in the future, I’m just saying. We’re looking at the worst case scenario here, and you know that if anything happens to Pop, you’ll be my underboss.”
“Not yet,” Jeongguk only reiterated. “And Grandpop’s going to be fine. There’s no need for me to rush into these things.”
“Jeongguk,” it’s Seokjin who spoke next, “you do know that when the Don wakes up, he won’t be the same anymore, right? He’s already having problems with his talking even before this happened; no doubt we’ll have to expect worse for the following days.”
“Propose to ____,” Hanseo said in a more authoritative voice. “Then when Pop wakes up and he’s doing okay—if he doesn’t look as bad as we’re expecting him to be—let’s get you and ____ married. We’ll have the Don attend and then it’ll be shown on the news how the Don still has the strength to attend to one of the momentous occasions in his grandson’s life.”
“So, you want to use an intimate and personal event in my life as a publicity stunt?” Jeongguk scoffed.
“Don’t take it to heart, Guk.” His father frowned. “It’s for the Family.”
“It’s bound to happen sooner or later anyway,” Seokjin added. “You’ve been trying to find a ring, haven’t you?”
“Not really the time to bring that up, Jin.” Jeongguk clenched his jaw, though his annoyed expression quickly faded and he found himself nodding at the end. “But fine, alright. I’ll do it if it’s the way we should go.”
“Great.” Hanseo smiled. “Let’s just pray harder that the old man gets a full recovery then.”
Jeongguk drove to the law firm you were working at with the thought of marriage in his head. It wasn’t like it never hit him that it’s about time that the both of you get wed; Hanseo already pointed out that it’s already been five years, Seokjin already mentioned it too that he’s been finding an engagement ring as well. It’s not like Jeongguk still had his doubts most especially, he was already sure from the moment that the two of you uttered your first I love yous to each other in the past that you were going to be the one and only woman he’ll want to hear that from—no one else.
He was just afraid of pulling you into the Family further. It was inevitable and a given already, as he never once thought of letting you go for the sake of your possible safety. It was selfish and terrible of him but he always thought that if other members of the Family could do it and still keep their wives and children safe, why can’t he? After all, the Mafia might always resort to violence and blackmailing when certain happenings don’t fall in their favor, but as much as possible, they tried to not step over the line and harm a Mafioso’s blood family. Doing so would bring shame to their values and would wage a war between the Four Families as they’d support their member’s want for vengeance and justice. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.
Jeongguk only hoped that it’ll always remain that way for as long as the two of you lived. He doesn’t think he would take it if something happened to you because of the business he was involved in. It was already bad enough that you’re the only weakness of your father, the only person he cherished now after your mother’s passing; now you’ve managed to become Jeongguk’s apparent weakness too.
He soon arrived at the entrance of your firm’s building. He already texted that he was on his way minutes ago, so he was pleased to see you marching out of the doors quickly once you saw his vehicle, hopping inside the passenger’s side and automatically leaning towards him as you gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“You good?” you asked straight off the bat, a hand on the back of his neck, fingers lightly massaging his nape.
Jeongguk relaxed again at the action and stared at you before being the one to lean towards you this time, kissing you on the mouth, longer and fuller. “I am,” he said as he let go, facing forward. “All thanks to you.”
You snorted while putting on your seatbelt. “Well, I’m glad. I take it that there are no concerning affairs about the Don?”
He only shook his head in confirmation, driving forward. It didn’t take long until you both were at the hospital; Jeongguk was satisfied to see that there were a significant number of men there at the entrance, alert and eyes continuously scanning the area. When they took notice of the Don’s grandson, one of Inhwan’s men, Yoongi who was mentioned earlier and was proven innocent, greeted the two of you and insisted on letting a soldato park the car so you both could head on your way. Jeongguk thanked him and proceeded on grasping your hand, pulling you with him as he followed Yoongi towards the Don’s room.
Jeongguk hardly looked at his grandfather while consoling his grandmother along the side. He never saw Don Jungsoo as helpless as he looked at that moment; the Don has always been a hero in Jeongguk’s eyes; his protector and the person he was sure would never desert him even if worst comes to worst. Even if the doctor in charge of Don Jungsoo already assured and explained to Jeongguk that they’ve already put the necessary meds to stop the blood clot and that they’re also monitoring the Don closely, Jeongguk somehow was still not at peace.
He looked like he was though, that he was calm and composed, thanking the doctor with such politeness the Don would commend him for before Jeongguk added that if his Grandpop comes out of the hospital better and healthier, he’ll put in a word to Hanseo to reward the doctor for the service.
“Do you want me to go out and buy food?” you whispered to Jeongguk as he stared at the television, his face expressionless and making it obvious that whatever was playing in the screen wasn’t capturing his interest; his grandmother already left to eat and get some clothes at the Jeon Residential Area, so it was just Jeongguk and you for the meanwhile until his uncles and cousins would arrive. “Guk?” You placed a hand on his thigh when he didn’t answer.
He dazely turned to you. “Yeah?”
You smiled. “Are you hungry? I can go out and buy food and you can stay here.”
“No, don’t leave.” He shook his head, scooting closer to you on the sofa you were both situated in. “I’m not that hungry yet. Are you?”
“Not that much.”
“Okay.” He held your hand and pulled you towards him with it, just so he could place an arm around your shoulder. “We can just stay here until Uncle comes.”
You gazed at him from the side. “Tell me what’s bothering you, sweetheart,” you murmured as you leaned your head back at his bicep.
He dared to smile. You always had a knack at reading his mind—it’s either that or he’s been visibly bothered for the past minutes for you to finally say something. “Just worried about Grandpop. Hate seeing him like this.”
“Yeah, I know. This sucks.” You pressed your lips together. “Dr. Hwang said he’ll be fine though. He’s already pulling through, all we’re waiting for is when he’ll wake up.”
“I have no doubt that he’ll be fine. I just don’t like waiting. I don’t like this stage—the uncertainty. Until I see his eyes open and have him talking to me, I’ll always feel bothered.”
“We can visit him everyday until that happens. Will that make you feel better about this? I bet it’ll make the Don happy too; he’ll be pleased to know his favorite grandson has always stuck by his side.” You grinned, teasing a little.
“How do you do that?” Jeongguk abruptly blurted and you raised your eyebrows. “How do you make things feel so easy? So light?” It wasn’t the time to act lovey-dovey, especially a few steps away from the Don’s bed, but Jeongguk got reminded of his father’s request to propose to you and marry you soon, and he deemed this second as one of the reasons why having you his wife would be one of the best decisions he’ll ever make if he decides to finally go forth with it.
“I’m made for you like that.” You smirked, squeezing his hand. “I’m your personalized lover.”
Jeongguk laughed. “That’s corny as fuck.”
“Excuse me? I’m trying to lighten the mood here more and you’re going to insult my attempts?” You were already laughing with him though.
“I love you.” He grinned and ducked his head to kiss your nose since your lips were too far from reach. “Always be my angel, okay?”
You dragged yourself higher to do his unfinished task, kissing him on the lips, just an innocent peck. “I’ll stay on your shoulder forever.”
“You better.”
You kissed him again. “I love you too, Guk.”
He sighed in content, petting your head gently while you laid your temple against his chest.
Jeongguk indeed came to the Don’s hospital room everyday after that, staying longer than you could as you had a job to maintain, keeping himself updated first hand about any news about his grandpop’s health. For days he sat at the farthest side of the sofa while various visitors offered their wishes of recovery to Don Jungsoo, holding the old man’s hand and kissing it, crying on it even as if to show how sincere they were, praying profusely for his fast recuperation. Sometimes they’d offer their wishes to Jeongguk or to Hanseo when the latter was present too.
Finally after nine days, the Don opened his eyes and Jeongguk was there to witness it happen, immediately jumping out of his seat and pressing the nurse call button as per protocol right after.
The Don looked at him, his old and misty eyes staring at Jeongguk. “Hanseo?” he said and even with the error, Jeongguk still smiled.
“It’s Jeongguk, Grandpop. It’s me. I’m here.”
“Jeongguk,” Don Jungsoo repeated, slowly recognizing him. “Jeongguk, my golden boy.”
Dr. Hwang and the nurses swarmed inside the room quickly and soon enough, the other members of the Family were already there too, having just gotten the news thanks to Jeongguk who called his father as soon as the medical staff were taking care of the Don. Even you managed to arrive at the hospital upon Jeongguk’s text swiftly, entering the VIP room with Inhwan and approaching Don Jungsoo alongside your father, the old man offering you a tired yet pleased smile as your gazes connected and you bowed in respect.
You stayed with Jeongguk for another two hours before one of Jeongguk’s uncles convinced him that he should go home, take a nice shower, and rest while they take their turn in looking out for the Don. Jeongguk agreed and obviously asked if you could come home with him, which you nodded to, said your farewells to the Don, and then fled with Jeongguk to go to their home at the Jeon Residential Area. Once there, you stayed in his room as he took a nice bath, sprawled your body on his bed and waited until he was done so you could ask what he wanted for dinner.
He came out of the bathroom just as you were talking with a fellow associate at the law firm on the phone. You ended the call shortly at his return and smiled at him; Jeongguk went to his wardrobe to pick out some clothes, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist that you would have been fazed about if it wasn’t an already common sight to see. Nonetheless, it was still a sight that you were happy to be blessed with, your eyes trailing to the curve of his tattoo-filled arms, his defined chest and abs, right over to his muscular back that Jeongguk noticed you were truly ogling at when he glanced at your direction.
“You’re drooling, angel.” He smirked and you flickered your stare back to his eyes. “You like what you see?”
“Don’t I always?” You let out a huge breath, Jeongguk grinning and walking to your spot on the bed.
He leaned down, tilting his head to the side and pressed his mouth against yours. You ultimately melted at his touch and your insides easily squirmed in desire with that one gesture. Jeongguk felt the same way, felt the same impulse to go where this was headed faster. Being the patient and considerate man he always was however, he waited until you made the second move, the move that will reassure him that you wanted it as much as he did, and the instance you tugged his towel downwards that caused it to fall down, he didn’t waste time in pushing you forward so that you’d lay on the bed and under him.
The Jeon Family was still a little old-fashioned sometimes because of Don Jungsoo; the Don still expressed his disapproval of premarital sex whenever the subject rose as he’s a firm believer that a woman should be kept pure before the night of the wedding. It was an ironic principle by the Don really, as he still condoned the organization protecting one of the largest strip joints in the city and subsequently caved into the business of prostitution as well. Perhaps it was just a value he wanted to keep within the family—a value that Jeongguk has honestly not been able to keep with you.
It was foreseeable though as you and Jeongguk were in your prime, only in your late 20s, still considerably young; the both of you were also a good looking pair and a very smitten one too. It simply would be impossible to think that nothing happened at least once in the five years you’ve been a couple. If that was the case, people would have to commend you two for the self-control and the dedication to keep the Don’s virtues within yourselves as well.
For the past week, Jeongguk has been longing to have you this near him. He’s been too preoccupied with his grandpop’s condition and what’s been going on in the business too that he hasn’t indulged himself in anything that could keep his mind away from it. With the Don unable to lead, it was Hanseo who acted as the boss of the Jeon Family; whether a lot approved of it or reckoned Hanseo as a great successor so far, Jeongguk wasn’t sure. He didn’t want to hear anything that would cause unnecessary anger and stress on his part, so he chose not to hear the opinions of others about it. He only knew that Seokjin argued a lot with Hanseo just to put his father in the right mindset.
It’s obvious that Jeongguk has indeed been craving this with the harsh slams of his hips against your thighs as he spreads you further. It’s been seconds since he triggered an orgasm from you after eating you out like a starved man, shoving two fingers in and out of you rapidly as well, intent on making you come and get you prepped for him as fast as he could for he truly has been too eager to feel you around him again. Two weeks of not getting to make love with you was too much of a long time for Jeongguk to put it plainly.
“You wasted your shower,” you moaned as he lifted a leg of yours over his shoulder, your intention to tease apparent even if you were already being railed deliciously.
“I can just take another one. With you.”
You felt the pit of your stomach beginning to knot once more in pleasure and Jeongguk grunted as you squeezed him tighter. He dropped your leg and fell forward, latching his mouth around a nipple while a free hand groped your other breast. You gripped the hair at the back of his head, tugging its strands firmly, prompting a louder grunt from Jeongguk that sounded more of a growl than any other sound he has made and he let your nipple go to return to your mouth.
“Fuck—” you cursed with a hiss— “I’m gonna come again.” You whined.
“Touch yourself for me,” he softly ordered.
You followed his command and reached down to strum your clit hastily, Jeongguk pounding his cock inside your cunt in a sloppier manner. He too was close and was already aiming to take the both of you to your highs without any more delay. In a few more thrusts, more dirty whispers on your ear as he coaxed you to come again—to milk him dry and to let yourself go—your second orgasm rippled through you greatly; your loud noises of ecstacy probably being heard beyond the four walls of Jeongguk’s bedroom that he covered your mouth with his own to not let anyone near catch it. He might be delighted to let anyone know you were being treated well in the bedroom, but he still valued your want of privacy.
“Can I come inside?” He’s heaving, sweat running down his temple and chest. “Please? Please let me come inside your pretty pussy.” Jeongguk was whining at that point, dragging every bit of his control to not blow his load just yet.
You nodded, eyes closed, muttered yes over and over again, and with your permission, Jeongguk came inside you like stated. He groaned against your neck, forehead crushing the pillow by your head, his sweet moans eliciting goosebumps to rise on your skin. He gave you a couple of slow thrusts and then pulled out, kneeling on the mattress between your legs to stare at his cum seeping down your cunt. He grinned, stroking the tip along your folds in satisfaction, pushing two fingers in to keep his load in it, and when he was done, he crawled to your side, gently hauling you to his chest.
You ran your palm on his opposite shoulder and squeezed it while your cheek rested on its twin. “I’m tired.”
“You can take a nap,” he whispered, planting kisses on your forehead and hair, anywhere his lips could touch.
“I feel icky down there.”
He laughed and you pushed yourself up to glare at him playfully. Jeongguk remained grinning; he cupped your face and kissed you on the lips again. Soon you were on your back like earlier and he was hovering over you, the both of you making out. “Angel,” he mumbled, the endearment he loved using the most because of his reasoning that you were one of those heavenly creatures yourself, rang in your head in a more loving way, and you clung yourself against him closer, “you’ll marry me if I asked, right?”
You released his lips, pushing his face away, your thoughts returning to earth at his out of the blue inquiry. “What?”
“Marry me,” he said with more conviction, his eyes staring through yours. “I’ll make you the happiest woman alive.”
You chuckled. “I already am.”
“Then make me the happiest man alive by saying yes.”
“Guk—”
“I love you. You love me. We’ve been loving each other since forever. Why don’t we officiate it?”
“Is this your ‘I just got laid and I feel high’ brain speaking?”
“____…” he called you by your name, a rather rare occurrence if it’s just the two of you than most people would think; you understood then that he was really being serious, “I want to marry you.”
You gazed at him, your hand pushing his hair back away from his face. You appeared amazed, like you were waiting for the punch line of his joke or for him to generally just take his words back—but it never came, Jeongguk just remained staring at you, waiting for you to answer, and with a shaky exhale after realizing he was for real, you nodded. “Okay. Propose to me then.”
He kissed you; he placed his lips close to your ear; he murmured and confessed his love to you all over again. You smiled all throughout, your heartbeat beating fast and your eyes welling up as you listened to him recount dozens of memories with you, memories that you weren’t even aware he remembered up until that moment. As his finale, he asked you again if you would do the honor of marrying him, to make him the happiest man alive, though barely finishing his sentence, he abruptly propelled himself up from his position and rummaged for something in the bedside table at your left, and when he let you see what he stole from the drawer’s contents, it was a red box.
“Have you always had that right there?” you exclaimed, amused.
“No, just last night. I was beating myself up for not being able to think of a creative way of proposing soon and I might have shoved this ring too hard inside the drawer.”
You chuckled. “You’re unbelievable, Guk. You’re naked and you’re proposing and now you’re telling me you’ve endangered my supposed engagement ring?”
He ignored your teasing, acknowledging it only with a grin. “Will you marry me?” he finished his propal and opened the box; as expected of Jeongguk’s superior taste, the diamond ring that was placed in the center was so gorgeous you widened your eyes in astonishment.
You stared at the ring longer and looked up at him; you tipped your head to the side for effect and gestured to him to come closer. He did with a roll of his eyes, setting his head near yours and you hooked your arm around his neck, pulling him lower before whispering too in his ear. “Yes.”
What happened next was consisted of childlike giggling, Jeongguk pushing the ring on your ring finger, Jeongguk tackling you in an embrace, the both of you telling each other “I love you so much” until the phrase wore out, and then the inevitable love making for the second time that evening that also came to be more heartfelt than the last one—one that Jeongguk automatically added to his long list of unforgettable memories with you, his soon-to-be wife.
━ CHAPTER IV.
You didn’t want anything too flashy, that’s what you made clear. You wanted the wedding ceremony to only be attended by close friends and family; you wanted it to be intimate and personal as a wedding you thought should be. And although Jeongguk agreed and understood your point when you told him that, he expressed early on too that it was not going to be easy to make it happen for the sole reason that the person you were marrying was the grandson of the great Don Jungsoo—meaning that flashy and well-publicized would be the adjectives that would describe your wedding with him and not intimate and personal.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized sincerely right across from you on the table; the two of you were having lunch in some fancy restaurant near your law firm, the topic of wedding plans arising while you ate. “I wish I could say that I can just go ahead and tell Grandpop that I’d like to keep our wedding private, but you know how he is. You know how this family is.”
For the last few weeks, the Don’s health has been better. There were still risks, of course; he wasn’t magically cured from all illnesses just because he woke up and recovered. He was still an old man after all, and ever since the incident happened to him, his speech has notably become incomprehensible at times; a part of his face also slightly drooped, though you wouldn’t really notice it unless you’ve been staring at the Godfather your whole life and was sensitive to changes like that. As for his body though, he became thinner and in every step he took, looked like he grew heavier too. However, in regards to Don Jungsoo’s wisdom and ability to share intelligent thoughts, it was still gratefully there, just shared in a fashion that was a bit slower than before and perhaps harder to understand.
“Yeah, I get it,” you said. “What if we just elope and get married at some place like Vegas instead?” You were clearly joking. You showed it in the small upward curve of the other end of your lips, but you knew that Jeongguk sensed that there was still some genuinity hidden behind your light guise. “I’m kidding,” you added for a quick measure.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated.
“Don’t apologize, sweetheart. There’s no reason for you to do so.”
“It’s just that I think I’m depriving you of spending our wedding day the way you want it. Haven’t you dreamed about something like this when you were young?”
“I did. I forgot about it eventually too. It’s not a big deal.”
“It’ll be a big deal to me if my beautiful bride won’t be happy on our special day.”
“Keep up the flattery and I’ll assure you that your beautiful bride will be happy.” You chuckled.
“Okay, how about this—” Jeongguk reached out and grasped your hand— “you do everything you want for the wedding and I won’t object. You can pick the theme, the food, the cake—everything. The only thing I’ll be having control over is the extra guesses for the ceremony and reception.”
“Guk, come on, I won’t deprive you like that. This is your wedding too.”
“I just want it to be memorable and have it the way you want, angel.”
“As long as you’re the one I’m saying I do too—it’ll be memorable and be exactly like I dreamed of. Don’t worry.”
Jeongguk grinned. “You mean that?”
“Would I have said yes if I didn’t?”
He chuckled and brought your knuckles to his lips, smooching it loudly in a playful yet sweet way.
Two months after that, you had your engagement party at the villa. Your home was big enough to accomodate people and it was a good thing that at least in that event, you had only spent it with your close loved ones and not anyone who wanted to suck up to your groom and steal him throughout the whole event, perhaps drowning him in unnecessary praises and ego boosts to get a good word from Jeongguk to Don Jungsoo. It was Jeongguk’s promise that he would ask the Don to keep the engagement party as exclusive as what you wanted, and indeed it is what happened.
There were people from your law firm, friends from college and from law school, and as for Jeongguk’s peers, he invited only a small number of people he knew; he told you they were mostly family friends, some college friends too, and close relatives. Your father, Inhwan, couldn’t help but invite his own set of guests, mostly people he knew through the Don. Of course, that only meant that the Don and his wife were also present in the event, along with Jeongguk’s parents, Hanseo and Yeonjin, and Seokjin with his wife as well.
A lot of people gawked and praised your diamond engagement ring, gushing how it looked dashing on your beautiful hand and how Jeongguk must have really gone all the way to buy it for you. In the moments your fiancé heard such admiration, he, who was standing beside you all day, smiled and squeezed your waist, glancing at you before declaring that it’s because you only deserve the best every single time. Ladies shared meaningful looks of envy with each other and teased you for being so lucky; gentlemen whistled in hilarity and gave Jeongguk playful pushes. Anybody with two eyes saw how you both shared great love and respect for one another, that it was always either admirable or gut-wrenching (in a good way).
“Are you ready to be part of the family?” Seokjin suddenly popped beside you and handed you a champagne flute. Jeongguk just left to go to the bathroom and unbeknownst to you, had asked Seokjin to take his place for a while until he came back.
You thanked him. “Is that question some kind of test?”
“Yep. If you say the wrong answer, I get to claim that fancy ring as my prize.” He nodded at your hand where the ring glimmered in the hanging lights. “I think I can support my family with that for over a couple of years.”
You snickered at his sarcasm.
While you were growing up, you have always admittedly been closer to Seokjin than you were with Jeongguk. Before your fiancé officially entered your life and claimed what would soon be his permanent place, it was Seokjin who you frequently saw and hung around with. The two of you had a similar sense of humor that you found clear connection in; he was and acted like an older brother you never had—in Jeongguk’s case, he already was an adoptive brother of the young man for since the death of Seokjin’s parents when he was in high school, Hanseo, who was his godfather, took him in the family. Inhwan was there to fend for him too, hence why you two became close, however, there was a period in your friendship wherein it faded out a little when he went to the States to pursue his baccalaureate and Juris Doctor degree, a path that you too was supposed to take as an aspiring lawyer yourself but with your father having no one close to real family if you did, you opted to stay.
“Is it odd that I’m a little nervous about it?” you asked him after a few seconds of silence. “Like, me and Guk have been together for so long, and I know his family likes me, but why do I still feel like they might change their mind when we get married?”
“As in Yeonjin becomes an evil mother-in-law?” He smirked and you gave him a look at the question. “Your worries are pointless, really. You know they already adore you. Hell, even the Don loves you and that’s an achievement of its own. You don’t have anything to be troubled about, ____.”
“The Don loves everyone.” You sipped on your flute.
“He loves everyone who his family loves,” he corrected. “To others he’s just kind and generous.”
You scrunched your forehead together and stared then at the Don who sat on a table far from yours. He was talking to Hanseo and Inhwan, a rather somber expression on his face; his mouth moved in a slow and steady bearing. You’ve thanked him earlier for going still despite his obvious declining health. He was still able to do things on his own and appear like he has always been, but being one to know what’s really going on behind the glamour of Don Jungsoo, you were aware that his first case of having a stroke took its toll on him; a fact that you noticed the Jeon Family has been trying to conceal.
“Seokjin, can you be honest with me?” you suddenly began.
He glanced at you. “About what?”
“The reason why your family insists on having the wedding as soon as possible.” You turned to him. “It’s because of Don Jungsoo’s condition, isn’t it?”
“Why do you say that?”
“Just an observation.” You shrugged nonchalantly.
Seokjin raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think questions like that ought to be asked to Jeongguk instead?”
“I already did.”
“And what did he tell you?”
“He said that he wants his grandfather to be present and healthy on the special day, that’s why we should get married as soon as possible.”
“Then that’s the reason.”
“That’s a reason,” you said. “I have a feeling there’s more.”
Seokjin stared at you and brought the rim of his champagne on his lips. “You’re a smart girl, princess,” he replied. “And because of that, I’m sure you’ll figure it out on your own.”
You dared to snort in amusement. You knew that Seokjin was another one who didn’t budge, but it was still worth the shot.
You wanted to be let in with whatever has been happening since the Don’s mishap as you didn’t think that the way they reacted was how a normal family would when the head of your clan just suffered from a stroke. They were still sympathetic, of course, overly concerned about the health of the Don, however you had felt the tension that rose within the Jeon Family in the days that Don Jungsoo remained lying unconscious on his hospital bed. You saw how troubled Jeongguk was, even saw your father look visibly stressed, though what you had found most peculiar were the way outsiders were reacting to the news of the Don falling ill. They were taking every opportunity to bring down his name and his family—referring to him with titles such as ‘mob boss’ and ‘king of the underworld’ that it was impossible for you not to be curious.
“What did I miss?” Jeongguk returned to your place with raised eyebrows. “What’s with the serious faces?”
“I was welcoming ____ to the family,” Seokjin told him.
You decided to play along. His disregard of the last conversation probably meant he wasn’t keen on talking about it again. “More like threatening me. He wants to steal my ring.” You laughed at the same time Seokjin did when he heard you.
“I’m going to see this more often, aren’t I?” Jeongguk’s arm snaked around your waist while his eyes moved back and forth between you two. “The both of you just constantly ganging up on me with inside jokes or whatever?”
“Maybe. That’s what makes ____ the best sister-in-law, though.”
“The only sister-in-law actually.” You snickered. Seokjin clinked his glass with yours.
After the engagement party took place, came the rapid planning for the wedding. Don Jungsoo was ever so kind to pledge that all expenses for the ceremony and the reception were to be paid by him, an offer that you wanted to reject for even though you appreciated his kindness with all of your heart, you didn’t want to burden him and take advantage of it in that kind of extent. Jeongguk convinced you not to do so and just go along with it though; he said that The Don gained happiness by doing favors like that to his loved ones, especially to his favorite grandson, as he proudly claimed. Jeongguk insisted that it would bring great satisfaction to his Grandpop to know that he made a huge contribution to an important event of both of your lives.
So, you agreed, and in five months’ time, the wedding ceremony commenced and with just a blink of an eye, you found yourself being a true married woman to Jeon Jeongguk. You vowed to love him endlessly and to always be by his side in a cathedral that fit hundreds of people, people who you either knew well or have never met in your whole life. But you found yourself not caring as much with the amount of individuals present like you initially did. All you cared about was how handsome Jeongguk looked in his midnight blue tuxedo and his hair styled in a fashion that had one side slicked back and the other had some strands falling on his forehead, his big and boyish grin that he displayed right after when he shed some tears as he saw you walk down the aisle, his promises of devotion to you from that point forward, and especially the strength and earnestness of his kiss when the priest finally said “You may now kiss the bride”.
“I love you,” he whispered to you as he leaned back, his face only centimeters away, those words the only thing processing in your head while the crowd clapped and cheered
You grinned, kissing him more. “And I love you.”
The reception was held in one of the Don’s owned properties, a spacious mansion that no doubt was able to cater the hundreds of guests present. It was decorated in line with yours and Jeongguk’s chosen theme for the reception which was rustic, fitting the also rustic architecture of the venue. There were dark wooden chairs and tables covered only partially with white linen tablecloth; hand-tied bouquets and florals with greenery on baskets at some parts of the walls; antique ornaments and lights hanging on the ceiling; and the ambiance of the place was simply just the way you both wanted, delighting you two when you first arrived.
You slightly grew self-conscious with the amount of guests again when the host introduced you and Jeongguk as a married couple. You scanned the audience and saw a lot of familiar faces—and they were familiar not because you knew them personally, but because you have seen them on TV or in a newspaper once. You were aware that the Don had a lot of friends from the entertainment industry too, but you didn’t think that some of them would actually be close enough with the Don to be invited to the wedding.
“Just say the magic word and I’ll bail us out,” Jeongguk said against your ear while a distant relative of his sang in the center of the hall. The fun games were over and the program was going towards its end, the only thing left were the warm messages and the performances that your loved ones prepared for the special day.
You turned to him and chuckled. “First of all, I have no idea of this magic word that you’re talking about. Second of all—that eager to get me alone, huh?”
His eyes glinted.
You two made a pack since your engagement party that you would not partake in any sexual acts (the most would only be making out or groping if the libido was too tough to handle) before the wedding to make the night of the honeymoon more awaited for. It wasn’t even that long, to be frank (okay, maybe it was—five months was a considerable long time) but it was the longest in a while that you haven’t had sex since you started doing such act with him. Jeongguk was okay with the idea and agreed that it’ll make the wedding night more worth the wait.
However, earlier at the room where the both of you changed into different clothes for the reception, Jeongguk had kissed you and you kissed him back with the same flaring passion he was showing, prompting an unplanned heavy make out session that also brought a palm of his on one of your ass cheeks, your husband squeezing it and groaning, murmuring how he couldn’t wait until later to have you again. You jokingly slapped it away and told him to be more patient, which he groaned louder for and kissed you one last time before finishing on dressing up.
“You’ve been driving me crazy all day,” he continued, still whispering close to your ear. “You looked so gorgeous in the wedding dress—and now look at you right now, angel. You’re really giving me the impression that you truly are a gift from the heavens.”
You smiled. You were wearing a more daring attire for the reception, a lace maxi dress with a straight neckline and thin shoulder straps; it had a slit on the right side just above your knee as well, but it wasn’t that aspect of the dress that made it daring, it was the fact it completely exposed your back from behind and only had strings tied across its ends to make it appear not completely backless.
“You can take it off for me later,” you told him with a smirk.
Jeongguk huffed at that. “Don’t plant the idea in my head or I’m going to have a boner all night.”
“Well, it’s only fair. Do you think I’m fine with your chest practically in my face?” you retorted, and in cue, flickered your gaze down to his chest where the polo he was wearing had three buttons opened, giving anyone the view of his impressive pecs.
He seemed pleased that you noticed it. “You’re more than welcome to take it off for me too.”
“I’ll rip it off you, sweetheart.” You chuckled and pecked the corner of his mouth. He hummed and placed a cheeky hand on your upper thigh at the action, and when your eyes followed where his hand was travelling, you automatically lowered it down to your knee. “Guk.”
“Okay, okay,” he frowned and faced his palm up, an invitation for you to intertwine it with his and you accepted the offer, “I’ll behave.”
For the rest of the night, after the special performances by good friends and family, the reception felt like a campaign and Jeongguk was the candidate as it neared its conclusion. Acquaintances and business partners talked and congratulated him—they congratulated you too, of course, but you sensed that it was only mere politeness that made them do so. Their real target was still the Don’s grandson and having the chance to butter him up for the sake of getting on the good side of Don Jungsoo. In fact, you think that Don Jungsoo was perhaps more acknowledged than you throughout the evening as you recalled the amount of men that went to his table and shook his hand in eagerness for the duration of the function.
“Really, Dad? You’re going to cry at this last moment?” you teased your father; his expression was solemn and he had his lips pursed as you bid him your farewells to go to the airport where you’ll be flying to Jeju Island for the honeymoon. He didn’t cry when he handed you to Jeongguk at the cathedral, or shed a tear when you shared your father-daughter dance at the reception, but now it looked like his tear ducts were finally surrendering in defeat.
“I’m not crying,” he denied, though his hug was tight when you embraced him. “You take care of yourself, okay?”
“I’m still coming back after two weeks, you know.”
“Yeah, I know, kiddo.” He pulled back and kissed you on the forehead, holding you out within arm’s length to gaze at you fondly. “I guess I’m a little overreacting. Imagine if your mom was still here.”
“No doubt there’ll be waterfalls coming from her eyes.” You joked. One of the fond memories you had of your late mother was how easy it was to trigger a tear from her.
“Inhwan,” Jeongguk just finished instructing some men to help with the luggages so he decided to join the two of you, “or is it Dad too from now on?”
Inhwan laughed lightly as the young man stood beside you. “Sure, why not? You’re officially my son-in-law now anyways.”
Jeongguk gestured for a hug and Inhwan complied. He patted Inhwan’s back and said with a soft voice, “Don’t worry, I’ll do everything I can to always make ____ happy. She’s safe with me.”
“I know you will.” Inhwan grasped his shoulder when they both leaned away. “That’s why I like you so much, Guk. You’re a good one, you take care of my kid well.” They shared a smile.
While they continued to talk, you approached Hanseo, Yeonjin, and Jeongguk’s grandmother. You told them your thanks again for being part of the momentous occasion and for helping in making it happen in the way you wanted. Hanseo told you that it was no problem; Yeonjin kissed your cheek and said she was happy to finally have a daughter herself; Jeongguk’s grandmother embraced you and gave your cheek a kiss as well, saying there that she should begin passing on famous recipes in the Jeon household to you. Next, you moved to the Don who was just about to go ahead and sit at the backseat of his designated vehicle, but upon seeing you walk to him, stopped and waited until you two were finally standing face to face.
“Thank you so much for everything today, Don Jungsoo,” you said, bowing to show your respect. Even though the Don has been nothing but kind and goodhearted to you in the past years you have known him, you were still cautious whenever you interacted with the old man for the reason that is you were still intimidated by his presence and the powerful aura he gave off. “I appreciate it so much, truly, I don’t think I can ever thank you enough for being so generous.”
“You’re part of the family now, ____,” he clasped a hand of yours between his and tapped it gently, “so please feel comfortable to call me as Jeongguk would. It is I who should be thanking you for being there for my grandson no matter how difficult that boy can be. Everything I’ve done is nothing compared to the joy you’ve given him amidst the hardships he goes through everyday.”
“Oh, it comes both ways, I assure you. Jeongguk was clearly raised well for him to be this wonderful.”
“I hope that stays for a long time then—you and Jeongguk respecting and loving each other. One thing I’m sure in this withered life of mine is that loyalty plays a huge part in how events play out. The best investment you can ever have in your life is a good partner to spend it with.” He gave your hand another pat and then he let go. “Tell me if Jeongguk ever gives you a hard time and I’ll teach him a lesson.”
“That’s impossible, Grandpop.” Jeongguk walked from behind you and hugged his grandfather goodbye. “I don’t think you've noticed but ____ clearly has the pants in this relationship.”
They laughed, the Don’s laughter coming out as a wheeze though the smile on his face was unmistakably and genuinely amused. He said his final farewells to you two and you told him yours, saying too that you hope for him to keep on getting better that the Don appreciably smiled at and said his thanks. You watched as the vehicle he was in drove away, two more following closely behind as another led the path, placing the car where Don Jungsoo was in the middle.
“Ready to go?” Jeongguk asked when it was just you two there.
You smiled at him. “Yeah.”
You arrived at Jeju Island at about 10:56 PM that night. Out of all the places you could have gone to, you and him decided that Jeju Island was the one to go for the honeymoon because it was the same place where you celebrated your first anniversary in the past. Besides, you two didn’t want to go to another beautiful country and exhaust yourselves more with the travel time and all the arrangements you’d have to do for the location you’d be staying in for two weeks. The hotel you’ll be residing in was sponsored yet again by Jeongguk’s family.
“I hope you’re not too tired.” Jeongguk smirked at you while you both walked out of the elevator to head to the suite you were going to settle in for the mini vacation.
You glanced at him and smirked back; your hands were intertwined and you were swaying it back and forth childishly. “Me? Of course not.”
“You sure?”
“One hundred percent. How about you?”
“You really want to ask that?” He was looking at you differently now, eyes shaping themselves in a manner that you were all too familiar with.
“Well, I’m asking you because I’m just hoping you won’t sleep on me. I know we haven’t gotten proper action in months for you to miss this opportunity but let’s be real—when you’re tired, you’re tired.”
“I swear, I’m not.” He chuckled and paused with you as you arrived by the door. “I’m too pumped for me to be and indeed miss this opportunity.” He brought out the keycard, pressed it against the intended spot, and you heard the lock disengage with an audible click
At the sound of that, you began to get jitters. It was another one of those funny things you’ve been experiencing with anything related to Jeongguk since the engagement—that even though you’ve been with him practically half of your life and was one of the people you could be your absolute self and be assured you won’t be judge—you were starting to feel awkward and shy at times, such as this moment right here where even though Jeongguk had already kept the keycard back in his pocket and had opened the door to welcome yourselves to the room, you were frozen on where you stood, your feet seemingly stuck.
He appeared to have sensed your sudden showcase of reluctance for he abruptly faced you, his hands going on your bare arms as he smiled. “Let’s go?” He tilted his head towards the suite. Your luggages were already there, placed kindly by the hotel staff while you and Jeongguk were finalizing some papers at the lobby.
You shook every feeling of wariness away and nodded. At the gesture, Jeongguk’s smile widened into a grin and as fast as he could, he scooped you in his arms in what popular media would call ‘bridal style’, emitting a surprised yelp from you though you prevented your mouth from producing more noise by covering it with a hand while he walked further inside the room, kicking the door close behind him.
“Guk!” You laughed and he did too, face getting closer to yours until he captured your lips successfully.
You reciprocated as soon as you felt him kiss you, your arms being thrown around his neck so you could support yourself better. Jeongguk laid you down on the bed and you realized that rose petals were on them when your back hit the mattress, your eyes opening and spinning down to check if what you were thinking of were true and true enough, there they were. You had to make a mental note to thank the owner of the hotel for being accommodating enough to do the effort of creating a romantic atmosphere; they might do this as a standard for newly-weds, but the owner was a good friend of Hanseo’s so you wanted to express your gratitude personally.
“You said I could take this off, right?” Jeongguk ran his hands on the sides of your dress and you nodded.
He moved his mouth to your throat and kicked off with what he’s been yearning to do for those whole five months of not getting the proper taste of you. Despite the longing and the anticipation though, Jeongguk didn’t act rashly; instead he did anything rather excruciatingly slow—the way his lips moved against yours, how he untied the straps that enabled your dress to stay together, the manner in which he removed it from your body, planting wet kisses on your skin where the fabric of your dress previously glided on… fucking hell, you didn’t know whether you were trembling already because of his obvious unhurriedness or because you knew where his ministrations were going to take you.
“So pretty,” he breathed out raggedly as he squeezed your breasts. You were completely undressed before him as he intended, the only thing left was your white laced underwear that you wore to match the dress. “I think I’m going to nut by this sight of you alone, angel.”
You dared to chuckle. “Is it my turn to rip your polo off now?” Your hands were fondling the collar of his top.
“Be my guest.” He smirked.
Unlike him, you were swift in unbuttoning his long-sleeved polo, hastily pushing it past his shoulders to slide it off his arms. In the approximately ten seconds you did that, you kept on kissing him, sucking lightly on his lower lip, Jeongguk helping you in discarding the material away from his body as well. When that was done, he surged forward, laying over you on the bed, and you quickly carried on with removing his pants, briskly unbuckling his belt and unzipping it to grant you the freedom to tug it down his thighs.
As he pressed his body against you, you ultimately felt his hardness on your stomach, a sensation that you groan at, your insides tingling. You instinctively reached down and grabbed his cock over his boxers to feel it more, massaging and groping it, just the way he liked and what Jeongguk responded to by nibbling your jaw harshly. “Fuck,” he moaned before uttering a warning, “not too fast, not too fast.”
“Want you,” you pant, ignoring his protest, your palm not slowing down, “right now, Guk. Want your dick in my mouth.”
“Yeah?” He grunted, disposing of his boxers and flinging it off his feet. “Does my pretty wife want her mouth fucked first?”
You grinned at the title. It made your pussy clench into nothing. “Yes.”
He gnawed at your jaw before leaning back. “Scoot higher for me.” He instructed and you followed, backing up on the bed until you stopped at the pillows by the head. There were still petals all over the sheets that you had to flick them away with the back of your hand.
Jeongguk trailed his kisses from your knees up to your inner thighs, hands sensually caressing your sides then your breasts. He always had a thing for your tits; he received pleasure from just seeing them cupped by his hands, loved it when it jiggled when he fucked you hard—the image of that alone popping in his head making him harder. Without delay then, he proceeded on going forth with your request, Jeongguk kneeling over you, both of his knees on either side of your shoulders, the tip of cock on your chin.
There was precum leaking on it, a sight that you salivated at. Jeongguk gave his shaft a few strokes, teasing you by gliding the end of his dick on your lips. “Shit,” he groaned when he indulged himself in finally pushing his cock inside your mouth, “that feels so good already, angel. Just like that—I missed that mouth.”
His thrusts were relaxed. He didn’t really want to rush. He gently ran his fingers through your hair and pushed all loose strands away, wanting to get a clear view of your face. You had your eyes closed and you were bobbing your head voluntarily to meet each thrust of his hips. At one instance, you let the tip reach the farthest it could go and you gagged a little, pulling back with a heavy gasp. Jeongguk stretched behind him and touched your clothed heat, feeling how soaked it already was and how just a light press brought a lengthy moan out of you.
“Fuck, fuck.” He cursed as he fucked your mouth faster, your hand palming his balls, though upon the last minute, once his cock was starting to pulsate and his balls were tightening, he pulled back.
You exhaled, some saliva connecting your lips and his cock, and Jeongguk kissed your mouth sloppily before he slithered down to stop right in front of your cunt, working faster now as he pulled your underwear off and dived right in between your legs, sucking and slurping on your clit with a profound determination. His groans and grunts added to the pleasure—you loved hearing him get so into the act of whatever it was that he was doing to drive you crazy—craved it at times even, his sweet sounds even staying in your mind after you were both done. Jeongguk spreaded your lips and spat right on them and went back in, growling.
“So sweet. I’ve been dreaming about tasting this pussy again,” he said, two fingers rubbing it as his tongue licked your clit. “I could drink you up all night.” He inserted the fingers right in your hole and you mewled, arching your back slightly at the movement, moreso as he rapidly pushed it in and out, all the while still sucking your bundle of nerves. It felt like it was going on forever; everything was so good and your toes were curling already in anticipation. He switched between fucking you with his digits and his tongue, your walls welcoming the muscle every time and giving him something to taste.
“Ah—holy shit, I’m close—” you grabbed a fistful of his hair— “fucking hell—I’m going to come.”
The usual thing that Jeongguk would have done was keep up with his speed until you were coming on his face, your juices right on his mouth, his chin, just everywhere—but he stopped, for he had already thought that if there was anywhere you would be coming on for the first time in the last five months, it was going to be on his cock. And so he pulled away and hauled you closer by dragging you towards him roughly with your thighs. You gasped at the sudden showcase of strength, Jeongguk dropping back over you to devour your breasts.
His shaft was pressing against your heat, so near that it was causing you to be more impatient. Jeongguk nibbled a bud and squeezed the other, noisy and so fucking erotic it was sending you off to another space. You couldn’t take it anymore; you tried rubbing your folds together on his dick.
“Fuck me, Guk—please, please,” you begged and cried. “I can’t—I wanna feel you so bad now.”
He stopped paying attention to your tits and looked up, his hair messy and his eyes completely dazed. He brought himself higher so your faces were in level and kissed you; you still tasted what’s left of you in his mouth. “You want my cock inside your pussy?” he asked.
You nodded hastily. “Want it, please.”
“Really? How much?”
“So fucking much.”
“Is that the best thing you could do?” His fingers wrapped itself on your jaw and he tightened his grip. It didn’t hurt, just made you steady—made you pay more attention to reality; he knew you liked it. “Beg harder for it, angel,” he said, looking straight in your eyes now.
You whined. “Please, please, please—I want it.” You marveled his chest, your palms appreciably massaging his pecs. “I want you to fuck me hard—want you to come in my pussy, fill me up so fucking good.”
“Yeah?” His fingers moved to your throat as he leaned back. “You want me to knock you up on our wedding night?”
“Jeongguk—please—fuck me, please.”
He dared to chuckle at the desperation. “Well, who am I to deprive my wife of what she wants, hmm?” He began to align his dick on your entrance. It’s been too long since his manhood was directly on your heat that even he shudders at the contact. “My beautiful wife deserves to be fucked good, doesn’t she?” It was obvious how the fondness of calling you his wife was already planted within him in the not even 24 hours of being married.
You were definitely not thinking straight anymore as he pushed it in. “Yes, yes, yes—” you moaned the words out in a chant, the stretch his cock does to your cunt compelling a louder cry from you in pleasure.
Jeongguk too was desperate. He fucked you fast and hard straight off which your slickness allowed him to do so without difficulty. His fingers that remained on your throat tightened in just the right amount, choking you in just the right way as he kept himself at a distance while he hovered over you. Jeongguk has always been a mix of aggressive and loving when it came to bed; it was either he was too aggressive or excessively loving, both that you didn’t have any complaints about. At the end of each ‘session’, he always satisfied you nonetheless and made you feel absolutely amazing—you never had one encounter with him that had you dismayed or upset after.
You were really getting close the more he rocked against you. You weren’t one too hard to be pleased—to trigger an orgasm from—especially if it’s Jeongguk we were talking about here, and given the five-month long of abstinence from sex to make this first night of the honeymoon extra worthwhile, you were too sensitive to hold back and control yourself from coming already. Jeongguk of course sensed that you were close, he groaned and growled whenever you clenched around his cock, your warm walls bringing him to the edge alongside you.
“You gonna come, angel?” He let go of your throat and was spreading your legs further, pushing and bending you forward. “Gonna come for me?”
You nodded, unable to speak, and he gave you one last hard kiss before he paused in working his hips to start lifting you up, erupting another whine from you for you were already there at the very last second when he did so, though you tried to make yourself as light as possible as he sat and made you sit on him, his cock not leaving your cunt. You got the hint and attached your mouth back on his, riding him in a fast pace instantly, continuing on where the both of you left on.
Jeongguk gave your ass a hard slap and gripped them firmly, bouncing you up and down on his dick faster. “That’s it, that’s it,” he grumbled, sliding his hand down to strum your clit, “that’s right, fucking use my cock to get off. That cock is fucking yours to use.”
You threw your head back and he used that as an opportunity to lavish on your chest, sucking and licking, and with the overwhelming sensation of his dick, the friction, the stimulation on your clit—in an abrupt snap, you came hard without warning, practically screaming his name as you did so, thighs convulsing uncontrollably, Jeongguk moaning too, cupping your face and dragging it close to his so he could kiss you and add to the pleasure you were experiencing.
You rode him until your thighs were aching and until he was on the verge of coming himself. Jeongguk urged you off him and turned you on your back when he was close, the side of your face falling on the mattress. He held your hips up, pushed your upper half down further, and fucked you senseless immediately, not wasting time, overstimulating your sensitive pussy but it was too good to ask him to stop.
“Fuck, you feel so fucking good—so tight, don’t know how I fucking lived without the feel of this for fucking months—” he moaned and gave your ass another hard slap, the sound of it ringing in your ears and making you clench. Jeongguk cursed again at the action and bent down to press his chest against you, sloppy kisses given on your shoulders and neck. “I’m gonna come. Gonna come inside you.”
“Please,” you choked out.
“You too. Come with me, angel.”
“Guk,” you whined, your tone protesting.
He was ramming onto your harder, his hips going haywire, and his hand went under your bodies to caress your breast, fingers pinching the bud. “Please—fucking, holy shit—I know you can. I know you can come for me. You’re my good girl. My sweet—” he shoved his cock deeper, pulling back from the tip and then pushing it all in— “sweet, fucking, beautiful girl.”
It is when he did that previous movement for a couple of times and whispered more praises in your ear that you found yourself experiencing another orgasm the same time that finally he too came with a very audible groan, his thick seed spilling inside you and filling you up. He squeezed your ass harshly, nails digging on them a bit, and then he pulled out after a few more thrusts, eating your pussy from behind right after as if everything wasn’t enough. He groaned at the taste of his cum mixed with your juices; he felt blood rushing to his dick again at the arousing taste of it and the image of your swollen cunt a second ago with his seed pouring down.
“Guk,” you whined, “too… too much,” you said when it was really starting to hurt.
Jeongguk leaned his face away and calmed down, granting soft kisses on your buttcheeks, his kisses travelling upwards until he had you laying on your back again, his mouth back on yours. “I missed fucking you,” he declared explicitly and you had the nerve to laugh, the pit of your stomach tingling in agreeableness.
“Told you it was worth it,” you bothered to joke and Jeongguk chuckled, his breathing ragged but he was composing himself, raising his head and looking at you.
“You’re worth it,” he said.
Your heartbeat escalated—as if it hadn’t been beating fast enough with the events that just transpired—and you placed your palm on his cheeks, stroking it affectionately. “You too. I love you so much, Jeongguk.”
He nuzzled his nose against yours, smiling, endearing bunny-like features showcasing themselves; he appeared like a different person from the man who was just drilling your cunt a while ago. “I love you much more, my angel.”
“No, no, that’s unfair. No one gets to love the other more.”
“It’s true though,” he argued. “But I didn’t mean that as a way to compete with what you feel—I’m just saying I love you much more. Much more than I can always say.”
You squinted your eyes at him and laughed. “Okay, Dr. Cheesy.”
“You laughing at me?” He playfully grazed his teeth against your earlobe and you squealed, Jeongguk chuckling.
You smiled so wide that your cheeks hurt; you kissed him repeatedly, wounding your arms around his shoulders, sighing in peace and thanking the universe for setting you up with a man as extraordinary as your husband. He returned the gesture and the both of you continued to consummate your marriage again and again throughout the night, the passion and the intimacy undeniable as what should be expected with newly-weds who were deeply in love with each other.
That prevailed in the next few days to come. You and Jeongguk were going at it like—well, as you liked to describe him as—as bunnies. You two were practically never seen outside the hotel suite except for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, sometimes even skipping going to the buffet area and opted for room service instead. Though when all the oxytocin died down (there were still left, but controlled) and you weren’t taking the other’s clothes off in every chance that either of you could get, you went to the beaches and famous travel spots around the island.
There you had the opportunity to do all the things your busy lives couldn’t let you two do. Both of you went hiking to famous mountains, visited majestic waterfalls and caves—you and Jeongguk even went horseback riding where he showed you some serious skills that you don’t think you’ve had the chance to see before, and generally just headed to all the tourist attractions your itinerary contained. All throughout, you forgot about your life waiting in Seoul for a while, this honeymoon with Jeongguk proving to be an event that you most definitely wanted to recreate in the future if said life allowed you to.
“I don’t know if I’m aroused or disturbed,” Jeongguk whispered to you while you two stared at a sculpture of a man and a woman clearly having sex; the woman was doing some kind of handstand and the man was behind her, supporting her and quite frankly, had his penis inside her too. One of your destinations was the famous Loveland in Jeju Island, where apparently there was really a lot of R rated art involved all over the park just like what you’ve been briefed about.
You snickered. “Maybe we’ve been having sex too much that it’s not as exciting to see.” You tilted your head to the side to get a better look at it. The details amazed you.
“Absolutely not,” he disagreed with a scrunched forehead, gazing at the sculpture too in interest still. “Do you think we can do that position later?”
Your hand flew up to hit his chest at the sudden question, eyes widening. “Jeongguk!”
“What?” He was grinning already though. “Is it wrong for me to ask?”
“Can you not ask it at this second?” You laughed. Your face was already burning at just the thought of Jeongguk having you in that position.
“So, you’re down to do it then?”
“No,” you gave him a look, “and even if I was, I don’t think I can carry myself and be able to do what the lady is doing.”
He nodded as if he was in deep thought. Jeongguk was wearing a familiar button down polo that day, the same orangish yellow Fendi one you had teased him for when he first officially asked you out, and even in the five years that has passed, he still looked unbelievably delicious on it, his tattoos that have gained in number on full display and a new set of sunglasses hooked on the front of his top, tugging it lower than normal. “I mean, we can do it while on the bed, like without you doing the handstand.”
“You really want to try it, don’t you?”
“You mentioned us having sex and now you planted the idea, angel. It’s your fault.” He smirked.
You rolled your eyes and looped an arm around his. “Let’s get out of this place before you get any more ideas.”
“Is that a yes?”
“It’s a no, sweetheart.”
You still did it however—the revised version of course—that very night as well. You’ve concluded once more that there’s just no way you could ever resist Jeongguk the moment he begins working his charm. He knew exactly what to do to get what he wanted; you thought that it’s because he always got what he wanted too in the entirety of his existence that he was already a master in memorizing what people wanted to hear or see from him to make them do him the favor. At some point when you were just starting to get friendly with Jeongguk, you constantly teased him for being a spoiled grandson of the Don and he would retaliate playfully that you were a spoiled daughter too by your father. You had said that ‘okay, that makes us even then’, but you still thought that your level of being spoiled was no match to his.
Despite that, Jeongguk never appeared to be arrogant or entitled. He was raised well by his family who were the first to get a taste on how to slowly rise up to power by working diligently and then getting the eventual desired result. From what Jeongguk told you on the intimate nights you have shared before, his father introduced him to their business at a young age and taught him everything necessary to know, his knowledge increasing the same time his age did in due course. He studied overseas for college at the Don’s wishes, returned after he finished and got his degree, and met you officially a few months later when he entered your home with Inhwan. Since then and since you pursued a relationship with him, Jeongguk has never been anything but lovely. It caused you suspicion at first for you didn’t believe that a man your age could be that mature and that understanding, but Jeongguk was simply ‘built different’ that you later on went along with the fact that he was just truly extraordinary.
When the last four days of the honeymoon came in, business related calls were disturbing you and Jeongguk at random hours of the day. You had an associate you worked on a case with who was studying and running errands for you for the meantime, a minor real estate case that was going to have its first hearing in a month, and the topic he usually brought up when he continuously called or messaged you. Jeongguk, on the other hand, seemingly had more pressing issues with JSG; he was the President of the company after all.
You peeked out on the balcony where Jeongguk just answered a call. “Guk? The car we booked to that dining place just arrived. The driver’s already in the lobby.”
He glanced at you. His face was serious and he raised a hand up, a signal to ask you if you would wait. You nodded and pretended to let him mind his own business while you checked your purse if you’ve forgotten anything—you said pretended because even though you were doing all that, you stole subtle glances at his direction, his back facing you and the only view you had the opportunity to see through the glass door. However, his arm movements were still discernible and at the instance he suddenly brought a hand on top of his hair, distressed, head nodding vigorously, you were positive that he just received some kind of bad news.
You no longer hid how you were staring at him; you paused whatever it was that you were being busy with and waited until Jeongguk finished the call. As he did, he didn’t even bother putting his phone back in his pocket; he just raised the hand that was holding it to accompany the other one already on his hair before sitting down on the sun lounger with a motion that came out like he slipped. You didn’t think twice about marching out to talk to him.
“Hey,” you gently touched his back, “who was that? Anything wrong?”
Jeongguk looked up and your worry escalated when you got a glimpse of his tear-filled eyes. “He passed on, ____. Grandpop—he didn’t… he got another stroke and—Pop said he didn’t make it this time.”
“Oh my god—Guk, I’m so sorry.” You automatically engulfed him in an embrace and Jeongguk fully let himself cry in what felt like frustration, his face turning towards your neck where you felt his tears dampen your skin. You whispered words of comfort as he sobbed, rubbed his back and carressed the back of his head; Jeongguk showed you a newfound kind of vulnerability at the knowledge that his grandfather was no longer alive and made it apparent that you were going to be here for him and that everything was going to be okay.
You didn’t know the true impact of it—but the death of Don Jungsoo was definitely the last thing any member of the Jeon Family wanted, which meant unlike what you were murmuring, everything was not going to be okay.
━ CHAPTER V.
The trick with the wedding worked. Seokjin informed Jeongguk before he got in the car to the venue of the reception that there were for sure spies sent from the other prominent Seoul Families to oversee the ceremony. By that time, the associates would have already informed their Caporegimes and the Caporegimes would have already informed the underboss as well who would have relayed the message to their respective Dons. Jeongguk was glad to hear that, thankful that at least their efforts of arranging everything and marrying you quite early on than what both of you preferred didn't go to waste.
For the first week of the honeymoon, at early dawn when he woke up before you would, he’d shared a call with either Seokjin or his father. They included him in all business related transactions and heard his side to forward it with the Don when they discussed it with him. Don Jungsoo only approved or declined any plans they had or prepositions from other people they received, then Hanseo acted his demands out as the active underboss. Don Jungsoo was going to retire soon, the Godfather established it when he was restored to health, and wanted Hanseo and especially Jeongguk to be more concerned with the business now that he was a few steps away from officially handing over the business.
Though upon the Don’s sudden yet still foreseeable death, despite how they’ve been preparing for something as terrible as this to fall to the Jeon Family, Hanseo was still shaken to be deemed as the new Don of the clan and be the head of their syndicate. Even if he saw himself as adequate and intelligent enough for the position, Hanseo knew he wasn’t as great as the late Don Jungsoo to live up to his father’s shoes. Perhaps his son, Jeongguk, was more fit for it than he was ever going to be, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to bestow such responsibility unless Jeongguk was given no choice. For now, Hanseo had to do extremely good on his reign and prove to the members that he was deserving to be the Godfather.
Ultimately, Jeongguk took the death of his grandfather more badly than he thought. He was still rational and handled it the way Don Jungsoo would have wanted him to; however deep inside, there was a fire of hatred and anger burning inside of him that he only released in sessions at the gym where he boxed his frustration out, upset that Don Jungsoo’s passing had to happen when he was having the time of his life with you. He didn’t regret the honeymoon or wished that he had done anything differently in the last few weeks—it was just he didn’t understand why an unfortunate incident had to fall upon his Family when he thought things were beginning to go back to the way they were.
Jeongguk remembered how Don Jungsoo didn’t like the plan with the publicity stunt at the wedding when Hanseo informed him. He shook his head profusely, saying then that weddings are intimate ceremonies and should not be mixed with business; he said that he didn’t want his grandson to get married out of the blue just so they can show off his (then) improving health to the other Families.
“I was intending to marry ____ soon anyways, Grandpop,” Jeongguk reasoned. “Why not hit two birds with one stone?”
“You are?” Don Jungsoo mused. “You’re not saying that just to appease me?”
“It’s true,” Seokjin vouched for Jeongguk. “Guk’s been thinking about it even before we were planning this.”
The Don snorted and smiled, the first since a while. “Well, it’s about time. You need a woman like that in your life, Jeongguk. You don’t meet a lot of her kind these days.”
“I agree.” Jeongguk chuckled. “So, we’ll go forth with it, won’t we?”
The Don shrugged. “All I have to do is to not look sickly, don’t I?”
“Which I’m sure you’ll do fine, Pop,” Hanseo assured himself more than he did to Don Jungsoo. “Dr. Hwang said you’re improving. We’re going to plan the wedding and hold it as early as we can too.”
“Alright. Tell Inhwan not to spend a dime on his daughter’s wedding. I’m willing to pay for all the expenses.”
“That includes my share too, right?” Hanseo joked and the Don cracked another smile.
It did go on to be successful as they hoped. The Three Families that stood along them—the Lee Family, Yang Family, and Park Family—got the message that Don Jungsoo was well and managed to attend his grandson’s wedding in a great state. Operations continued to be quiet and the waging tension within the Mafia faltered as no one no longer questioned the health of Don Jungsoo, thus seeing the Jeon Family as credible once again. Of course, it wouldn’t have been too long as well before they all of the sudden hear the revelation that the same healthy man they were told about suffered a stroke while sleeping and no longer woke up.
“Let’s book the next flight back to Seoul,” you said after minutes of just holding Jeongguk in your arms. He was sobbing, his nose running and his head already thumping because of how hard he has been pouring his emotions out.
Jeongguk cried like a kid and he hated it whenever he did. It was not something he had control of though and he was just thankful that it was only you who had the chance to see him that way when he broke down after being called and notified by Hanseo. “Not yet,” Jeongguk replied, “I’ll, I’ll have to… I’ll have to call—”
“I’ll do it,” you finished for him, stroking his hair one last time and standing up to go back inside the room and get your phone.
He held your wrist; he looked a little disoriented to form his thoughts properly and his cheeks were still wet, his eyes glassy from sobbing. “No, ____, it’s best if—”
“I’m going to call my dad and he’ll be in charge of our flight back,” you cut him off again. “Or would you want me to call Seokjin instead?”
He stared at you, puzzled for a millisecond, but he was always under the impression that you already had an idea of what he and the Family truly did. You just didn’t confront him about it or made it too apparent that you knew something that wasn't intended to be known yet. Well, at least, not yet, you didn’t. “That would be better,” he affirmed your last statement. “But you should use my phone. This phone.”
You nodded and got the phone from his grasp before doing as said. Jeongguk was transparent to you early on that he used two phones; he used one for personal matters and the others for business affairs. Your number was on both devices.
Seokjin indeed handled yours and Jeongguk’s safe flight back. As you both arrived at the Jeon Residential Area—the place where the houses of the Don, Hanseo, Seokjin, and yours and Jeongguk’s were already built along with the other vacant ones intended for guests—there were a large number of men waiting for both of your arrival. Seokjin was there by the gate, a phone in his hand, talking to somebody else, though when he spotted the two of you getting out of the car, he rushed to end the call and walked towards Jeongguk, embracing the younger boy tightly with only one arm while he used the other to reach for you as well.
“I’m sorry the honeymoon was cut short,” Seokjin said.
“Jin, don’t be ridiculous, that shouldn’t be something to apologize for,” you answered.
“Grandma’s been crying for hours,” Seokjin said again, this time more to Jeongguk, “you two should go ahead and make your presence known.”
“You should go ahead, angel.” Jeongguk rubbed your back. “I’ll just talk to Jin for a bit.”
You nodded and walked to the front steps of the door. Once you entered and was out of earshot, Jeongguk turned back to his adoptive brother who had a melancholic expression. Seokjin’s eyes were a bit puffy and when he talked earlier, his voice was hoarse, meaning that like Jeongguk, he had been mourning over the death of the Don.
“Where’s Grandpop now?”
“At the mortuary. Your dad’s there with him and Inhwan and some members of his regime. They’ll be bringing him back in an hour or so or whatever how long it takes to get the old man ready. We’ll be holding the wake here in the house and they’re already preparing the space for it, some people are already cleaning it—the garden, that’s where it’ll be, yeah.” Seokjin appeared as disoriented as Jeongguk was in Jeju Island. “You have a cigarette, Guk?” he abruptly asked.
Jeongguk sighed at him. “No. I already quit, remember? I thought you did too.”
“Yeah, but I really need a smoke right now. All of this is making me crazy.” He sighed and glanced at some of the men who were nearby to where they were standing, one of them taking something from inside their jacket to reveal a cigarette box, Seokjin dashing to the guy and getting a stick, placing it between his lips and letting the soldier light it up for him. Returning next to Jeongguk again, he puffed out a smoke with a relieved breath. “Don’t tell my wife about this,” he told him.
Jeongguk grimaced. “I don’t need to. She’d smell it on you immediately. And seriously, Jin, you were doing well on not lighting a single cigarette for over a year.”
“Just one and I promise, I’ll stop,” Seokjin said and began speaking again, his previous sentence not taken seriously by himself. “I’m going to arrange a meeting with all of the Don’s important and political contacts after his funeral, one by one.” Seokjin got straight to the point. It was a time for grieving supposedly, but business doesn’t stop along with everything else when something terrible happens, and so Seokjin wanted to get it out the way as soon as Jeongguk arrived. “They’re going to be talking to Hanseo—I’ll be there too, of course, and so will you—and we’re going to see if they’ll remain affiliated with our Family. It’s best if we establish that early on and be clear where we stand. Without the Don, we’ll surely be losing half of our assets if Hanseo doesn’t convince them that they’ll still be gaining something from us.” He blew out more smoke.
Jeongguk watched it get lost by the windy night. “That’s good. We should keep the business going as it always has been. No need to make it a bigger deal than it really is. I mean, it is a big deal—we just don’t make it look that way to others, don’t make it seem like we’re lost or that we even think that the business is going to be hopeless from now on. It’s common sense and the obvious response but I wanted to reiterate it to let you know.”
“I get it. We can talk about that more when Hanseo gets home with the Don. We’ll discuss it too with Inhwan at the office.” Seokjin finished the cigarette quickly and threw it on the ground, crushing it with his feet. Though living within the Jeon Residential Area and accepted as an official member of the real Jeon family, he never once called the Don ‘Grandpop’ or Hanseo as his ‘Pop’. He always placed a barrier between himself and Jeongguk’s family but strangely cared for them like he was blood-related still. When it came to Jeongguk, he treated him like a real younger brother. “How are you, kid? Before I forget to ask and force you to go follow inside the house.”
Jeongguk chuckled halfheartedly. “I’m fine. I feel like shit. But I’m fine. You?”
“Likewise.” He snorted. “I’m just wishing that we’ll pull through this as smoothly as we can.”
They went inside after the short conversation and Jeongguk’s mood further deflated at the sight of his grandma in absolute tears. His mother, Yeonjin, was comforting the old lady and you were there doing the same, serving her with a warm cup of tea to soothe and calm her with Seokjin’s wife. Seokjin went to the kitchen to grab a mint and Jeongguk approached you four sat on the couch, going beside his grandmother and embracing her. He listened to her stories of distress, of how she loved the Don and has never loved another man in her whole life besides him. She said that though it hurt to have him leave earlier, she was glad that Don Jungsoo had passed in a peaceful death—in his sleep, and not by any means of violence, to which Jeongguk agreed to with a nod.
By 2:07 AM, Jeongguk’s uncles had arrived and they’ve taken his place beside the grieving wife of the Don who still couldn’t sleep until Don Jungsoo’s body and casket was placed at the garden and properly arranged. Jeongguk excused himself after giving his greetings to his uncles and subtly searched the house for you; he last seen you go upstairs where the bedrooms were with Yeonjin, and peeking at each one when he went upstairs to look harder, he saw you at one of the guest rooms, laying on the mattress though he was fast to notice that you had your eyes wide open to assume you were already sleeping.
He entered and purposely made enough noise to have you acknowledge him, and you did with a snap of your head to his direction, your eyes softening the second your gazes met. “Hey,” you said.
“Why aren’t you asleep?” He walked to the side of the bed where you were at. “Our luggages are back at our house, just so you know. We’d have to unpack but we can do that in the morning. The master’s bedroom is already ready though; you can sleep there for the night if you find it uncomfortable here.”
You slowly sat up and leaned back at the headboard. Jeongguk perched close to you and grabbed a hold of your hand on your stomach. “Aren’t you tired?” you questioned.
“I am.” He pressed his mouth together. “But I want to wait until they bring home Grandpop though. You should go to sleep, angel.”
“Why don’t you take a nap and I’ll wake you up when someone comes and finds you?”
“I think we both know better than to assume I’ll be waking up that easily with a nap.”
You chuckled. “I’ll kick you off the bed then if I have to.”
“I’ll wait with the others,” he said with a smile. “Besides, I haven’t talked to Pop in person. Haven’t seen Grandpop again either. I don’t want to wait too long for that.”
You nodded and fondled with his fingers. “Well, can you at least lay with me? For five minutes?”
Jeongguk chuckled, poking his tongue on his cheek before it was his turn to nod slowly, gesturing for you to move and give space for him. “For just five minutes.”
He laid down and wrapped an arm around your shoulders while you hugged his torso and pressed your cheek against his chest. You heard his fast beating heart, heard each breath he took, and the both of you said nothing for a short time. Jeonggguk ran his thumb up and down your arm and you played with the fabric of his shirt, the silence comforting yet daunting in an odd way for Jeongguk who abruptly thought of your actions back at the suite in Jeju. At that second, he was thinking if he should begin introducing the concept of the business to you—just a snippet of it—a vague description that would give you an answer but a lacking one for the events that would come. He could never explain the whole thing to you, the Cosa Nostra, unless it was the most ideal thing to do anyways; he stuck by their code and even if he didn’t, he didn’t want to stress you with the knowledge of what his Family did.
You managed to fall asleep in his arms and Jeongguk gently moved you to a better position on the bed before he kissed your temple, tucked you in, and left the room to go downstairs. It was 3:39 AM and he was sure that they were already arranging Don Jungsoo’s wake at the garden. His ears caught the engines of vehicles and the slams of the doors, followed by incoherent chatter and clicks of glasses that no doubt were shared by Caporegimes who fled from their territory to visit the Godfather.
“Guk,” Hanseo said when Jeongguk appeared from the staircase, “I’m glad that you’re here.” He was holding a glass of whiskey in another hand, eyes bloodshot and face looking older.
Jeongguk frowned as he walked towards him. “How are you, Pop?”
“We’re on our own now, Guk.” He ignored the question and clasped a hand on Jeongguk’s opposite shoulder. “I’m counting on you the most starting from now on. You got that? We have to keep the business running steady now that Pop’s gone.”
“Don’t worry,” he sighed, “we’ll sort it out.”
“I know, I know, of course, I do.” He drank the entirety of the glass in one gulp. “You’re my underboss now, kid. You’ve always been a strength in the Family—now I need you to divide your regime, your soldatos, to other factions—you’re going to be more hands on in this than you ever were.”
“Alright.” Jeongguk agreed. “I’ll do anything you want me to do. For now, you should stop drinking. You don’t want to get too drunk to entertain the soldatos and the guests that’ll go here. We have to talk too with Seokjin and Inhwan later.”
Hanseo nodded rapidly and to prove that he wasn’t going to drink more, placed the glass down on one of the tables in the living room with a rather loud thud. Jeongguk gave him a look but said nothing and just focused on striding to the garden where indeed the coffin of the Don was now situated. He inhaled deeply and watched the men from the funeral home organize the flowers and other necessary stands; his grandmother was also there, wiping the glass that enclosed Don Jungsoo in the casket that made approaching him harder for Jeongguk. Though when he and his grandma made contact and the old lady beckoned him to come closer like a child, he did and ashe saw him lying there, at peace and groomed in the best possible way, Jeongguk no longer found it hard to accept the reality of his passing, the thought that the Godfather deserved the long rest he had in stored now was enough to make Jeongguk feel better about it.
The wake of the late Don was attended by various personalities. The most controversial being policemen, judges, lawyers, prosecutors, and even politicians. Of course, the Dons of the other Three Families paid their respects as well, personally coming to the Jeon Residential Area and even going to the funeral afterwards when it was held a week after it. During that period, Jeongguk discussed with Hanseo and Seokjin repeatedly, sometimes including Inhwan at the meeting too. They handled everything needed to be addressed about the business; they went with what Seokjin said prior, which was talking with the contacts of Don Jungsoo and ensuring that their affiliation remained with the Jeon Family. Majority of them guaranteed that they’ll be honoring their friendship with the Don even after his death and that it can be counted on that their loyalty will still stand with their clan; the little others left though asked for understanding and some time to think about it for some organizations have also begun negotiating with them.
“It’s the Lee Family,” Hanseo said, sitting on the leather chair inside the office of Don Jungsoo; it felt strange to see him over there instead of his grandfather, Jeongguk thought, “they’re hoarding as much as they can. They’re trying to bring themselves to the top again. They even took the bait of Jang Yeocheol’s casino plans that Don Jungsoo didn’t want to take part in.”
“It’ll bring them more money, that’s why,” Seokjin said. “The casino will be used for narcotic operations. They’ve agreed to finance Yeocheol’s business and even pledged to protect him from the authorities with their legal contacts. It’s a logical route to go. Drugs are the leading commerce now, it’s being introduced in South Korea further; however, it’s the kind of filth Don Jungsoo didn’t want us to go with. He was already aggravated with the strip joints and all that when we caved into prosititution—drugs was the last thing he wanted to have associated with our Family.”
“Yeocheol will certainly want to talk to you again, Pop. He’ll want to restate and propose that we invest in him once more now that you’re the new Don. He’ll be hoping that you won’t have the same mindset as Grandpop and accept his offer this time,” Jeongguk told Hanseo.
“I wouldn’t want to go against one of my father’s last decisions.” Hanseo leaned back on his chair and sighed. “If Yeocheol arranges a meeting, we’ll entertain him, out of respect and courtesy. Ask a few questions too that we didn't get to ask last time for it was Pop leading. But we won’t dive into the business of narcotics, that’s already for sure. Do you have any objections about that, Consigliere?” He nodded at Seokjin.
“I’ll be honest,” Seokjin started off, “if it was Don Jungsoo who was about to get offered with it again, I would have said yes at this instance. Like I mentioned, drugs are the leading commerce these days, and I genuinely think it’d be good for us if we take a shot at it while it’s still slowly booming in the country.”
“But I’m not my father,” Hanseo supplied Seokjin’s reasoning early on and Seokjin nodded.
“You’re not, and we’re still at risk of losing some of our contacts and our legal defenses—one of them is even part of the Supreme Court and two are senior prosecutors. What Yeocheol wanted from us was legal protection, that was his main target, given Don Jungsoo’s connections and his power. So without that, I can only guess that his offer won’t be as grand as the last one. He’ll try to maybe it a little higher so we’ll bite, but the determining factor on how much we will gain from this is how much we will invest in the business still. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with that—it’s just that are we going to be comfortable with the fact that the Lee Family is going to gain more from it than we will?”
“I’ll go with you when he asks for another meeting,” Jeongguk said to Hanseo. “I’d like to hear his offers face to face again.”
“What happens when the offer’s good then? Do you think we should go for it?” Hanseo asked him.
Jeongguk shrugged. “I doubt it will be significantly better, or I at least doubt it’ll be better than the Lee’s. We’re going to be second in his priority list with that Family in the picture. But with the question of whether we should go for it or not, I’d like to reckon that we should. Let’s not involve ourselves with the operations though, it will be too risky for us, considering our state at the moment, but perhaps we should focus more on financing and a bit of what we could do for legal protection as an initial contribution to his business. Then we can see where it’ll take us or maybe we’ll just stick to that initial contribution, to honor what Grandpop’s would have wanted.”
Seokjin and Hanseo shared a look; the both of them were thinking of the same thing, Jeongguk had the same rationality, practicality, and leniency as his late grandfather. The way he even enlightened them with what he thought held the same aura as Don Jungsoo. “Okay,” Hanseo showed his approval with a raise of his eyebrows, “it’s time for us to wait for their move then.” He concluded their discussion at that note.
Another week passed and Seokjin received a call from Yeocheol himself, the man asking if he could arrange a meeting with the new Don of the Jeon Family just like what Jeongguk had predicted. Seokjin told him that he will contact him again after he forwards the message to Hanseo and within the next two days, the appointment was made to happen, Hanseo, Seokjin, and Jeongguk present at the private room inside a restaurant that Yeocheol booked for the occasion. There they discussed about the business, what Yeocheol wanted, what the Jeon Family would do and get if they partake in it, and at the end, Hanseo still declined as what Don Jungsoo did—the only difference was that Don Jungsoo was better with his words and better at appeasing the person he’s breaking the news on that the Jeon Family will not meddle with their affairs.
In Hanseo’s case, he didn’t possess that kind of ability, didn’t have a smooth tongue or the charm to win the favor of the opposing party despite his decision, and so when they left the venue, Yeocheol was mad and contacted the Consigliere of the Lee Family. He was going to make Hanseo regret his choice and withdraw it.
━ CHAPTER VI.
RMEC Law Firm was recognized to be one of the best law firms in the state. It garnered clients with high ranks in your society and housed lawyers at the top of their game, including you who was appointed as an associate in the two years you’ve been lending your service to the company. Don Jungsoo asked Seokjin to endorse you to the Chairman after you passed the bar exam and Mr. Kim, the mentioned Chairman, in respect and with the aim to give back to the Don’s generosity for what the latter has done to him before, gladly took you in and played a big part in boosting the early stage of your career by assigning you to their uppermost clients.
You have been so grateful to Don Jungsoo, you expressed your thanks by sending flowers that he liked to his main office and boxes stocke bread that he liked to share with his men, and it was well appreciated by the Don as Jeongguk told you when the both of you saw each other that very day, saying that the Don was glad to see such a gesture from you.
Now, it has been almost two months since Don Jungsoo’s death; things were going back to normal but at the same time, going off to another direction. His family no longer looked disheartened or grieved so openly like they did on the first days of his passing; they were more focused on maintaining the JSG Group’s reputation and business to still be caught up with their own personal stress of losing a loved one. From your husband’s words when you asked if he was truly fine, the Don would have wanted them to move on quickly and get on with life rather than mourn never endingly—so that is what they were doing.
Three knocks on the door to your office made you look up from the papers you were reading and when you did, your gaze fell on Jeongguk who had a hand on the handle and a handsome smile on his features. You returned the smile and marked the last page you were scanning before standing up to meet him halfway.
“You didn’t say you were going to visit,” you said with a chuckle, Jeongguk placing a paper bag on the long table you had in your space before stretching his arms out.
“If I did, it wouldn’t be a surprise.” He embraced you and kissed you swiftly on the lips.
“Still, a warning would have been nice.”
Another kiss and he leaned away after, you instinctively glanced at the glass windows to check if anyone was there snooping. You had learned it the hard way when a couple of associates saw Jeongguk burying his head on your neck in mid-make out session and biting along your clavicle when he visited you in the past; that act of his became a hot topic for a solid month—how the extremely attractive and rich fiancé then of ____ was close to eating her alive in her office.
However, that wasn’t the reason why you were cautious at the moment. Aside from the teasing that you received from your co-workers when they heard the rather spicy incident, there were also questions that arose that time that made you uncomfortable and a little worried for they were clearly said with malicious intent about Jeongguk’s family.
“Is it true that he’s the grandson of the mobster?” a female junior associate of the firm asked you, bumping elbows with you while all of you waited for the President to arrive at the conference room. It was the perfect moment to bring such a topic up as all of the lawyers were there to curiously listen.
“He’s probably a part of it too.” Another one, a male and a few years older, reckoned with a chuckle. “It’s a family business when it comes to those things.”
They looked at you to wait for an answer but you only pressed your mouth together, an action that meant you were clearly going to keep your lips sealed and not give them the satisfaction of biting back. You were still considered a rookie within the respected lawyers sitting with you at the long table and therefore didn’t want to cause any fuss on your part.
“His family runs JSG Group, a shareholder of this law firm,” Namjoon, the son of the Chairman who also worked as an attorney in the firm, piped in nonchalantly in behalf of you and you turned your eyes on him along with the others there, “and I don’t think it’s good to conspire and gossip against a member of a major shareholder, Mr. Oh.”
“We’re not conspiring, Namjoon. We’re just joking and bantering here. Aren’t we, ____? Mobsters aren’t a thing now anyways. This isn’t the 1950s. It’s not like the Mafia is still here.” The former man grinned at you as if you were good friends.
You didn’t answer again; you just kept on staring at him with a blank face until he grew disturbed and was looking at the woman earlier for a supporting comment. She didn’t say anything too though, and the two of them settled uncomfortably on their seats and feigned innocence as they brought another topic to the table.
You smiled at Namjoon in thanks and he gave you a small nod, resuming his skimming on the folder in front of him. He was untouchable because of his position and influence in the company; you were glad that he was your senior when you were only interning in the firm.
In regards to what your two co-workers mentioned about Jeongguk’s family business, you decided not to concern yourself with it further by searching for answers. They didn’t try poking you around with their ill-natured remarks after the incident at the conference room; they left you alone pretty much the following weeks, avoiding you like the plague but you couldn’t care less to wonder why their approach to you drastically shifted. Deep down though, you were assuming that it had something to do with their stunt reaching the Jeon Family, particularly Jeongguk who might have heard what happened through Namjoon as they were friends themselves.
You already had an idea that the reason why Don Jungsoo was so respected and acclaimed was because of something related to that kind of occupation or involvement with affairs that weren’t exactly clean business; it explained why their family a lot of enemies, why a lot feared them, why majority sought for the day that Don Jungsoo’s empire would fall. That’s why you kept a safe distance from it all as well—because you didn’t know how you would react when you do confront Jeongguk about it and he verifies your theories. Just like what’s been happening since the late Don’s death; you were aware that something was going on within the business due to Jeongguk’s frequent bad moods and his late night departures. He has been busy for the past weeks and has been stuck with his father or Seokjin most of the time too—you noticed and acknowledged all of that but didn’t say a word about it. You’ve been in this kind of phase with your dad, wherein you wondered and got worried all the time, so you had a clue or two on how to live with it with forced ease and ignorance.
Jeongguk followed your glances at the windows and smirked. “Paranoid that someone will catch us again?”
You went back to him and snorted. “You really know how to read my mind.” You proceeded on walking to the paper bag where there were small boxes of take-out from your favorite dining place. “What’s with the surprise visit though?”
“Can’t a husband surprise his wife at work?” He snatched another kiss, on your cheek instead, and helped you in unpacking.
You gave him a look of teasing doubt, causing him to chuckle. Jeongguk was always sweet and loving, but he wasn’t one to think of surprises or gestures of affection like this for you to believe him.
“What’s with that look?” he exclaimed with a laugh.
“Oh, you know what this look means, sweetheart.”
He rolled his eyes, surrendering then. “Fine. I know I’ve been absent, alright?” he explained. “I just wanna make it up to you.”
You smiled. “That’s very sweet of you, Guk, but you do know that I understand that things have been busy right? You don’t have to force yourself to do these things just because of guilt.”
“They’re not just because of guilt, silly. I’ve been missing you too. I came here because I wanted to see you.”
Your smile widened to a grin. “So, does that mean you’ll be joining me here? You’ll eat this lunch with me?” You were hopeful now but he frowned right away. He has been absent a lot. You’ve spent many nights being able to fall asleep on the bed and not have him beside you.
“Uh, not now,” he sighed as he gave you the direct answer, “later though, I promise. I’ll join you for dinner—I’ll even cook for dinner and then you can have me all night.”
“Is that for real this time? You won’t run away while I’m taking your pants off because someone called?” You reminded him of what happened the other day when you two were heading to business and then he abruptly left you to take care of matters concerning the company.
“Yes, I won’t bail on you tonight.” He moved behind you, hugging you from there and encircling his arms around your waist. “Pop’s heading somewhere too and Seokjin has the same plans as I do, which is to obviously woo the wife. So, I swear, you’ll have me as much as you want, angel.”
You laughed, swiftly kissing his exposed cheek as he laid his chin on your shoulder. “Good. Also, now that you mentioned it, I think Dad’s going to be with Pop. I invited him for dinner first since he kept on saying he was feeling lonely with me not always in the house anymore but then he said he had plans tonight.”
“Dad has been guilt tripping me about that too.” Jeongguk chuckled. “He said that since I took his daughter away, he’s starting to know more about the rooms of the villa. Has he told you that he’s turning one of the guest rooms to a home bar?”
“Wow. He decides to do that the second I move out, huh?”
“It’s a fun concept. Just wish he had done it too when I had more reasons to go there.”
You snorted and Jeongguk grinned.
As you finished placing the take-out on the table and opening all the containers, Jeongguk made it known again that he wouldn’t be able to stay long and that he had to go; he had a meeting with a potential investor, he said, though he added as well that your dinners plan with him later will still go according to plan like he promised. You nodded and he gave you a long kiss on the mouth and on the forehead as an apology for going out so soon before leaving you alone to eat the delicious lunch he bought for you, which didn’t seem as appetizing as it usually was without Jeongguk to share it with.
At 7:31 PM, you were driven home to the Jeon Residential Area by your chauffeur. Arriving at the huge gate that secured the premises, you took note of the seemingly hundreds of men hired to guard the whole sector while the vehicle you were riding passed through. They doubled the security four days ago for a reason you didn’t know—and you didn’t ask, just mentioned it casually one time as a way of saying that you found it still concerning despite your indifference; Jeongguk assured you that it was nothing to worry about and it was just—as he always says—a precaution.
You thanked your driver as he parked in front of your home with your husband and bid your good night, hopping out and walking towards the front door. The car only left when you had closed the door and were taking your shoes off, the smell of familiar home cooked food blessing your nostrils that you hurriedly went to the kitchen to see what it was. You were definitely surprised to see Jeongguk behind the stove with an apron on the moment you stepped in, and you remembered a part of his promise where he claimed he was going to cook dinner for the two of you tonight.
“You really are cooking,” you said with an amused huff.
He lifted his gaze up and placed his spoon down. “Correction, I cooked. Past tense. I’m already done. You’re right in time.”
“Is it any good?” you teased; you marched forward to give him a kiss of greeting on the lips which he happily obliged to.
“Of course, it is. You insult me, angel.”
“I was kidding.” You swayed your hip towards his to set him off balance.
He chuckled and pinched your side as a payback that you whined at before he nodded to the dining table and turned off the stove. “Let’s set up the table and eat.”
“Okay.”
Among the other things that Jeongguk hasn’t been doing because of the past busy month was cooking, and it was because of that reason too why having dinner with the food he just cooked made the night a special one compared to the others in a while. He truly cooked better than you and was more useful in the kitchen. You were sure of that because unlike you, he grew up with a mother and a grandmother who taught him all the basics and guided him with the recipes he knew of today. You, on the other hand, mostly relied on YouTube video tutorials and did a lot of trials and errors on your own. It wasn’t until you and Jeongguk were getting serious that you began learning from Yeonjin to be a better cook yourself.
“What do we have for dessert?” you asked after swallowing your last spoonful of rice. What he prepared was delicious and fulfilling that you’ve been going on about how good it was while you ate, your husband’s ears reddening at the endless compliments. Not one to draw attention to himself for a long time though when it came to you, he’d ask you more about your day and open random subjects to get out of the limelight.
Jeongguk glanced at you; he still wasn’t done eating. “Each other.”
You kicked him under the table and he almost choked, startled. “You’re ruining my mood for good food, sweetheart.”
“Am I not good food?”
“You’re not even food.”
“Okay, I’ll rephrase that—am I not good to eat?”
You snickered and continued staring at him, the grin on your face remaining. He really was the most ridiculous man you have ever met sometimes. It was one of the qualities you loved most about him too though.
“There’s ice cream on the fridge,” he added shortly with a laugh and you thanked him immediately, standing up to get yourselves some mugs so you can start scooping for the both of you. He was in the middle of drinking water when the doorbell rang multiple times, sort of like in a frenzy, and he placed the glass down to attend to it. “I’ll get that.”
You watched him leave his chair and you went back to your quest. It was probably Seokjin who was ringing the doorbell at this time of the night, you thought, as he was the only one present in the Jeon Residential Area like you and Jeongguk were. This kind of circumstance happened frequently anyways that you didn’t even bat an eye as the sound of the doorbell echoed inside the house, you just assumed that it was his brother who wanted to talk to him urgently about god knows what. Though you can’t lie and say that you didn’t find the frantic doorbell ringing didn’t put you off guard even a little bit.
You were glad actually to have someone as close as Seokjin within the compound. It enabled impromptu lunch double dates with his wife who you were getting close with since you got engaged to Jeongguk. She was a beautiful and nice lady, only three years older than you were; she worked as a preschool teacher in a nearby school, which you praised her for because you don’t think you’d have the same exact patience as her when it came to kids to tolerate a job like hers.
“That son of a bitch!”
The ice cream scooper you held fell on the sink where you were washing it because of Jeongguk’s sudden booming voice and shout of profanity. You froze for exactly two seconds, time moving slowly, your heartbeat quickening, and with the wariness that was beginning to erupt in your system because of what you heard, you headed to the hallway where the front door was to see what the commotion was all about.
There you saw Seokjin hissing at Jeongguk, his hands firmly gripping his shoulders, his words inaudible and incoherent from the distance between you and the two of them; as you made your presence known, Seokjin’s eyes flickered to you and his eyes softened for a quick second, a look of downcast falling on his features.
“Hey, Jin,” you started it off casually, your voice unconsciously quivering at the nerves, “I thought you were off to woo the wife?”
Seokjin stared at you in a manner that you didn’t like. It screamed pity and guilt and sadness and the next thing you know, he was turning away from you in frustration, his hands on his hips as he faced the other side of the front door that was still open. You snapped your gaze to Jeongguk then and he was approaching you, his eyes glassy and stern; in each step he took, your heart dropped lower and lower, the uncertainty and the possibilities of what might have happened supplying frightening thoughts in your mind. It all came to a stop when Jeongguk carefully held both of your cheeks, his thumb rubbing your skin gently as if you were this fragile being.
“Guk,” you gritted your teeth, the anxiety was bubbling up too fast for you to handle; you’ve just been enjoying dinner with him, what have possibly gone wrong for the mood to shift like this? “what is it? Is everything alright?”
“Angel, listen hard, okay? I don’t want to repeat it again,” he said in almost like a hushed mumble. He knitted his eyebrows together, his tears piling up further—were they in sadness or anger? You weren’t so sure yet. “Pop and Dad got shot. We don’t have a definite lead on who might have caused it and now they’re in the hospital. But ____, Dad… your father… he didn’t—they couldn’t do anything anymore.”
Your heart was sent crashing down, you even think that you heard them shatter to pieces. His words entered your ears effectively but they weren’t processing well. You felt sick all of the sudden and your head was starting to hurt at this overwhelming want to sob, your eyes welling up. “What?”
Jeongguk gulped, his palms moving from your cheeks to your hair in an attempt to caress you in comfort. “He didn’t make it, angel. When they arrived at the scene, there was no pulse.”
“What? That can’t be true.”
“They did everything they could.”
“No,” you held on to his wrists, pushing him back, but he was strong and so he stayed holding you, “no, no, no, Guk—what? He can’t be—that’s not possible—it can’t be. I was just talking to him earlier—I even sent him a text while I was being driven home—” you were starting to hyperventilate, your tears running down. Jeongguk pulled you to his chest; you were thrashing and you were sobbing uncontrollably, the reality in which your father was dead was sinking in and causing your temples to ache further— “no, he can’t be—whoever told you that—it’s bullshit!” You looked up at Jeongguk, the way you looked at him was pleading, in defeat; your gaze was telling him that you wanted him to tell you the opposite, you wanted him to assure you that Inhwan was still alive. “Tell Seokjin—whoever it was that said, that said that—that said that Dad is dead—is a liar!”
He only stared at you in return, his own tears falling on his face. Inhwan was a prominent figure in his life as well, and to say that he was devastated and angry by the news would be an understatement. The sight of hum crying with you made you sob harder, his expression of loss and regret; it made your knees weak and your surroundings ringing deafeningly that caused Jeongguk to carry you in his arms better—it was getting impossible to breathe then and your vision was turning crucially blurry.
“I’m sorry,” Jeongguk whispered, embracing you tight, letting you sob hard on his chest, “I’m so sorry, angel. I’m so sorry.”
Before you could even think of replying, to demand an answer from him why he was apologizing, you passed out in shock of the overwhelming events, and Jeongguk caught you quickly, shouting at Seokjin who rushed back inside to get you. Together they carried you to the living room sofa, Jeongguk ordering Seokjin to get a glass of water while Jeongguk called Yeonjin if she could come to your household and take care of you. His mother agreed, already aware of the unfortunate event, and after they said their assuring words to each other, Jeongguk hung up and waited until you woke up.
As you did, your eyes blinking and brimming with tears once more, he kissed your forehead and stroked your hair. “I’m going to take care of this,” he said in a promise. You were coming back to your senses and you were remembering what your father suffered from. “I’ll handle this. I’ll find out who did it and, and—I’ll kill the bastard myself.”
You were still groggy and disoriented but you understood his statement perfectly. You gazed at your husband and saw now a new guise being shown on his face; it was familiar and foreign all at the same time. You’ve seen him aggravated before, have seen him being so frustrated when things didn’t go his way—but this right here… this dangerous and angry bearing he had, it was a totally different expression that you haven’t had the chance to see in the past decade of knowing him. It scared you and it urged you to think about Jeongguk’s well-being more than the horrible news earlier for a split second. “Jeongguk…” you whimpered.
“I’ll kill him.” His jaw was clenched. “I’ll make him regret what he did, angel. I promise.”
“Guk…” you breathed out and tugged on his forearm. He looked at your grip and allowed you to pull him towards you, to wrap your arms around his neck to cry some more. He sighed against your neck, whispered his apologies over and over again though with no explanations why, and when you decided to finally respond to what he was telling you, Jeongguk stiffened in surprise, not expecting that you would request such a thing, especially at your state, but who was he to judge and deprive you of the opportunity? So, nodding and kissing your cheek, he agreed.
You just told him you wanted to kill the man who did the shooting incident that led to your father’s death yourself, and indeed that was going to be what Jeongguk would enable you to do.
━ CHAPTER VII.
The bastard’s name was Lim Sehyung, a man who was an associate for the Lee Family. He was known to be precise and attentive to what is being asked of him by the Caporegime he was under, and for his latest assignment, he was to shoot the Don of the Jeon Family as a threat from the Lee clan that meant Yeocheol, who was under their wing, meant serious business.
To do that successfully, he followed the pattern of Hanseo’s whereabouts, he bribed a dishonest Mafioso within the Jeon clan, and offered the person more money if he gave the information that Sehyung needed. In only two weeks after his Caporegime told him of what he needed to do, he executed and met the unsuspecting Don Hanseo while he was leaving a restaurant with his Caporegime, Inhwan. He shot the Boss three times, all in the parts that wouldn’t be fatal because his death was not what the Lee Family wanted yet, but he wasn’t as merciful to Inhwan who he showered with bullets and who fiercely fought back, shooting even the latter’s forehead for a safety measure.
Within the two weeks after he committed the crime as well, the same Mafioso he bribed would be forced to reveal Sehyung’s identity as the soldato of the Lee clan who did such a terrible act—the said mafioso was beaten until he spilled the beans when Seokjin received the tip that he was was the one who sent the details of Hanseo’s frequent whereabouts to Sehyung, and when he did confirm that he was the one who betrayed his Family and conspired with Sehyung, in Jeongguk’s rage, he personally sliced the mafioso’s tongue off, asking Yoongi, who was the reserve Caporegime of Inhwan’s faction and was the acting one upon his captain’s death, to send the piece of muscle to Sehyung as a warning that they were aware of his doings and that he would be next. As Yoongi agreed and got to business, Jeongguk shot the mafioso with one bullet to his brain.
That was one of the few times that Jeongguk’s anger got the best of him. Because of the Lee Family’s schemes, his father was in the hospital trying to recover from his bullet wounds and his wife, you, just lost her father; to top that all of, he was now hailed as Don Jeon, the head of their syndicate with Hanseo’s bad condition and his uncle who didn’t have the wits to lead willingly giving the title to him. Jeongguk accepted the responsibility right away as soon as Seokjin informed him of the shooting, knowing that it was him who was supposed to help his late grandfather’s empire rise up again, and even that was a hard task on its own, what he found harder was breaking the news to you that night when your dad was murdered.
Inhwan was cremated after you visited his body at the morgue. Jeongguk was there with you when you did, and he took note of how you only hugged and sobbed against the lifeless body of Inhwan; you didn’t pull the sheet away from his face to look at him for one last time. When Jeongguk asked you about it as gently as he could, you told him that you didn’t want your last memory of your father to be of an unrecognizable dead man’s face who was killed without mercy.
Your answer made Jeongguk angry again though he had more control of his temper by that time and knew he had to be logical now in the steps he would be taking in the future. Amidst all the noise and the tabloids spreading more dirt about the Jeon Family because of Hanseo’s misfortune however, Jeongguk never heard one question from you about it or at least an answer why your father was involved with the mess and had received the most lethal blow. He knew then that you knew of what he did and what his Family was capable of; he guessed that he should have known anyways because of what he said on the couch the night the two men were shot and what you said in response to his proposal.
Seokjin helped you with the legalities regarding the winery. He was the one who pulled the strings and transferred all the entities to your name. It wasn’t a hard task and a big deal since you were married to the Chairman—Jeongguk was now the acting Chairman as well—so, just like that, you were appointed as the new CEO to lead the wine company.
“Guk,” you murmured to him before sleeping, two days before you would meet the man who arranged the demise of Inhwan, “promise me you’ll always be safe.”
He exhaled harshly, pressing his mouth on the corner of your lips. “I promise, angel.” It was a white lie. In the business, he could never be safe, but he would try to do better from that on just for you.
“You’re the only one I have now.” You told him that in a showcase of vulnerability and your voice trembled as you did. “I can’t afford to lose you too.”
“You won’t.” He ran his fingers through your hair, lulling you to sleep for it was only then he’s able to leave you to the care of his mother. “I’ll always be here. I won’t go anywhere. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”
You cracked a smile, though a tear also fell out of your eye in that instance and he held you in his arms again until you were truly asleep. He left you in his mother’s safe keeping, hugged and assured his mother too that everything was going to be fine, and left that night to go to his grandfather’s house where the main office for operations was still organized and discussed with his Consigliere, Seokjin.
There they devised a plan that would be soon the prominent factor of why a war between the Four Mafia Families of Seoul would commence, the infamous bloodshed making it to national television as men were found dead on the streets and institutions were burned to the ground—and alongside that plan was the objective of being the winning syndicate out of the four, the strongest Family to be glorified and recognized, a ploy that would also be successful in months to come thanks to the combined ruthlessness of Jeongguk for their enemies and Seokjin’s intelligence that contributed to their excellent strategies.
His prime concern for now was having Sehyung pay for what he did to Hanseo and to Inhwan. On early Monday morning, Jeongguk had the solution for that problem as Yoongi called him and informed that they had taken Sehyung into captivity. He was pleased and impressed that Inhwan’s reserve Caporegime was truly competent to do the job right; he told Yoongi that he would receive a great sum of money for his adequacy and relayed to him all the details on where to bring Sehyung and what to do with him for the meanwhile.
“You think ____ can do it?” Seokjin asked him a day before Sehyung’s murder. They were lounging in the office, at their grandfather’s den, having just finidhed talking to some men over the phone to carry out their plans.
“Do what?”
“Kill someone.”
“I don’t know.” Jeongguk shrugged and brought his glass of whiskey to his lips; despite his nonchalance, he was greatly worried about you. “____’s capable of anything as long as she puts her mind to it.”
“Yeah, but killing someone, Guk. That’s a whole different story and you know it.”
“I won’t force it on her. I’m just giving her what she wants—if she decides not to do it, I’ll gladly finish the job.”
“You sure she wants that? She wasn’t just acting out of her emotions that night?”
“I asked her a couple more times after that night and believe me, she’s… she really wants to do it.”
Seokjin nodded in understanding and Jeongguk, who knew where his brother was coming from, made sure you were still 100% on board with your idea on the day he was going to bring you to the warehouse where Sehyung was already beaten like a pulp, like the soldato he trusted and conspired with, already on the brink of death and the only thing keeping him from hell was the bullet you were going to shoot.
Jeongguk knew you weren’t one to be squeamish easily, but if you were to see someone being beaten and kicked over and over, pieces of their flesh flying everywhere, he wasn’t so sure if that was still going to be the case; that’s why he opted not to let you watch the bastard get beaten in front of your eyes.
“You sure you want to do this?” Jeongguk questioned as you both got out of the vehicle. The warehouse you were walking on was a favorite torture place by the Jeon Family; it was only natural that Sehyung was going to be executed here. “I’m giving you an out right now. I’ll send you home with Seokjin and I’ll do it.”
“No.” Your expression was serious but your tone was uncertain. “I need to do this.”
“You don’t need to do anything. If you’re doing this because you think Inhwan would have wanted it for you—”
“Why else would he have taught me how to use the gun?”
“For self-protection,” he replied coolly.
You glanced at him, your eyes wary and yet determined, and he held out his hand. You sighed, taking it, and he led you to the doors where a couple of his men were there along with Seokjin, Yoongi, and of course, Sehyung who was tied in a chair. Stepping past the entrance, he caught a clearer sight of the bastard’s face and saw that it was almost indescribable by how much they’ve assaulted it; from the way your hold tightens on his hand, Jeongguk knows you were seeing it too.
“You sure you want to do this?” It was Seokjin who asked you that again while he approached you two, a gun ready in his hand. “Have you ever held one of these things before, princess?” He teased you.
“What do you take me for, Jin?” You had the nerve to chuckle.
“I’m just making sure you know what you’re doing,” Seokjin said, handing the gun not to you at first, but to Jeongguk. “Can’t turn back time once it’s been done.”
“He’s right,” Jeongguk agreed. “One last time, angel. You can back out now and I’ll do it.”
“I want to do it.” You gritted your teeth together. “I thought you were going to let me do it?” You were staring at Jeongguk with a hard gaze.
He returned your stare; he was analyzing every feature on your face, trying to detect anything that would give off your reluctance. Seeing none, only your frustration, your glassy eyes, and your pressed lips, he picked your wrist up and placed the grip of the gun on your palm. “Safety lock is still on. Do as you like then.”
You huffed out a breath and strode forward to where Sehyung was situated. Jeongguk followed but stopped at a distance to give you your space, Seokjin following beside him and halting at the same time, copying his movements. Together they watched you stand a few centimeters away from the man who shot your father, your arms raising and the gun you’re holding being pointed at Sehyung immediately.
Sehyung sat there immobile. His eyes were opened but you could barely see that they were because of how swollen it appeared. His whole face was a bloody mess and so was his body, streaks of blood shown on his clothes and some still pouring from cuts on his skin. As he noticed your presence before him, he lifted his head up, smiled mockingly, scoffed—and then with every last bit of strength he had, he spat blood beneath your feet and chuckled.
It was in that second, when Jeongguk thought you were finally brave enough to pull the trigger as soon as possible, that your hands began shaking, the breath you let out quivering as if you were cold. It was the least of what he was expecting from you—he reckoned that you would have shot the man at exactly the instance a droplet of blood landed on your shoe in irritation of what Sehyung still had the guts to do—but it made you react the opposite, made you second guess your actions and hesitate.
“Whaing ait yor ating fore?” Sehyung’s speech was gibberish as he taunted you, a large number of his teeth no longer in his mouth and his consciousness was fading out slowly. “Kill me, you bitch!”
Jeongguk gazed at you from behind, waiting like the rest, his fist was formed beside him in anger of what Sehyung uttered but he controlled himself to give you your chance—to give you what you asked him to. Everyone present anticipated your next move, to see the wife of the Don commit the same grave sin they have to be a made man. However, when the sound of your scared whimper entered his ears instead of the fire of a gun, when he saw your composed stance loosening and your feet staggering back because of the intimidation of your father’s killer, Jeongguk dashed forward automatically, threw the promise he made to let you shoot the man far off his mind at that instance, and positioned himself behind you, one of his hands on your shoulder and one on both of your hands that were holding the weapon.
You had all the nerve and the determination in the world for a lot of things; you studied law, you handled pezzonovantes as clients, you managed to be with Jeongguk even on the days you knew there was serious danger lurking around him and his family—but out of all the things you’ve been brave for, you certainly couldn’t do it for this one, and Jeongguk didn’t want you to go forth with something you obviously weren’t ready to do. He realized then at your reluctance and frightened state that he didn’t want you to get blood on your hands, to be responsible for another person’s death. You were one of the few glorious things in his life, the guardian on his shoulder that reminded him of the goodness still in this world, and he wasn’t going to change that just because of what you thought you wanted to do.
Ever so gently, he took the gun from your grasp and moved his palm from your shoulder to your eyes, covering them, using it to turn you around until he pulled you to his chest. There you sobbed, latched onto his shirt, and whispered apologies for not being able to get on with but Jeongguk didn’t mind them, he was focusing on holding the gun properly with one hand to assure you that you didn’t do anything wrong, the best he could do was just shush you in comfort.
“It’s okay, angel,” he mumbled, his hand on your eyes moving to the back of your hair, caressing it while he continued to shush you like a baby. “I’ll do it for you.” He pressed a kiss on your temple.
As the last syllable flowed from his mouth, he didn’t prolong it any longer and shot Sehyung twice—one on the head for what he did to Inhwan and the other on the mouth for the foul name he called you. You flinched in his arms at the booming sound, much more because of the sudden drop of Sehyung’s chair backward at the force of the bullet lunging in his brain, and Jeongguk calmly handed the gun to Yoongi who was waiting by the side to get it from him.
At the same time Jeongguk shot Sehyung, a soldato of the Jeon Family shot the underboss of the Lee clan while he was exiting the golf he frequented in at another location, and while that was taking place, another also gave Jang Yeocheol the taste of his own medicine under Seokjin’s orders for planning such treachery to the Jeon Family. Those murders would erupt the war between the Four Families of Seoul and would force Jeongguk to urge his Family (and all his loved ones) to go to the mattresses with him to protect themselves from the awaiting bloodshed from the rivalring organizations.
“It’s done,” he said.
You exhaled, nodding, and instead of being repulsed for witnessing Jeongguk murder a man in front of you like he abruptly feared as the bullet went through Sehyung’s forehead, the thought occurring to him that he has shown his worst side to the woman he loved, you embraced him tight and took heavy breaths to calm yourself. It was then that Jeongguk vowed to himself that he will never let you see him kill or harm another man ever again.
He was positive now that you were absolutely certain of what he could do, what his Family was capable of, and how much power they truly possessed. For the months to come, he would have to be more transparent to you than he has ever been before to keep you safe and to assure you that he too was going to be safe. The War of the Four Families was going to be the reason why you would be the first lady to join the Mafia in the Jeon Family, joining hands with Jeongguk and Seokjin as the three of you bring your clan back to the summit.
“Thank you,” you murmured and he looked down at you, strange to hear your gratitude considering what he did to obtain it. He was still expecting you to run away or to at least stare at him with disgust. The only thing you did was keep him closer to you, not wanting to let go.
He smiled and kissed your hair. Jeongguk was going to look after you until his very last moment on earth, both for his sake and for the sake of your late father.
“Anything for you, my angel.”
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THANK YOU FOR READING & FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS APPRECIATED ! ♡(ˆ‿ˆԅ)
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tagging: @mercurygguk @fan-ati--c @moonchild1 @unicornbabylover @shameless-army @1-800-seo @fancystrawberrynerd @dreamamubarak (striked means tumblr wouldn’t let me tag them !)
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jjksblackgf · 9 months ago
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the art of eating you out | series masterlist
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synopsis  — "You will have no trouble understanding poetry when I slide my tongue between your legs” unknown  
genre  — smut, pwp
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soft cushion pairing  — seokjin x female reader status — released, read here summary  — “His favorite view was, now, the contrast between the melanin of your skin and the red lingerie he bought for you as you danced on his lap.”
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garfield pairing  — yoongi x female reader status — released, read here summary  — “If he knew that you studying Spanish was going to be a huge turn on - and distraction, he would’ve invited you over sooner.”
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nibbling it pairing  — hoseok x female reader status — released, read here summary  — “There’s no better way of spending his free friday night than with you, on his knees, you tugging his hair as a plead to go faster” 
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weak in the knees pairing  — namjoon x female reader status — released, read here summary  — “He just loved the sight of your oiled body in his bed, as the light of the candles glistened gold in your chocolate skin”
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edgelord pairing  — jimin x female reader status — released, read here summary  — “He stop his kisses at the end of the trail, so close to your core that he can feel the heat in his cheek”
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shh! pairing  — taehyung x female reader status — released, read here summary  — “Would this time be the time where a photographer was following us, ready to destroy our future?”
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manuka honey pairing  — jungkook x female reader status — released, read here summary  — “He would then ask for a dance, and later he would take you to his room, so he could bend you over and make you moan his name”
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