Visit Blog
Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.
#bts fic
extravaguk · 2 months ago
Tumblr media
pairing: jungkook x reader
summary: But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.
Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.
wordcount: 15k
genre: summer!au, ex high school classmaters, kinda frenemies to lovers, tattoo artist!&piercing artist!jungkook, popular!reader
rated: m (fluff - smut - angst)
warnings: you broke jungkook's heart you bitch!! , oral sex (m&f), protected sex (shocking tbh), CL as your bestie it doesnt get better than that! idk i dont wanna spoil too much
author's note: fucking finally dude!! i've been writing this since february but school was kicking my ass. now that i finished my exams and mercury is in gemini i was able to finish it. if you read this, i hope you enjoy it!
Tumblr media
You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping the flyer too tightly, rumpling the paper in your hand until you're pretty much sure it's ruined. It's the first day of June, and it's already too hot. The sun and humid weather are causing beads of sweat to form in your hairline and your white tank top to stick to your skin. Your jean shorts didn't feel this uncomfortable a few hours ago and you're sure the heat is causing your mascara to transfer to your eyelids and lower lashline. You've never needed a slushie and a smoke this bad in forever, even if you knew the later would make your parents lose their shit.
You read it again. Your brain is trying to guess what font its written in, an excuse to try to steady your heart beat until your nerves ease a little and you can finally gather the courage to step into the damn shop. You've noticed a few people passing by giving you strange looks because maybe it hasn't been fifteen minutes. Perhaps you've been unmoving like an idiot in the middle of the street for longer than you want to admit.
Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.
'Its not that much of a big deal. It's not even that painful, trust me.'
You wish you could trust your best friend, but your best friend is also the same woman who assured you Cats was the movie of the year. Yes, not 'Cats: The Musical'. 'Cats', the movie.
'And this could be a great start to get out of your comfort zone and start living your life exactly the way you want to, not the way people expect you to. Not the way your family wants you to, not the way Adam wanted you to.'
But although her credibility could sometimes be questionable - like that time she also told you she'd tried marmite and 'honestly, it's not as bad as people make it out to be'-, you also didn't trust anybody in this world as much as you trusted her. She had always been your entire support system, the only one around you who never sugarcoated, who always treated you as an equal, who was always there for you to help you discover yourself and, at the same time, remind you of who you were.
'And it's gonna look so hot, too.'
That's it. Sticking the wrinkled flyer on your back pocket, your feet finally start moving. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing open the door.
The first thing you notice is that, thankfully, the shop is empty. The second thing you notice is the bright sky blue walls, a green undertone peaking through. Your eyes scan nervously the interior. Frames with tattoo designs and people modeling other different designs decorate the walls, some skateboards also hanging from the ceiling. A few plants in the corner, and two leather couches on either side of the room. Your scanning stops on the counter, where a girl with short, platinium hair and -what you guess is- the eighty percent of her body inked. Face included. She's been looking at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. Her tone is amused when she speaks
"Hi." she says. "You can come closer, you know? We don't bite."
Great. As if you couldn't feel more out of place, apparently you also couldn't look more out of place.
"Sorry." you gulp as you walk forward. "It's my first time doing anything like this."
She laughs this time, but it's not mean. It's not mocking, thank God, and the smile she sends you is as warm as the weather, friendly, luckily helping you calm down a bit. "A virgin, huh? JK's gonna love this." your eyes jump in surprise, but she's fast to wave her hands in front of you. "Just a joke. So, first time getting a tattoo. You have something in mind, honey?"
"Um, no. Not a tattoo. Not yet, I think." you wet your lips, regretting not reaplying chapstick before stepping inside. "A piercing."
"Oh! Cool!" she claps her hands, too excited for your own taste, pulling from under the counter a catalogue. "So, where will it be? Cartilogue? Nose? A lot of people are getting their septums pierced right now, though, so you might-"
"Nipples. Like, one of them."
Her gaze finds yours in surprise, although her face swiftly transforms again into an amiable expression. "Now, that's badass. Alright!" she skims through the pages of the catalogue until she finds the nipple piercing collection. You scratch your head before wiping your forehead sweat-free. "You can pick either barbells or hoops, although barbells heal faster and they don't move around as much. There's different kinds of metal, too. Gold or platinium. If your skin is sensitive, I recommend titanium. It's hypoallergenic and not as problematic."
The blonde keeps talking as you nod your head, a smile making its way into your face while silently thanking her for her easygoing personality. It quickly makes you feel comfortable and stupid for being so terrified of doing this.
Once you decide, settle on the cost and sign the papers, she stands up from the stool she'd been sitting on. "Ok, I'll go tell my coworker. He's been sketching tattoos all morning, it's time he gets to work!" she laughs, but suddenly your smile banishes and your throat shuts down.
"He?" your alarmed tone halts her motions and she looks back at your frightened expression.
He? A he is going to pierce your nipple? You're about to let a random stranger, a HE, see and touch one of your boobs and then pierce a needle through one of your nipples?
"Oh, baby, don't worry. I'd do it myself if I knew how to, but I only do tattoos. Most of our staff are on summer vacation so it's mostly just him and I. If you don't feel comfortable, which is totally understandable, you can wait until september when Minzy comes back and she can do it for you." It's her turn to scratch the back of her head as she adds: "but trust me, we're professionals. He's not a creep or anything like that. He's been doing this for a long time. He won't cross any boundaries."
September? You won't even be here in september. Fuck.
Sure, you could do it when you move back into the city. But this summer was supossed to be the summer. You already decided after your breakup with Adam that there would be no trace of the old you. That it was time to push yourself, to do the things that you've always wanted to do, unapologetically. To find the new you, the real you. To stop being scared.
So after going through you options for a few seconds and taking a deep breath, you make up your mind.
"It's fine. I can do it."
"JK, sweetheart!"
Jungkook is finishing drawing a Chinese dragon when Mijoo opens the door without knocking. Again. He puts the pen down, rubbing his eyes. It's monday, a slow monday, not much work, and he had hoped it would stay that way until closing time. It's summer and Jungkook hates summer. He hates the heat, he hates being drenched in sweat, and he hates the fact that he can do nothing about it. Because working in the summer is terrible. Summer makes him lazy, makes him want to bathe in a tub full of iced water and not get out until he turns into a raisin and october comes. It makes him irritable. Summer makes him annoyed by people -like Mijoo, even if he loves her to death- and himself.
"I got a girl here who wants a nipple piercing, her first piercing by the way, so get your shit ready and bla bla bla. Straight titanium barbell. Also, don't flirt and don't be creepy. She almost ran away when I told her a male was going to be touching and piercing her tit, be mindful of that. She's too cute, if you want to get her number you should wait until it's done. I think that's it. I'll bring her in in a minute."
Mijoo leaves as fast as she talks, but Jungkook is already used to it. He's already used to the headaches her mouth causes too. He sighs before standing up, tying his too-long raven hair into the best bun he can manage. He washes his hands, sets the table up, sits on the chair and puts the gloves on. He's too busy sterilizing the jewerly when Mijoo comes back with you.
"Alright, my babies. I'll leave you to it." she turns to you. "He'll explain everything, from how the process will be to how to take care of it after it's done." she leaves before saying bye, closing the door behind her, and then he finally turns to you.
Your eyes meet and suddenly everything stops. He almost drops the sterilizing machine, his whole body tensing, going into panic mode as he recognizes you immediatly. His hands shake.
Of course he does. Of course he recognizes his high school crush. The too goody two shoes, too pretentious and too rich, too good for everybody and, most importantly, 'too good for Jeon Jungkook' girl of his high school dreams. Of course he recognizes the girl he had confessed his stupid crush to when he was sixteen. Of course he recognizes the girl who rejected and broke his young and foolish heart when he was a dumb teenager.
It doesn't matter that six years have passed ever since. He still knows every lock of your hair like the palm of his hand. He still remembers the shape of your lips and the exact shade of your eyes. He can still identify the body he fantasized about -and jacked off to- when he was a hormonal teen, now filled in all the right places. Now a grown woman.
Just one look at you after years and years of pining is enough to almost make him faint. And grow a boner under his jeans.
And by the look on your face, your eyes wide and your mouth agape, you recognize him as well.
He schools his features and clears his throat. Forces his body to relax and compose himself, because he's not a teenager anymore. He's also a grown man, who has matured, who now has much more experience with women than he did back then. He had already embarrased himself enough when he was sixteen to be doing it all over again. You're just another attractive girl in a sea of attractive women.
He turns to you. You still haven't said anything. Neither has he.
"Um, you can sit on the table." he manages, motioning to the set up in front of him. He watches you taking doubtful steps until you're sitting down, your eyes avoiding his gaze. He almost forgot you were here to get pierced. Holy shit, you were here to get pierced. To get your nipple pierced.
You're a professional, Jungkook. You can do this, Jungkook. You've seen boobs before, Jungkook. You've pierced nipples before, Jungkook.
Clearing his throat again and forcing his hands to stay by his side, he speaks. "The... The top." your gaze finds his, like a puppy about to get scolded. You look at your top, realization dawning on you. "You don't have to take it off. You can just pull it down."
So you do, pulling the straps of the white tank top down and dragging the fabric down with trembling fingers. No bra. Jungkook gulps as your breasts comes into vision. As perfect as he had imagined years ago. His cock twitches. Round, full, perky and so damn inviting he has to hold himself back from latching onto one nipple with his mouth around it and swirling his tongue over the nub until you're a pretty, moaning, little mess on his piercing tabl-
He closes his eyes for just a second before reminding himself to act like the 23 year old Jungkook he's tried so hard to become. The confident, assured Jungkook he is.
"Okay, this is how it'll go. First I'll clean it and scrub it to get rid of any bacteria." he's so glad he hasn't stuttered yet. 23 year old Jungkook doesn't stutter like 17 year old Jungkook. He's also glad he can pick the alcohol bottle and the surgical scrub without trembling. When he faces you again, you're watching his motions with your lip caught between your teeth. That has him swallowing the lump in his throat.
Making eye contact with him again, you take a deep breath and offer a small nod, so he gets to work. He can show you and himself he's a grown man. A grown man who can pierce a nipple without appearing like it's the first time he's seen a boob in his life. The sooner he does it, the sooner it's over.
Jungkook wets the paper towel with alcohol before carefully wiping over your nub with it. Your back arches, probably from the cold feeling, he guesses. He rubs it a few times before throwing it in the trash can nearby. He avoids looking at how enticing the soft peak is salluting him when he reaches for the marker. He doesn't say anything when he dots it with it, jaw clenched and his dick painfully stiff.
"Lay back." his voice low as he commands, turning away to get the clamp. When he slides closer, he tries to ignore the view: you, with your hair sprawled and your sweaty, shiny skin and your eyes focused on the cieling, nipple fully erect, like the star of one of his most erotic dreams. He extends his free gloved hand before he can stop himself, fingers carefully working the nub until he's sure it's painfully hard. Almost as hard as he is.
You gasp, your back arching again. He stills and looks at you, your cheeks flushed pink. Probably from the heat, he guesses again. Or at least that's what he tells himself. He can't stop himself from wondering how responsive would you be in a different setting, most likely his bed while his teeth play with your breast and his cock dives into-
"You okay?" he studies your face, your eyes not meeting his and instead still focusing on the white ceiling.
"Mhm." you reply with a small voice.
"Relax, alright? It'll be over soon." his voice is as gentle as he can, his fingers mindlessly caressing your breast to try to soothe your nerves. Or maybe it's just because he's a selfish bastard. Whatever it is, he forces himself to bring the clamp to your nipple, securing it around it.
"Take a few deep breaths. This will only take a second of pain and then it will go away." He misses the way your mouth falls open, but he doesn't miss the way your eyes squeeze tight as the needle goes in.
"Ah!" he definitely doesn't miss that either. He goes rigid for a second, because that didn't fucking sound like a cry of painfulness. It's breathy, and whiny, not too loud and, for fucks sake, if that's how you sound when you're getting fucked, he swears to God-
He feels your heartbeat under his hands when he puts the barbell in and then the bandage over it. He takes a look at you, chest moving up and down. And then you take a look at him and what he sees is almost enough to take you right there.
Reddened cheeks, drops of sweat framing your face and those eyes glazed with something he's seen too much in the women he's fucked throughout his life. They're half lidded, mascara adorning your long lashes and almost smudged, looking right through him.
"Jungkook..." and your voice, as you say his name -acknowledging him for the first time since you stepped into his shop, for the first time since you were sixteen-, it's hoarse, almost inaudible, like you just came all over his-
He's on his feet in an instant like he's been burned. "It may bleed for the first week, and it can be really sore. The swelling will eventually come down." he's quickly tidying up the table, a bottle in his hand that he hands to you without looking directly. "Wash it gently with this soap and warm water once per day. Don't touch it. Wear a comfortable...bra. If it gets crusty, clean it with saline. Not alcohol or any other thing you might clean a wound with. The soap I just gave you or saline. Nothing else."
He's pacing around the room as he takes his gloves off and throws them in the trash bin, too agressively maybe, then he keeps rambling, like he's hurriedly trying to make you leave as soon as possible. "Avoid pools and the sea. It takes about six months to a year to heal, so don't... don't touch it, don't play with it or..." he clears his throat, "don't let anyone else play with it. And if it gets infected, come back immediately and I'll take a look at it." which he honestly hopes it won't happen. When he faces you, your top is back on and you're getting off the table.
"Alright, um...I'll do that." clearing your throat, your hand gripping the doorknob. "Thank you."
But right before you can exit the room, Jungkook says your name.
"_____." when you turn around to face him, it takes a few seconds for him to make eye contact from across the room. "It was good to see you."
"Let me see!"
It's the first thing Chaelin says when she opens the door to her appartment. It's on the second floor, small enough to compare it to most expensive appartments you'd stayed in throughout your life, but big enough for Chaelin, her cat and her -impressive- collection of acrylic nail kits and pairs of high heels. It's also big enough for her to offer you the only guest room until summer is over so you didn't have to, one, stay at your parents' place, and two, find an appartment in a short period of time for a short period of time.
When you left years ago, you did so with the thought of 'never looking back'. You never really expected to return here, of all places. Maybe visit your best friend for a weekend at most, have dinner with your parents on a saturday and then go back to the new life you'd made for yourself on a sunday.
But that was before you'd caught Adam cheating.
Tale as old as time: childhood sweethearts get engaged, move in together, son of a bitch sleeps with the assistand he told his girlfriend not to worry about, and then the brokenhearted girl packs her bags and leaves the cheating bastard begging for her to come back.
You'd be lying if you said you were surprised.
Throughout your life, you'd learned to expect many things, regardless of being sheltered and babied by your family since you were born. Watched too much Maury and Dr.Phil. Too much Gossip Girl to know what the deal with life really is.
So, thankfully, you'd only shed a few tears, mostly because your ego and self steem were slightly triggered. You'd realize long before that your feelings for Adam started to disappear once he popped the question and you said yes. Your love story began as teenagers but soon after graduating, the two of you went on different paths: you'd matured, grown into your twenties while he got stuck at 17 and never stopped acting as such.
So yeah, whatever, break ups are hard. But they're not as hard when the love is gone and the sole reason to stay with your partner is to please your parents. You were also right when you expected your mom to tell you to 'forgive and forget' because 'those things just happen, it's not a big deal, honey'.
But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.
Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.
The lanky nerd with braces, glasses and an anime obsession much bigger than his hentai obsession, which is saying a lot. The shy, awkward classmate who'd stuttered his undying crush for you when you were just kids. That one who you had rudely rejected like the bitch you used to be in high school.
But my God, Jeon Jungkook was anything but a kid now.
You were shocked. You were gagged. Couldn't seem to fathom what was happening and what your eyes were seeing. It took you a while to close your mouth when you realized JK was Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.
With messy black hair, a smoldering gaze free of glasses, piercings adorning both ears, and his right eyebrow,, the braces long gone showing perfectly straight - but still bunny like- teeth. The clothes he wore were loose, all black, but it was impossible not to notice the muscles of his back and arms, covered with tattoos from his hands to his forearms. You'd bet there were more of them underneath the fabric.
It was awkward at first. You didn't know what to do, or what to say. Didn't know if he rememberd you. So you chose to stay quiet while your body chose to react like it had never been in the presence of an attractive young man in it's entire life.
And oh, did it react.
He was reluctant, his old timid demeanor peeking through his newly adopted persona. But as soon as those hands came in contact with your skin, your whole body was lit on fire. Like you were 16 and losing your virginity over again and it was the first time a dude touched your boobs.
There shouldn't have been anything erotic about it -besides the fact that your entire breasts were exposed-, it should've been just a professional procedure. But those gloved fingers touched and pinched and suddenly you were too aware of Jeon Jungkook and the way you were starting to sweat profously, not due to the heat of the season.
You tried to distract yourself by looking at the cieling and not at his gorgeous face. Tried to avoid thinking about Jeon Jungkook and how his mouth would feel wrapped around you. Tried not to think about the way your panties were a second skin to your folds, and how tempted you were to grind your hips until you recieved some sort of friction with the jean fabric of your shorts. You wonder if he noticed you squeezing your thighs together. You hope not.
And then the needle happened. You never thought of yourself as a particularly kinky person. Sex with Adam was boring for the most part and you'd lost your libido for a long time. Stopped thinking about sex altogether. But the pain. The pain mixed with his hand rubbing soothing circles on your breast and his voice, as sweet as honey, guiding you through it. It made you reconsider a lot of things you'd once dismissed as 'weird' or 'deviant'
You swear you almost came right on his table.
And then your eyes connected, you made the mistake of calling his name like a satisfied woman who still needed more, and it was all gone. He stood up like a scared cat, gave you a bunch of explanations about the aftercare that you barely grasped without even looking at you and pretty much rushed you to leave.
So you walked, all the way from the tattoo parlor to Chaelin's appartment, mortified, and completely humilliated.
"Are you gonna let me see or not?" your friend says expectantly as you finally sit down after chugging a glass of iced water. You sigh, placing the glass on the table before carefully pulling down your top. "Oh my God, it looks so cool!" she gasps and you can't help a smile while she studies it in amazement. "Did it hurt?"
"Um, I guess." you keep out the part where you almost orgasmed, obviously, stopping her hand from touching when she reaches towards you. "Wait, no. He said something about not touching it for like six months or a year, I don't remember."
At that, Chaelin's eyebrows quirk up. "He? It was a he? Was he cute, at least?"
"You won't believe this..." looking away for a few seconds, you take a deep breath. "It was Jeon Jungkook."
There's a pause, a silence that fills the room when Chaelin's jaw drops. "Jeon Jungkook...pierced your nipple?"
You close your eyes, bracing yourself for what you're a hundred percent sure is coming.
"Ha..." there it is. "Ha ha..." you still know there's more. "Ha ha ha..."
Chaelin laughs hysterically for about God knows how long, while you keep drinking your glass of water unfaced, your mind drifting back to Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie, his tattoos and his stupid gloved hands.
You know he's here.
Everything was cool, you were doing alright, having a great time with your vodka sprite in hand and your cute white bikini on. Chaelin was by your side, the guys were excited to have you back and thankfully, you'd avoided most questions about Adam and they'd avoided digging too deep into the topic. You'd sunbathed the whole afternoon, kept away from the water like he'd told you and ate the Hawaiian pizza Yoongi insisted on ordering despite Namjoon's and Jimin's complaints.
It's at night, when you're a little tipsy and your cheeks are flushed, that you feel it. You'd barely noticed Taehyung disappearing to let in a new guest.
You don't see him, but you feel him.
You're sitting on the pool tile steps, legs dangling and the water baely reaching your belly to make sure it doesn't touch your very sensitive and newly pierced nipple. Your back is facing the sliding glass doors of Hoseok's house, but the moment you hear his voice, smooth but animated as he converses with Taehyung, your body wakes up immediately, back straightening, goosebumps forming on your arms and nipples tightening against the fabric of your two piece.
You don't turn around, instead opting for downing the remaining of your drink and coming to the realization that, of course, Taehyung, social butterfly who'd always got along with everybody and remained friends with most people from high school, still keeps in touch with Jungkook.
You ignore him when he enters the pool, still peering from the corner of your eyes while pretending to be engaged in Chaelin's and Jihyo's conversation. Your mind sabotages you by taking you to that day a week ago at the tattoo parlor.
To the warmth of his hand, to the few strands of hair that his small ponytail couldn't keep together, to the way his eyes focused on such an intimate part of your body, to the endless ink decorating his skin, to-
Great. Now your bottoms are wet and not due to the water.
You don't miss Chaelin supressing a laugh and her not so subtle elbowing. You glance at her in warning and try to keep calm for the next fifteen minutes until Jin proposes moving to the living room to watch a movie.
"I'm gonna stay here for a little longer, guys." you say, after clearing your throat. You needed some time to gather yourself before being in a confined space with Jungkook.
"Are you sure?" Jin stops by your side to place a hand on your shoulder as everybody starts exiting the pool. "It's Mean Girls! You love Mean Girls! You never miss a minute of Mean Girls!"
Rolling your eyes, you wave him dismissively. "I know every dialogue on Mean Girls like the back of my hand, I think I'll be alright, Jin."
When everybody finally leaves, you take a deep breath, covering your face with your hands in an attempt to get him out of your head. Damn Jeon Jungkook and his irresisitble glow up.
"You okay?"
The unexpected voice startles you, a gasp finding its way out of your mouth and causing you to jump on your seat, heartbeat erratic as you instantly recognize who it belongs to. Your hand grasps your chest as if that would do anything to protect yourself against him.
"Shit, don't do that!" you say, the words almost getting stuck in your throat as you see him approaching you, still submerged in the pool. The more he nears you, the less water depth there is and the more visible his torso comes into view. Wich was exactly what you'd been avoiding.
Because Jeon Jungkook was ripped, as you'd imagined when you first encountered him.
Broad shoulders and strong biceps and chiseled abs and veiny forearms. Drenched hair, a full sleeve of tattoos and water dripping from delicious tan skin and all just so very hard. That paired up with a loopsided smile that does nothing but make you shudder.
"Sorry." he doesn't sound apologetic at all when he says that, the smirk adorning his features telling. "You just seemed a little off." you advert your gaze when he pushes his hair back.
"I'm fine, just...just wanted to be by myself."
"Oh" Jungkook's smile disappears. "I can leave, if you want me t-"
"No!" you're not sure where that comes from and neither does he, judging by the look on his face when your eyes find his. Eyebrows raised and mouth slightly parted, he's as surprised as you and there's an awkward silence for a few seconds. "Um, you don't have to. I mean, it's not my house, you can do whatever you want." you sniff and tame your voice, trying to seem cool and collected like you didn't just practically beg him not to go.
Ironic, considering this was exactly what you had been fearing for the past thirty minutes.
And then he smiles. A knowing smile. A smile that says 'you just totally checked me out and now you don't want me to leave'. A smile that you would have never associated with Jeon Jungkook of all people years ago. A smile that makes you want to look away but still keeps you in place.
"Sure." he says, closing the space between the two of you slowly but still leaving enough distance. "So, how's it going?"
You clear your throat, head high and determined not to let this man, or any man for that matter, turn you into a trembling mess. You're still you and you're not easily shaken by the opposite sex. Or at least that's what you helplessly chant in your head.
"Everything's cool. I'm on summer vacation now," a little white lie, "so I decided to-"
"The piercing." he says, the smile never leaving his face. "I meant how's the piercing."
"The pier- right." you almost miss the step he takes forward, all too aware of his height over yours but thankful for the centimeters that being propped on the stairs added to yours. "It's-" you almost, almost miss his knee touching your knee and him slightly separating your legs with his own inch by inch. Or how your thighs open unvoluntarely to welcome him in and how you can barely find coherent words to speak. "It's doing-" or the way his smile disappears and is instead focusing his dark stare fully onto yours.
"It's doing well." you finally say in a whisper, not being able to bring yourself to be louder.
He hums. "May I see it?" Jungkook wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and the action and his voice is enough to make you nod your head, bewitched.
His movements are unhurried, his hand coming up to tentatively come in contact with the flesh of your clavicle. His fingers skim through your skin upwards, his touch is feather-like when it wraps around your throat. You pant, and he stops but he doesn't move away, his eyes still focused on yours, studying you, daring you to pull back, to tell him to back off. But just a simple touch of his and you're fully under his control. It reminds you too much of the day you got that damn piercing.
Your lips are parted and for a moment he stays just like that. His body so close to yours but not close enough, and his hand slightly gripping your neck. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you can't wrap your head around the fact that something so simple sets your entire being alive and leaves you aching.
Then, as slow as he started, his hand travels from the front of your neck to the back, pushing your hair aside to carefully untie the straps of your bikini. He breathes through his nostrils, doesn't make a sound. He seems so collected it's starting to annoy you.
Instead, your breathing is ragged when the top falls down, exposing both your breasts to him. That's when he removes his eyes from yours and his jaw clenches. Your nipples perk up under his gaze, like they remember him and the effect he had on them just a week ago. You're at least glad you're not the only one affected but he seems to be a master at keeping it under wraps.
Then, his hand moves again, leaving goosebumps on your skin as it goes south. Jungkook takes his time, so deliberate you want to scream, until he's cupping your pierced breast, keeping away from the nipple just like he'd advised you a few days prior. You can't look away from his face, from his eyes observing you like you're a full course meal and he's been starving for days. You feel drops of water falling from his hair to your thighs, his thumb caressing your skin so delicately as it faintly nears your still tender nipple. Just nearing it, never touching it.
"Beautiful." his murmur is almost imperceptible and for a moment you think you've imagined it. Your back arches on its own, breast pushed against the palm of his hand, almost like your body is begging him to come closer, to touch you more, to feel you all over. He meets your eyes briefly, gauging your reaction, before going back to your chest. Suddenly, the grip on your breast tightens, fingers ever so softly squeezing your flesh. From your throat comes a mewl, your eyes shut and your legs close around his waist.
"Jungkook, please..." you whisper when you open your eyes. He looks at you, unvertainty written all over his face, lips bruised as if he had been biting on them too hard, gaze as glassy as yours. And just like that, the spell is broken. He blinks and his expression changes completely. Lips forming a straight line and jaw tight. His hand retracts, fixing your bikini top over your breasts before tying it around your neck like it originally was. Meanwhile your eyebrows crunch in confusion. But when you're about to start asking questions, he clears his throat.
"It's healing okay." he steps back, avoiding your eyes. "I'll see you inside."
Jungkook leaves the pool like nothing happened.
Jungkook is fiddling, fixing the position of his glasses and combing through his straight hair with shaky hands, habits he's tried so hard to get rid of in his sixteen years of existence but still finds impossible to.
He can't help it. He's always been like this: the quiet and awkward kid in class who sits in the back, a misunderstood puppy in a sea of stronger dog breeds that could eat him alive. An outcast. Too geeky for his own good. Notebokes full of Dragon Ball doodles on the margins of the pages, the shelves in his room stacked with Marvel figurines, and a closet filled with outdated clothes that he has been inheriting from his older brother.
He has never been the type to stand out, always being overlooked by people like he's invisible. He doesn't mind though. He'd much rather be ignored than getting picked on by bullies like he used to in elementary school.
He never gets invited to parties. Ever. He's a nobody who barely speaks, and when he does he either stutters or manages to embarrass himself in one way or another. He's seen the look on people's faces when they look at him. Their eyes seem to scream 'weirdo' everytime he gets acknowledged.
So obviously the only reason he was invited to this particular party had a first and last name: Kim Taehyung. The only kid in Jungkook's entire life who didn't look at him in a funny way, the only kid who took the time to entangle in a random conversation with him after class and who seemed geniune enough to make Jungkook feel comfortable.
He's not sure how it happened, since Taehyung mostly hangs out with the cool kids. But somehow it did, and now Jungkook is uncomfortably standing in a living room full of drunk teens, looking directly at you.
You, the one girl Jungkook had been pining on for God knows how long. You, who are obviously too pretty, too popular, and way out of his league. You, with your plaid skirt and your polo shirt and those legs that never seem to end. You, who are sitting with your friends in a couch, drink in hand and visibly tipsy. And yet, he doesn't think he's ever seen anyone pull of the 'drunk-rosy-cheek' look better than you.
He can hear your laugh through the music and he already thinks it sounds better than whoever is playing in the background.
"Come on, Gukkie! Her friends are leaving and she's all by herself now! It's your chance" Taehyung's obviously drunk too because it took Jungkook a while to decypher his exact words. He'd disappeared for a while and now that he's back, he's pushing Jungkook in your direction.
"This was a mistake, Taehyung." Jungkook shakes his hair and steps back, quickly glancing at the front door to prepare his escape. But his new friend's grip on his hoodie keeps him in place.
"Guk, listen. The only thing you have to do, is walk up to her, and say 'hey I think you're, like, really pretty. Just letting you know. Bye!' That's it. Jung- Dude, Guk, seriously, look at me." Taehyung grabs Jungkook's cheeks, squishing them between his hands and forceing him to face him. "You've been crushing hard on her for years, my man. We're graduating and you won't see each other again. What's the worst thing that can happen? Getting rejected?"
Jungkook's eyebrows draw together. "Um, yeah?"
"Exactly! Getting rejected is not the end of the world, bro! It just means keep trying on other girls!" Taehyung releases his hold on Jungkook's cheeks. "I just think you're going to regret not telling your crush she's your crush. Who knows? Maybe in the future you two will get married."
Jungkook snickers, muttering a 'yeah right' under his breath. Still, he can't help the smile that Taehyung's words always seem to pull out of him.
"Now," Taehyung playfully slaps Jungkook before turning him in your direction again. "Go get 'em, tiger!"
"Okay," Mijoo's voice slices through Jungkook's memories. She's sitting on Jungkook's desk, munching on her brownies and looking at her coworker expectantly. "And then what?"
He sighs, running a hand through his hair, sits back on his chair, already feeling the effects of Mijoo's baked goods. "And then I walked up to her, like a damn fool, stutter and all. And I say:" he clears his throat, making an effort to do his best teenage Gukkie impression."'Hey, _____, um, so, I think you're beautiful and I've had a crush on you since seventh grade, haha, just wanted to let you know.'"
Mijoo rolls her eyes, still chewing. "And then what?"
"And then she looked me up and down, giggled, fucking giggled, Mijoo, and said 'Who are you, again?'" Mijoo gasps and Jungkook closes his eyes, trying to force that recollecion out of his head.
"What a bitch." she can't help but laugh before apologizing. Jungkook merely shrugs his shoulders and takes another bite of his brownie. "She didn't say anything else?"
"She said something along the lines of:" he clears his throat again, this time, doing an impression of you. "'That's sweet and all but, you and I... we're not the same. And I have a boyfriend, so...' She said that like I didn't know, like I wasn't aware of the school's it couple! Like I was dumb!"
Mijoo nods. "And now you want to fuck her even more than you did in high school."
"I- No! Well, yes. Fuck, of course I want to sleep with her! But I just... can't."
"Why not?"
"Did you hear anything about what I just told you or were you too concentrated trying to get high?"
It's Mijoo's turn to roll her eyes. "I heard everything you just told me. I just don't understand what the problem is. You two were sixteen. Sure, she was a bitch about it, but Lord knows I've been a bitch my entire life and now I'm not anymore." Jungkook raises an eyebrow at that. "Okay, sometimes I can be nice. But the point is..." Mijoo finishes her piece of brownie before getting off of Jungkook's desk. "It's been, what? Nine? Ten years? People change, JK. You're the best example of that. You want to fuck her and she obviously wants to fuck you too. You're both adults." she wipes her hands on her shorts. "I think it's time you fulfill that high school fantasy of yours."
You've made up your mind.
And by you, it means Chaelin has made up your mind.
It didn't take long to convince you though. That last interaction with Jungkook cause too many emotions stirring within you. It left you hot, it left you bothered, it left you confused. Sure, it also left you a little bit embarrassed like the first time, but above everything else, that interaction with Jungkook left you absolutely livid.
Because who the fuck did Jeon Jungkook, formerly known as Guk, Gukkie, Jungukkie, and currently known as JK, think he was to come near you, speed your heart rate's up, and then runaway like that?
You've spent days thinking about it. About that face, about that body, about those hands and- shit. You're doing it again.
You've spent days trying to push those intrusive thoughts. Spent days trying to bury what happened. You've spent days trying to keep quiet, not telling anyone about it and just wishing that stupid spark of desire simply went away.
But it has just been simply unavoidable. You haven't been able to ignore the sleepless nights with your brain drifting back to that night and forbidding your hand from slipping under your panties. Or the excessive amount of time during the day where images of him suddenly popped in your head and wouldn't go away, even with you squeezing your thighs to try to make the ache go away.
So you ended up ranting and ranting and ranting to the only person you could confide on, who is obviously your best friend. Your best friend, who's too smart for her own good and knows you too well for your liking. Because apparently your moodiness and snappy remarks couldn't go unnoticed.
And after explaining the fiasco over a bottle of wine -and minutes of endless laughing on Chaelin's part because, again, it's Gukkie you two were talking about and, according to her, this was "the most karmic thing I've ever seen"-, she gave you the best advice an older sister could ever give.
"Fuck him."
"I know right? Fuck him!"
"No. I mean, fuck him."
And now here you are. Right inside that room you stepped in weeks ago, confronting the man in question with the same confidence that has always distinguished you from others and trying to act like the fluttering inside your belly wasn't nauseauting.
"A date."
"You want to go on a date with me." this wouldn't be so hard if Jungkook didn't look so delectable in a plain white t-shirt and ripped jeans. You cross your arms over your chest, doing your best to not look down at the exposed skin of a man who obviously worked out a lot and apparently, never skipped leg day. "What's the catch?"
He's sitting on his chair, back resting comfortably and legs spread, narrowing his eyes at you and probably wondering why the girl at the front desk let you in without an appointment. Also, probably wondering if there was a catch to all of this.
"There's no catch. I just want to go to the fair this weekend. I'll ask Taehyung for your number and text you the date and the exact place we'll be meeting. Unless..." your quirk one of your eyebrows. "Unless you're already planning on how you'll chicken out this time."
Of course, Jungkook says yes to going on a date with his high school crush but spends the following days overthinking every single thing.
He can't help but feel like it's kinda sketchy. What if you're planning your vendetta on him? What if you don't even show up and he ends up there looking like a damn idiot? What if you hate him and are just messing up with him? What if that incident in high school is going to repeat itself?
"If she doesn't show up, you simply move on and never speak to her again. It's that simple. She can't have that much power over you to cry about something like that." Mijoo had said that same day she let you in the tattoo parlor after you'd asked to see Jungkook. Jungkook's coworker hadn't even question you and just motioned you to Jungkook's room with a knowing smile on her face. Later that day, Jungkook had scolded her about it and she'd simply shrugged.
He considers cancelling, eyes reading the 'won't be able to make it, sorry (sad face emoji)' over and over again and fingers hovering over the send button so many times he's lost count. But then he remembers that comment of yours about him chickening out and Jungkook starts seeing red.
How couldn't you understand he's just terrified of you rejecting him one more time? Sure, Jungkook is now an adult who doesn't get butthurt over stuff like that. He's experienced too much after graduating from high school and he's a much stronger individual than his fragile self back was back then.
But something about you just makes him feel so... weak.
He still finds it impossible to concieve where he got the courage to approach you like that at Taehyung's pool, or how he brought himself to touch you for longer than a minute without coming in his pants. He'd enjoyed it too much. Allowing him to see you so exposed, just for him. He'd be so tempted to kiss you right there and then, to run his hands up and down your thighs and fully wrap your legs around him to let you known how much you'd affected him. Once you called his name, it was like he'd finally snapped out of it and backed away like he'd been burned by you. He spent the next twenty minutes trying to keep himself from pulling down his pants and jerking off in his friend's bathroom.
It's terrible. Because he feels like the teenager he used to be when you're around. Shy, insecure and overall a mess. You showing up in his life after so many years and now apparenly being interested in him seems like a dream that he's not sure he wants to keep being in or wake up from before it's too late and he falls back into that tumoltuous longing that will inevitably end up in heartbreak. His heartbreak.
It's saturday night, he's standing by himself in the crowded fair at the spot. You're fifteen minutes late and he's already about to turn back and dip out. He feels too awkward and the nerves are eating him alive.
You're not going to show up. You're not going to show up and now he feels and looks even dumber than the time he told you he was crushing on you. You're not even going to show up and now he's going to come back home, get drunk by himself and curse your name for-
"Hey!" he turns around to the sound of your voice and sees you running towards him. "Sorry I'm late! I couldn't find my phone and spent like thirty minutes looking for it. Turns out, Sharon Stone, was taking a nap on top of it and I didn't even notice."
"Sharon Stone?"
"Chaelin's cat."
To be honest, he's too surprised to process your explanation right away. He might also be a little speechless because that sky blue sundress looks too good on your skin and your eyelashes are so long, framing your beautiful eyes, and your lips are all glossy and kisseable that it takes him a while to find his own voice.
He clears his throat. "It's alright." scratching the back of his head, he momentarely adverts his gaze from you in an attempt to not get distracted by how soft your hair looks and how much he wants to wrap it around his hands in a ponytail. "Um, where do you want to go first?"
Almost an hour and a half later, when the sun has already disappeared and you're both surrounded by colorful lights, Jungkook decides to buy the both of you hot dogs and a drink and you both settle down on a bench.
You've been walking all over the fair, going from booth to booth, playing any game in sight Jungkook dared you to -he obviously had a competitive streak-: from the ballon and dart games, to the shooting games, to the bumping cars, to the ball-in-basket one. To say you were having fun was an understatement.
You'd almost regretted setting the date up. You were sure he wouldn't even show up and if he did, you were scared of how awkward things could get between the two of you. And if things were awkward, you were sure it would only take less than thirty minutes for the both of you to part ways and never talk again about such failure of a date.
To your surprise, none of that happened.
The conversation was flowing, both of you acting like you were strangers on their first date getting to know each other, which, to be fair, that's exactly what it felt like. There was a slight banter, teasing each other when one of you lost in whatever game you were playing while the other was obviously winning. There were laughs and a funny feeling in your tummy whenever you'd walk side by side and his arm brushed yours.
There was no stiffness on his shoulders, no mention of the past or your previous encounters, no acknowledgement of the blatant sexual tension you'd experienced before, not an ounce of avoidance whenever your eyes met his and he was even sure of himself enough to place a hand on your lower back or briefly interwine your fingers with his to guide you through the mass of people.
It felt like you'd both unspokenly agreed on making each other feel comfortable enough to have a good time.
"I didn't think you were going to show up, to be honest." you suddenly say, taking a sip of your strawberry juice and thankful to finally let your feet rest for a while.
Jungkook looks at you, hot dog mid air and eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline. "You didn't think I was going to show up? I didn't think you were going to show up." you simply shrug, lowering your gaze seepishly, the beginning of a smile on both your faces. He surprises you by tilting your head in his direction with his forefinger. You watch him watching you, a little dazed, a little lost in how his dark hair messily falls over his forehead and his equally dark eyes study your face, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. "You um... There was ketchup right there." he lies.
"Oh" you say, feeling your face heating up. "Thanks. Red doesn't really match this dress." you manage a smile and tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.
At that, he eyes your dress for a moment, mouth slightly ajar. He's debating on whether or not to say something but you beat him to it.
"I'm sorry, by the way."
"For being late? I already told you it's fin-"
"No." you shake your head. "For... that time when we were young and I was such a concieted brat." you say, looking away , trying to find anything else that's not his pretty face. "I thought I was a queen bee back then. I was annoying and rude, specially to you. I..." you lick your lips. The cherry glittery gloss was already gone. "I thought it was cute, what you said. There was no reason for me to act like that. I know this doesn't make anything right but..." when you turn to face him again, there's still the same expression on his face. "I'm sorry."
A few seconds go by before it's him who's shaking his head. "It's okay. It was a long time ago, anyway." he smiles at you, although it doesn't reach his eyes and seems sorta forced. You sigh, and he takes your hand. "Let's go to the ferris wheel."
tell you're tense. You're sitting right beside him in the ferris cabin, your back is all straight, you're facing forward and he believes you haven't blinked for what feels like an eternity. He thinks it has everything to do with your conversation a few minutes ago. You were probably not content with his response but what could Jungkook do? There was really no point in apologizing for something that happened years ago, but at the same time, he didn't want to hold anything against you like a resentful asshole because it was really not who he was. But there was still a little bit of stingyness inside of him and he didn't know how to make it go away.
At the end of the day, here you were, on a date with him that you'd asked for, getting along and asking questions about him and laughing at his jokes and trying to start all over again.
But then the ferris wheel starts moving, and he finally understands why you look so uncomfortable.
It's the way you immediately grip his forearm, nails digging in his skin and he swears he hears the smallest gasp forcing itself out your throat.
"Are you... scared?" he tentatively asks.
You say nothing for a while, not moving an inch. He would laugh if you didn't look so pained about it.
"I don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters." you finally say through gritted teeth.
"It's not really that small and ferris wheels are not rollercoasters. " your nails dig deeper and he winces. "Okay, okay. You don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters, and that includes ferris wheels. So why didn't you tell me?"
"I don't know. I've never liked ferris wheels but you seemed excited about it, so..."
There's a silence after that in the environment, neither of you exactly sure of what to say or how to act. Until Jungkook moves one of his hands hands until it's resting on the one who's holding onto him for dear life, fingers caressing yours. The warmth of his hand spreads through yours and although it's almost July and you can already feel your sweaty back staining your dress, it's oddly comforting. What's more comforting even, is him twisting his body towards you and talking with the calmest and most soothing tone you've ever heard.
"Look at me." you do instantly, unwillingly, and kinda wish you hadn't. It's almost as if your body will do anything he says without question. Like he has some sort of power over it to just react however he wants. His eyes bore into yours and suddenly the cab doesn't seem so suffocating. "It's just you and me right now. We're not even on a ferris wheel." the corners of his mouth turn slowly upwards. You zone out the environment, suddenly too aware of him and how close he is and how loud the beating of your heart is to your own ears.
You swallow the knot in the back of your throat when he removes his hand from yours. It almost makes you protest, - now realizing you've losened the tight grip on his arm- , before it craddles your face, keeping you in place while bringing his body closer.
"You have to stop saying my name like that."
With his thigh touching your thigh, your whole demeanor melts. When he leans closer, and you feel his breath fanning over your lips, your eyes shut closed.
"Tell me I can-" he starts to say.
"Yes." you finish for him. He doesn't doubt on closing the distance between you two. His lips touch yours and your body shakes in excitement. It's just him lightly skimming your lips with his but it's already too much and at the same time, not enough. It has you deepening it, yourself moving closer when he kisses you again. It has you relaxing against him, the tenseness prior disappearing and making you arch your back when his tongue asks for permission.
But it's exactly then, the moment you open your lips to him, that has you losing your mind.
The sparks fly, traveling from your head to your toes and then settling on the pit of your stomach as soon as the kiss starts to turn desperate and rough. When he nibbles your lips with his teeth, it makes you mewl and whine and your nipples tight against the cotton of your dress. It makes the metal barbell to feel uncomfortable, slightly painful. And when he goes back to being messy and filthy with his tongue tangled with yours, your thighs close on their own.
He forces himself to pull his hand back and bring it down, finding the parting of yd opening them for him. "Wait," you say, your fingers wrapping around his forearm as you try to catch your breath."The ferris-" he shuts you up with another kiss.
"We're not on a ferris wheel." he reminds you, a soft whisper against your mouth. And for whatever reason, you believe him.
"He fingered you on the ferris wheel."
"And you came before the ride was over."
You take a small sip of wine, your eyes focusing on the TV where a rerun of the Golden Girls is playing, although, to be fair, lately you haven't been able to pay much attention to anything else but a certain brunet with doe eyes and kisseable lips. "Yes."
She hums, stealing a handful of popcorn from the bowl between your thighs.
"How long did it took? Like five minutes?"
There's a pause in which you clench your jaw, your fingers twitching around the glass in your hand, and then you answer. "Probably less."
There's another pause, and then-
"Ha...Ha ha...Ha ha ha-"
You let her laugh. It's okay. You knew you had it coming.
Chaelin knows the pillow you throw right at her face is also something she had coming.
It's not that you're mad.
Jungkook and you had a great time on that fair date, he made you laugh, bought hot dogs and drinks for the two of you and got you off inside the cab of a ferris wheel on record time with those magical, long fingers of his. Technically, there shouldn't be anything to be angry about.
Except it's been a week and you can't stop thinking about him, about wanting more, and about those words that he left you with after the ferris wheel ride ended, when you had tried to return the favor.
'Next time, maybe.'
And there hasn't been a next time.
The thought of texting him or giving him a call to ask for another date is persistent in your mind. It remains while you do the laundry or wash the dishes, while you shower, while you eat or while you spend your days at the beach with Chaelin. There's always the incessant desire to reach out towards your phone, unlock it and dial his number to beg for more.
But you'd never been one to beg, so you resist the urge everytime that feeling starts to creep up on you and it washes over you like a wave. You silence your phone and try to concentrate on making the most out of your summer.
It's one random night, when you're tiredly dragging your feet across Chaelin's apartment's carpet, yawning and ready to succumb to a well needed slumber, that you see your phone screen's lighting up with a message.
Your heart pathetically leaps inside your chest when you read his name.
'you free on saturday?'
You wish you could say you ghosted him, ignored his text and moved on with your life until it was him who begged you for another date. But the truth is you opened it in a matter of seconds and typed 'i'm free, why?' back in a rush with trembling fingers.
So now you're on the passanger seat of his car while he sits on the driver seat, the first saturday night of July, like he's Danny Zuko and you're Sandy Olsson, watching a vintage movie in a drive-in theater which plot you don't give a shit about, even if Jungkook's date plan idea made something inside of you churn with adoration.
And the only reason why you don't give a single damn about the movie playing in front of your eyes, is because you're hot. Way too hot. And the reason and cause is none other than the boy-now-turned-man sitting on your left.
You barely exchanged words when he picked you up, just rode in silence until you got to your destination and you bet he can feel as well as you do the tension in the air.
You've surveyed him a few times from the corner of his eye, noticing him fiddling with the rings around his fingers and shifting in his seat from time to time. And if the sight of his fingers bring memories that you've tried to bury to keep yourself from lunching towards him, a brief glance at his forearms, adorned with ink drawn through his golden flesh -doing a poor job at concieling the veins running underneath- and his skin-tight jeans wrapping those muscled thighs of his is enough to have you be the one squirming in your seat.
A woman can only endure so much, and you come to that realization thirty minutes into the movie.
"I want to suck your cock." you say, a stern expression on your face as you turn your body in his direction.
Jungkook frozes as your voice slides over him. It takes him a couple seconds to look at you, shock widening his eyes and parting his lips.
"Huh?" he manages, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white.
Without separating your gaze from his, you gather your hair and tie it in a ponytail with the hair tie previously around your wrist. You don't miss the quick glance he sneaks into the curvature of your neck and the valley between your breasts.
Inching forward, closing in on him, you place one of your hands on top of his thigh, the action making his whole body tense. "____..." he whispers your name in a warning that doesn't sound convincing even in his own ears.
You smile, your eyes never wavering from his as your hand inches upwards, slowly caressing over the fabric of his jeans until you finally come across what you were looking for.
His hand flies to your wrist, stilling your movements. "____, this is not-". He starts, but his voice gets stuck inside his throat when you palm his undoubtly growing erection.
"Shh." your shaky breath fans over his cheek and you force yourself on your knees on the passanger seat in a more comortable possition to stop the trembling to reach them.
You fumble with the belt holding his pants in place, then with the button and finally with the zipper. He helps you by lifting his hips to pull his jeans and boxers to his thighs and you have to bite back a mixture between a gasp and a moan at the sight below you. You haven't even seen Jeon Jungkook naked all the way, but the mere sight of his hard cock with pre-cum glistening on his crown is probably the sexiest thing you've ever had the pleasure of appreciating.
It gets sexier when you wrap your hand around the base and his body melts in the driver seat, throwing his head back with his eyes shut. It gets even sexier when you finally lower your head, swirling your tongue over the head before finally engulfing him fully in the wet warmth of your mouth.
"Shit." his voice is tight, uneven as his hand loosely grips your ponytail, as if careful not to accidentally hurt you and break the glorious moment.
Although you wouldn't mind at all. Because the moment your hands are on him, and your tongue is on his shaft, that's the only thing you care about. Your belly is twisting, an undeniable wet spot on your panties as the fabric sticks to your folds, and the more you suck Jungkook, the more you want from him. His earthy taste is addicting and the soft little whimpers he occasionally can't prevent himself from are making you want to milk him until he can't take it no more. There's this desire within you to whorship him and his cock like you had been dreaming for the past weeks.
"This is s-so fucking h-hot." he rasps between ragged breaths, the bobbing of your head, sliding up and down his dick as your hand works the centimeters your mouth can't take is about to make him faint.
"Getting a blowjob?" you joke, your throat starting to feel sore as you kiss his leaking tip.
"N-no." he draws in a rough breath when you take him all of him again. "You giving me a blowjob... T-the f-fact that anyone c-could see us..." he darts a quick glance at your body, your ass up in the air and your dress sliding down, almost exposing you completely. "The fact that-ah! Shit..." he squeezes his eyes when he feels a glob of your spit lubricating him.
There's a sudden need to make you feel the same, to touch your skin and have you shaking the same way you have him. So one of his hands travels from your spine, to your perked ass, finally dragging the cotton of your dress to allow himself to see your thin white panties. "The fact that anyone could see you l-like this," he murmurs, regaining a little bit of control when he squeezes one of your cheeks. "letting t-them see you s-sucking my cock and..." he smirks when he feels you gasping around him, his fingers trapped between your thighs and pushing them inside your heat easily "and letting them see me fingering this pretty little pussy."
Soon after that he's cumming in your mouth while you're cumming around his fingers.
At first, it's mostly on weekends when you see each other. Weekends of stolen kisses and soft sighs and whispering against each other's lips. Then weekends turn to week days, sitting on grass while sipping on refreshing beverages, drawing each other laughs, elbows touching as you walk around the park side by side because the both of you are too scared to interwine your fingers together.
Jungkook feels content like this: sitting on the sand with you between his thighs, admiring the sunset while nuzzing your neck and inhaling your scent every now. He likes waching you enoying your strawberry ice cream, almost forgetting the chocolate chip one already melting in his hand.
"If you were an ice cream flavor,which one would you be?" you ask him, relaxing against his chest.
"Rocky road."
He shrugs behind you. "Everyone likes rocky road."
You hum, playfully rolling your eyes. "What about me? Which ice cream flavor would I be?"
"Lemon sherbet, in the summer."
"Lemon sherbet? Out of all of the flavours out there, you're rocky road and I'm lemon sherbet?"
"Lemon sherbet, in the summer." he corrects.
"Okay, fine. Why?"
"You're boring and basic."
You gasp, trying to feign outrage but not being able to repress the laugh that escapes your throat. You elbow him, his laugh mixing with yours while taking the time to wrap his arms around your form, the breeze blowing your hair allowing him a spot between your neck and your shoulder. "You're boring and basic, but once you have a taste..." he presses a small kiss on your skin, causing the tiny hairs on the nape of your neck to rise. "Once you have a taste, specially on the hottest day in the middle of summer, you can't stop tasting and licking until there's no more lemon sherbet left."
You suck in on a breath when he craddles your jaw to face him. "It's been my favourite flavor since I was a kid." he kisses you immediately after, his lips swallowing the small whimper now stuck in your throat.
You close your eyes as his tongue opens your mouth, arousal blasting your insides and something much, much deeper that you fear to even name shredding your chest.
The beginning of august comes faster then you two realize, but what you both do realize is how hard it's becoming to stay away from each other.
It's been thirty days of dates happening almost everyday, sharing high school memories and anecdotes of the time you spent away from each other. Hours of getting to know each other and opening up to each other. From failed relationships to new friendships. Of park dates walking side by side and fingers now interwined because you both realized one day that, fuck it.
It's difficult to sleep when you realize you're starting to catch serious feelings for somebody who was just supposed to be a fling. It's hard to sleep when his face, his voice and his touch and thoughts of missing him when you don't see each other start haunting you at night.
It's hard for Jungkook to focus on work when you're everything that's occupying his mind. Because he has a hundred sketches to make but he's too busy thinking about the hundred different sketches he would make of you.
It's hard not to send him a goodnight text, just like it's hard for him not to reply in a matter of seconds, almost as if he was already waiting to recieve it.
Jungkook thinks of you at night. Of how pretty and absolutely perfect you are for him. Of the taste of your lips, the way your hair feels between his fingers, or the flush on your cheeks when he makes you cum as droplets of sweat accumulate between your breasts. He thinks about your voice. He also thinks about the amount of hours left to be able to listen to it again.
But mostly he thinks about how ridiculous this situation is. Because he was stupidly crushing on you when you were only teenagers, daydreaming about a chance with you. And now his crush is long gone and he's starting to realize that he's falling, and falling fast.
You, too, think of Jungkook at night. Of his ability to bring a smile out of you, to soothe you with just a few words and filling your belly excitement, happiness and feelings you're sure you've never felt before.
Jungkook's managed to imprint himself in your dreams, and you, in his.
Getting drunk with Jungkook is fun and messy.
It's fun because he lets loose, he stutters a lot like he used to do when he was a teenager and he makes you laugh louder than ever before. It's messy because he has no control over his hands as they explore your body, clumsily taking your clothes off as his mouth laps at the breast he's allowed to touch.
He's more forceful and dominating too, pinning your hands above your head, and commanding you to keep them right there, on the pillows of his bed. When you rebel against it, your fingers finding the hard planes of his chest, he pulls away from you and places them back where he left them. "Don't make me tie you up." he threatens, and your body shudders beneath him.
He sucks, and bites and leaves marks all over your skin, grunting in response to your moans. Creating a path of kisses from your lips to your stomach, his shoulders separating your knees, opening you up only for him. And thankfully, when you reach down to tug at the strands of hair framing his face, he lets you, because he knows you need something to hold on to the moment his tongue eats you up. He leaves his fingertrips on your thighs as he keeps you in place, not allowing you to runaway. Just forcing you to take it as he takes from you.
And when you cum, he doesn't back away. He keeps sucking, and licking and punishing you with his mouth until you're cumming over and ove again, screaming and begging for his cock.
Having Jungkook over you, both completely naked, skin to skin and only sweat in between is more than you could've ever fantazised about. He slurls your name when he puts the condom on. He would do anything to feel you raw, but he also knows he wouldn't be able to last a minute. The sight of you spread open, with your cheeks darkened by a crimson blush and your hair tangled all over his pillow is a picture he wants to keep forever.
He enters you when you call his name, your voice dripping with need. He stretches your warm and wet felsh, slowly easing himself into you at first, until he's fully inside and your bodies are completely in union. A shiver runs down Jungkook's spine when he looks at your contorted face in pleasure, your lips forming an 'O' and your pussy clenching around him.
"Oh, my God." you moan into the dark of Jungkook's room, and even then, he can clearly appreciate every curve of your body lifting off the mattress to connect with his. He lowers himself on his elbows on either side of your head, caging you in and capturing your mouth with his.
"I know, baby." he murmurs. It's hot, in the middle of August but suddenly Jungkook doesn't hate summer as much as he used to. Not with you sharing the heat with him. "It's way beyond what I could ever imagine." You nod hurriedly against his lips, your arms finding their way around his neck as he starts rocking in and out of you.
"It's too good." you cry, when he hits a particular spot that has you rolling your eyes in bliss and gripping his waist tighter with your legs against you. Your fingers thread through his hair, not bothered by the beads of sweat gathered on the nape of his neck.
"Too good..." he agrees, not missing the shiver that's shaking your own frame when he picks up his speed. "You have no idea what I would do t-to fucking feel you with n-no barriers between us," his movements become frantic as his hips slap against yours, his jaw clenched as he keeps talking, "to s-stuff you full of my c-cum over and over again until it won't stop d-dripping."
Jungkook's voice against your ear has you trembling and your orgasm nearing closer, your nails scratching down his back as his thrusts overpower your form. "Would you like that?" he asks with his voice strangled.
"Y-yes. Anything y-you want."
"You'd take all of my cum like a good cum-slut?"
You hate the fact that that's what makes you come undone. The twisting and knotting in the pit of your stomach finally snapping until you're holding on to him like you never want to let him go and he's following soon after.
Because if Guk, Gukkie, Jengukkie was not only able to make you come in less than a few minutes with his fingers or his tongue, but he was also able to make you cum instantly just by calling you a good cum-slut, that means you're fucked. Like, really, really fucked.
There's a knot in Jungkook's stomach and a suffocating grip around his vocal chords as he caresses your skin. The sun is rising in the distance with the first rays of light entering his room through the window. Your shamphoo is intoxicating him, numbing him and enticing him to bury his nose in the tangled curls pressing against his chest. Your arm is thrown across his stomach, your breathing leavig goosebumps all over his body.
"It's too early. Go back to sleep." you mumble against his heart. He wonders if you can feel it dangerously speeding up.
"I can't." he says, voice struggling to stay balanced. "I have to tell you something."
You hum in response, sleep still interwined with your body, your arm tightening around him. You sigh in content, expecting him to elaborate.
He wets his suddenly dry lips. "I don't want this to end. In fact, ____.... I want more. Need more."
"Jungkook..." your whole body goes rigid right away, untanglling your bodies from each other and sitting up on the mattress.
"No, listen to me." he mimicks your movements, rapidly grabbing your hands to make you look at him. His eyes are expressive, a mixture of fear and hope swirling in his dark irises. "I wake up everyday, and you're the first thing I think of. I go on about my day, and I keep thinking about you, wondering what you're doing and counting down the hours until I get to see you again. I spend every night dreaming about you, and when we'e together, the only thing I can think about is how I wish I could stop time so I don't have to say bye to you the next morning. ____, I-"
"Jungkook, stop please." you shake your head, pushing away from him and in desperate need of air. You press a hand against your chest, beating back the throb of pain while the other curls in a tight fist, the feeling of your fingernails digging into your palm less painful than the ache inside your heart. "This... This wasn't supossed to happen, Jungkook." you start pacing around the room, as if trying to find an exit while avoiding his gaze. "This was just a summer fling. That's all it was, I'm supposed to come back to the city in two weeks and-"
"A summer fling?" a sardonic sneer comes out of him. "Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening again..." he mumbles to himself before rising from the bed. You stop immediately, a shiver quaking through you as his impressive frame intimidates His eyebrows are drawn together and his dark eyes are void of any prior emotion. "You're going back to the city in two weeks? And you didn't care to tell me until now, after I just spilled my guts to you?"
You eyes fill up with uncomfortable tears, reaching one arm towards him. "Jung-"
He flinches, taking one step back. "A summer fling is all I mean to you?"
"Ju- "
"Look me in the eyes, right now, and tell me that's all I mean to you. A summer fling." panic crawls up your throat. There's the need within you to confirm, to stare into his beautiful and stern eyes and tell him that, yes, that's all he is to you. But you've never been a good liar. So nothing comes out. You opt for wrapping your ams around yourself wishing they were his and lowering your eyes to the ground. "I think... I think you should leave."
Those are the last words he says to you, and the last thing you see when you turn around one more time after gathering your clothes, is his back as he looks out the window.
You allow yourself to cry the exact moment you step into Chaelin's apartment. Your friend is sitting on the couch, bowl of cereal in hand and a fresh cup of coffee sitting on the livingroom's table.
"Hey, you're early tod- Baby, what's wrong?"
"Please, don't laugh."
That morning, you lay down for hours on the couch with your head on Chaelin's lap while she softly brushes your hair as you cry, hiccup, fight through the pain in your heart and relate to her as best as you can the latest events.
She doesn't laugh at all.
"She'll come back." Mijoo's slurred words do nothing to put Jungkook's state at ease that night. He simply shrugs, fingers clenching at his sides, frowing into his drink before gulping down the bitter taste of vodka in one shot. "Seriously, I think she's just afraid. My ex was the same."
"Comparing her to your ex is not the analogy you think it is."
"Ugh, shut up. Things didn't work with my ex because she was a bitch." Jungkook gives Mijoo a pointed look which she responds to by rolling her eyes and sipping on her rum coke. "Your girl is not a bitch. She used to be a bitch. What she did this morning was bitchy, but, like I said, she's just being a pussy. If she only wanted sex with you, she wouldn't have been doing couple stuff with you the entire summer."
"Whatever. I don't care." he lies and Mijoo knows he's lying but decides to drop the subject fo now.
"We can't keep spending our days smoking weed." Chaelin speaks over Blanche's voice on the TV.
"I know. I'm just sad."
"You have to come back and tell him how you feel."
"I know."
There's a beat of silence before your friend kicks your thigh with her feet.
"I know and I will." you mumble through red eyes and smoke clouds.
It's September first and it doesn't feel like Jungkook's birthday at all. He's been trying to focus on his work, alternating between isolating in full hermit mode and hanging out with friends to drink away his sorrow. The days have gone by and before he could realize it, he woke up today with over twenty text messages wishing him a happy day and a throbbing hangover.
He dresses up on autopilot. First a cotton shirt, then a pair of jeans and lastly, his Nike's. He doesn't bother tying his sneakers just like he doesn't bother taking a shower. He smokes a cigarette for breakfast, the death stick making him feel nauseaus on an empty stomach. And then he goes to work.
He's been repeating the same routing for the past weeks and he's not thinking of changing it, not even on his bithday.
He spends hours drawing, tattooing and drawing some more between yawns. He ignores texts an phone calls and simply waits until the day is over to go home, go to bed and forget about the fact that you're probably on your way to the city and that he hasn't crossed your mind not even once.
You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping cup of ice cream as it melts down your fingers the more you wait. The shop is already empty and it's starting to darken out side, and still you're so hot. Your shorts are heavy and your tank top is sticking to your skin. You didn't even bother to put on any make, although your eyebags definitely needed some concieling and your lashes some dimension to hide the fact that you'd been crying for the last few days.
'You're crazy about him.'
Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.
You've lost count of how many times your best friend has given your advice, or simply encouraged you to do something you've been too scared to try.
'And he's cazy about you too.'
Chaelin might be wrong about marmite and the movie Cats, but she's definitely now wrong about anything regarding your and Jungkook.
That's it. You briefly close your eyes, inhale a deep breath then release it slowly. You start walking. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing the door open.
The tattoed blonde looks up from the counter the second you come into view. She smiles at the distance between you two. "You can come closer. I won't bite."
You clear your throat, stalking closer to her. "Is he-"
"He's in the back." she replies before you can finish you question. You close your mouth, clear your throat and nod your head.
"Thanks, Mijoo." she gives you a small wink, her smile easing your nerves like she had three months ago.
She watches you disappear. She shakes he head, her smile meeting her eyes. "I told him so."
Jungkook ignores the knock on his door at first. It's almost ten and the parlor is about to close. He just has to finish this last fucking sketch so he can grab his shit and go the fuck ho-
Knock knock.
He growls, exhasperation cursing through him. He runs a hand through his messy pile of hair, his rings tangling between the strands, making him wince in pain. "Come in." he grunts under his breath. The door opens. "Mijoo, I really have to finish-"
He stops dead in his tracks as soon as he sees you.
"Hey." you say after a moment of hesitation.
"Hey." he replies and although there's something inside, deep in his chest, shouting at him to stand up, run up to you and kiss your face while he tells you how beautiful you look right now and how happy he is to see that you're still here, he decides against it. "Listen, ____, I'm pretty busy-"
"No, you listen to me." you cut him off abruptly. He looks taken aback and is already opening his mouth to say something, but you're not having it. "Please, just... Let me talk."
Silence looms between the two of you for a while, a staring contest defying each other to back down. When you take one step inside and close the door behind you, he sighs and leans back against his chair.
You move towards him slowly, your lip caught between your lip going through your mind for the speech you'd been preparing the last few days. Your hands are sticky due to the the sugary treat liquifying in your hand. "I know there's no reason you should give me another chance after rejecting you in high school, and there's definitely no reason why you should forgive me for the way I shut you out a few weeks ago. You've been confessing your feelings to me since we were teenagers, and now it's my turn to tell you exactly how I feel about you."
"Jungkook, the truth is... I like you so much. I like you more than I've ever liked anyone. Ever. I said this was just a summer fling, and I was lying. I was lying because there's no way a simple summer fling could make me feel the way you do. There's no way a simple summer fling could make me want not just summer with you, but also fall and winter, and spring and every summer that comes next."
You hadn't realize when your eyes filling up with tears until the sight of him starts blurrying in front of you. His fingers reach yours, his thumb comforting on your skin. "____, it's okay-"
"I'm not done yet." you sniffle, gathering enough courage to continue. "I brought you a lemon sherbet because you said it was your favourite. But you also implied I was your favourite, and I want to keep being you favourite, but now it's already melted and-"
The corners of Jungkook's lips start pulling upward as he tugs you towards him, his heart loudly jumping inside his chest. "Shhh, come here."
He takes the ice cream from your hand and places it on his desk. Then he's helping you onto his lap, your head tucked under his chin and your arms wapping on their own around his neck.
He doesn't care about your sticky fingers or the wet stains of your tears in his shirt. The only thing he cares about is the fact that you're right there, letting him engulf your frame and drown in the scent and warmth he'd misses so much.
The first day of June has Jungkook sweating and wishing for a haircut. Jungkook usually hates summer. He hates the fact that he has to shower at least twice a day, and the fact that the heat is almost unbearable to sleep in and also the fact that he's easily sunburnt.
This year, however, Jungkook likes summer a little bit more.
"Excuse me, miss. Do you have an appointment?" it's the fact that you're starting to wear those summer dresses he loves so much, and the fact that your skin glows under the sun like glitter, and also the fact that he can lick ice cream off of it whenever he desires.
"I am the appointment." your giggle is almost childlike, playing with Jungkook's heart strings. You shut the door behind you, nearing him. You also seem to always have that flush on your cheeks. Although he likes to think part of it is due to him. He doesn't say anything else as he puts his pencil down and instead turns around in the chair to have you immediately on top of his thighs.
Yeah, he also likes the path your lips trace from his cheek, to his jaw, ending at the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. It still makes his body quaver to this day.
"Let me see." he murmurs against you forhear, his hand already working on unbottoning the front of your dress.
"Mijoo hasn't left yet." you whisper back, your smile impossible to supress and the faint whimper impossible to hide when his fingers expose your breast and tug at the titanium barbell adorning the already hardened nub.
Jungkook loves knowing he was the one to do that, and also the only one to play with it. He doesn't hesitate when he dips his head. "As if we'd ever cared about that." he adds, wrapping your sole point in his mouth.
He fucks you on his studio table with your legs around his waist and his tongue playing with both your breasts, the tattoo sketches long forgotten, scattered on the floor as he whispers against your flesh something that sounds a lot like 'I love you'.
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
noteguk · 26 days ago
white lies | jjk | m
— summary; in which Jungkook lies his way out of and into trouble. But he can’t tell white lies when it comes to you. 
— contents and warnings; smut, fluff, very minor angst, poor attempts at humor, athlete!jungkook x reader, childhood best friends, fake dating, idiots to lovers, far too many movie references, a tiny bit of jealousy, jk is a football/soccer player, mentions of alcohol and drugs, the catastrophic event that is a frat party, jk is kind of a himbo, so much sexual tension, mutual pining, a lot of touching, dirty talk, fingering, grinding, jk has a big dick, praise, body worship if you squint, unprotected sex (don’t.), pulling out, very mild possessiveness, mid-sex confessions, the L word…, Jungkook wants to fuck you in his team jacket because his tastes are very singular and you wouldn’t understand it 
— words; 13,3k
— author’s notes; I know what you’re thinking… and yes, every bad movie mentioned is real. Also, this is a self-aware cliche and 100% self indulgent. Have fun!
Tumblr media
When people first found out that you and Jungkook were friends, you received a very predictable, repetitive sequence of reactions.
First came disbelief. It was the most comprehensible one, at least from your perspective, taking into consideration that you and Jungkook were completely different people. He was loud (sometimes too loud) and outgoing, probably knew at least ninety percent of the campus population by name and city of origin. Jungkook was warm, friendly, the type of guy that you’d confess all your worries to if given enough time. You, on the other hand, was more on the “colder” side — you weren’t as inviting with strangers, and didn't mind going through moments of awkward silence. Jungkook was a talker and you were a listener; he was a daydreamer and you were a brute realist: maybe that was why your friendship worked so well. But most people couldn’t really get it. 
Second came the questions — the doubts, the sideway glances, even a few bitter comments if you were unlucky enough. Jungkook had kind of a reputation when it came to sleeping around, so most people jumped to the conclusion that either you were his favorite plaything (which might have been the most offensive thing you’ve ever heard) or that you were simply the rare one he had friendzoned because he didn’t want to fuck you (a big runner-up to that prize). Eventually, though, you settled their anguishes simply by saying that you knew each other ever since you were kids. 
Which took you to the final phase: relief and acceptance. The ones who saw you as a threat instantly relaxed, and the ones who couldn’t understand why he would “waste his time” with “someone like you” quickly understood that it was a deep, innocent connection that he was just “too sweet to let go.” Obviously, that didn’t make you feel any better. 
Truth was, it was kind of hard being friends with Jungkook. Mostly because the boy casted a light so strong that it was almost impossible not to stay in his shadow, but also because you always felt like you had to justify your existence every time he chose you instead of anyone else. You were the person he ran to hug once his team won; you were the one he ditched other people for, just to hang out with you. It made you insecure. And, yeah, there was also the fact that you had been madly in love with him for some time now, but that was unimportant. 
Well, until he asked you to be his (fake) girlfriend, that was. 
Jungkook, bless his heart, was never one of the brightest when it came to real-life situations. He could ace a test with no issue, but, when it came to reading the room, he was a lost cause — something a bit paradoxical when you realized how social he was, but, well, people probably thought his cluelessness was adorable. And that might also be the reason why he never caught onto your pathetic crush, but that was a different topic. 
“Why the fuck would I do something like that?” You munched on your chips, eyes flickering over the TV screen. The two of you had made the terrible decision to hatewatch all the bad shark-themed movies you could find, and now you were suffering the brain-smoothing consequences. “Sounds like the dumbest plan in the world. And I don’t understand what you’d get out of that.” 
He whined, throwing his head back against the couch. Jungkook had been trying to convince you for half a movie now, and he was running out of arguments. “I told you already,” he stressed, eyes locked to the white ceiling. With the living room completely immersed in shadows, the shades of blue and yellow from the television reflected off his face like a prism. “The boys have been teasing me because I could never hold a date.” 
“And? That’s your problem.” You looked at him, meeting his desperate stare. “And, honestly, why did you even lie about it? It’s true, you know it.” 
“You’re cruel.” Jungkook tugged the bag of chips off your hands, ignoring your complaints. “I have my reasons.” 
You laughed. “Yeah, what is it again? Waiting for the right person?” You teased, watching as his frown only deepened, his cheeks puffed out as he angrily chewed. “Come on, Cinderella, snap out of that fairy tale. Have you stopped to think how many nice girls you let go because of that stupid mindset?”
“It’s not stupid,” he murmured, clearly irritated. 
With a sigh, you shrugged. “Fine. It’s not.” You yanked the bag of chips away from him, slightly sad that it was almost finished. Unfortunately, your marathon had made you eat a lot more junk food than your body could probably handle, but that was a problem for the future you. Present you really wanted more chips. “I’m just bitter.” 
“We can agree on that.” He smirked, a devilish glint in his eyes that prepared you for the worst. “What was it that those guys called you in high school?”
You pointed at him. “Don’t,” you warned. 
But his smirk only grew, morphing into a full-blown (dazzling) smile. “Ice queen?” Jungkook tried. 
You rolled your eyes, sinking into the couch. “It’s a dumb nickname, shut up,” you groaned, trying to focus on the shitstorm that unreveled on the television. There was a priest trying to exorcise the ghost of a demon shark, and that was a thousand times more interesting than recalling the nightmare that was high school. “It got even worse when Frozen came out.” 
“Still gets to you, though.” Jungkook poked you on the shoulder, allowing himself one last laugh at your distress before striking once again. “So… wanna help me?” 
Yeah, like that would have magically changed, you thought. “I already said no.”
Jungkook leaned forward, pressing his forehead against his palms. He was in anguish, but you couldn’t feel that sorry when he had caused that himself. “But I already told them we were dating,” he whined, defeated. 
“Again, sounds like a you problem,” you said, throwing the empty bag of chips on the coffee table. “Just say that you panicked and made some shit up. Own up to it, you’re already a grown up.” 
Jungkook shook his head. “I can’t, they’ll never believe me again.” 
You sighed, crossing your arms. “Dragging this out won’t make it any better. You should tell them the truth,” you said, pausing for an instant. “Actually, I can’t see this ending well in, like, any possible scenario. Even Doctor Strange had better odds in Infinity War.” 
The fact that you liked Jungkook was the key point that he didn’t have access to, but that was very clear inside your head. Even in the best possible outcome, in which no one doubted a single thing and everything magically went back to normal, you’d still have to live with that weight inside your chest. Sounds pretty fucking painful to pretend to be someone’s girlfriend when you were almost considering selling your soul to turn that into a real situation. And then to be done with it like it wasn’t nothing more than a business transaction, or a platonic favor for a good friend... that would just suck, to put it lightly. 
Sadly, Jungkook wouldn’t give up so easily. “What if we, like, only do it tomorrow night?” He pressed on, turning to take a better look at you. He always looked so breathtaking, his gorgeous big eyes just staring at you like a cute dog pleading for a piece of meat. You could sense yourself starting to fold, and that was always a bad sign. “Just for a few of my friends to see us together, show that it’s the truth, and then I can just say that we didn’t work out and decided to stay friends.” 
“But it’s not the truth,” you stressed, turning your head back to the television. You were starting to get pissed at the fact that you’d have to watch that movie again to try and make sense of what was happening. But you were also sad because you were both considering his request and suffering in advance because of its unavoidable consequences. “I don’t wanna be just another name in your list of conquests, Jungkook.”
Correction: you didn’t want to pretend to be one. You were fine with trying something out (for real) with Jungkook, even if you didn’t get a fairy tale ending. You just didn’t want to play with your own emotions — and probably induce some emotional trauma — because your best friend couldn’t own up to the fact that he lied about something (again). 
And, yet, it was getting to you. Just like a vipers’ venom, it had started to spread inside your body, corroding the walls you had built up for yourself. Your therapist would rip you to shreds if she knew you were thinking like that, but maybe ignoring the only chance you’d have with Jungkook — real or not — would be the foolish decision there. 
Besides, it couldn’t be that bad, could it? You could push your pride aside and help a friend during a time of need… and who knows, maybe get a couple kisses along the way? And just for one night? You could do that… 
Back in the present, Jungkook was just now digesting your previous claim. “What? You’d never be just that,” he guaranteed, an expression of bewilderment plastered all over his obnoxiously handsome face. Every day was a new test from God, and you were failing miserably. “You’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you.” 
Ouch. That was a low hit. And worse? You knew that he didn’t say that with any malicious intent to manipulate you or anything — he genuinely meant it. Jungkook was such a sweetheart when it came to you, he’d stay up to help you with your projects; volunteer to take you out on an adventure when you were feeling down, even if he had to face the consequences of skipping practice later. He had done so much for you, and you couldn’t even push your feelings aside one time to help him out. 
Your high school insecurities were starting to erupt, and you were thinking that maybe those dumb nicknames were right. Maybe you were kind of a cold-hearted bitch. Especially when your best friend/love of your life was pouting and begging you to help him and all you could do was to mock him. 
Beside you, Jungkook deflated like the saddest balloon in the world, a long sigh leaving his lips. “You know what? You’re right, this is stupid,” he admitted, running one hand through his hair. You always wanted to do the same, it was so soft and puffy that you could get lost in it. Also, there was something about the tattoos on his arms, the veins of his hand, that just made you lose your mind. “I should just own up to it.” 
Took you a couple seconds for your rational brain to catch up to your horny one, but it eventually did. “It’s okay, I’ll do it,” you told him. “Just one night.”
“Really?” Jungkook’s eyes widened like a kid’s during Christmas morning, a beautiful smile overtaking his features. He jumped in your direction and, before you could even react, his strong arms were wrapping around you, pulling you into a warm hug. You were so fucked. “You’re the best! I owe you big time.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll remember that.” You placed your hand on his forehead and pushed him away, ignoring both his whiny complaints and the quickening of your heartbeat. “Now back to our shark exorcism.” 
Jungkook’s teammates didn’t get why the two of you were still friends. 
As Jimin, the world’s most competitive striker once said, some things are so obvious that you just can’t ignore them unless you have a secret agenda. When it came to that specific subject, the obvious thing would be that Jungkook had an earth-shattering crush on you, and his secret agenda was the fact that he was too blind to see that it was mutual, so he decided to repress it until it asphyxiated him. 
His teammates tried to warn him over and over again that you, in fact, were all heart eyes and chuckles when he came around, Namjoon even got close to creating an entire PowerPoint presentation about it, but all of it fell on deaf ears. Jungkook, in his blissful ignorance, just wouldn’t hear it. From where he was standing, there was just no conceivable way that his laughable childhood crush had any chance of being mutual. 
Jungkook didn’t know much about psychology, though, because, if he did, he might have faced those emotions head-first instead of avoiding them until they started presenting themselves in different, slightly destructive ways. When you repress something, it doesn’t really go away, it just settles somewhere else, like squeezing a handful of slime. No matter how much he tried to get a hold of it, it still slipped between his fingers — made him cancel dates last minute to spend the night with you, convinced him to do the dumbest things just to make you happy. 
And, now, in a weird projection of a personal fantasy, he was pretending to be your boyfriend. 
In his defense, it wasn’t a machiavellian plan he had meticulously constructed: it just kind of happened. Jungkook wasn’t exactly a poster child when it came to being teased — after all, he was used to be being the best at practically everything — and, when his teammates all ganged up on him during their break, claiming that he just couldn’t get a girlfriend even if he tried, both his annoyance and the practice-induced exhaustion made him say that he was already dating someone. 
“Yeah, right,” Hoseok had mocked, pressing a towel against his sweaty forehead. The changing room thankfully had a great ventilation system, combined with large windows, otherwise they would’ve died from the heat and the smell already. “Just say that you can’t take a joke and move on, Jeon. No need to lie about it.” 
Taehyung barged in before Jungkook could get a word out. “Besides, we know there’s only one person that can fit inside your heart,” he said, watching as Jungkook’s eye twitched. “How’s ___ doing, by the way?” 
“She’s fine,” he answered, monotone. 
“Yeah? Are you gonna ask her out or what?” Jimin teased, his voice coming from beyond a row of lockers. “Or are we free to do that?” 
In typical animal planet fashion, the locker room exploded in a roar of laughs and fragmented provocations, every guy trying to speak louder than the other. Jungkook felt himself shrink, his frown deepening as his heartbeat quickened. There was something burning at his insides, a mixture of shame and jealousy, and that was exactly what pushed those idiotic words out of his mouth. 
“Actually,” he started speaking when the thunderous laughter diminished, turning around to place his bag back in his locker. “I’m dating ___.” 
It was almost amazing how fast the room morphed into a crypt — the thick silence hitting Jungkook right in the face, weighing down and turning into guilt and worry inside his stomach. He was unable to look back and face his friends, instead pretending to be extremely interested in his bag’s zipper. 
Why did he always do that? Why couldn’t he tell the truth for once in his life? 
“That seems even harder to believe,” Taehyung was the first one to speak, the one brave soul that verbalized what they all were thinking. Simply as that, life returned to the locker room, and so did the sounds of his teammates laughing at him. “Just yesterday you were acting all nervous around her.” 
Jungkook slammed his locker door shut, turning around with a determined expression. “Well, yeah, because I was planning to ask her to be my girlfriend,” he had never constructed a lie so fast before, but, even then, Taehyung didn’t look like he was buying it. “I’m serious.” 
Which was probably the least trust-worthy thing he could say. 
“Prove it, then.” Hoseok smiled, crossing his arms. “Call her right now.”
“I’ll do you better,” Jungkook didn’t hesitate — a terrible sign, he realized one heartbeat too late; it was never good when his mouth decided to take the lead, allowing for the words to flow out of him before they could be filtered by his logical brain. But Jungkook was competitive, both in the field and in his personal life, and he couldn’t stand the humiliation that came from both losing an argument and being caught in a lie. As ironic as that was. “I’ll take her to Saturday’s party and you can all see it with your own eyes.” 
Jungkook was just buying himself some time, hoping that his charms would be enough to sweep you into his miraculous scheme before his teammates could realize something was off. Hoseok, of course, did not know that, but his expression showed that he wasn’t all too convinced either. “Sounds great,” he lowered his voice, looking at his friend up and down. “See you there, Jeon.” 
Jungkook left the locker room with a crown of victory hovering over his head and a bright, prideful smile — one which shrunk and shrunk as his day progressed and he realized that there was no way in hell that you’d accept to be swept into his personal melodrama. 
He had enough time between that conversation and the night at your place to go through all the stages of grief. In denial he found himself running from those cyclical thoughts, ignoring that it had happened in the first place — maybe it was all a big misunderstanding and his friends would let that situation go; maybe he didn’t have to sacrifice his friendship with you just to avoid being wrong about something. In anger, came anxiety, frustration at himself for being so dumb and impulsive, allowing for his ego to step in the way and shield him from reason. That one he suffocated with extra gym time and a consequential terrible cramp in his shoulder. 
Soon enough came bargain and Jungkook was thinking that, if he were to be very lucky, he could convince his friends that you happened to be way too sick to go to the party that night, and that, weirdly enough, you two broke up the very next day and you didn’t want to talk about it ever. Maybe he could go through all that in secret, use all his brain power to construct an elaborate, moviesque plan to get him out of the ditch he had dug himself and no one would ever know of his dirty lies. 
It was all for nothing, however — the depression stage materialized soon after, in the middle of his advanced calculus class, and Jungkook was practically imploding over the fact that he had managed to ruin everything between you two, and also between him and the rest of his team. That was it: not only would he lose his best friend (and perhaps the love of his life) but he would also lose trust and respect in the field. 
Acceptance only reached him when Jungkook was on his way to your place, and he came to terms with the idea that he was already in deep shit, so he should at least try and change that. He would ask you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a bit — even if he was positive you’d laugh until you were out of breath and never let him forget about it — under the possibility that perhaps, you’d say yes. 
Which, surprisingly, you did. 
Now, Jungkook wasn’t particularly emotional when it came to most things — even in the field, he managed to control that side of him well — but there was something intense bubbling up in his stomach as he made his way back to his dorm after the movie was over; a laugh that hung somewhere between maniacal and desperate that he couldn’t hold back. That could be bad, really bad. Especially considering that he didn’t have the slightest clue how he would hold himself back from just vomiting out a fervent love confession the second that you kissed him. 
Because that was supposed to happen, right? In a relationship, pretend one or not, people should kiss. He should act like your boyfriend, perhaps a fantasy that he had way too often, and still spare enough brain matter to remind himself that it was all fake. And that it was also all his fault. 
As established, Jungkook was the president of the company of putting himself in extremely uncomfortable situations. And, when the night of the party arrived, he decided to screw himself even further by lending you his team jacket. 
It was because it was cold, he tried to brainwash himself. It was because you were cold, because the night was cold, and not because he liked the view of you in it in the slightest. Or maybe because it was a bomb pumping his thorax full of pride and possessiveness; because it was making him believe, even for a second, that you two were part of a chimerical alternative universe in which you were together. Not at all. It was strictly business — the neighborly job of a worried best friend, at most. 
“Is this really necessary?” you spoke his doubts out loud, tugging at the sides of his large jacket. 
Jungkook managed to keep his cool, eyes darting around the peaceful streets. You two were close to the party, he could already listen to the repetitive beat echoing through the cool breeze, and every step he took amplified his anticipation by tenfold. “It speaks for itself,” he told you, his hand firm on your waist. You were wearing a sleeveless top and a skirt in the same color, and there was a stripe of exposed skin in between the two that Jungkook’s hand brushed against sometimes. He felt like he was a virgin again, hyper-aware of your body and completely unsure what to do with himself. “Besides, you look good wearing it.”
You rolled your eyes. “I look stupid.”
Jungkook glimpsed at you, a sleazy smile growing on his lips. “You look like my girlfriend.”
You snorted. “Oh, so I look super stupid,” you corrected, looking away. 
“Funny,” Jungkook answered, monotone. His smile melted away — there was no way in hell it was mutual, he thought, his friends were just fucking him over, trying to see him embarrass himself. “I hope you act better than you tell jokes.” 
“It’s probably as good as the effects in Birdemic,” you said. 
Jungkook shook his head — he had conflicting emotions when it came to that movie, considering that it was so awful that he laughed to the point of choking on his popcorn. You, being the empathic friend you were, brought up his near-death experience as often as you could. “At least that movie was funny, your poor acting will just be sad,” he threw back. 
“Thanks.” You giggled, making his heart leap inside his chest. Jungkook wanted to beat his head against the asphalt until that shy spirit of his middle school past left his body completely. “I’ll let you do the talking.” 
Jungkook nodded, allowing his gaze to navigate around the neighborhood — there were a handful of strangers in the streets with the two of you, but it was a shortcut to the frat house that not many people knew of. It brought along a peculiar sentiment of intimacy; the way your features were covered by the pale yellow of the light poles making him want to dive in and kiss you until he couldn’t even breathe. The realization that he could actually do that, under the excuse of a fake relationship, was one that almost knocked him out. 
“Just to be sure, by the way,” Jungkook started. “You’re okay with me, like, touching you like you were my girlfriend, right?”
You looked at him for a moment, measuring his expression. “Yeah, that’s part of it,” you told him. “I’m guessing you are okay with it as well?” 
“Fine by me.” Jungkook cleared his throat. The frat was literally just around the corner, buzzing into the night with a generic beat and the joyful yelps of hundreds of strangers. He usually enjoyed that cacophony of sounds, but, that time, it was like the screams from hell. “Just a couple hours, okay? Then you’re free.” 
“It’s fine,” you told him. “How bad can it be?” 
Short answer: bad. Long answer: bad, but with a twist. 
Jungkook looked around the party like he was a kid lost in the supermarket, his eyebrows furrowed as he searched for his teammates (which that whole spectacle was supposed to be for). You felt like a piece of a puzzle thrown in the wrong box, leaning against his toned body as he tried to think of what to do. 
“So…” You cleared your throat, trying to make yourself heard through the loud beating of the song. Jungkook followed your voice, leaning in closer. Maybe your heart skipped at that, but no one had to know. “What’s the plan, captain?”
Jungkook clicked his tongue. You two were leaning against one of the walls of the large living room, in a somewhat calm corner of the party. “I don’t know, I’m not feeling like being interrogated right now,” he said. “I think it’s better if we wait for the guys to get a bit more drunk so they don't think too much about it.” He sighed, looking around for a bit longer. “We could stay here for a while, just sit down and talk. What do you think?”
“Sounds good.” You breathed out. “I’m taking any chance to rest my feet at this point.” 
The ancient gods of the frat parties seemed to be on your side, because it didn’t take much longer than a couple minutes to find a sofa that 1) was unoccupied and 2) didn’t look like it had any suspicious fluids on it. You settled by Jungkook’s side, a breath of relief escaping your chest as you felt the pressure on your calves subside considerably — all you wanted was to go back in time and kill whoever thought high heels were a good idea. 
However, you relaxed way too early. 
You had to hold back a surprised gasp when Jungkook abruptly tugged your legs onto his lap, one hand finding the curvature of your waist instantly. 
“This feels... intimate,” your voice sounded stiff when you spoke up, pushing your skirt down. 
“Yeah, that’s the point.” His eyes roamed around the room for exactly two seconds before they widened just slightly, then snapped back at you. “Okay, two things.” Jungkook placed one arm on the couch behind you, murmuring as he leaned in. He had that scheming expression on his face that had been plaguing you ever since middle school, when he first discovered pranks, and you didn’t think that was a good sign. “First: Yoongi, Jin and Namjoon are here, and they’re looking— shh, don’t look! Dumbass.” 
“Sorry. You’re the dumbass,” you said. It was hard not to look when you felt as if you were under a microscope, watched closely by his meat-headed friends. Still, you tried to keep your composure. “And the second?” 
He exhaled, the hand that was on your waist traveling to touch your cheek. You wondered if he could feel how hot your skin had become. “It’s kind of the time that you have to commit to being my fake girlfriend,” Jungkook warned, stare oscillating towards your mouth. “I’m gonna kiss you now, okay?” 
Suddenly, you felt like you were right back in high school, about to have your first kiss and not having a single clue about how to do it. “O-Okay,” you whispered. 
Jungkook didn’t waste any time. Before you could think about something to try and break the ice, his mouth was on yours, silencing you and turning your thoughts into white noise. He kissed you softly, much slower than you had expected, giving you time to adapt to the tender movement of his lips caressing yours. 
You sighed, gradually remembering how to move your limbs. Your hands rested on his broad shoulders as he leaned his head to the side, opening his mouth just slightly and deepening the kiss. No matter how many times you had fantasized about that moment, it could never compare to the way his tongue slipped inside your mouth, nor the small grunt he let out against your lips. Kissing Jungkook felt like heaven and you had completely forgotten about your fake dating situation until he decided to pull back just a bit. 
“Fuck, you’re a good kisser,” he mumbled, nose bumping against yours. 
You let out a breathy laugh. “Why do you sound so surprised?”
“I’m not surprised.” His hand slithered down to your hips, his warm palm sending shockwaves through your body. You felt like you were in danger from the way he was speaking, his body moving closer to yours. “I knew you would be.” 
Jungkook didn’t even give you time to process his words before he was kissing you again — sloppier, hungrier this time. Again and again, he chose to throw gasoline into the flame of your desire, and what could you do but to melt under his touches, to kiss him just as eagerly. 
Faithlessly, you were trying to convince yourself that it was all an act, that he was just playing it up because he knew his friends were watching. But his hand just felt so firm on your hips, pulling you closer as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, fingers digging into the soft sea of his hair. It seemed so real when he moaned softly against your mouth, biting on your lower lip before tracing kisses down your jaw, towards your neck. 
Or maybe you were just so deep inside your own illusions that you didn’t want to believe that it was all for show. 
Your eyes parted just slightly, trying to find his friends amongst the crowd of strangers. It was extremely hard to think when Jungkook was sucking and licking his way down your neck, his hand squeezing your thighs. Apparently they were nowhere in sight, though, for those obviously bright orange jackets had left your field of vision. 
“Jungkook,” you called, surprised at how firm your voice came out. The boy only hummed against your flesh, not paying much attention to what you were saying. “I think they already left.” 
Still, it didn’t seem like he was willing to stop. Jungkook mumbled against your neck, his voice so low that you almost didn’t catch his words past the loud music. “Yeah, but someone else can be watching.” 
You didn’t know who, though, and you didn’t really care. You were more worried about the small bites he was placing on your skin, the soft sucking of his mouth that left you pressing your legs together, begging for relief. “Um, okay, but there’s a minor emergency,” you told him. 
That managed to get his attention, for the boy pulled back so he could look at you. “What is it?” He asked, worried. 
You shifted around on the couch, your legs still thrown over his lap. You noticed something hard poking against your skin, which gave you enough momentum to admit out loud that, “I’m, like, soaking wet right now,” you said. “My neck is super sensitive and I’m really trying to hold back here.” 
Jungkook froze, blinking a few times and your words settled in his mind. He would never understand how you could be so shy in one second, and then just throw that bomb on his lap like it wouldn’t make his dick rock hard in record time. “Fuck, how can you just say that so naturally?” He cursed. 
“Sorry.” You bit your lip. Jungkook had to fight the urge to kiss you again. “I’m just being honest.” 
How ironic was it that, while Jungkook lied his way through life, you had no problem throwing those random truths right at his face? The opposites do attract, after all. 
He cleared his throat, unsure if he should pull away or not. “Want me to stop?” 
“I don’t know,” you admitted, “I think this is getting weird.” 
Maybe it would be the perfect time for the world to just open up and eat him whole, considering that Jungkook had never felt so embarrassed in his life. “Weird how?” He asked. 
“Weird like… weird.” Self-expression under moments of extreme sexual pressure really wasn’t your forte. You broke eye contact, flustered, instead choosing to look at the cluttered coffee table by your side. Jungkook’s hand was still on your body and you liked his touch far too much for your own well-being. “Maybe it would be better if we just went home.” 
“Right now?” Jungkook whined. Sometimes he still acted like the kid you knew, all puffy cheeks and demands for attention; for things to happen the way he wanted. You, being the simp that you were, were his number one enabler. “One more hour, please? We’ve been here for so little time, I just wanna cover all my bases.” 
His pouty lips and needy voice was a Molotov cocktail thrown directly in your heart. “Fine.” You puffed out. 
“Thank you!” Jungkook beamed, leaning in to place a kiss on your lips. The action was so automatic, so unthought, that neither of you reacted to it for a second. “Um… why do you say we try the backyard? Jimin said he’d try some new barbecue technique or whatever, so maybe they’re outside.” 
“And after that we leave?” You asked. He nodded. “And you do the talking?” 
“I’ll try my best,” Jungkook agreed.
You sighed. “Okay. I need some fresh air anyways.” 
Back in middle school, you had a very eccentric world history teacher. You clearly remember one afternoon that she simply walked in and asked the class what was the worst type of torturing they could ever imagine a human could endure — which ended up being a great opening line to a very interesting class about the medieval times and the ways of the inquisition, but also something that plagued you for a long time. That night, when you returned home, you dove into the rabbit hole about the topic and (much to the horror of your parents) discovered a thing or two about torture methods. 
The key point, it seemed, wasn’t even about the actual physical act, but about the horrendous expectation that came from it. Psychological torture could break a person apart before someone even laid a finger on them. You knew that already, but you had never truly witnessed it until that night. 
“Well, guess I have to take back what I said,” Hoseok started, his speech slightly slurred by the alcohol. Jungkook was right, they were a lot less intense after a few drinks, and apparently weren’t questioning a lot either. “I didn’t think you two would ever end up together after so many years of bullshit, but here we are.”
“Cheers to that, brother,” Jimin barged in, raising his cup. 
Jungkook chuckled behind you. “You guys have no fucking faith in me.” 
As a typical former theater kid, you were naturally dramatic. But you weren’t kidding when you said that pretending to be Jungkook’s girlfriend might be a newfound method of psychological torture — especially when he made you sit on his lap, his head resting on your shoulder and strong arms wrapped tightly around you. It was because there were no more chairs left in the backyard, and he wanted to play the gentleman/possessive boyfriend and didn’t allow you to stand up. But justificatives were fruitless when you could feel him getting harder by the minute. 
“It’s not about faith, you just fucked me up,” Taehyung said. He was the least inebriated one out of the group, but that didn’t mean much. “I owe Yoongi like fifty bucks now, thanks, man.” 
Jungkook was probably going to say something equally ludicrous in return, but your  curiosity made you act quicker. “Why?” You asked. 
Taehyung clicked his tongue, leaning back against his chair — it was the type that folded in half, and you were thinking he would flip over any second now if he continued with those harsh movements. “Ah. No biggie. He was one of the few people who believed your boyfriend here when he said you two were together.” 
You giggled, trying to keep yourself composed. Unlike Jungkook, you were not very skilled when it came to making up lies at the spot, so you ended up deflecting a little. “Yeah, it was a bit… sudden. So I understand the surprise.” 
Hoseok yawned, throwing his head back. “Nah, not really a surprise.”
You blinked. “What do you mean?”
Jungkook narrowed his eyes, shifting a little behind you. You felt him tense up, which probably wasn’t a good sign. “Yeah, what do you mean?” He echoed. 
“I mean… that it wasn’t a surprise,” Hoseok repeated, raising his eyebrows in a quiet mockery, as if you had just questioned the color of the sky. “Yoongi was sure Jungkook had finally gotten the balls to confess to you. I, myself, didn’t think it was that likely.” 
Wait, what? Suddenly you felt like you were the one being lied to, and all of them were in it together, building this huge prank around that story just to humiliate you. There was no way Hoseok was serious about that, not when the booze was probably melting his brain. 
Before you could continue to think about that, however, Jungkook spoke up. “Man, you guys suck.” He laughed. “I told you I’d do it someday and you never believed it.” 
Ah. That was it. Jungkook had lied about it just like he had done countless times in the past. 
You deflated a little, a sting of pain inside your chest as the conversation continued to unravel around you. Right then and there, you felt like the stupidest person alive, with no right to complain about the consequences you knew would come from that idea. Even if you had almost convinced yourself otherwise, what probably happened was that Jungkook got cornered some time in the past about some other girl, and ended up telling his friends that he liked you instead, just to get out of that situation. Like some of his lies, it snowballed, and it took you to where you two were now. 
It was hard not to feel hurt, even if you still believed you were a bit at fault for agreeing to his moronic plan. You knew you’d end up like this, suffering over someone who didn’t see you the same way, and you still fell headfirst into that trap. Maybe you were the bad guy in that situation, maybe you were the creepy one for taking advantage of his situation just to feel his body against yours, just to kiss him and pretend that it was all true. Maybe you had no room to judge. 
If you concentrated really hard, you could probably pinpoint the exact moment in which you realized that you were head over heels for your best friend. It wasn’t as glamorous as you’d like, just a dirty thought catalyzed by your teen hormones that unleashed an avalanche — it had happened back in the dark, desolate lands of high school, when you were cheering for Jungkook during one of his games. It was an important one, from what you could remember, his brain buzzing with the tension of his senior year and the promise of a fantastic victory. As always, you were there for him: front row, face painted with the colors of your high school, and cheering him on. 
He smiled at you, like he always did, but there was something odd about it. Like a lightning crossing the sky, one simple (yet fatal) intrusive thought popped up inside your head: he’s hot. 
It was all downhill from there. As much as you tried to wave those ideas away, they kept growing and multiplying, finding new ways to justify themselves — not only was Jungkook hot, suddenly, but you also realized that he would be an amazing boyfriend. He was sweet, kind, funny, determined, a bit ditzy sometimes but nothing you couldn’t deal with. He heard you complain about your problems when needed, but also felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable with you. There were so many shared interests between you two that you were positive that you could talk forever and never run out of topics to discuss. Jungkook was a walking minefield and you just stepped right on it. 
And there you were, stumbling your way down into hell as your lives progressed, and Jungkook got into the same college as you. As predicted, he quickly grew to be the campus’ new star player: a great attacking midfielder, with the number 10 plastered on his shirt and a heart-stopping smile on his face. How on earth could you fight that temptation? It was like a re-enactment of Eve and the snake in the garden of eden. Only the snake had amazing thunder thighs that looked even better with his team’s shorts. 
You always asked yourself if Jungkook knew what he was doing when he used his shirt to dry the sweat on his forehead, leaving his glistening abs in full display; or maybe when he hugged and swirled you around after they won a game. Part of you wanted to believe that he liked you back, even if you couldn’t really see it. Most of you believed that he was just his personality and nothing else. 
“Hey,” he breathed out, voice husky against your ear. You thanked his oversized jacket for concealing the goosebumps on your arms. “You good?” 
Just on the brink of a meltdown, no biggie. “Yeah, I’m okay.” 
He hummed, nuzzling his face against your neck. “Just a little bit longer, alright?” He placed a tiny kiss there, but it was powerful enough to make you whimper quietly. No one seemed to notice, but you didn’t know why Jungkook did that when you had just told him that your neck was sensitive. “They seem convinced.” 
Maybe “they” should have you included as well, because you had to actively remind yourself that you two were just acting, that he didn’t see you that way. Nevermind the pool of wetness between your legs, nevermind the way your body was on edge with his strong arms pulling you closer; his chiseled abs pressed tightly against your back. Nevermind Jungkook’s sweet smell or the gentle touches of his lips against your skin. It was all fake, dollar store material. It was just a matter of time before your ride became a pumpkin and the dream was over. 
At the same time, you could tell that Jungkook was being affected as well — you could feel the outline of his hard cock poking against your ass when you pressed down on his lap; noticed the tense movements of his arms as they held onto your body. And when Jungkook spoke, with his head placed on your shoulder and a solemn expression on his face, you could tell that he got just a bit choked up every time you shifted around, brushing your ass against his erection. 
The human brain is amazing when it comes to searching for any reason to prove our own theories, however, and that was why you weren’t taking any of those signs seriously — cognitive bias was a thing, and you weren’t falling for its tricks. If there are people out there that believe that the earth is flat, even with a ridiculous amount of evidence against it, you couldn’t trust yourself in believing that you had enough proof to think that Jungkook was interested in you. Maybe your argument was equivalent to “well, I can’t see gravity so it doesn’t exist”, and you didn’t even know it.
So you decided to take it easy, to aim towards the side of caution, as the night progressed into the deeper levels of Dante’s Inferno. By the time that Jungkook decided that you two had accomplished your goal and it was time to get you home, you almost cried in relief. 
You two drove in almost complete silence, only sparsely commenting on a few occurrences of the night. There was a thick blanket of tension hanging between the two of you, a bitter taste in the back of your throat that you couldn’t ignore. It had been a fun night, yeah, but it was done with. Time to burst that bubble and crash back into reality. 
Thankfully or not, depending where you stood, Jungkook didn’t seem to be as worried about those details. He was ridiculously cheerful, beyond proud of his skills, and a little over the moon about the fact that he had been with you the entire night, acting out things he never thought would come true.
“There you go, all done,“ he exclaimed, victorious, the second you two walked into your apartment. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?” 
You scoffed, leaning against the wall so you could remove your shoes. “It wasn’t good either,” you said, monotone. You were physically, emotionally and psychologically exhausted, and you seriously didn’t want to look at his annoyingly pretty face for another second. “Have fun telling them about our instantaneous breakup.” 
At that, Jungkook visibly tensed up. “Ha. Yeah…”
You sighed, beyond pissed off (and heartbroken) at that point. You weren’t Jungkook, weren’t built to lie your way through life, to pretend as if the feelings inside your chest were not your own. “By the way — fuck, I hate high heels,” you complained, throwing your shoes on the floor with a bit more force than necessary. Jungkook flinched a little, distracted. “By the way, what did Hoseok mean by that?”
He blinked, swallowing dry. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck — think of something. “By what?”
You raised one eyebrow. “Saying that you’d never have the guts to confess or whatever.” 
The worst part was that Jungkook could see in your downcast eyes that you had no idea what you were asking him. You seriously couldn’t tell that he had feelings for you — or, if you did, you simply couldn’t believe it. Or maybe you just despised him on a level in which a crush would be preposterous to even consider. “Ah.” He clicked his tongue. Think, you dumbass! Come up with something! “That.” 
You were getting a little choked up now. There was no way you couldn’t notice the trademarked signals of Jungkook buying himself some time, trying to come up with something inside that evil head of his. Maybe you had been right thinking that he had mentioned your name randomly one day, just to save his ass, and now he was dealing with the backlash of his actions. “Yeah, what was it about?” You pressed on. 
Jungkook chuckled, nervous. “Man… I was really hoping you’d forget that.” 
You took a step closer to him, anticipating what was to come. If he was going to hurt you, you wished he would just do it quickly, without dragging it out so much. “Just tell me, Jungkook.” 
And he was trying. Kind of. Jungkook was looking at you like his brain was frying, the Widow’s blue screen reflecting off his widened eyes. “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, stare falling to the floor. “I can’t lie to you about that.”
You scoffed, venom running up your throat. That was priceless. “You tell white lies almost every day, why is this so different?” 
“Because it’s not a white lie.” 
You furrowed your eyebrows and narrowed your eyes, taking another step towards him. “Why are you thinking about lying to me, in the first place?” You asked. “Even if… even if it will hurt me. I deserve to know.” 
“Uhh…” he hesitated, rubbing the back of his head. “Because the truth kind of sucks and it can fuck everything up. And I don’t wanna do that.” 
Apparently you were right about your previous theory, then. Jungkook didn’t see you the same way, after all. And that was fine (it wasn’t), but he couldn’t even grow a pair and tell you straight on. “So you would rather avoid it?” You didn’t relent, motivated by your frustration, your hurt, that sickly feeling of betrayal — everything at once. “That has been kind of a running theme with you, hasn’t it?” You stared at him, but Jungkook could only avert his eyes from your burning gaze, instead looking at his feet. “Fine. Don’t tell me if you don’t want to, but quit dragging me into these bullshit lies of yours. I’m tired.”
“No one has ever cancelled a date with me,” he blurted out.
You hesitated, blinking a few times as you digested his words. “What?”
He breathed out. “No one has ever cancelled a date with me. It was all me,” Jungkook confessed. “I lied to you about that because I wanted to spend more time with you. And I didn’t care about anyone else.”
Overwhelmed by a random wave of courage, his gaze snapped up at you. “I like when you watch my practice and bring me stuff, and I like when you invite me to those dumb movie marathons and make me watch the most disgusting shit,” Jungkook continued, his words falling incoherently from his mouth. You could only stare, flabbergasted, as he spilled months — years — of secrets all at once. “And I like watching you study, and I love seeing you laugh, I love spending time with you, and Hoseok is fucking tired of hearing me talk about it and do nothing.”
“I... don’t understand what you’re saying,” you told him. 
“I told the guys that we were dating because you were literally the only person that popped in my mind, and the only person I actually wanted to be with,” he just went on, not paying attention to your previous comment. Jungkook was a little on edge now, a bit breathless and wide-eyed. He’s nervous, you realized. It had been a long time since you saw him like that. “And this was the best night I’ve had in a while, just because you were there and I— I’m fucking everything up, I told you I would.”
“Jungkook,” you called softly, feeling as if every inhale was an olympic sport. Your heart was beating so fast inside your chest that you were afraid of having a syncope before you could hear the words you needed so badly. “Just tell me what you want to say.” 
He cleared his throat, shifting the weight from one leg to the other. “I’m like… how do I put this…?” Jungkook paused, took a deep breath, and dropped the bomb. “I’ve been kind of in love with you ever since we were like eight, yeah.” 
Record scratch. Freeze frame. “You what?” 
Jungkook chuckled. “Yep… awkward,” he said. “Sorry.” 
It hasn’t settled in just yet, which explained why you didn’t start screaming at him. “And you have the guts to tell me that I drop things naturally?” You asked. “Are you serious? You better not be fucking with me right now.”
He raised one hand and placed it on his chest. “I’m not, promise.” 
And then it hit you like a ton of bricks. “Jeon Jungkook!” You screeched, both hands flying to hold onto his shirt, rocking him back and forth with the strength of a thousand men. “I’m gonna make you swallow my fist!”
Jungkook was dumbfounded, ten times more confused than when you tried to explain to him the plot of the Velocipastor — which really wasn’t that hard, it was just a pastor who was also a dinosaur shifter. But his brain wasn’t good at following those types of unpredictable plots, and that counted your burst of anger. “That wasn’t the reaction I was expecting at all,” he murmured, voice flat with disbelief. 
But it was your turn to ramble incoherently. “You’re an idiot! You’re even worse than I thought!” You were still speaking loudly, letting all that frustration wash out of you, giving place to relief. “You made me go through all this fucking night, kissing you and pretending to be your girlfriend, while you actually like me? You prick!” 
You punched his chest — his stupid, muscular, rock-hard chest. “Ouch!” He whined, but you doubted it actually hurt. 
“I was almost crying because of how hard it was to suppress my own feelings for you,” you told him, pulling on his shirt once again. You wanted to take it off, wanted to kiss him until he was all that you could think about. But you also wanted to dropkick him straight to the deepest circle of hell. “And you like me back? Idiot!” 
“Wait, wait, what?” Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up, a perfect picture of his surprise. “For real?”
“For real.” Your shoulders slumped, the anger that possessed your body left you as quickly as it had arrived. “I’m in love with you too, you smooth-brained asshole. Ever since high school.” 
He blinked, dumbfounded. “I had no idea.” 
“Didn’t I tell you that speaking the truth is always the better option? You never listen.” You tugged on his shirt one more time, for dramatic effect. “Dumbass.” 
“You’re the dumbass. And no, I don’t think I do,” his voice was flat, mind navigating miles away from your place. “___?”
“What?” You barked. 
“How mad are you?” 
You groaned. “Pretty mad, why?”
It was his turn to take a step towards you, the heat that emanated off his body now surrounding you. “Because I’m gonna kiss you right now and I’d greatly appreciate it if you didn’t bite my face off.”
You sighed, relaxing against his torso. Jungkook’s hands came up to rest on your waist, guiding you closer to him. “I’ll try my best,” you told him, “go ahead.” 
Maybe all those foolish love songs and melodramatic romantic poets were onto something, because you swore you saw fireworks when Jungkook finally moved in, crashing his lips on yours. Yes, you had kissed him already that night, but there was no way those two situations could be comparable, not when you felt much lighter now that the secret was out, and that you knew what he felt when he pulled you closer, when he sighed against your mouth and caressed your lower back. 
Long years of friendship granted you the knowledge that Jungkook was tender with some things, rough with others — he was gentle with kids, with his other friends, with you; he was hard around the edges when it came to his matches (being especially fiery around championships), people he didn’t like, and goals he wanted to reach. As he kissed you, you could notice him trying to figure out which approach to take with you: his lips were soft on yours, tongue slowly exploring your mouth, but his hands were harsh, groping your ass as he pushed you up against the nearest wall, a growl vibrating inside his chest. 
Maybe it was a bit evil to push his buttons when you knew he was so dangerously close to snapping, but you weren’t in the right frame of mind — or, rather, you weren’t in any frame of mind at all. So, knowing very well that Jungkook was the most competitive person you knew, you pulled away from the kiss to say, “Come on, why don’t you kiss me like you mean it?” 
Which might have been the dumbest final words you could’ve uttered. 
You were graced with just a couple seconds of hesitation from his part — frustration and desire flashing inside his hooded eyes — before he was crashing his mouth onto yours once again. Jungkook didn’t say anything, because he didn’t need to: the messy, sensual kiss he gave you was more than enough to make you shut up. Just according to the keikaku, of course. 
His hands were in the back of your tights before you could think, pulling you up and pinning you against the wall. You moaned against his lips, a shaky exhale leaving your mouth when he rolled his center against yours — cock hard and heavy inside his pants, brushing against your covered heat. Jungkook did it two, three, four times, slowly grinding against you like he couldn’t hold himself back any further, groaning at the feeling. 
When he pulled away, you were almost seeing entire constellations forming in your vision, your breath labored and mind dizzy with desire. “Fuck,” he cursed, resting his forehead on yours. “Want you so fucking bad.” 
“Want you too,” you told him. “Bedroom?” 
He pulled back so he could look at you better. “Sure?” 
You nodded. “Sure.” Leaning in, you placed a timid kiss on his lips. “Want you to fuck me, Jungkook.” 
After all those years, that was all that he needed to hear. He was quick to pull you away from the wall, hands holding your body up and your legs wrapped around his waist. Jungkook knew your apartment like the back of his hand, but he still kept his eyes open as he walked towards your bedroom, your lips mindlessly attacking his thick neck. You had dreamed about doing that so many times and you could say with confidence that you weren’t disappointed by the shuddering breaths he let out, or the small grunts he gifted you every time you sucked his skin just right. By the time that Jungkook placed you on your bed, crawling over you, you were so wet that it was almost embarrassing. 
He looked at you like he was hypnotized, his hands roaming up your legs, slowly spreading them so he could place himself in between. With the action, your skirt rolled up, exposing your underwear. “Shit, I thought about doing this so many times,” Jungkook murmured, almost as if he was talking to himself. “I can’t believe it’s real.” 
“You’re so sappy.” You giggled, but you couldn’t deny that his low voice was getting to you. You shivered when his palms met the exposed skin of your waist, pausing in the space between your skirt and your sleeveless top. Jungkook was deep in thought, his gaze flickering all over your body. “What is it?” You asked. 
“You look so fucking hot in this.” He pulled on the large piece of clothing, his tongue coming out to lick his lips. “Wanna fuck you with the jacket on. Just the jacket.” 
You almost choked on your saliva — well that was something you weren’t expecting at all. “Seriously?” You raised one eyebrow, teasing him. “You have that much of a hard-on for sports?” 
Jungkook didn’t seem to be in the mood for jokes, though, because he gave you a serious answer. “No, I have that much of a hard-on for you.” He dipped in so he could nestle his face on the curve of your neck, humming as he inhaled your scent. Once again, you were faced with the contrast of his soft lips against your skin, but the rough tug of his hands on your skirt. “Wanna fuck my girl with only my jacket on, what’s so wrong about that?” 
You whimpered when he licked on your sensitive spot, trying to push your legs together, but being stopped by his presence between them. Jungkook successfully pulled your skirt out of you, throwing it somewhere on the floor. “Since when are you this possessive?” You asked. 
He moved back, hands progressing to your tube top and sliding it down. It seemed as if the world had conspired in his favor, because it was just so easy to leave you only with his team clothes on, the elastic material leaving your body quick enough. “I’m not possessive,” he responded, only half there. His brain was trying to understand the vision of you before his eyes, only with your panties and his jacket. Jungkook could feel his cock throbbing inside his pants, begging for relief, and he just knew that sight would plague him forever. “Wanna make sure that you know you’re mine, though. I’ve thought about this for too long.” 
As you fumbled for something to say, he dove back in, his mouth attacking your breasts with no time. Your back arched, fingers tangling in his messy hair as he sucked and licked your nipples, his strong hands squeezing your tits every time you moaned out. It was almost humiliating how reactive you were, with your shallow breaths and broken calls of his name, but Jungkook was fucking loving it, and he just wanted more of it. 
You melted under his touches as he pulled himself closer to you, his mouth tracing its way back to your clavicles, then your neck. Much to your dismay, his hands were still on your breasts, playing with your erect nipples as he finally found that one spot that made you yelp. 
“W-Wait,” you stammered, “my neck is sensitive.”
Jungkook knew that already. In fact, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it ever since you mentioned it back at the party; his cock stiff inside his pants at the memory alone. “I noticed,” he groaned, the vibrations of his voice spreading throughout your skin. One of his hands slithered between your bodies, hastily pulling your underwear to the side so his fingers could plunge between your folds. At the sensation of your arousal, Jungkook growled, pressing his erection against your thigh. “Holy fuck. You’re soaked.”
“I told you,” you said, feeling like your brain was about to melt and drip out of your ears. It was hard to concentrate when he was making out with your neck like that, sucking and biting the skin before liking the same spot he had just attacked. Still, the sudden plunging of his finger inside your pussy caught your attention in an instant. “J-Jungkook, I’m—” 
How shameful was it that you couldn’t even finish a damn sentence? Lust was getting the best of you, pushing your rationalizations aside and filling your lungs with desire. Jungkook soon added a second finger inside you, stretching you wide as he continued to fuck you. It was a fantastic sensation — his hand was much larger than yours, and you were sure you’d be able to cum like that if it kept it up for long enough. 
Jungkook moaned against your neck, pulling his head back so he could take a look at you. His cock throbbed at the sight of your dazed-out face, your parted lips looking so dangerously inviting to him, “Tell me what you want,” he asked, diving in to kiss you. He sucked on your tongue, making you whine as he pulled back. “I’ll give you whatever you want.” 
“Want you,” you said, nails digging into his shoulder blades. 
Jungkook liked the sharp pain that came from it, raising the speed of his fingers just a bit. “I’m right here.”
“No,” you whimpered, blinking back the tears of frustration that covered your irises. God, Jungkook couldn’t even believe you were all his. “Want your cock inside me, please.” 
Listening to you saying that was like experiencing a choir of angels singing directly to him. Jungkook had waited far too long to get you alone like that, so beautiful and pliant beneath him, and there was no way in hell he would deny you your request. 
So he got moving, his hand flying to the back of his shirt, which he tugged off with one swift motion. Your eyes fell to his toned chest, roaming his sweaty skin as he moved onto his belt. “Take those off.” He signaled with his head towards your panties. 
You nodded, sliding your underwear down and throwing it to the side. Even with his jacket still on — which, you admitted, it was both objectively and subjectively hot — you felt extremely exposed, thighs closing just slightly when Jungkook took his pants and boxers off. 
“Keep them open,” he warned, his stare stuck to your glistening folds, and you did. His face was one of sheer lust, tongue coming out to wet his lips as he placed himself back in place. “Wanna see you cum on my fingers,” he breathed, “but I’m too hard. Need to be inside you right now.” 
Your attention flickered downwards, pulled by the small collision of his cock against your clit. You winced at the feeling, but one of his large hands kept you in place as he moved closer to your heat. The constant drumming of your pulse was all that you could hear for a second, heart skipping a beat when you fully noticed his size. 
Would it be weird to say that Jungkook had a pretty dick? Because he did. And a big one too, which made you second guess your own limits for a moment. 
As if he was reading your mind, his cockhead pressed against your pussy, so warm and wet that Jungkook swore he was about to lose his mind — or what was left of it. There was nothing more that he wanted then to nestle himself in your heat, bury himself deep inside you until you were the only thing he could think about. “Shit, look at you,” he murmured, brushing his tip against your entrance. Your figure twitched under him, a soft gasp leaving your mouth at the feeling. “Bet I could slide right in.” 
He was hypnotized by the squelching sounds of your pussy, the way your opening fluttered around his crown as he slowly started to press himself into you. He wanted to do it slowly so he could pay attention to every detail of you, every small exclamation of pleasure that dripped like honey from your lips. 
The world around you two was getting smaller and hotter by the minute, suffocating you and pulling the air out of your lungs. Your eyelashes fluttered as Jungkook’s cock slid inside you, just the tip at first, your back arching as your walls clenched around him, almost as if your body was rejecting his size. “You’re so big,” you whined, burry eyes fighting to focus on his face. 
Jungkook, however, wasn’t looking at you, but at the way his member sank between your folds, diving into your wet heat. “Yeah?” He breathed out, jaw clenching. It was taking everything inside him not to start pounding into you. “I’m sure you can take it, don’t you think?” 
You nodded, and it took a moment for your words to catch up to you. “Y-Yes,” you said. 
Jungkook was more than halfway inside you now, and his mind was more than halfway gone, thrown out of the window and into the gelid nocturnal winds. The way you were wrapping around him should be illegal; you were so perfect that jungkook was sure he could never find a drug that would get him so high. “That’s it, be greedy for me,” he groaned, “take everything.” 
He went as deep as he could, his cock almost brushing against your cervix and your cunt throbbing against him. Maybe he had died and was in paradise, because there was no way he could be feeling so good. 
“Move, please,” you asked meekly. 
Lucky you, he was more than happy to comply. 
Jungkook tilted his hips back, until just his tip was still inside you, only to bottom out again, feeling as your cunt throbbed around him. He did this with unbearable patience at first, allowing your body to get accustomed to his cock splitting you open before he started to pick up the pace. Most of his self control had already burned out, though, at it wasn’t long before he was fucking you fast, rough; groaning at the way your tits jumped every time he shived his length back inside you. 
Once again, he felt like a virgin — you were too much, it seemed. Everything about you got him searching for the stars, wishing for more and moaning out every time your cunt squeezed around him. You were so fucking wet, he thought, so tight and warm, that he wasn’t even thinking about cumming, just about how wished to keep fucking you forever. At the same time, Jungkook was sure that he wouldn’t last long, not when you were looking at him like that, calling his name again and again until it silenced all his thoughts. 
Your breath hitched when his cock brushed against your sensitive spot. “Right there, right there,” you sobbed, nails scratching the skin of his arms. Jungkook caught onto your request straight away, keeping the same angle until you were a babbling mess under him. “Oh m-my god, yeah,” you cried out. “S-So good.”
“Fuck, that’s tight,” Jungkook cursed, his hands digging into your thighs, shoving them up for him so he could reach deeper, fuck you harder. He couldn’t stop moaning, gasping, producing the most beautiful sounds for you. “S-Shit, you’re just pulling my cock in. Your pussy feels amazing.” If given enough time, he could go crazy staring at the way in which his cock disappeared between your folds, only to come back dripping with your arousal, and then slamming back in. “You’re just so fucking hot,” he couldn’t help but say it out loud. “Play with your tits for me.” 
You didn’t have the guts to deny him, your hands palming your tits, squeezing the soft flesh. You whimpered at the feeling, eyes closing in bliss as he continued to fuck you. 
“That’s it, so good for me,” Jungkook praised, hips losing their rhythm for a second. His cock was already throbbing, orgasm threatening to hit him any time now. He needed you to cum first, though. “Your pussy too. Come on.” 
That time, you hesitated a little, a broken sob falling from your lips as you found his gaze. However, you couldn’t deny it — you wanted to be good for him, to get his praises again and again until that was all that you could hear. So you followed his command, two fingers, sinking into your wetness before trailing back to your clit. 
A rush of pleasure ran through your veins, pussy clenching around his cock as your moments grew desperate, needy for more. You were bordering on delirious by that point, your mind unable to focus on one thing, instead jumping between all the stimulation you were getting — your hand squeezing your breast; your fingers rubbing your clit; Jungkook’s cock drilling inside you. “T-Too much,” you cried. 
God, but that’s exactly what he wanted. Jungkook wanted to see that pretty, overwhelmed face of yours, wanted to show you that every minute of waiting had been worth it. “Yeah? But you can take it for me, can’t you?” He moaned under his breath, starting to get lost in his own pleasure. You were getting tighter by the second, which was a dangerous thing. “You can cream my cock if I ask you to, right?”
“Y-yeah,” you stammered. “I’ll do anything f-for you.” 
Jungkook sighed at your words, cock throbbing inside you. “Good girl, just like that,” he husked. “Such a good girl.” 
Tears started to prickle your eyes, and you didn’t know if it was because of how overwhelmed you were, or because your emotions were just now starting to tip over. “J-Jungkook,” you called his name, for a moment not knowing if you would follow it up with something else. His eyes found your own, dazed ones, and his heart skipped a beat at how beautiful and his you looked at that moment. “Love y-you.” 
Years of fantasizing about that confession could’ve never prepared the two of you for such an honest, unexpected moment. Jungkook felt his soul reach levels of happiness which he had never experienced before, mouth only able to say one thing in return. “Love you too.” He pressed his forehead against yours, movements becoming more sloppy, desperate. The new angle was an amazing discovery, his cock hitting that perfect spot inside you, which tore a loud cry from you. “Holy shit,” he moaned. “You’re getting so fucking t-tight around my cock.” 
“Close,” you breathed out, letting go of his previous requests and just taking your hands to his face instead. Jungkook stared at you like he could see the entire universe in your eyes, his hot breaths hitting your face in gentle waves. “K-Kiss me, please.” 
There was no need to repeat yourself. Jungkook crashed his mouth against yours, trapping you in a kiss that felt both like too much and too little at the same. You barely had any time to dive into the caress of his lips on yours before your high washed over you — walls spasming around his length as you dove into bliss; moaning into the kiss and holding to his broad shoulders. 
He broke the kiss right after, a stuttering, failed breath leaving his chest. “L-Love you,” he choked out, “so much.” Jungkook gasped. He was so close, but, at the same time, he didn’t want to let go just yet. It felt too good — having you was too perfect. “Can’t b-believe you’re mine.” 
You smiled at his state, one hand brushing the sweaty hair away from his forehead. “Love you too,” you said back. You could say it again and again, without ever getting tired. After so many years swallowing it down, nothing felt so free. “It’s okay, you can let go.” 
Jungkook nodded, only mildly aware of his own actions. With all the force within him, he pushed himself away from you, pulling out from your heat. Soon, his hand wrapped around his cock, using your arousal to pump himself towards his much-needed release. “Shit,” he choked up, throwing his head back. “Oh, fuck, I’m gonna—” 
Jungkook grunted as he finally reached his high; cock throbbing in his hands. His cum splattered all over your belly, a few white ropes hitting the underside of your tits as well; dripping down to your mound and pelvis as his movements started to slow down. Even then, so fucked-out and overwhelmed, Jungkook looked like a god you’d be more than happy to worship. 
“Fuck,” he heaved, hooded eyes trailing over your form. By some miracle, probably the work of some mysterious sports god, his jacket remained untouched. “That looks so hot.” 
You smiled, taking a glimpse at your body. “And messy.” 
He let out a breathy, tired laugh. “Yeah. Gonna clean you up, just give me a second. I almost blacked out here.” 
Playfully, you kicked the side of his thigh. “You better,” you told him. “And don’t be so melodramatic.” 
“Rude.” He leaned in, placing a kiss on your lips. You still felt like you were dreaming, trapped in an alternate reality. If that was the case, you didn’t want to wake up. “Next time I’ll cum in your mouth so you’ll learn some manners.” 
Next time. Those words fell like a stone inside your stomach. It was pretty much impossible to mask your lovesick gaze now. “Yeah, bold of you to believe it’ll change a thing.” You pushed him off you, signaling towards the bathroom. “Go, be a good boy and go get me a towel.” 
Jungkook rolled his eyes, but did as you said, leaving the bed soon after. “I liked you better when you were pretending to be my fake girlfriend,” he spoke from the corridor. “You were more polite.”
“I was acting,” you said. “This is what you’re gonna get.” 
He laughed, appearing back in the room. “Ah, well, I guess I made my choice years ago.” 
That managed to shut you up real fast, heart hammering against your ribcage as Jungkook started cleaning you up. His movements were tender on your skin, feather-like touches that moved up your abdomen, to your breasts, then back between your legs. During all that, a familiar, comfortable silence fell between you two — one that you had grown used to; so empty and yet so full. 
After he was done, Jungkook discarded the towel, returning to his rightful place next to you. Like it was your second nature, you curled yourself up next to him, head resting on his chest and his arm wrapping around your waist. 
The world was perfect for exactly thirty seconds before he decided to ruin it. “So…” Jungkook started, a mischievous smirk already curling on his lips, “you like like me.” 
You scoffed, propping your chin on his chest and meeting his gaze. Jungkook was too cute and too hot for his own good, and his post-sex state managed to incorporate both elements in a hazardous combination. “Yes. And you like like me back.” You remarked. “Did you seriously have to go through all these steps instead of just, I don’t know, telling me?” 
He threw his head back, eyes closing in sheer desperation. “I didn’t know!” 
“Everyone knew!” You exclaimed back, flabbergasted. You couldn’t believe that all those years of shared distress could’ve been solved with the most basic common sense. “Do you think I watch your games because I like them? I tell you all the time I hate sports! Dumbass!” 
Jungkook flinched when you slapped the top of his head lightly, forging pain. “Ouch! You’re the dumbass. And I thought you were kidding.” He pouted, eyes drifting off towards a corner of the room. You could tell he was thinking, so you gave him his time. “But now that you mention it…”
You rolled your eyes, laying back down. “Yeah, that’s not so hard to—”
“I cannot stand body horror.” 
“What?” You shrieked, sitting up at lightning speed. That managed to be the most unexpected thing Jungkook had told you that night — scratcher that: ever. “You told me you loved watching body horror with me.” 
He shook his head, an expression of disgust on his face as he was reminded of every horror movie he had ever watched. “I almost puke watching it. I just pretend I enjoy it because it makes you happy.” 
For a moment, your mouth hung open, mind working a million miles per hour to make sense of his admission. Thinking back to it, you had noticed how frequently Jungkook went to the bathroom while watching Tusk; about how many times he coughed and turned his head away from the Human Centipede. “Oh my god.” Your shoulders slumped, your voice was a frail little thing, filled by disbelief. You couldn’t call him dumb when you had acted just the same. “We’re both idiots.”
Jungkook laughed as you returned to your previous position, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Yeah, I think that’s the only possible conclusion.”
3K notes · View notes
disappointmentofthefam · 2 months ago
ok so when were yall gonna tell me that pacing around the room while listening to a song and aggressively acting out scenarios with fictional people is a mental illness??????
3K notes · View notes
kpopfanfictrash · 14 days ago
Liars and Fire (M)
Tumblr media
Author: kpopfanfictrash
Pairing: Jungkook / Reader
Rating: 18+
Genre: Ex-Husband!AU / Angst / Smut
Warnings (Smut): oral (female receiving), some nipple play, fingering, delayed/withheld orgasms
Warnings (Other): mentions of miscarriage, mentions of therapy, slight jealousy from jungkook  
Synopsis: It’s been nearly a year since your divorce was finalized. Why, then, do you still find yourself falling into bed with your ex?
Word Count:  3,190
You’re a liar.
For the past month, you’ve been telling your best friend, Irene, that your kickboxing class was moved from Tuesday to Friday. This is your explanation why, for the past month, you haven’t been able to make any of her Friday happy hours.
Kickboxing is a lie, of course: hence you being a liar. You know that if you told Irene the truth, she’d immediately tell you what a bad idea this is.
This, referring to you splayed out, completely naked, atop your ex-husband’s sheets.
Jungkook stands at the foot of his bed, still dressed in his suit from the office. Dark grey fabric with a sky-blue undershirt. You think you bought him that shirt in a pack for one of his birthdays – it’s doubtful he’s gone shopping for clothes since the divorce. Jungkook always hated shopping for himself.
Not looking away, he casually loosens his tie, inked fingers stark against the darker blue silk. Jungkook has always had tattoos, but in the time since you split, he’s nearly covered his upper half. You must admit, it was a pleasant surprise when things started up about a month ago.
“Spread yourself,” Jungkook says, his voice low.
Leaning further back on your elbows, you obey and watch his eyes darken.
He’s cut his hair since the divorce. At first, it was only an undercut – those Instagram posts fed you for weeks, fueling many a wine-soaked rant to your friends about how he’s changed. How he’s become one of those divorced men trying to regain their youth. Despite your insistence you hated it though, you secretly thought he looked stupid hot.
He looks great with the short hair too, but you haven’t said so out loud. Jungkook knows you loved his long hair; you loved tugging it with your fingers while he ate you out. He’s cocky enough without you copping to the fact he still drives you crazy.
“Are you just going to stand there?” you ask, tilting your head. “Or are you going to fuck me?”
Eyes gleaming, Jungkook glances up from your drenched pussy.
“Is that what you want?” he asks, sounding casual.
Too casual – you nearly scowl. This is all part of the game, though. Neither of you feel anything for the other, neither of you want anything from the other – besides sex, of course.
The first time you fell into bed post-divorce was nearly a month ago. Jungkook stopped by to pick up some summer stuff you unearthed from your final boxes. It’s taken you this long to put away all your things; Jungkook always was the neater one between you.
You were midway through a bottle of wine when he arrived and, in an attempt at peace, you offered him a glass. To your surprise, he accepted, and barely fifteen minutes later, you found yourself straddling him on the couch.
Since then, you’ve had sex… shit. Seven times.
You haven’t dared ask Jungkook what you’re doing. Haven’t asked him what he wants from you, why he’s sleeping with you when he could have half the city. He’s newly single, freed from the confines of a relationship he’s been in since he was seventeen – you have no idea why he keeps showing up at your doorstep.
And yet, you keep showing up, too. That’s another thing you haven’t let yourself think too hard about.
“I want you to stop wasting time and make me come,” you say bluntly. “Or is that too hard for you?”
Jungkook lets out a quiet chuckle. “Never been hard for me before.”
Lowering one knee to the bed, he ignores your soft scoff and slides a hand up your leg. Spreading you further, he bends his head. Velvet-soft kisses trail up your thigh, alternating between soft licks and hard bites.
Head tipping backwards, you close your eyes. Jungkook isn’t wrong about that – he does know your body like the back of his hand. He’s the only man you’ve been with who consistently makes you come. He also happens to be both the first and last man you’ve had sex with.
You married Jungkook when you were twenty-two. Practically a child, and yet it made sense at the time. You two had dated since high school, when Jungkook was the hot senior soccer star, and you were a shy, quiet sophomore constantly dragged along to watch her older brother’s games.
Your brother was the one who introduced the two of you. He had the entire team over for an end of summer party – one you accidentally crashed in your hot pink bikini. It hadn’t been your fault, really. Your brother said the team was arriving at two, so you headed out around noon to catch some sun.
What your brother failed to mention was Jungkook was coming early.
Stepping onto the back porch, you shielded your eyes and heard somewhere swear. Whirling sideways, you nearly dropped your book and came face to face with Jungkook.
Later on, you found out your brother did it on purpose. After playing soccer with Jungkook for nearly three years, he decided you two were meant for one another. The reasoning for this being you both read the same ‘nerdy fantasy novels.’ While some girls had to hide their boyfriends from their older brothers, yours was always the biggest supporter of you and Jungkook.
Except for maybe during the pregnancy scare, but that was understandable.
Roughly, Jungkook’s hands encircle your waist to yank you closer. He starts licking up and down your pussy, easing you into it. You’ve been wet since Jungkook walked through the door though, and already you need more. Arching your hips, you try to coax him closer.
“Jungkook,” you groan. “More.”
You feel when his lips curl into a smile. Pushing your folds together, he licks up and back down, eliciting a gasp as his tongue delves between folds. Dropping back to your entrance, his tongue moves in slow circles.
“Shit,” you gasp, arching your back on the bed.
Grasping your thighs and pushing them further apart, Jungkook slips his tongue inside your cunt. Tongue fucking you slowly, he revels in the feel of your pussy clenching.
When you moan his name again, Jungkook sits back. Climbing upwards, he settles between your legs to rut his clothed crotch against you. Flicking your nipple with a thumb, he lowers his head to your other breast and sucks.
You groan, arching beneath him. Jungkook’s hardened cock rubs your clit, and you’re certain you’re making a mess of his suit. He doesn’t seem to mind though, and you don’t ask him why. Surely if he were seeing someone, Jungkook would worry about his appearance.
When your nipples are rock hard, Jungkook reaches down to spread your legs again. Dropping lower, he licks up your pussy, then slowly teases your clit. Sucking briefly, he releases and flicks with his tongue until you’re practically panting.
Circling your entrance with one finger, Jungkook feels how wet you are, then pushes inside. He stops just past the hot ring of muscle, feeling you clenching and knowing how bad you want him. Pulling out, he smirks at the noise you make.
He keeps his fingers maddeningly close to your opening, lightly resting against your outer folds. With his mouth, he resumes teasing until your thighs are shaking. Too soon, you can feel your entire body tighten. Fighting to keep the orgasm at bay, you shift underneath him.
As though sensing your peril, Jungkook lifts his head. There’s something different to his gaze now, something beyond the usual lust.
“How many guys have there been?” he asks suddenly.
Immediately, you freeze.
Jungkook hasn’t asked you that before. Up until now, you’ve simply pretended the past doesn’t exist. There’s been no discussion of your marriage, the divorce or anything since. You’ve simply been two people who happen to have chemistry – that’s all.
“I…” Uncertain, you stare. “What do you mean?”
This doesn’t seem to be the right answer, since Jungkook’s brow lowers. Bending again, he sucks at your clit until you’re trembling, teetering dangerously close to an orgasm – only for him to pull back, ripping a frustrated growl from your throat.
“How many?” he asks again, utterly calm.
You glare at him down your body, although your ire is somewhat diminished by your throbbing pussy.
“Four,” you say through gritted teeth. “I’ve fucked four guys since the divorce. There – are you happy?”
“No,” he says simply, lowering his head again.
You can tell Jungkook’s pissed; you can see it in the tense lines of his back, but he says nothing more. What he has to be mad about, you aren’t sure. It’s been nearly a year since the divorce was final, and you had problems long before then. Nearly as long as you were married.
Most people could have predicted that, what with you getting married so young. Marriage at twenty-two wasn’t the original plan, but when you found out you were pregnant, you both decided to do the right thing.
The ‘right thing.’ Such a concept is laughable but at the time, marriage seemed like a good choice to make. You both were in love and planned on getting married eventually. Having a baby simply sped up the process.
At least, until you miscarried a few weeks after the wedding. Logically, you knew this was probably a good thing. You were fresh out of college and Jungkook worked all the time; the two of you could barely afford rent, let alone a new baby. Despite knowing this, the miscarriage broke you in a way you hadn’t thought possible.
You didn’t know how to explain your heartache to Jungkook. Although he was disappointed, you couldn’t seem to fathom how to move on. Rather than let your sadness spread to him, you carried it all inside. It’s taken nearly a year of therapy for you to understand how you pushed him away, but at this point, it’s moot.
The divorce was finalized three days after your twenty-fifth birthday. Since then, you’ve tried your best to forget him. The four men happened about two months ago, when Irene thought casual sex might be the answer. You’d only ever been with Jungkook, after all. All sleeping with them did was remind you exactly why your husband was the best.
Ex-husband, you remind yourself now.
Grazing your clit with your teeth, said ex-husband pulls you back to the present.
“Jungkook,” you hiss, arching upward.
“How many of them made you moan like this?” he asks, glancing up. There’s fire to his gaze.  “How many did you spread your legs for?”
“Do you really want to know that?”
“Tell me.”
“Fine, then. Three.”
Jungkook growls, spreading your folds and doing that thing with his tongue which leaves you a writhing mess.
“Did they make you come?” he demands.
You hesitate before saying, “One of them did.”
A flicker of something – anger, perhaps – enters Jungkook’s gaze. He starts to tease you again with his tongue, his touch gentle as his finger circles your cunt. You’re so wet, you’re dripping, smeared all over your thighs.
“Idiots,” he murmurs, continuing his careful motions. “Any man lucky enough to be between these sweet should have been competent enough to make you come.”
“I – it’s… it was hard,” you mutter, thrown by the statement.
“What was?”
Jungkook speaks gently, interspersing his words with slow licks to your clit.
“It was hard-for-me-to-come,” you admit in a rush.
His lower hand freezes.
“Oh?” he asks, a bit strained. “Why is that?”
Frustrated, you lock eyes. You hate Jungkook for doing this, for making you say out loud what you’ve tried to keep hidden.
“None of them were you,” you bite back. “There – are you satisfied? You win, Jungkook. No one compares to you, and I didn’t want to come for them.”
Jungkook’s eyes glint, something dark within. He abruptly sits back, yanking off his suit jacket and dropping this on the floor.
“I didn’t win, Y/N,” he says, swiftly undoing his buttons. His shirt joins his jacket, exposing a smooth, muscled torso covered in ink. “How can I win, when I don’t have what I want?”
“And what do you want,” you breathe as he yanks his pants down.
These are kicked aside, along with his socks. Tugging down on his boxer-briefs, Jungkook reveals his cock, proud and erect. Grabbing a condom from the bed stand, he rips this open with his teeth and rolls onto himself.
“You,” he says bluntly, guiding himself to your entrance.
Slipping up and down your cunt, Jungkook gets his dick wet. You watch with dazed eyes, pussy clenched with the need to feel him inside you.
“You have me,” you whisper, unsure how much you mean it.
Jungkook’s gaze flicks to yours. “Not how I want,” he murmurs, and thrusts inside.
You gasp when he fills you, shoved back on the bed. Jungkook lets himself go, not bothering to be gentle, but you don’t want him to be. You want him, hard and fast, and it seems he feels the same. Even the strong, deep thrust of his cock isn’t enough to soothe the ache inside.
Hips slamming to yours, he buries his face in your neck as your arms wrap around him. Jungkook hovers slightly above, his biceps flexing with every thrust. During the year prior to the divorce, he nearly lived at the gym. It drove you crazy to see him gaining muscle, only getting hotter while you felt like a mere shell of yourself.
Now, you can experience him this way, and it’s still not enough. Jungkook is right about that.
“Hey,” he murmurs, his hips hesitating against yours. “It’s okay, Y/N. It’s alright.”
Blinking swiftly, you realize you were about to cry.
Transitioning his weight to one arm, Jungkook’s fingers trace, feather-light over your cheek. With him inside you like this, you can almost imagine this isn’t about sex. That he wants you again, that he wants this again, and isn’t simply confused by lingering emotions.
Before you can stop yourself, you pull his face to yours. Jungkook groans when you kiss him, returning the gesture as he starts to move. Hands tangled in his hair, you gasp when his tongue parts your lips.
It’s been so long since you kissed him. That was another unspoken boundary between you and now, you’ve gone and dashed it to pieces. Lips melding with yours, Jungkook’s hips are relentless. He fucks you hard and fast, giving it just how you like it, just how you need it. All too soon, you find yourself on the edge again.
“Jungkook,” you breathe, in between kisses. “I’m going to – I’m gonna –”
“Come for me, baby,” he pants, the endearment slipping past.
You come with him inside you, clenching hard and hearing him swear in response. He comes soon after, hot spurts filling the condom, making you wish it weren’t between you. Jungkook used to love being messy, loved filling you with his cum and dragging his fingers through it.
When he’s done, you lay there and revel in the feeling of him softening inside you. Jungkook doesn’t pull out, his warm skin pressed to yours. You wish you could enjoy it longer. Wish you could stay in his arms, but Reality’s knock is too loud, shattering your daydreams.
“I should probably go,” you say quietly.
Stiffening slightly, Jungkook nods and pulls out. Sitting back on his heels, he tugs off the condom and throws it in the trash. You allow yourself to stare at him while he works, unsure if this will be the last time you see him.
When he’s finished, Jungkook stands and picks up his clothes. He doesn’t bother retreating behind closed doors to dress – nudity is nothing you haven’t seen before.
Still, you feel suddenly exposed as you curl on the bed. Glancing around for your bra, you find it thrust before you.
“Was on the ground,” Jungkook says simply, lace dangling from his fingertips.
Snatching this up, you nod and pull the straps over your arms. Next are your panties, then the dress and heels you wore into the office. Jungkook says nothing as you change, nor when you retreat to use his bathroom.
When you exit, he’s moved from the bedroom to the kitchen. Seated at the table with two glasses of water, Jungkook nods for you to take one as you enter. Drinking your glass standing up, you try not to make eye contact with him for too long.
He’s removed all your photos, you realize, looking around. This used to be the apartment you shared, way back when. You were the one who moved out because you couldn’t stomach the memories, but it seems Jungkook’s done his best to remedy that.
“They’re in a storage locker.”
You turn in his direction. “What?”
“The pictures.” Steadily, Jungkook meets your gaze. “The fruit bowl you picked out. The funny magnets you got me in college. I rented out a storage locker. Jimin thought it was a good idea… he thought it might help me move on.”
Another moment passes before you nod and look away.
You shouldn’t feel a curdle of disappointment. Shouldn’t be irrationally angry at Jimin for providing the same services as Irene. All your wedding china, your anniversary jewelry, the tiny rattle Jungkook gave when he learned you were pregnant – all of it’s stashed in a locker at Irene’s apartment complex. You did the same thing once the divorce was final.
“Right,” you say, pushing away the memory. “Okay. Well, I guess I should go.”
“I guess so.”
Turning to walk towards the door, you almost expect Jungkook to speak, but he doesn’t. Your heart sinks with every step, cracking along the same lines his presence healed.
Irene would have been right to tell you not to come.
Each time you see Jungkook, your heart partially heals and each time you leave, he breaks it again. The sensible thing to do would be avoid him completely, and yet, you cannot.
When you open the door, Jungkook says your name.
“What?” you ask, glancing over your shoulder.
A memory flashes before you, overlaid with this one. Nearly a year ago, Jungkook came home from yet another work trip to find your bags packed, the divorce papers on the table. He said your name then, sounding broken, and you didn’t look back.
Now though, you do.
Jungkook blinks, and you think you may imagine the emotion within. Or at least, you think this before he speaks.
“This isn’t over,” he blurts, sounding rough. “I gave up before, but I won’t do that again. One day, you’ll look at me and there won’t be sadness in your gaze. I promise, Y/N.”
His words steal the breath from your lungs, the heart from your chest – no, that’s not true at all. He’s always had your heart; he never gave it back.
You have, and always will, belong to him.
“I hope so,” you whisper before walking out the door.
It falls shut behind you, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You might be a liar, but you haven’t been lying with him. Possibly that’s the worst thing of all.
© kpopfanfictrash, 2021. Do not copy or repost without permission.
Author’s Note: I’ve had like, 2K of this in my drafts for the longest time, and just felt the need to finish it off. I’m not sure if I want to write more in this universe, but I hope you enjoy!
update: I answered an ask with the future of the LaF couple here
1K notes · View notes
1kook · 2 months ago
crunchyroll & rail
Tumblr media
the 10th installment of my netflix & chill series !
SUMMARY Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. WARNINGS smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… MISC fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality, RATING m (18+) WC 8.7k
Tumblr media
NOTE (!) the smut in this chapter is relatively short ! I was more concerned with writing this monumental step in their relationship, so sorry to all the lads who come here specifically for the p0rn but today we focus on the l0ve <333 anyway nc 10!!!!! Can u fuckin believe….
Tumblr media
Jungkook mentions it at the dinner table one night. You’re not eating— well, you are not eating; Jungkook has been stocking up on his protein intake like a madman —but finishing up some work you had brought home. Your back aches, your eyes burn. The mere sound of his soft voice has all those feel-good endorphins shooting through your nervous system like a shot of adrenaline. “We should take a trip,” he says, fork clattering against his plate to signify the end of his feast. 
Your fingers tap across your keyboard, eyes flickering between an Excel sheet and the report you’re typing out. It takes you a moment to respond, a delayed, “huh,” that even Jungkook doesn’t find convincing.  
In the background, you’re listening to what has to be one of the worst voiceovers of the original Sailor Moon series in a language you don’t even understand. But you know the series like the back of your hand, know what exactly is happening even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, because you’ve watched it only about a million times. It’s mostly just there for background purposes anyway, some white noise to try and replicate the noisy soundtrack of your office. 
To make matters worse—complicated?—, you had been too lazy to get onto your usual pirating sites and had settled for the five minute, five part, 240p clips of Sailor Moon on YouTube (you know the ones), and Jungkook has to wait until Episode 74: Part ⅖ ends before you grace him with a proper response. “Where do you wanna go, baby?” you ask, giving your eyes a break from the data as you move to scour YouTube for Episode 74: Part 3/5. 
He’s stretching back now, arms wound up above his head. His hair— god, his hair —is an ashy color now, a faded version of its golden ancestor from a few months ago. Soon, he’s planning on going back to brown, claims he’s getting too old to be dying his hair, whatever that means. For now, you watch his inked fingers run through his scalp; he looks delectable. Maybe you’re hungrier than you initially thought. Or at least thirstier. “A cabin,” he suggests, and he offers this little half shrug that would otherwise seem normal had you not been well-versed in the art of Jungkook Body Language. His front teeth nibble at his lip, eyes laser focused on his empty plate. Even now, he still gets nervous asking you out. That thought alone makes your ego soar as high as an airplane. “Just something small.”
Usually, “something small” with Jungkook ends up being something big and, in most cases, something expensive. Which you’re totally not opposed to— you’re at the point in your relationship where you don’t even bother trying to dissuade Jungkook from showering you with gifts. It’s one of his many, many, many, many forms of loving you and, well, he knows you like the back of his hand. He rarely misses. 
Lo and behold, it is a grander affair than a simple cabin. “Well, it’s more like a resort,” he confesses, reaching across the table for your hand. Immediately, his thumb finds itself rubbing over the simple band of your promise ring. “Just wanna do something nice for you. I know you’ve been tired lately,” he adds on, voice a quiet murmur that nearly gets lost under the intensity of the pout that appears whenever he becomes even the slightest bit bashful. 
You smile, the fondness in your heart skyrocketing to impossible heights when he lifts your hand to press those pretty petal lips against your knuckles. “Well, just let me know when,” you tell Jungkook. “So I can request time off from work.” 
Episode 74: Part 3/5 starts playing after an ad, and you’d pause it for the sake of preserving this moment with Jungkook, but it’s hidden under so many tabs on your laptop that you lose it the second you leave the tab. Jungkook’s head tilts to the side, sending his ashy locks cascading beautifully. “You know that show is on Crunchyroll,” Jungkook says, seemingly moving past his bout of shyness now. “And you have the password.” 
“Do I,” you murmur, but he’s lost you once more, your true talent of typing with one hand showing itself as you return to your Excel sheet, the other still firmly squeezed in his grasp. Jungkook releases soon enough anyway, cleans up the table quickly, and disappears off into the kitchen. He sings when he washes the dishes, likes to pretend he’s a terrible singer even though you’ve told him countless times he could easily take X Factor by storm. (And you know exactly what it takes to wow those judges— you spent the entire last month psychotically watching multiple X Factor seasons from multiple different countries, nearly considered joining the damn audition yourself.) The horribly dubbed Sailor Moon is yelling now, shrieking really, and Jungkook calls from the kitchen, “don’t forget to take your contacts out, sweetheart.” 
It’s domestic and it's nerve-wracking. 
You want Jungkook, that much is a fact. Aristotle and Socrates and that other guy could debate the philosophical intricacies of the world, turn this dimension in on itself until it was a scrambled mess of emotion and thought, but the one thing they could never change, could never even question, is your love for your boyfriend. You want Jungkook badly, but more importantly, you want Jungkook forever. 
And you’re sure Jungkook probably, maybe, hopefully feels that way too. But the way you feel is… slightly concerning to say the least. For starters, you’re convinced your love for Jungkook was meant to be, and that’s saying a lot coming from you. You’re not one for cheesy, soulmate tales— that was more Jungkook’s thing —but the more you think about it, the more you become convinced that you and Jungkook were destined to meet. Like the planets aligned one year, the stars conferred, a tectonic plate somewhere in California shifted; whatever it may have been, something happened somewhere that led to the birth of this beautiful romance of yours. 
Lately, being with Jungkook has this inexplicably fiery feeling blossoming in your chest, these waves of emotion that sometimes have you fantasizing about the weirdest of scenarios with him. Like yelling at him for not taking the garbage out on time, or bumping into each other as you make dinner in the kitchen, or buying a new rug together. 
(Most drastically, the other day, you had a dream where you were pregnant and Jungkook was there and there was a house and a dog and an annoyingly friendly neighbor and this god-awful tile in the bathroom.) 
Long story short, you’ve been fantasizing about a forever with Jungkook. The concerning part is the timing; was this too early? You’re nearly halfway through your second year with Jungkook now, and you know most people date for many, many years before the mere thought of union even occurs to them. In another life, maybe you were the same, would have held off until the very last moment. But with Jungkook things just feel right (at least for you), like there wasn’t going to be anyone else after him. And you sincerely hoped there wouldn’t be. 
You slump back into your seat, eyes fluttering shut. Too many thoughts swirl around your mind, and the screech of the Sailor Moon voiceover on screen certainly doesn’t help. How you managed to spiral that far down your thoughts in the span of one 240p, five minute clip of a larger episode amazes even you. To add onto your worries, the clip abruptly ends and Episode 74: Part ⅘ is nowhere in sight, a fact that draws a frustrated moan out of the already sensitive you. 
Luckily, Jungkook eventually returns, standing closely behind you. His presence is enormous, the room suddenly overflowing with a shit ton of those feel-good endorphins all over again, except this time they reach an all-time high when he leans over and quietly shuts your laptop. “Come sleep,” he says softly, and it’s a pleasant mixture of his genuinely caring voice and that horndog purr of his that lures you into bed. And it’s that same voice that croons softly into your ear, fingers nestled between your folds until you’re orgasming yourself into a deep slumber. 
Tumblr media
Much to no one’s surprise, the cabin turns out to be quite the luxurious lodging; two floors of dark oak everywhere you turn, a stunning stone fireplace in the bedroom, and a truly breathtaking view of the resort’s snowy hill (read: front row seats to watch all the snowboarders and skiers wipe out in the snow). Jungkook had splurged quite the pretty penny on it, so you make a point to clap it up for him when he first opens the door to your temporary home for the weekend. 
The main bedroom is beyond words. It’s got an attached balcony (that you doubt you’ll be using in this chilly weather), and a wooden canopy bed that makes you feel like a royal (that you will certainly be using). It’s separated into two areas, the bed space and a tiny entertainment area on the other side of the room. Perhaps the best thing about the room— and the cabin itself —is the huge, smart TV mounted above said stone fireplace and the fact it allows the phone mirroring option in lieu of not having any streaming sites. And as is with every and anything to do with televisions, Jungkook is the most excited of the two of you. “Baby, look,” he beams, pointing excitedly at whatever he’s got mirrored onto the television this time. Knowing him, it’s probably another documentary. 
You had the forethought to finish your work before the trip, spent two days in the office going absolutely ham on this month’s final reports until your department head promptly sent you home to finish the rest there. You had given yourself a fright upon entering the bathroom that night, the state of your under eyes so severe, you feared it was sufficient cause for a national emergency. Similarly, Jungkook had done the same with his work, cooped himself up in his study until he was free from the shackles of capitalism for the weekend. All this to say you’ve missed him these past few days. 
But even though you’re sorely malnourished in the affection department and craving a good kiss or two, you wouldn’t dare interrupt one of Jungkook’s little nerdy, tech-induced fanboy moments. They’re cute, in their own geeky way, providing some insight to a mellower side of your boyfriend who looks on with childlike wonder; Jungkook’s eyes always get so big when he talks about nerdy stuff. You get to work hanging up the silk shirt he packed for tomorrow night’s fancy dinner at the resort, listening to some British narrator’s detailed description of the functionally extinct Northern white rhinos living under 24-hour surveillance in Kenya.  
(Jungkook’s really into nature documentaries again, had spent a few nights sniffling as he watched that one Koko the gorilla film.) 
The original plan was to head to the nearest store and whip up something small to eat at the cabin. But Jungkook is a little tired from the long drive, slumps down into the couch in front of the now lit fireplace like a limbless blob as he tunes into his documentary. His nose is a little red from the outside chill. It’s so cute. He’s so cute. You love him so much, you fear you’ll accidentally squeeze his cheeks to death. It’s a thought that occurs more times than you’d like. 
According to the pamphlet on the nightstand, the resort has its own room-service to order from. Normally you would do that, but not this time; you had gotten into a bit of a squabble with the man at the front desk after he had tried to withhold Jungkook’s reservation for arriving two minutes past your check-in time, called each other all sorts of names before he backed down and gave you your room key. So you’re still a little salty, to say the least. Instead, you settle in for some pizza in front of the huge TV, calling up the nearest place to order some of Jungkook’s and your favorites. 
You plop down beside him, instinctively cuddling closer when he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “So,” you start, flipping through the rest of the resort’s introductory pamphlet. There’s a loud roar on screen. In all honesty, you didn’t even know what Northern white rhinos sounded like until then, and you probably never would have if not for the man beside you. “What are you in the mood for tonight, sweet boy?” 
You’re not sure if it’s the fatigue or the overall relaxed vibes he’d been exuding since the moment you entered the cabin, but Jungkook is weirdly cooperative today. “Whatever you want,” he responds, head on your shoulder. He even places the remote in your hands, gives your enclosed fist a gentle tap as if he’s just handed you the secret to eternal youth. In other words, it’s a rare sight to behold. “This is your trip, pretty girl.” 
You appreciate the sentiment, but feel the need to clear the air, tucking your feet up onto the couch as you snuggle closer. “Our trip,” you clarify, and snatch the remote anyway before he changes his mind. 
Jungkook releases a quiet huff of laughter, head rolling back against the couch cushions to display his thick, juicy neck that definitely doesn’t awaken any vampiric tendencies in you. “We can even watch some anime if you want,” he murmurs, casually throwing an arm around your shoulders in a way that would have made any teenage girl in the early 2000s squeal with excitement. It’s one of those barely there touches, but the way he holds you makes you feel so safe and warm and loved. So loved and in love. “The ones on Crunchyroll, though.”
For the sake of preserving these good vibes (and your ears [and Jungkook’s sanity]), you navigate to the Crunchyroll app on your phone, quickly finding your latest obsession and mirroring it onto the big television before Jungkook can react. “Sailor Moon?” he asks with a tone that implies a feigned interest, mostly out of respect for you; he’s, sadly, still not the big dorky anime fan you had hoped to convert him into. 
“In the name of the moon, I’ll punish you,” you recite dutifully, snatching up the throw blanket on the end of the couch. It’s barely big enough to cover the both of you, has Jungkook’s outstretched legs and your booty subject to the chilly air. Who cares, Jungkook is a furnace anyway. 
He snorts. “Punish me,” he mumbles, as if he doesn’t believe it. His snarky comment wins him a playful pinch against his doughy cheek, not that he particularly defends himself against it anyway, eyes fluttering shut as you tug at the pale skin. 
“Don’t fuck with the moon, Jungkook,” you warn him, snuggling closely against his side as your favorite opening song begins filtering through the speakers of the television before you. It’s infinitely better than the 240p YouTube clips you had subjected yourself to the entire last week, the graphics scarily clear. 
“Right, of course,” Jungkook says, but a hint of amusement seems to curl around the sound anyway. Nevertheless, he lets it go, cuddles into your side as you pour your full focus into watching yet another group of ragtag teenagers with supernatural abilities kick some ass. 
You can tell Jungkook isn’t really into it, and you’re torn between just snuggling him into a well deserved nap or taping his eyelids open so he can become a fan of this show with you. 
The loving, caring, adoring side of you says Jungkook deserves the entire world and more (the more in question preferably being a fluffy blanket and a nap). He worked hard this week, just like you, and on top of that he was the one who planned this entire weekend getaway for the two of you to enjoy. You want him to rest up.
The obnoxiously in love girlfriend-slash-best friend in you says Jungkook is sorely missing out on one of the greatest shows on planet Earth and that naps are for the weak. 
Your jumbled thoughts are interrupted by a loud sound on the television, a yelp from Ms. Sailor Moon herself that has you jolting up in surprise. Jungkook welcomes you deeper into his embrace, chuckles at your little fright. “Scared?” he teases in that low voice that makes you feel like you’re going crazy, really. So crazy and irrational, and the only thing that stops you from bombarding him with an unexpected outpouring of love is that hard and sharp thing that pokes your side when you get too close to him. It’s not Jungkook, sadly, but something in the front pocket of his hoodie instead. 
And for some reason, part of your brain is stuck all of a sudden, rewinding the last two and a half years like a broken cassette tape that had the tape reel hastily stuffed back inside by a toddler. It’s choppy to say the least, and it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook calls your name softly, tenderly. “__,” he murmurs. It’s a little weird; it’s not often he says your name, mostly referring to you with one of the many pet names from that part of his vocabulary that focuses exclusively on terms of endearment. Your heart skips a beat. 
Now, if anyone were to ask, it’s approximately around this time that you begin to spiral. The pink curve of his bottom lip is just too close, the mole on his nose too prominent. Paired with the obnoxious tittering of Usagi on screen, you can feel your thoughts begin to overlap, bumping into each other within the realm of your brain until all that comes out are the messiest of messy thoughts. 
They go like this: 
Most episodes of any anime run for approximately thirty minutes. Take out the commercial breaks, the opening and ending credits, and it becomes something closer to twenty. Twenty minutes per episode, filled with plot and gags and tears and whatever else necessary to make you feel something, anything really. 
“What’s in your pocket?” you ask tentatively. 
In contrast, it takes approximately two seconds for Jungkook’s lips to quirk up— first the right side, always the right side —and his eyes to crinkle. Two seconds for him to smile, a sweet expression that reminds you of Netflix and college and quiet laughter and tattoos and silly YouTube videos and cookies and cell phones and job applications and blond hair; two seconds to make you feel everything all at once. 
“There’s nothing,” he says, but his cheeks are pink, and it’s not from the cold anymore. His smile is so big it makes your own cheeks ache just looking at it. You can’t even hear the television anymore. Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. “It was supposed to be for tomorrow,” he admits, unwrapping his arm from around you. 
It’s a little funny, somehow, because his hands are covered in ink, in tiny doodles and intricate pieces of swirls and words that ooze this aura of strength and toughness. But they tremble when he opens it, as unsteady as a wispy dandelion on a windy day, fumbling with the box. And when you look closely, he’s been biting at the skin along his thumb again, that nervous habit you’ve been trying forever to help him overcome. 
Someone is saying something on screen, something important to the plot. The volume is loud, but not as loud as your heart. Not as loud as Jungkook’s quiet murmur when he speaks again. “Will you marry me?” he asks softly, looks at you with flushed cheeks and big eyes and his heart on his sleeve. 
The answer has always been the same, hasn’t changed since the first time he planted the seed in your mind. Still, it catches in your throat, nearly loses out to a surprised and emotional sob that you barely manage to bite down. You had just been speaking, had just been ready to deliver a whole spiel on the importance of him watching Sailor Moon with you. But when you try now, it’s raspy and dry, as if you haven’t used your voice in years. “I— yes,” you exhale, surprised by the lonely tear that trails down your cheek. You go to wipe it away, but Jungkook beats you with a gentle hand cupping your cheek. 
His smile is wobbly, patches of red blossoming across his face that eventually consume his entire appearance as he leans his forehead against yours. Only then do you realize he’s crying, and you laugh out of reflex. “You’re crying,” you say, and Jungkook snorts. 
“You cried first,” he sniffles, smiling. “You made me cry.” 
He looks like a wreck, but, like, a hot wreck. An engaged, hot wreck who’s eyes flicker back to the TV to remind you to pause your anime, always so considerate. You do, hastily smashing buttons on the remote before remembering it’s controlled by your phone, hands flying back and forth as your nerves actively work to retire themselves after Jungkook’s proposal. “Easy there,” he soothes, eventually catching your hand in his, drawing it up for a kiss against your knuckles. 
The ring fits perfectly, snuggly. Vaguely, a memory drifts through your thoughts of Jungkook and Doyeon on a rampant mission to reorganize your jewelry box a few months ago, but it disappears as quickly as it came. You’re taken by the ring, a simple band with a pretty diamond on top. It’s a good mixture of you and him; flashy yet mild. 
“You love me,” you marvel, a revelation you’ve had the honor of experiencing time and time again with Jungkook. Still, it never fails to render you speechless. He hums. 
“I do,” he says, taking your hand in his. “It’s the easiest thing for me. Like breathing, or existing. I think I was made to love you.” And normally, you’d be the first one to correct him. Jungkook was made for so much more, a fact he’s proven time and time again with his abilities and the sheer size of his heart. He was your golden boy, could do anything he set his mind to. Always amazing you, always making you fall in love all over again. 
But now, with the weight of his words sitting heavy in the air, you find yourself incapable of negating the fact, instead sniffling at the meaning. 
Pleased with your silence, Jungkook places another chaste kiss against your ring. “I love you, __,” he confesses, voice nearly a whisper. Your entire body feels as if it is doused in gasoline, lit aflame over and over again. Your heart threatens your rib cage, pounds away with the strength of a world renowned boxer. Jungkook’s hands curl around your wrists carefully. “I used to think we were like the moon and the sun,” he admits, “that you were my sun and I was your moon. In love but always separated by those thin veils of the sunrise and the sunset.” He pauses, nuzzling sweetly against your palm once more before gently guiding them down between the two of you. “But that really sucks— saying goodbye to you every night? I hate that, __. I hate watching you leave, I hate watching you run off in the mornings or halfway through the day, having to drive back and forth from your place to mine. I hate having to be away from you when all I wanna do is hold you. I— I want to be by your side,” he rambles, eyes nervously meeting yours. They’re still glassy, dark lashes framing his chocolate irises wonderfully. “Forever.” 
Your heartbeat stutters, the simple word looping itself in your mind like that night in his dining room all over again, all the fantasies of having a forever with Jungkook bubbling to the surface. Jungkook pushes on. “You are my sun,” he says softly, mostly to himself. “But… I don’t wanna be the moon anymore. Being the moon means, eventually, I’ll have to say goodbye. In the night or in the morning, it always comes to an end. And I don't want there to be an end with you,” he insists, clutching your hand tightly. “I wanna be another star, the closest one to you. The one who gets to be with you forever. I wanna be by you and shine with you and—“
“Explode into a gazillion little fragments of cosmic dust with me,” you offer, and Jungkook nods along eagerly, too amped up on his speech to bother scolding you for your playful comment. 
“Yes, I want to— to—“ The words catch in his throat. So much emotion from the man you once thought was the dictionary definition of calm and collected. “To—“ 
“Marry me,” you fill in, and Jungkook practically blows a fuse from how emotionally fired up he’s become, exclaiming a resolute, “yes!” that leaves you stupidly grinning back at him. 
His outburst leaves him with flushed cheeks. “I do,” he reiterates in a softer tone, averting his gaze from you as if embarrassed by his cheesy outpouring of emotion. Usually, it’s the other way around; you make all the corny declarations of love and Jungkook laughs along suavely. It feels nice to have the tables turned. 
There’s so much to say, but the words all fade away when Jungkook shyly looks at you again. You settle on tackling him back onto the couch cushions, taking his surprised little yelp in stride as you suffocate him in your embrace. “Save those words for the big day, superstar,” you giggle, peppering his red face with tiny kisses that make him scrunch up cutely. “I can’t wait to blow up into one huge supernova with you.” 
Beneath you, Jungkook groans. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, voice muffled against your shoulder. Begrudgingly, his arms come up to envelope you, pulling you closer until the blanket scrunches up uncomfortably between you two. “That must’ve sounded so lame.” 
Leaning back so you’re not completely squishing him, you carefully push his silvery hair away from his forehead. “Don’t be,” you assure him, placing one chaste peck against his pouty lips. “I thought it was cute. I didn’t know you were into astrology.” 
A sigh. “Astronomy,” he corrects, “astrology has to do with zodiac signs and placements.” 
You run your thumbs over his cheeks, collecting any of the drying tears that paint his face. “Oh, like how you’re a Virgo and I’m a“— 
The TV remote you had lost somewhere along the way is suddenly rematerialized beneath your knee, sends the speakers blaring to life with a deafening screech that has both you and Jungkook leaping up like two frightened cats. “You always do this,” he laughs, that loud boyish sound that makes you feel like you’re sitting on a cloud. He watches you with a gentle smile as you hurriedly shut off the television, the remote haphazardly tossed somewhere behind you afterwards. You return to his embrace, wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into his warmth. His heart thumps a steady rhythm beneath your ear. 
“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever,” you warn him, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like he’ll suddenly disintegrate before your eyes.
Above you, Jungkook hums, placing a kiss against the crown of your head. “I look forward to it,” he responds, pulling you impossibly closer, until you can feel the wrinkles in his shirt imprinting themselves against your cheek. He’s back to being that suave bastard again, and you find yourself wishing you had milked those big crocodile tears out of him for just a little bit longer. 
Fingers gently press against the muscles in your nape, push themselves in deeply until you can feel all the tension seeping out, turning you into a limbless blob over Jungkook. “Jeez,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “And you wanted to wait until tomorrow.”
He huffs out a laugh. “I just thought you’d rather get engaged at a fancy restaurant with a pretty dress,” he defends, and you can hear the grin on his face. “For the photos.”
“Fair point,” you concede, eventually pushing yourself up so you’re not entirely squishing your boyfriend beneath you. Jungkook is already looking at you when you lift your head, has got this funny double-chin from this angle that makes his normally sharp jawline disappear. You find yourself tapping a finger against his chin, on the chocolate chip mole that hides itself beneath his plump bottom lip. “If anything, just propose to me again tomorrow at the restaurant.”
It wins you an eye-roll. “I’m not gonna propose to you again tomorrow,” he laughs, doesn’t even push you away when you become annoying and start tapping your fingers against all his beauty marks like you’re playing Whack-a-Mole. 
“Booo,” you frown, but let it go soon enough, foregoing your little game to press your lips against his. “Then I better make this a night to remember,” you murmur, tilting your head to the side.
Your hands dip into his luscious locks, fingernails tracing thin lines along his scalp that are certain to send tingles down his spine. As predicted, Jungkook releases a quiet groan soon after, a sound that’s muffled against your own lips. He’s pliant tonight, but not in a way that would elude fatigue. Pliant in a way that suggests he wants you to take the reins tonight, exhaling softly against you as he parts his lips. 
“Let me take care of you,” you hum, the hand that had been mindlessly hovering along his cheek drifting down to caress the side of his neck. Jungkook nods, his irises swimming in lust. You smile at his silent compliance, give his throat a light squeeze that makes his breathing hitch in surprise. 
He’s always at his prettiest when he’s beneath you like this, limbs moving in slow motion as you guide him along. You can already feel the beginnings of his arousal stirring beneath the front of his sweats, his cock slowly making its presence known against your thigh. You press your lips against his once more, making sure to make it rougher than the first kiss. Your tongue is met with little resistance, slips past his lips and dips into the hot cave of his mouth where Jungkook releases another trembling breath. 
Two hands come up behind you, trail themselves over your back and down to your ass, where he gives the two globes a tight squeeze. It draws a whimper out of you, one that Jungkook greedily swallows up. His tongue rubs up along yours, the wet muscle daringly pushing back against yours. His rebelliousness is only quelled with another press of your fingertips around his throat.
“Slow down,” you tell him. The first roll of your hips against him is slow, cruel in that you cut the motion short just as Jungkook begins to push back. A bratty huff escapes him, swollen pink lips pushing out into that endearing pout you love so much. It makes you grin, releasing the grip around his throat to carefully brush a stray strand of hair away from his eyes. 
It’s a gesture that works to soften Jungkook as well, the petulant look on his face melting away as you trail your pointer finger along his cheekbone. It’s replaced with a more tender one, dark lashes blinking up at you slowly. “Open,” you command upon reaching his mouth, finger pressing down against his pink lower lip. Jungkook obeys, opening his mouth until you can see his pink tongue and the dark abyss that leads down his throat. Your finger pushes itself in, and Jungkook certainly doesn’t try to resist. His lips suction around the digit fairly quickly, tight enough to keep you there but loose enough for you to slowly draw your finger in and out, each short plunge pressing down against his tongue. 
It’s a rather short affair, one that comes to an end when he accidentally bucks up against you, pressing his hardened member against your core. You retract your finger.  “Can you,” he tries, but his cheeks are stained red and he refuses to meet your gaze. “Just…” 
You intercept him with a chaste peck, maneuvering your legs until your knees are firmly pressed into the couch cushions beneath him, his thin waist trapped in between. When you sit up, you feel drunk on power and the way Jungkook looks up at you certainly doesn’t help. “Can I sit on your face?” 
He chokes. “I— sure, please,” he blurts out. His gaze follows you as you slip off of him, quickly discarding your pants and top on the floor. One pat against his thigh has him hurrying to shimmy out of his clothes, his sweatpants caught around his ankles. 
“You’re excited,” you laugh, stripping him of his bottoms when the frustration takes him over. 
Jungkook scoffs. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, tugging his shirt off with one smooth motion. The ink around his bicep is as dark as ever, contrasts wonderfully against his warm face. “My fiancée is gonna sit on my face.”
The title makes you preen, quickly finding your place on his lap once more. With your clothing out of the way, Jungkook really does become a furnace. Every inch of his body is hot to the touch, soft too. “Fiancée,” you giggle, hands on his chest. They slide down, fingers playfully nudging his brown nipples. Jungkook flinches at the touch. “Gonna sit on my fiancé’s face,” you parrot back, delicately pinching one nipple between your fingers. A moan spills from his lips, his cock pushing against your thigh once more.
It’s the reminder you need, pushing back dutifully against him as you continue to toy with his chest. He’d look pretty with piercings, you find yourself thinking, watching on in fascination at the way his pert nipples stand at attention. Beneath you, Jungkook begins to grow desperate, his hands finding their place on your waist to encourage you to grind down against him once more. 
Jungkook swears up and down that he’s not particularly sensitive about having his nipples touched. But when you’ve got him like this, sinfully laid out before you, you can easily confirm that his claims are nothing but lies. He loves having his nipples touched, squirms beneath you impatiently with each playful tug and twist you bestow upon them. 
You duck down, pressing a kiss against his pectoral, just beside his nipple, and Jungkook’s entire body shivers. A few careful drags of your tongue against his warm skin only serve to string him along further, the prettiest whimper pulling itself from his lips when you finally envelope one of them in your mouth. “Wait,” he gasps, clawing at your clothing as if he both wants to push you off and push you closer. You grin, brandishing one mean nip at the sensitive nub. 
Eventually, your incessant need to play with Jungkook’s chest is fulfilled. “Lay back,” you instruct, watching as he shuffles down flat on the cushions, silver hair tumbling away from his eyes. He’s so red, eyes hazy. Your panties are discarded, joining the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor. 
Once upon a time, the idea of sitting on Jungkook’s face had terrified you, filled you with nightmares of crushing his windpipe or breaking his nose. For the most part, they’re pretty unrealistic fears, ones that can be easily shut down after one careful Google search on safe sexual practices. These days, it’s all too easy; in the mornings, especially, it’s become natural for him to guide you on top carefully, holding your hand as you whimper and sob over his face. 
In the current moment, you find yourself stroking a hand down the side of his face, completely enamored with the huge puppy eyes he levels your way. Jungkook likes having your pussy in his face just as much as you do, loves making you feel good in any way he knows how. But there’s a separate matter at hand, one that stands at attention beneath his black boxers and successfully wins your attention. 
Truthfully, there is no dilemma to ponder over; you want both to ride Jungkook’s face and suck him off. The solution?
“We’ve never done this before,” Jungkook mumbles in amazement, his voice slightly muffled from his position beneath you and slightly behind you. Still, his arms dutifully wrap around your thighs, guiding you closer to his mouth where his hot breath fans against your glistening folds. You rock back willingly, hands preoccupied with pushing his boxers down and away from his engorged cock. 
“Really?” you ask, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the cock before you and the tongue that gently laps at your folds. Jungkook makes a sound, something between a hum and whimper, his mouth slowly getting to work against your folds. “M- Maybe,” you stutter, all thought processes coming to a halt as you carefully take him in your hand. 
His cock is hard and long, his tip an angry shade that weeps with precum. From this angle, you get to watch Jungkook’s huge thighs twitch at the sensation, the tattoo that marks up one of them doing little to hide the fact. Your hand squeezes him, watches in awe as another fat droplet oozes out of his tip. A moan tears itself from his throat, and it’s so goddamn sexy it nearly drives you insane. 
It’s one particularly long lap of his tongue over your clit that sends you into action, back arching at the tingles that shoot down your spine. Wasting no more time, you guide Jungkook’s cock into your mouth, let your own tongue shower his mushroom tip in kitten licks that have him bucking upwards. He releases your clit with a lewd pop, hot breath fanning across your lips. “Fuck,” he gasps, voice harsh. 
Admittedly, it’s more difficult than you thought it would be. 
You’re not one to be easily overwhelmed (says you), but with Jungkook’s twitching cock in your mouth and his teasing tongue dipping into your entrance, it becomes hard to juggle your attention between the two. Even Jungkook, who is quite frankly the master of cunnilingus, seems torn between the two, his breathing shallow and quick against your folds. 
With each slow descent around his cock, he shudders, thigh muscles tightening in anticipation. It causes a lull in the pace of his tongue, the generous kisses and licks against your folds subject to a somewhat uneven pace that, surprisingly, leaves you more on edge than you’d ever expected it to; right when you think he’s about to suck your clit into his mouth, you’re met with a harsh exhale instead, one that makes your lips flutter. 
You’re both disappointed in yourselves for never having tried this mind-blowing position before, and equal parts understanding as to why you haven’t tried this position before— it’s a lot. His cock is halfway down your throat when it twitches, sends a gush of precum into your mouth that has your eyes rolling backwards, a whine slipping out around him. Jungkook appreciates the vibrations, letting it fuel him as he plunges his tongue into your hole. It’s a two way street, you realize, one that is constantly experiencing traffic. 
“Baby,” you gasp, pulling off of his cock with a slick sound, hypnotized by the trail of saliva that connects your lips to his tip. Jungkook’s tongue prods along your slit, makes your eyesight go blurry when the tip of his nose brushes along you as well. The idea of his cute nose buried deep someplace it shouldn’t be has you grinding down on him. “We can— we should stop,” you stutter, your trembling hand reaching forward to grasp the base of his cock. 
He’s slick with your saliva and his precum, and your hand makes a squelching sound upon contact. It must feel good, because Jungkook moans against your folds, his thighs unconsciously falling farther apart as you slowly jerk him off. You think you might’ve heard your name slip from his lips, but your mind is fuzzy, lost in your lust as Jungkook licks a sinful line from your hole to your clit, curling his tongue at the end. “J- Jungkook,” you cry, flinching away because it’s become too much, your toes curling as the beginnings of an orgasm threaten you. 
Before that can happen, he relents, leaning back with a heavy exhale, his hands loosening their grip against your ass and plopping back down against the cushions. “Fuck,” he pants, his cock twitching in your hold. A lonely droplet of precum trails down the side, your knuckles coated in the glossy substance. Beneath you, Jungkook rubs one soothing palm against your hip. 
You slink off before he can get any funny ideas, maneuver yourself around until you’re kneeling between his parted thighs, his fat cock standing at attention between the two of you. From here, he looks ravenous, and you begin to question who exactly is taking care of who. Jungkook looks like he’s a second away from pinning you down and swallowing you whole, a thought that makes your toes curl. 
It’s with a cautiously horny hand that you reach for his cock again, holding him with both hands. Jungkook growls, head lolling backwards until all you can see is his neck and his chin, thick veins protruding along his skin. Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment longer. “C’mere,” he purrs, hauling you up until you’re clumsily leaning over him, palms framing his face. A lone finger runs down your spine, its faint touch making you arch forward. “Sorry,” he says, securing an arm around your waist. “I know you wanted to take care of me, but…”
You roll your eyes, submitting yourself to his clutches as he masterfully rolls the two of you over. The couch is soft beneath your back, and Jungkook looks pretty from above too. “You just can’t sit still, can you?” you murmur playfully. 
Jungkook’s forearms find their place beneath your thighs, the fold of the back of your knee perfectly slotted against his warm skin as he shuffles closer. “Maybe another time,” he laughs along sheepishly, his hard cock gliding over your slit, teasing your clit. You gulp, eyes scanning over his lean build as if it’s the first time. “Sorry,” he repeats, but he’s got this stupidly dopey grin on his face as he glances down at your pussy; he’s insane, he’s got to be, what man makes heart eyes at a pussy?
Your man, apparently. Grasping the base of his cock, Jungkook takes care to drag it along your folds collecting your wetness along his length, a deep shudder wracking his body through it all. “I knew you would do this to me,” he mutters, so low you nearly miss it under the thundering sound of your heartbeat.
“Huh,” you mumble, and you’d like to defend yourself and say you weren’t as cock-crazy as Jungkook was coochie-crazy, but that would be a lie. You’re staring at his cock as if it holds the secrets to the universe right now.
Jungkook juts his head to the side, a motion similar to the one he does when he’s trying to crack his neck. His tongue prods along his cheek, eyes laser-focused on the point where your two bodies meet. “From the moment you walked into my house,” he grunts mindlessly, finally lining himself up with your entrance. He chances a glance up, meets your gaze with a patient look, “all good?”
“All good,” you hurriedly reply, fingers finding their place against his broad shoulders. With the way he had prepared you earlier, mouthed along your clit and your folds until you were pleasantly aroused, the glide now is too easy. Tight, but easy, has the two of you releasing twin moans that echo off the wooden walls of the cabin. 
Jungkook’s forehead is covered in a thin veil of sweat, one that glistens when the evening sunset pours in through the balcony doors, highlighting him in a golden light that makes you dizzy. The angry tip of his cock sinks into your walls, Jungkook’s ashy strands sticking to his forehead and his cheeks. For some reason, you find yourself reminiscing on the aforementioned moment Jungkook had spoken of. Of the soft sweater he’d worn that day and the dinner he had made, the blond tips on his chestnut hair and the way he’d clung onto every word you’d said. 
It makes you tear up, and, after laughing at Jungkook early for crying, you quickly turn your face away. 
Jungkook isn’t dumb. “What now,” he chuckles, though his breathing is labored, every inch of his cock that penetrates you further bringing with it another rush of adrenaline. At the hilt, you’re embarrassed to say there’s multiple tears streaming down your face, so you can’t even play it off as you usually do. “Crybaby,” Jungkook teases, but his voice is so soft and tender you don’t know what to do with yourself. 
“Just move,” you bite out, shamefully covering your face with your hands. Jungkook leans over you, the movement pushing his dick deeper inside of you, your walls clenching around him. A kiss is placed over your knuckles, just shy of your engagement ring. Your chest lurches with a silent sob. “Jungkook,” you whimper, sinking further into the cushion, “please, just—“
“I got it,” he assures you, placing one final peck against your handmade (literally) shield. And then, so quietly you almost miss it, he makes sure to whisper, “love you,” before unsheathing himself. 
You shudder, your heart feeling so full, you fear it’ll burst. You both love and hate when he treats you like this, like an ice sculpture in the scorching heat that has him doing everything he can to keep you solid. His touch is soft, the roll of his hips too slow for your liking. You feel so small and vulnerable— too pampered. “Harder,” you beg, your voice an airy whine that has Jungkook chuckling above you. 
He lives to please you, hiking your leg over his shoulder with a renewed vigor. His hands find themselves on your waist, forcefully pinning you down against the couch cushions as he sets upon fulfilling your latest request. The next series of thrusts are jerky, have you jostling in his grip as Jungkook pounds into you with an all new mindset. “Lemme see you,” he huffs, thumbs painfully digging into your skin. You tremble in his arms, heart swayed by the quiet plea in his voice. “Let me see your face, pretty girl.”
Reluctantly, you do, brandishing your tear-stricken face his way. Jungkook smiles, that stupidly handsome smile, his hips snapping into you roughly. “Fuck,” he moans, the expression never leaving his face, even when run your nails over his chest harshly. “You’re so pretty.”
You ignore him for the sake of your already weakened mental state, focusing instead on the brutal force of his hips, the way his cock stretches your walls out. Each push has you seeing stars, thighs quivering from the sensations that shoot up your spine and down your toes. “Oh,” you mewl, hands gripping his biceps as you lose yourself to him. Your eyes roll back, vision a mess of colors and nothingness all at once. 
“Is this hard enough?” Jungkook husks out, and he sounds so close. His proximity is confirmed when his mouth slots against yours, his harsh breath mingling with your own as he continues to frantically buck into your inviting heat, each new round of thrusts leaving you weaker and weaker than before. “God,” Jungkook cries, the sound nearly lost beneath your own moans and whimpers. “Gonna k- keep you forever,” he spits, tongue slipping into your mouth.
He’s messier than usual, moves with unrefined movements unlike his normal self. You don’t care, you love him all the same. His sloppy kisses turn into desperate ones, matching the pace of his hips. “Kook,” you sob, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, pulling him close until his thrusts are reduced to a shallower depth. 
“I’ve got you,” he croons, lips against your jawline. His cock presses in and you swear you feel it alongside every inch of your walls, a warmth blossoming in your stomach. He’s layering messy kisses down your face now, lips sucking dark marks any chance he gets. 
True to his word, Jungkook indeed has you. His cock pistons in and out at an astonishing pace, each surge into your folds making you dizzy over and over again. It’s a feeling you fear you’ll never grow tired of, in fact, it’s a feeling you fear you’ll begin to crave even more in the future. The good thing is, that future will extend into forever. 
You yank him towards you, swallow his low laughter with your lips. Jungkook doesn’t complain, lowering himself until he’s practically squishing you beneath his beefy body, cock ramming in and out despite all that. His tongue glides along yours, makes it his mission to muffle each of your cries. 
It doesn’t take long for you to be fulfilled. Given the fact you had sucked him off like a lollipop whilst having him eat you out, you’re not entirely surprised. That and the emotions of tonight have you melting into him sooner than you’d like, his name falling from your lips as your thighs clamp down around his waist. Jungkook takes it in stride, slows the maddening pace of his hips to cradle you in his arms. You’re like jelly, practically flop back into the cushion when he slips an arm beneath you. “You’re so good for me,” Jungkook praises, lavishing your throat in tiny pecks as his orgasm circles around. “My pretty girl.”
“Love you,” you sigh, and your body feels numb, his intrusion but a small touch now that he’s tired you out once more, your walls tender and raw. Jungkook presses a smile against your throat and, moments later, releases inside of you. 
Even minutes after the deed, the feeling refuses to return to your legs. He didn’t go that hard— well, you’re not entirely sure. The memories always become blurry toward the end of your escapades. Everything rushes back in waves, and for some reason, your first thought is, “where’s Sailor Moon?”
Your post-rump conversations have never been the most coherent, usually filled with pretty weird thoughts and ideas. Still, more grand things have happened tonight for you to be worried about a magical anime girl. Jungkook draws himself out of your core with a huff of laughter. “On the TV,” he answers, unfazed by the oddity of your question. 
That’s how you know he’s a keeper.
Tumblr media
It takes a while, but eventually Jungkook responds. “Avocado toast,” he says, though his answer is dripping with uncertainty. He’s naked as the day he was born, snuggled up beside you in bed. He’s propped up on one arm, looking down at you over the ample swell of his manly bosom. It takes everything in you to keep your hands off his chest. 
“Correct,” you respond, “and what movie did we watch?”
Without missing a beat, “Transformers, the first one.”
You nod, glancing at the ceiling as you rack your brain for any other trivia questions to ask your fiancé. “The title of the playlist you made?”
A flush paints his cheeks. “Date Night playlist,” he answers through a pout, reprimanding you for bringing up such a memory with a flick to your forehead. You wince. “I was young and silly,” he defends.
You beam, cuddling into his side until he’s forced to lay back down. “Yeah, yeah,” you tease. “We’re only gonna get older from here,” you lament. You’d say it’s difficult to picture him with a gray head of hair, but his current silvery locks don’t leave much room for your imagination.
Jungkook pulls you close. A beat of silence passes, and then, “so who are we telling first?”
Definitely Namjoon.
Tumblr media
Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.
2K notes · View notes
noteguk · 2 months ago
bad habit | jjk | m
[ ! ] this is part of the bad influence collection. This part cannot be read as a stand-alone. 
— summary; in which your little secret starts to get out of hand. 
— contents and warnings; smut, sprinkles of fluff and angst, mutual pining, the endless adventures of badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, enemies with benefits/enemies to lovers, smoking, mentions of alcohol, mention of vomit, jk and Jisoo are mortal enemies, Taehyung gets his eureka moment, and for the smut warnings: dirty talk, spit kink, dom!jk x sub!reader, breast play, rough sex, mild possessiveness, grinding, so much kissing, oral (fem receiving), cum eating, spanking, manhandling, bondage (using a belt… anyways so-), unprotected sex (don’t be dumb!!! this is fiction), very vague corruption kink, creampie, cockwarming (no one is surprised), praise, degradation makes a comeback (+ use of the word “slut”), the long awaited return of jk being mean, orgasm control/denial, oc kinda cries out of frustration but she’s having a good time, they are in love but are too dumb to realize 
— words; 16,7k
— author’s notes; did y’all think you’d get rid of mean jk like that? Ha! Think again. As promised, this specific chunk of the story ended up being very relevant for the following parts, so this is why I decided to post this first. Probably all big parts will be in chronological order from now on, with only the drabbles going back and forth in time. Also, this one focuses a lot on a few side characters as well, so allow me to dump a lot of lore into this series at once lmao. This happens mid-semester, after bad reputation/bad attitude. 
Tumblr media
Jungkook hated your friends sometimes.
Now, he tried not to be a complete douchebag about it: you obviously cared about them a lot, and they made you happy. Jungkook liked when you were happy; he wasn’t planning on dragging you away from them or anything insane like that. No: the fact that he hated your friends was more of a reaction than an action, most likely catalyzed by the fact that your friends really fucking hated him too. 
It didn’t use to bother him so much, but, as things between the two of you continued to progress at a dangerous pace, he saw the shadows of your friends expanding behind you more and more. You, bless your heart, still cared too much about what some of them thought and, as much as you had grown quite fond of Jungkook, their venomous comments still held you back. It seemed as if everyone around you already had a clear-cut plan of who should or shouldn’t enter your life and, well, old habits are tough to break. He understood one or two things about that. 
It was a chilly night in an overcrowded party when Jungkook’s cigarette break was utterly ruined by your best friend, Jisoo, stumbling out into the backyard. He could only follow, with an expression of disgust plastered all over his face, as she fell to her knees and decided to ruin Hoseok’s pristine grass with the remnants of her dinner.  
Still, he couldn’t care too much about her well-being when she almost fell facedown in a puddle of her own puke, because the fact that Jisoo, Miss Perfection Herself, was there (in a party, of all places) only meant one thing: you probably were too. And it also meant that she and her poor reflux control had just ruined his chances at being with you for the night. 
And, sure enough, you quickly showed up on the doorway, sighing as you saw her catastrophic state. “Oh god, Jisoo,” you called out, graciously stepping into his field of vision, “not again.” 
Hoseok’s house was near campus, courtesy of having two renowned college professors as parents, and his parties were well-known amongst students. Jungkook was somewhat close to Hoseok, especially considering that the boy helped him cheat a few too many times, and had grown dangerously familiar with the parties that he used to throw every time his parents went on a trip. It was almost a semestral occasion, considering that his parents seemed to be complete addicts to the scientific congresses in their fields, and didn’t miss a single one. 
Those parties were often tricky situations for everyone involved, because there were the people who just wanted to have a good time, and there were the ones who took it upon themselves to get revenge on the fact that his parents might have fucked them over during their classes. Jungkook started attending them because Hoseok needed someone else to help him take care of the place and, since he considered Jungkook to be someone that looked “scary enough”, he became his makeshift security for the night. In turn, of course, of catching a glimpse at the future test of his choosing. It was a good enough balance. 
Point was: Jungkook had witnessed a lot coming from those parties. And, still, seeing you must’ve been the strangest thing of all. 
Not because you didn’t look good — in fact, his heart almost jumped out of his chest the second that you appeared into frame — but because that entire context was just so… unlike you. He had seen you frequent bars in the past (well, only once, but it was something), and you had briefly mentioned that you had been invited to a frat party once, but you said that you didn’t go. Apparently, you didn’t like the environment, which he thought was fair: it was you. He didn’t think the day would come that he’d see you in a place like that. 
But, well, it was you. Even if he was sure that you were thrown into that dress as a happy accident and that something grave must’ve happened to drag you to that place, you were right there, in arm’s reach, and yet so far away. Jungkook had the momentaneous pleasure of seeing you simply existing outside of his own bubble, of witnessing your worried expression and hear your soft words as you tried to help your friend. Just like that, he was sure it would be a strange night.
He had his back against the asperous wall, standing a few steps away from the door that led to the backyard. Most people didn’t notice him there as they walked out, directly at their blind spot, and you didn’t seem to be any different. Jungkook wanted to reach out, though, to insert himself into that nightmare you were living through, try to make that sad face of yours better. But Jisoo was also right there, ready to snap at him — drunk or not. 
Frankly, Jungkook only kind of hated your friends, but it was a better crutch to think that than to actually face his obstacles head-first. 
Truth was: he was starting to have issues when it came to approaching you. Things were slightly different now, shifted and off-balance, and Jungkook couldn’t tell which rhythm to follow. It was much easier when the two of you would just bicker at each other and then move away, allowing for those ephemeral encounters to dissipate from your minds until, at last, you’d cross paths again. Now that was mostly gone, instead replaced by a layer of intimacy that hadn’t been there before — rather, that he had never been faced with before.
It was difficult to think when he was around you, mostly because he’d get lost in you — and, when he tried to pull away, he’d fall back into his own cyclical thoughts. 
And it was that exact situation that he found himself in. As he watched your delicate fingers brushing Jisoo’s hair away from her face, Jungkook noticed himself fumble around for the right thing to say, but there was nothing. So, completely out of options, but still wanting to talk to you, he limited himself to one dumb question at a time. “Is it her first time drinking or something?” 
You furrowed your brows, turning around. An expression that he could not classify— relief? Preoccupation? — crossed your face as you recognized him. “Something like that,” was all that you said before you turned back to your friend. “Jisoo, honey, are you okay? Yongsun is already calling you an Uber, alright?”
Jungkook scoffed — honey? That girl was anything but sweet. She was probably the enraged bear that destroyed the hive. “Damn.” He chuckled, taking his cigarette to his mouth. You followed as the faint cloud of smoke curled out of his nostrils like tentacles, vanishing into the cool atmosphere. “Did she fail a test or something? Why is she like that?”
The glare you gave him was so cold that Jungkook was ready to backtrack when you spoke up again. “None of your business, Jungkook,” you said, just as emotionless. He was somewhat used to you treating him like a stranger around other people, but you were never rude to him. “If you could stop talking now, I’d greatly appreciate it.” 
“I’m just asking,” he murmured, his voice muted by the disgusting sound of Jisoo returning her food to the land. Jungkook turned his face away so he wouldn’t have to look at that mess anymore. “No need to get all pissy.” 
You scoffed. “I’m not pissy,” you told him. Jungkook wanted to laugh because you were for sure angry, but he didn’t want to make the situation worse. Lucky for him, your attention was dragged elsewhere as your other friend — the roommate, if he recalled correctly — stepped into view. “You were right about it. She puked again.” 
Yongsun looked and sounded like she had just been dragged out of a hurricane — during moments like those, she really went complete mom-mode. “The Uber is here. I asked him to wait a bit,” she told you as she approached the two of you, watching as you struggled to get Jisoo back on her feet. It seemed as if she wasn’t even trying to keep her body stable at that point. “Also got a plastic bag from the kitchen in case she needs to… you know.”
“Yeah.” You signaled towards your drunk friend with a short movement of your head. “Help me out here, please.” 
Yongsun agreed, going on the other side and wrapping one hand around Jisoo’s waist. Jungkook was starting to feel a bit bad now — not because of them, but because you seriously looked like you needed a break from all that. 
And that was the sole reason why he decided to insert himself in that situation one more time. “Need some help?” He asked nonchalantly, a thick cloud of smoke leaving his lips. 
Yongsun’s eyes snapped in his direction, apparently noticing Jungkook for the first time. She glared at him for a second before saying, “No. We’re good,” and looking away. 
He found your gaze, waiting to see if you were going to say anything. You simply shook your head and broke eye contact, shattering something inside his soul. 
Yongsun sighed in relief when the two of you finally managed to place Jisoo on her feet. “That’s it, Jisoo. Take it slow.” You two gave an experimental step towards the house, which she thankfully followed. Apparently, the hardest part was to get her up, because the rest was completely based on inertia. If she was moving, she’d keep on moving. “Let’s go to the car, okay? So we can get home.” 
And it wasn't a surprise that Jisoo’s first words ever since she started to feel sick were, “God, this is so embarrassing,” she whined, pulling down her skirt. It hadn’t moved up, but you guessed she probably felt exposed in more ways than one. “I don’t wanna go through the party.” 
“There’s no way around the house. Only through it,” Yongsun spoke softly, as if she was scared of saying the wrong things. You could understand her reluctance, Jisoo was extremely hard to deal with when she was in that headspace. “Come on, baby, it’s not that bad.” 
She paused her uneasy steps. “I don’t wanna be seen like this.” 
Maybe an angel had its hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, maybe he was seriously feeling bad about what you were having to deal with, but he decided to be the bigger person and help your friends. “You should go through the kitchen,” Jungkook interjected. Both you and Yongsun looked at him in confusion — hers was probably more genuine than yours. “There’s another way to the front door and practically no one is there by this point of the party. Everyone’s either upstairs or in the living room.” 
You nodded, alleviation washing over your face. “Okay, sounds good,” you breathed out, looking at Jisoo to get her permission. “We can do that, right?” 
Jisso agreed with a nod, and you three finally managed to get her inside the house after a few extra missed steps. As you did, Youngsun looked at Jungkook and uttered a simple, “Thanks, by the way.” 
He nodded, not making eye contact. “No problem.” 
You could never quite tell what Yongsun thought about Jungkook, and you weren’t planning on asking her anytime soon. You knew that she wasn’t especially fond of him — or the smoking, really, since she ranted about that almost weekly — but she wasn’t even close to the level of disapproval that you encountered when you talked to Jisoo. If you had to guess, you’d say that Yongsun probably feared him a little, taken aback by the brooding stares and sarcastic remarks he always had ready to share. 
Also, there were the rumors about him. You had heard a few already, but, the more you came to know Jungkook, the less you believed them. From where you stood, privileged enough to see both sides of the situation, it looked like the classic case of things being blown out of proportion as they circulated. Jungkook spray painting somewhere on campus? More likely than you think. Jungkook being an arsonist? Absolutely not. 
It was strange how simultaneously everyone and no one knew him. Jungkook had gathered a bit of fame for himself — or infamy, depending on your perspective — and you weren’t ignorant as to why. He seemed and acted cool, he looked as smoking hot as they come, and he glared at people like he was ready to break hearts (or faces) left and right. The overall male-attracted population of campus came flocking around him in no time. 
Rather, people knew of Jungkook. They just didn’t know him. And you were slowly finding out who he was beneath all that. 
The sound of Yongsun’s shoe sliding against the wet concrete caught your attention and you braced yourself for a catastrophe that, thankfully, never arrived. She managed to regain her balance, cursing under her breath as you two gave your final steps towards the parked car. 
“Come on, sweetie, let’s go to your place. Just a bit more.” Yongsun was far more delicate than you when it came to situations like that. You often didn’t know how to deal with people when they were shitfaced (or with yourself, frankly). Lack of practice. “You have your apartment keys, right?” 
Jisoo nodded, but she still looked out of it. Half because of the booze, the other half because of shame. 
“You sure you don’t wanna take her to our place?” You asked Yongsun, opening the car door. The driver gave a quick glimpse at Jisoo and widened his eyes, probably praying to all the gods above that she wouldn’t ruin his precious leather seats. “I can help too.” 
“No, it’s fine. She’ll be more comfortable at home anyways.” Yongsun struggled to place the girl on the backseat, with Jisoo’s nails digging to her forearm in a terrible attempt at grounding herself. “Besides — fuck, girl, relax — besides the fact that she’s gonna kick me out the second that she sobers out. It’s better if she’s already in her own place when she tries to do that.” 
“Fair,” you commented, unsure of what to do with your hands — or with yourself in general. “Sure you don’t want me to go?” 
“Yeah, it’s better if it’s just me. I’m pretty used to it.” After finally managing to buckle Jisoo up, Yongsun shut the door, already moving towards the other side of the vehicle. “See you tomorrow, alright? Text me when you get home.” 
You nodded, and your friend got in the car. “You too.” Swiftly, you lowered your upper body so you could lean on the window, looking at the two of them. “Jisoo, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Take a shower and go to sleep, alright?” 
“___, wait.” She grabbed your hand and pulled you in, almost making you hit your forehead against the roof of the car. You decided to give it a pass, since she was clearly out of it. “Did someone see me like this?” Her words were slurried together and you needed a few seconds to pull those syllables apart. When it all clicked, her terrified gaze was all that you could focus on. “Please tell me that no one saw me. This is a nightmare.”
You sighed, removing your hand from her own. It was better to lie in a situation like that. “Just Yongsun and I, it’s fine. No one saw you,” you told her. Jisoo simply nodded, face melting with relief. You leaned back, taking a step away from the car. “Be safe, okay? You two.” 
As the vehicle sped away, you still caught a few fragments of Yongsun’s speech as she tried to convince the driver that she had a plastic bag, so it was all under control. It was such an odd situation to be placed in, you realized, such an unreal moment that developed from your best friend being completely unable to deal with any sort of societal disapproval. It almost felt like a joke. 
Jisso was kind of a strange character, you thought. There was something inside her that ached to be accepted — to be the very best at everything, to have the biggest amount of friends, to be liked by everyone. You were used to it and, frankly, you could see a lot of that toxic trait in yourself as well. You just didn’t know it could get to that level, in which she’d drink beyond the point of reasoning just to blend in. 
It wasn’t exactly a surprise when Jisoo asked you to go to a party with her, but it was a bad sign. Jisoo had only gone to a handful of parties in her life (still more than you, if you had to guess) and, every single one, it was because of peer pressure. Because of a guy that she liked that was going; because a friend at the time manipulated her into keeping her company; because everyone else was, so she had to go too, so she wouldn’t be let out. As much as you accepted the fact that you spent a good chunk of your life seeking approval, it didn’t get close to what Jisoo went through. It was a much more distorted, intense mirror of yourself, one that didn’t allow her much self reflection. 
Jisoo hated Jungkook for a lot of different reasons, some more personal than others, but they were all covered by a thick layer of disgust for the fact that he, unlike her, didn’t care about anything — and he still ended up in the same place as her. Jisoo spent her entire high school studying like a madwoman, only to be in the same college as someone who took the “high” in “high school” way too personally. She cared about her social life, cared about making friends; stretched herself thin to make everyone happy — only to see Jungkook doing it effortlessly, all kinds of people flocking around him like vultures to a carcass. She could not comprehend how someone so different could end up with the same general outcome; thought that it was unfair that she had to work so hard for so much when Jungkook simply sat around, waiting for a miracle to fulfill his shallow wishes, and it often happened. 
She had constructed her own black and white narrative in her head, because that was far easier than to be faced with the fact that people are made of several shades of grey. Again: you kind of understood that. You had been there once, and were still fighting against a few flashes of that entitled mindset on the daily — most of which applied to Jungkook himself. 
Speaking of the devil, you found Jungkook in the same spot, stepping on what was left of his cigarette. “Sorry about that,” you told him, leaning your back on the wall next to him. There weren’t so many people in the backyard (most of the party was concentrated inside the house), and the few present ones seemed to be too distracted to bat an eye at either one of you. “Problems at home. Long story.”
“It’s fine,” Jungkook guaranteed, even if he wasn’t so sure about it for a second. There was something bitter burning its way up his esophagus, and he didn’t like that one bit.  “Didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”
“I didn’t plan to, really.” You shrugged. “It just kind of happened. Jisoo is having a rough time, one of our friends gave the idea and well… you saw how that turned out.” You signaled towards the dirty grass. “I wasn’t planning on sticking around, though.”
He raised one eyebrow, glimpsing at you. “Past tense?”
“Yeah. Past tense.” You smiled, looking down at yourself. The dress that you had borrowed from Yongsun wasn’t too revealing, and yet it made you feel like you were naked. You didn’t know if it was the way the fabric held to your waist and breasts, or if it was the way that the hem was far higher up than you were used to, but you felt strange. Not bad, necessarily, just strange. “What about you?” You looked back up at him. 
“Taehyung dragged me over here,” Jungkook said, focused on the strangers that danced around the pool. It was just a matter of time before one of them lost balance, and he didn’t want to be there to see it — he had better ideas brewing amongst his thoughts. “He pretty much vanished in three minutes, though. He always does that.”
You pouted. “Aw, poor thing. Your friend left you alone?”
He scoffed. “Look who’s talking.”
“Fair enough.” You crossed your arms, trying to shield yourself from the coolness of the night. “Sorry if I was rude to you earlier, by the way. I was pretty mad at that entire situation. I also didn’t have the best week, but that’s a  completely different story.” 
“It’s fine, shit happens,” Jungkook said, sounding as if he was only half-present in the conversation. “You don’t look like you wanna talk about it.” 
“Yep. Not at all.” 
And that was when he decided to strike. “Do you have plans for the rest of the night, by the way?”
You turned to look at him, a knowing smile already curling up on your lips. Good to know that some things didn’t change so easily, and that Jungkook still was direct when it came to getting you alone. “Something in your mind?” 
“Maybe,” he spoke slowly, testing the waters. You had that malicious glint in the depths of your irises, but he also knew that things were often not that easy. Just because you were interested, didn’t mean that it would happen. “What are the chances I’ll get you alone around here?”
Much to his inner despair, you didn’t respond to that question right away, instead hitting back with a, “Why would you want that?”
“You know why.” Once again, Jungkook didn’t allow any room for interpretation. Apparently, he wasn’t in the mood to skirt around the subject either. “Wanna get a room upstairs?” 
You took a deep breath, uncrossing your arms. “Not sure, do I?” By that point, you were buying yourself some time. At the same time that you wanted to, all those people around you were more than enough to make you reconsider. “Seems kinda risky.”
He scoffed. “We’ve done worse things in worse places.”
“None as crowded as this one though,” you threw back, signaling with your head towards the backyard. Not to mention the inside of the house, which probably constituted a fire hazard at that point. “Anyone can see us together.” 
Jungkook didn’t care at that point. Some part of him almost wished that someone would, so you didn’t have an excuse to continue with that suffocating secret any further. Instead, what he said was, “We’ll lock the door.” But you didn’t seem convinced. “Seriously, everyone in Hoseok’s parties is far too drunk or too high to care. No one’s gonna notice, and the ones that will won’t give a fuck.” 
You paused. “You know Hoseok? His mom was one of my teachers last semester.” 
Jungkook nodded. “Yeah, we’re… friends, I guess.” He didn’t know how to classify his situation with Hoseok: they were more than acquaintances, but not even close to actually being friends. Probably partners in crime. “Long story.” 
“How mysterious,” you teased, the ghost of a smile crossing over your features. Jungkook melted slightly under your gaze, so he rushed to find solace somewhere else, choosing to look at the intoxicated, loud-talking guests near the pool. You apparently took that as a silent admission of guilt. “It’s okay, I know he steals tests. You can tell me that.” 
Jungkook laughed at that, taken a bit off guard. He had no idea that people like you — as in, people who studied for tests — knew that kind of information. It was even more amazing that you didn’t snitch. “I never said a word,” he said playfully. “And you have no way to prove it.”
You giggled. “Wouldn’t dream about it,” you told him. Jungkook was staring at you now, expectation glinting inside his eyes. You raised one eyebrow. “What?” 
The light brush of the back of his hand against yours was almost imperceptible, fingers bumping against each other before they fell back into place. “Come on, let’s go somewhere else,” he tried again, much softer this time. “I miss you.”
You smiled at that, heat building up on your cheeks. Truth was: you missed him too. “I’m here right now,” was what you told him instead.
He sighed. “You know what I mean.”
Yeah, you did. Things were a bit rough when it came to seeing each other now. A few weeks after your post-winter break fiasco, Jungkook had unceremoniously decided that he wouldn’t take another semester of immunology (technically, he had already started it, but he felt no guilt when he decided to drop it). It was already a heaven-sent miracle that he managed to pass with the exact required grade the first time, and he wasn’t pushing his luck: if the basics were that horrible, he couldn’t even imagine the advanced subjects. And so your tutoring sessions with him went down the drain. 
So it was clear to see how your situation was getting a bit trickier, since you had lost your primal excuse for, well, basically everything. Before, you could blame anything on the fact that you were tutoring him. Caught sneaking somewhere strange? Just a shortcut to the library. Your friends couldn’t reach you for hours? Last minute help, with no distraction. Why did you talk to Jungkook (and why did he talk to you)? The tutoring, obviously. Nothing more. 
Of course, you two still saw one another, but it was under different, more dangerous circumstances. Perhaps that was why you were so swiftly swept away by his pleading puppy eyes, even if you didn’t believe that was the best decision.
“Fine,” you accepted with a sigh, “I’ll go upstairs and text you where to find me. Wait a few minutes, though. Don’t make it super obvious.” 
“Have a little faith in me, princess.” Jungkook smirked, placing his hands inside the pockets of his jacket. “I’m a master when it comes to sneaking around.” 
You rolled your eyes. “You better be.” 
One amazing fact about Hoseok’s parties was that a good chunk of his guests were far too worried about his parents’ status to dare to do something in their room, and that fear spread out just enough to keep his own bedroom empty as well. Every once in a while, someone would adventure inside one of those places and, lucky you, you were the chosen one for the night. Jungkook almost laughed out loud when he got your text — you were blessed enough to choose Hoseok’s room, at least. That one he could deal with, if necessary. 
Like you had told him to, he waited a little before following you upstairs. In those moments of expectancy, however, his thoughts once again got the best of him. Jungkook was never someone to overthink — if anything, it was the opposite, merely letting life follow its course — but, when it came to you, it was different. That scared him deeply, and so did the contents of his poderations: he always felt so much lighter after he talked to you, even if it was something so simple, so ephemeral, as the conversation the two of you had shared that night... but there was something off. 
He couldn’t pinpoint what it was at first, so it grew and grew inside his heart, clawing at his soul, burning its way up his stomach. There was sadness in it, he noticed, a bizarre melancholy that walked side by side his other thoughts — you were so pretty, he said to himself, so bittersweet; he wanted to hug and kiss you until he was out of breath, until there was nothing else in the world but the two of you. 
Unfortunately, though, the world was still so crowded. There was nothing he could do about it. 
Jungkook walked inside the house, diving into the overwhelming heat and the loud beating of the song. He was lost in his own world, trying to figure out what the demon on his shoulder was whispering to him, but being unable to do so. Out of options, he let it go. For now. 
He entered the bedroom about ten minutes after you — the sound of the party growing into a thunderous roar as the door opened, then morphing into an indiscernible humming as it closed. Jungkook stood there for a moment, looking at you for a couple seconds, before his eyes darted around the dark ambient.
 The moonlight was dripping past the thin curtains, accumulating in silver puddles on the floor. You had decided to leave the lights off so as not to receive any unnecessary attention from anyone else, but it was having the opposite effect when it came to Jungkook. If he thought that, if stared at you for long enough, he might lose his composure completely. 
“Haven’t been in this place in so long.” He placed his hands inside the pockets of his black jacket, following the details of Hoseok’s band posters all over the walls. His room was tidy, filled with trophies and honorary mentions that almost made Jungkook burst out laughing. Instead, just as he was about to do so, he met your inquisitive gaze. He instantly folded. “Okay, okay, I paid to get a stolen test from him. Happy? Go ahead and call the cops.” 
You smiled. “I’m not saying anything.” 
Jungkook rolled his eyes. “Like you need to do that,” he replied, walking towards the bed. You looked so beautiful under those pale lights that he could no longer avoid it, succumbing into  the magnetic pull you had on him. “You’re judging silently, you’re like a pro at that.” 
“Fair,” you acknowledged, body bouncing up a little as he sat down next to you. There was a thickness permeating the atmosphere now, a cloud of heat that surrounded you, booming inside your chest. It had been some time since you two were that close and it showed. “I’m full of talents.” 
He smirked, leaning back on one hand. The other one found its way to the nape of your neck, thumb caressing your skin. “I know you are,” Jungkook mumbled, stare flickering towards your lips. “Come here.” 
No need to tell you twice. You met him halfway, a sigh of relief leaving your lungs as his lips found yours. One second later and your hands were finding support on his broad shoulders, fingers gripping on the fabric of his jacket as Jungkook held you up, guiding you towards his lap. A long time ago, he had told you that having you straddling him was the best position to kiss you in, and you had to agree. 
The new angle allowed him to deepen the kiss with ease, a grunt vibrating inside his throat as his tongue played with yours. It was all so fast-paced, so needy — merely a byproduct of your accumulated sex drive, which wasn’t even held back for that long. More and more, however, you realized that the issue came directly from him, and the ghostly touches Jungkook left behind. It was easy to miss him when he kissed you like his life depended on it, hands exploring your body as he moaned against your tongue; it was easy to want more when he was always eager to provide; when you gave him everything and he still wanted more. 
And Jungkook didn’t know what worried him the most: if he continued to ask for more and it pushed you away, or if you actually gave him what he asked for. Because, in the end, there was still an annoying fly of insecurity buzzing around him, telling him that he’d never be enough for you; never would make the cut to be part of your life. Every time he made out with you, he felt like he was playing the world’s most dangerous game and that he was just too deep to back out now. It could be the last time he kissed you, the last taste of your tongue before you realized you deserve someone better than him. And he would be left behind to pick up the pieces of his shattered heart off the floor. 
Still, every time that you proved to him that it wouldn’t be the last time, he felt equally desperate. That made him realize what his previous anguish was about, made him see that there was a shadow being casted over him for some time now, and he simply didn’t know when he’d hit a brick wall, but he was positive that he would. What would change if, against all odds, the two of you continued together? What would change if people knew? Would the thrill be gone, or would your connection be better, more genuine? Could he actually handle being that close to someone? 
All those thoughts crashed into each other inside his brain, flowing like tempestuous waves as his hands gripped onto the flesh of your hips. You felt so soft above him, with your breasts pressed against his chest and your nails scratching on his scalp, that he never wanted to let you go. 
He groaned when you slowly moved your hips against his, searching for friction. You wished that he would continue making out with you like that until the stars burned out, but Jungkook had other plans in mind. “Fuck, I missed kissing you,” he cursed as he pulled away, his lips meeting your jaw straight away. He smooched and licked his way down your skin, his breath heavy and warm against the small wet spots he left behind. His hands were on your ass, squeezing as you pressed yourself down against his growing erection. “Whose dress is this, by the way?” 
“Yongsun’s,” you told him, fingers digging amongst the strands of his dark hair. He only hummed in return. “I didn’t have anything to wear to a party, so she let me borrow this.” 
He chuckled against your skin. Your neck seemed to be terribly sensitive that night, because it didn’t take long until you were gasping at the feeling of his lips and tongue against it, “Shocker,” he mumbled. Jungkook’s hands slithered under the hem of said dress, groping your ass beneath the fabric. Your back arched, center rolling against his covered cock once more. “I like it.” 
“Yeah?” You breathed out. 
“Yeah,” Jungkook agreed, moving down to your clavicles. “Is driving me crazy. I should thank her next time I see her.” 
“You should not.” You giggled. “Just don’t ruin it, since it’s not mine.” 
He hummed, one hand flying up to the zipper. “Don’t worry, baby, it’s not gonna stay on for long.” 
Jungkook, of course, was a man of his word. It took him a few failed attempts to successfully pull the zipper down, allowing for the soft fabric to slide away from your body, and another couple seconds of fumbling and shifting around until the piece of clothing was fully removed. He was especially eager that night — his mouth attacking your neck every time you pulled away from his kisses, sucking and biting on the flesh until you were whimpering. 
With that out of the way, he held you tightly by the waist and turned you around, his figure closely following your own as your back crashed against the bed. You tried to move upwards, closer to the pillows, but Jungkook tugged you back into place by the hips. 
“No, no,” he teased, positioning himself between your legs, “you stay here.” 
You rolled your eyes, but didn’t protest when he pushed your thighs apart. “You’re so rude sometimes.” 
Jungkook nodded, fingers hooking around the hem of your panties and pulling it down, throwing it somewhere behind him. “You love it,” he said. 
When it came to that, your body betrayed you straight away. It only took one glimpse at your pussy to know that you were already wet, and the uneasiness in which your hands grasped the sheets didn’t help you disguise your anticipation at all. Jungkook, of course, already knew that, and he was ready to give you whatever you asked for. 
Air got trapped in your lungs as he started placing wet, sloppy kisses on the inner side of your thigh. You gasped at the tingling feeling, goosebumps spreading through your body as Jungkook’s lips gradually approached your mound. “D-Did you lock the door?” You asked. 
“Yes,” he answered, his voice muffled against your skin.
But your paranoia was getting the best of you, so another question soon filled the stuffy atmosphere. “And what if someone hears us?”
“They won’t.” He breathed out, mildly irritated. Jungkook didn’t know why you were thinking so much about other people when he was right there, his mouth so close to where you needed him the most. “Music’s too loud.” 
It was loud, you just didn’t know if it was loud enough. Your attention was called towards the closed door, somewhat expecting that someone would burst it open at any given second. “And you don’t think your friend is going to be pissed that we’re doing it in his bedroom?” You tried again. 
Jungkook raised his head just slightly, staring you down. He was impatient, that was clear, and your constant doubting was starting to get on his nerves as well. The door was locked, the music was ridiculously loud, and no one would see the two of you. You had let him fuck you in far worse places, he didn’t know why you were suddenly so self conscious about being in a private room. “Seriously couldn’t give less of a fuck about what he’s gonna think about this,” he groaned. Much to your dismay, Jungkook moved straight past your pussy, kissing his way up your lower abdomen. “I can fix that later.”
“That’s a terrible life motto.” You smiled, but there was an anxious edge to your voice that he didn’t miss. His hands squeezed your waist as he pulled your body forwards, mouth hovering over your covered breasts. You got the cue, and raised your torso just enough so his hand could unclasp your bra. “Can get you in a lot of trouble.”
Jungkook scoffed, mindlessly throwing your underwear away. You were completely exposed now, while he hadn’t even removed his jacket. “I have the basic common sense to know when to use it,” he responded, his mouth clinging to your breasts straight away. Jungkook could probably die with his face between your tits and he’d be a happy man, just sucking on your nipples and listening to those whiny, soft sighs you produced for him. 
However, even that you managed to ruin. “I have my doubts about that.” You chuckled. 
Jungkook groaned, finally putting an end to his ministrations. “Can you be quiet for a second?”
You smirked. It was always fun to get under his skin. “Thought you like it when I get loud,” you teased. 
He didn’t miss a beat. “Not like this.”
You raised your eyebrows. “Like what?” 
“___,” Jungkook breathed out, shutting his eyes for an instant. Oh he was pissed pissed. Got it. “I’m not in the mood for this shit tonight.”
Every new question coming from you was another shot in the dark, not knowing what you would hit. “For what?” You pressed further. 
“You being bratty,” he growled, his hands sinking to your hips as he pulled your body closer to his. You could feel his erection straining against his pants, poking your inner thigh as he pressed his weight down on you. “Seriously not in the fucking mood.”
“That’s too bad.” You pouted — in all honesty, though, you were already starting to second guess that demeanor of yours. Just because it was fun to play with fire, it didn’t mean that you should. You should’ve learned your lesson by that point. “What has gotten into you?” 
Jungkook hesitated, wondering if he should say it or not — if it would actually solve anything, or only make it more complicated. It wasn’t only one thing: it was the fact that he hadn’t seen in you in some time, the fact that he missed you, the fact that he couldn’t even show you that he cared without being afraid of pushing you away. Also, the manner in which you had acted earlier around your friends probably didn’t help his case at all. 
That was why you were so insecure, he realized: because, yeah, you were fine with public spaces as long as they were mostly empty, as long as no one you knew could find out about the two of you. And now, even with a locked door and basically no way to be discovered amongst a sea of intoxicated strangers, you were anxious, thinking that it would all go up in flames. 
However, he realized that he didn’t want to discuss any of that. Especially knowing it would lead him nowhere, considering he was still battling against his own incoherent thoughts, trying to make sense of the emotions dancing inside his soul. 
“Doesn't matter right now.” His large hand held your face in place, fingers pressing down on your cheeks as he made you stare back at him. Your eyes were wide and expectant, flickering all over his face in a way to try and understand what was happening inside his brain. “All that matters is if you can behave for me tonight.” 
You blinked a few times, digesting his words. “I always behave,” you said softly, testing the waters. It had been a long time since he acted like that with you — kind of mean and rough in more ways than one — and it instantly threw gasoline into that bratty flame inside you. “Why do you say that?” 
He clicked his tongue. “Not always,” he corrected, apparently not falling for the faux-innocence in your tone. “And I don’t want you talking back.”
You pouted. “Not even a little bit?” 
Jungkook pressed a bit harder on your cheeks — it didn’t hurt, but it sent a clear message: you needed to shut the fuck up. “Not even a little bit.” 
And, well, you know what they say: if you can't beat them, join them. “Okay,” you agreed. “I can do that, if that’s what you want.” 
“Good.” Jungkook got closer, but the grip on your face didn’t subside. His lips were two petals brushing against yours as he spoke up again. “Can I be rough with you, princess?” 
Now that was an agenda you could get behind. “Yeah,” you promptly replied. “Want that.” 
“That’s my girl,” his tone softened, but his eyes were still malicious, watching the oscillation of your own as he finally let go of your face. His gaze burned on your skin, following the dainty movement of your tongue as you wetted your lips. “So perfect for me.” 
Before you could respond, his lips were on yours once more, swallowing your moans when he eagerly pressed himself down on you, rolling his hips against your center. Even through the fabric of his pants, you could feel how hard his cock was, brushing between your folds as his tongue explored your mouth. He was kissing you fast, thoughtlessly; leaving you gasping for air as he grunted, before moving away like nothing had happened. 
Jungkook looked down at you as if he was reading every line in your face, watching closely for any reaction that would displease him. In some strange, masochist way, you liked when he got like that — it always left you tipping around the edge of nervousness and anticipation, unaware of what he would do next. More often than not, you couldn’t really predict it. 
That time, it wasn’t any different. His hand rapidly returned to your jaw, thumb caressing your lips. “Open.” He commanded. You did as he told you to, heartbeat quickening when you realized what he was about to do. Jungkook leaned forward and allowed for a glob of saliva to drip down your mouth, a satisfied hum leaving his throat as you closed your mouth. The whole situation left you just as confused as aroused. “Swallow.” He told you. Once again, you followed his orders. “That’s it. What do we say?”
You blinked up at him, rummaging around your head for the answer that he wanted. “Thank you?” you tried, unsure. 
Jungkook smirked down at you, leaning in to trap your lips in his. He inserted his tongue inside your mouth straight away, drowning out your whimpers. It was a messy kiss, one that left you struggling as you tried to follow his pace, just barely managing before he was deepening it, sucking the air away from your lungs. By the time that he moved back, your heart was drumming, beating like a caged bird against your ribs. “You’re lucky you’re a fast learner,” he said. “Want you to do something else for me.” 
You didn’t hesitate. “Anything.” 
“Dangerous thing to say,” he teased, but didn’t seem to dwell in those endless possibilities much further. He had already outlined his plans for the night. “Hands and knees for me, baby.” 
He got out of the way so you could get in position, his heat leaving you behind. Eager to please him, you turned your body around and crawled a bit closer to the headboard — which he finally allowed you to do. 
Jungkook clicked his tongue, one hand coming down to press onto your upper back. “Lower. Ass up, princess.” He guided you until you had your cheek pressed against the soft white pillows, breasts resting on the mattress. He moved back so he could take a better look at you, the hand that was on your back now sliding up the curve of your spine and resting on your ass. “Perfect. Hold just like that.” 
Jungkook started to unbuckle his belt, his tattooed fingers working fast to remove the black leather. Instead of moving on to his pants, though, he slid the object off, measuring it for a second before looking back at you.
“What are you doing?” You asked. 
He ignored your question. “Hands behind your back.” 
And because the nervousness of being unable to predict his actions got the best of you, you let a stupid joke slip. “Are you going to arrest me, officer?” You smiled. 
But your smile didn’t last long. Jungkook’s hand was hitting your ass the next second, earning a soft whine from you. It wasn’t too painful, but it was enough of a warning shot to shut you up straight away. “I said no talking back,” he reminded you, serious as ever. “Hands behind your back.”
It was a very uncomfortable position to have your face pressed down against the pillows, with nothing else to support your upper body, but you followed his command regardless, placing your hands together. You had to bite back a gasp when Jungkook circled your wrists with his belt, moving it around until he was buckling it tightly. He gave it a last pull to make sure it would stay in place, smirking in content as your body followed it, bouncing back a little.
“Too tight?” Jungkook asked carefully. “Tell me if it hurts.” 
The thin sides of the harsh leather stung your skin a little, but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle. “No, it’s okay,” you told him. 
“Good.” He exhaled, stepping out of the bed. “Eyes on me. And don’t move.” 
Obedient, you nodded, watching as he removed his jacket, soon followed by his shirt. Your attention instantly fell to the rise and fall of his toned chest; the beautiful outlines of his muscles standing out against the pale luminescence. When it came to Jungkook, you were a bit perverted: all that you wanted to do was to kiss and bite your way down his body; to lick his abs and tease him until he was gasping under your touches. However, all that you could do was to pathetically fight against the restraints as he continued to strip. 
You swallowed dry as his pants were thrown somewhere on the ground, your focus instantly shifting towards the outline of his big, hard cock against his light grey underwear. Jungkook’s hand caressed its way down his abdomen, the ink of his skin contrasting perfectly against the clear shade of his boxers, before his fingers were squeezing his shaft. He sighed at the sensation, thumb started to circle his tip through the fabric, staining it just lightly with his precum. For a second you were hypnotized by his actions, but then he was pulling his underwear down and you snapped back to reality. 
The need to ask for him to rush was all-consuming, scorching your insides as Jungkook took his sweet time. You couldn’t bring yourself to do it, though, since he appeared to be deadset on making you drop that spoiled, bratty attitude of yours. Basically, you knew he’d only punish you further by going even slower. 
What was left for you to do was to watch as Jungkook started pumping his length, his wrist turning a bit every time he reached the tip. Under the frail light coming from outside, you could see his cock leaking for you, throbbing every time he teased his slit for a second too long. It was torture waiting as he made his way back to the bed, the mattress shifting under his weight as he kneeled behind you. 
You flinched when two of his fingers entered you unannounced, but quickly eased into his touch as he started separating them, more worried about stretching you than properly fingering you. Without a single complaint, you waited, quietly crying out his name when he randomly hit a sensitive spot inside your pussy. 
“Good girl,” Jungkook praised, apparently at nothing in particular. You liked to believe that it was because he knew how much you were holding back, though, and it filled you up with pride. “Think you’re ready. What do you say?” 
You nodded, cheek brushing against the pillow. You could only hope that your makeup wasn’t starting to smear all over it. “Yes, please.” 
In return you only received a nonchalant hum, Jungkook’s hand leaving your heat soon after. He had a dangerous expression of focus and tranquility plastered all over his face, his messy dark hair falling over his hooded eyes as he gripped your hips, pulling you towards him. Apparently, though, he wasn’t ready to give you what you wanted just yet. 
Your mouth fell open in a silent exclamation when you felt his cock sliding between your folds — so heavy and swollen against your pussy. Behind you, Jungkook’s cool demeanor cracked just slightly, a deep grunt vibrating inside his body. “Shit, look at you, baby. So fucking wet for me, soaking my cock,” he spoke, tentatively rutting his hips. You gasped at the feeling, mindlessly pushing yourself back. “Fuck, what got you so worked up?” 
Of course he wanted you to fuel that small ego trip of his, and you were happy to comply. “You did.”
Jungkook was lost in thought, barely catching your response. “Mhm… You don’t always get like this, though,” he said, slowly rolling his center against yours, his length sliding easily between your folds. “Is it the belt?” He asked out of nowhere, a manic look on his face as one hand gripped the strap of leather. “Want me to use it to fuck my cock inside your pussy?” 
“Please,” you whimpered, desperate. 
“How dirty.” Jungkook chuckled — it was a deep, evil chuckle that left you on edge. He was clearly in a strange mood, that much you could tell, but apparently that was also a sadistic one. “Want me to use your cunt like that, baby? Like it’s a toy for me to fuck?” 
“Yes, please,” you whined, a small cry breaking upon your lips as his tip bumped against your clit. You arched your back, trying to push your body towards him, but it was a fruitless endeavor. Jungkook was holding you in place with an iron grip, forcing you to keep his own, sluggish pace. It was what you told him you’d do, though, you said you’d behave for him. “Please just fuck me.” 
“Always so impatient,” Jungkook commented, touches of bitterness decorating his tone. Every slow slide of his cock between your folds was a brand new level of hell, your entire body just pleading for more. “Is that all that you’re good for? For taking my cock?” 
“Yes,” you were just saying whatever you thought he wanted to hear, your mind hyper-focused on the desire that pumped inside your veins. There was a strong pull on the belt then, a random movement that got you jumping backwards, your eyes fluttering shut as his cock hit hard against your clit. “F-fuck— Only yours.”
A sharp pain spreaded throughout your ass, the result of Jungkook’s palm crashing against the flesh. You whined at the feeling, yet found pleasure within the stinging sensation. “I said eyes on me, ___,” Jungkook reprimanded, a frown decorating his features when you opened them back up. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” 
“Sorry,” you keened. 
“It’s okay, you’ll learn.” He breathed out, the hand that had just hit you now holding your body down. “Stay still.” 
The tip of his cock prodded against your entrance — bumping against it once, twice, before Jungkook finally decided to enter you. He did so extremely slowly, exhaling loudly as his crown slipped inside you, dragging deeper inside your pussy as you moaned and shifted beneath him. 
“I said stay still,” he hissed, leaning forwards and pressing his weight down on you. 
You nodded, a few chaotic strands of your hair falling over your forehead as he continued to move inside you. Jungkook was so big, long and thick, opening you up and filling you to the brim. “F-Fuck,” you hiccuped, brain almost short-circuting at the feeling. You’d never get used to his size, that you could be certain of. “So deep.” 
He only ignored your comment, giving a last, tentative tug on your hips to make sure that he couldn’t go any deeper than that. “You know,” he started, his voice a rough, breathless whisper against your ear, “you make me so fucking confused sometimes.” 
Well, that you weren’t expecting. “W-What?” 
Jungkook's sigh was shaky as it left him, his fingers digging into your skin. He was holding you in place, soaking his cock in your pussy the way he loved so much, and he was struggling to find the right things to say. “When I have you like this, you get me so confused,” he repeated, “every single time. Just makes me fucking crazy.” 
But that didn’t help you at all. “I… I still don’t understand.” 
Jungkook smirked and placed a kiss against your shoulder. It was a gentle, controlled action that didn’t match his demeanor. “It’s okay, baby.” He moved away from you, one hand wrapping around the belt. You swallowed hard at the expectation that came from his actions. “I’ll explain it to you.” 
Often, he would wait for a bit longer — stay completely still inside you until you were crying, pleading for him to do something — but, that night, it seemed that his patience was running thin. Regardless of his own impatience, however, the first few thrusts that Jungkook gave you were so shallow and slow that he might as well have remained immobile. 
Perhaps in a different time he would read the way you tried to push yourself back against his cock and he would be nice enough to give you more. Nevertheless, he was trapped inside his own meditations at that moment, letting his thoughts spill out like venom from his lips. “It’s hilarious, don’t you think? How you got everyone fooled,” there were traces of playfulness in his tone that didn’t match the seriousness of his dark eyes, nor the way his hand tightened around the belt. He wasn’t using it yet, but it was just a matter of time. “Do you think there’s anyone in this place that thinks you’re getting fucked right now? Such a sweet, pure girl, aren’t you? You’d never do that.”
Ah, you recognized that pattern. It hadn’t presented itself for quite some time, but you knew it was just a matter of when those tendencies would leave their hibernation phase and come back to attack you. “Kook, I—“ 
“Shut up, I'm talking,” he sliced your sentence short. “And you got me fooled too, you know? Got me thinking you were such an angel. Turns out you’re just a slut for my cock. That’s why you make me so fucking confused.” His breathing was getting a bit harsher now, staining his speech with his pleasure as he plunged his cock inside your tight pussy. “You volunteered in a church and let me fuck you while you were in it.” Jungkook chuckled — if at those memories or at your distress, you didn’t know — for sure getting a sick kick out of that power trip. “And how many times did you beg me to let you ride me in my car, hm? Because you’re dirty just like that.” 
It had been some time since he acted like that, taking his time to tease you in more ways than one. There was something inherent to his ego that loved doing that to you, loved watching your face unravel into that delicious, lustful mixture of shame and pleasure as he poked that fake good girl act of yours until it was deflating, showing him your real self. Jungkook was swimming in dopamine by the time that you choked out his name, those pretty moans and whines of yours reverberating like a melody inside his skull. 
“But I like it like this,” he continued, lost in thought. His thrusts were getting a bit faster now, but not even close to what you needed. “Like when you let me fuck you the way I want; when I use you just like this,” he moaned under his breath. “Like when you choke on my cock. When you beg for me to let you cum, shit,” he cursed. “Makes me wanna fuck you ‘til you’re crying, baby.” 
Jungkook adored the lustful mist that covered your eyes, your brain scrambling to say something in return, to beg him to give you more. “K-Kook…” 
“Don’t ask, I’m not going faster now,” he interrupted you, his voice a firm and merciless attack. There was no way he didn’t know what he was doing to you, not when you were practically shaking under his body. “But you get what I mean? When I say that you make me so confused.” He breathed out. “Because you’re so sweet, but you’re such a fucking slut too.” 
You blinked back the tears, but they still came. “I’m not…”
“No?” Once again, he didn’t let you finish. There was something wicked reverberating in the back of his tone as he leaned in closer to you, his hand pulling on the belt to pull your back towards his front. “Then why did you rush up here when I told you I wanted to fuck you?” He mumbled against your ear, punctuating his sentence with another lethargic roll of his hips. His cock was hitting deep inside you, not letting any spots pass by untouched. But it was so, so slow. You just needed more. “Why are you dripping down my cock like this? You’re so fucking wet, baby, shit.” 
“I… I don’t k-know,” you stuttered. It was hard to think in a position like that. 
“I think you do,” he corrected. Jungkook pushed you down against the mattress as he moved back; the absence of his warmth stabbing you right in the heart. “What do you think they’d say? All these people in the party; all those friends you care so much about.” He was rough as he yanked on the belt, making your body tilt back, cock sinking inside your pussy. You sobbed at the feeling, every thought departing from your mind as he started to quicken his pace, using his makeshift bondage to pull you back against him. “If they knew you were being fucked like this? So fucking tight and warm around my cock.” 
You shook your head, eyes burning as the tears ran down your cheeks, soaking the pillow. You couldn’t handle being edged and, as much as he was giving you something to work with, it simply wasn’t enough. “Please, I don’t know.“ 
“Think about it, then. And get back to me later.” He smiled at your despair, the neediness of your tone egging him on. Jungkook was talking to you like he was giving you homework, and not like his cock was buried inside your cunt. “You’re gonna make me cum now, okay?” 
And maybe there is a heaven above, because your prayers had just been answered. “O-Okay,” you accepted, bracing yourself for what was about to happen. 
Jungkook didn’t disappoint. All that he needed were a few instants to set his pace, drilling into you as your body turned into jello beneath him. He was everything you could feel — his hand pulling you back by the belt on your wrists, the grip he had on your waist, the crash of his hips against your ass over and over. It seemed that Jungkook had accumulated all his stamina to surpass that breaking point, and now he was letting it all go as he fucked you hard, fast, just the way he liked it.
The sounds that were coming from him were a lewd symphony, airy moans and rough curses falling on top of each other as his cock continued to split you open. “God, princess. Wanna fuck you forever,” he breathed out, lost in his own thoughts. “Feels so fucking good, baby.” 
You sobbed at the feeling, turning your face so you could muffle your loud moans against the pillow. Jungkook didn’t appreciate that one bit, since he was pulling on your hair right after, making you turn your mouth away from the soft fabric. 
“No, you’re gonna let me hear you,” he growled. Jungkook was getting lost in the way you felt around him, wrapping around his cock so perfectly that he felt as if he couldn’t even breathe. “God, you feel so fucking tight,” he told you, voice almost silenced by the loud sound of his hips meeting yours. You could only thank the DJ for putting the music so loud, otherwise the noise of the bed hitting the wall would be painfully obvious. “Just sucking me right in, fuck. Gonna make me cum like this.” 
Amongst your catastrophic thoughts, you found what you were looking for. “Inside, p-please,” was all that you could ask before another string of whimpers fell from your lips. 
His cock throbbed inside you at your request. You knew that he was close and, yet, he wanted to push your limits a bit further. “Ask again and I’ll think about it.” He smiled. 
Why he was such a little shit would forever remain a mystery — one that you weren’t trying to crack, at least not at such a critical point of the night. “P-Please, Kook, fill me up,” you stuttered. 
“Fuck. That’s my girl,” he moaned, breathless. Jungkook looked down to see the way his cock sunk inside your pussy, your walls sucking him right in, so tight and slippery that he felt as if he couldn’t hold it for much longer. “Gonna give you everything, baby. So fucking good for me.” 
It was those pretty sounds you were making — it always were — that pushed him over the edge, his cock throbbing inside you with every new wave of cum that left him. He cursed and grunted at the feeling, fucking you hard as he prolonged his high. Soon enough, though, Jungkook reached his limit, letting go of your wrists so he could lean closer to you. His cock was starting to soften, but it slipped even deeper inside you at the new angle, making you wince. 
“You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispered. He knew that you hadn’t cum, but he was more than ready to deal with that. “Baby,” Jungkook called, his voice sounding so spent against your ear. He placed a small kiss on your neck, relishing in the way your pussy clenched around him. You were so sensitive, so responsive. It was so sweet. “Turn around for me.” 
You nodded, still overwhelmed. Jungkook moved back and removed his cock from your heat, helping you into that new position. 
It took a bit of maneuvering, but soon enough you were laying down on your back, legs spread out and pushed up. “Kook,” you called softly. Jungkook found your teary eyes straight away. “My hands are hurting like this.” 
He reached out for one pillow, placing it underneath your ass. The new angle relieved the pressure on your wrists instantly. “Better, baby?” 
“Yeah,” you agreed, following his movements as he placed himself between your thighs once more. Apparently you two would end the same way you started — how poetic. “What are you gonna do?”
“What do you think? Gonna clean you up,” Jungkook said, his previous attitude nowhere to be found. His expression was much more tender as he leaned closer to your heat, one hand tentatively brushing up your thigh, and towards your center. “You made such a mess, princess.” 
“Me?” You echoed. You wanted to look at him, but the new angle of your hips didn’t allow you to see more than his black hair between your legs. “Your fault.”
He chuckled at that — apparently he didn’t mind your bratty demeanor now. “My fault? How evil of you,” Jungkook teased. Two of his fingers separated your folds, a deep groan resounding inside his chest as he noticed the white liquid dripping out of you. “God, love seeing your pussy filled with my cum.” 
You gasped as you felt his digits brushing on your entrance. You were already so sensitive, basically dangling on the edge of your pleasure, and you couldn’t endure any more of his provocations. “Jungkook,” you called,” “please…” 
Instead of answering you right away, he tilted his head to the side and pressed a kiss against your skin. He hummed against your thigh, tongue coming out to lick it. He was sucking hickeys onto your flesh, marking his way up towards your pussy as you trembled underneath his touches. “I’m right here.” His fingers sunk inside you, pushing his cum back in and feeling as your walls fluttered around them. Jungkook knew your body like the back of his hand, wasting no time before curling them up in the way he knew you loved it. “That’s it,” he said as you moaned. “Be loud for me.” 
“I want your mouth, please,” you cried out. 
“Anything you want, baby,” he agreed, moving towards your center. His fingers were still pumping in and out of you when he leaned in and licked your clit, earning a broken sob from your part. “Be a good girl and cum on my tongue for me. Make me proud.” 
You nodded eagerly, even if you weren’t completely sure he had seen it. Jungkook was now completely zeroed-in on the sight of your pussy, his pouty lips wrapping around your clit and sucking on it slightly. A sharp, loud moan left you as his tongue prodded out against the sensitive nub, his saliva mixing with your arousal as he played with your clit. 
“Oh— Oh my god,” you whined, hands struggling against the belt. You wanted to run your hands through his messy hair, and wanted to pull on it as he ate you out — you knew he liked it just as much when you did that, always moaning after you did so. But there was nothing you could do but be at Jungkook's mercy, following his lethargic pace as his muscle swirled around your bundle of nerves again and again, threatening to unleash the pleasure accumulating inside you. “I’m c-close.” 
He moaned against your pussy, removing his fingers from your heat and moving downwards. He had his mouth toying with your entrance soon after, tongue entering you and licking you clean, just like he promised. The sounds you were making were incredibly loud and extremely shameful, making your face heat up as your orgasm floated just beyond your reach. 
“J-Jungkook,” you stuttered, hips raising upwards faithlessly. Still, his hand came to keep them in place, pushing your legs up so he could eat you out better. He licked you as if you were his favorite meal, groaning against you as your pussy dripped down his face. All that it took you was one glimpse down at him, combined with the light pressure of his thumb against your clit, to get you unraveling on his tongue, a final wave of arousal gushing out of you. “Fuck, Jungkook— fuck, fuck…” 
During times like those, Jungkook was patient, letting you ride out your high for as long as you needed, humping his face as you called out his name, until you were spent. He groaned when you started wincing away from his touches, sinking into your taste and giving you a few final licks before stopping. 
He raised his head. “Back to me, baby,” he requested. 
You were trembling a little, body still on edge as he swirled you around to untie you. You sighed in relief as he removed the belt from your wrists, watching as thin lines appeared on your skin. Luckily, it wasn’t noticeable. “Was I good?" You asked, turning around so you could lay on your back once again. 
Jungkook smiled at the dazed, fucked-out look you presented him; the airiness of your tone. “Perfect,” he answered, one hand cupping your cheek, “my girl’s always perfect.” 
He pulled you into another kiss — a much more gentle one this time, much slower. You sighed, soaking in the way his tongue caressed yours; his nose just slightly bumping into yours as he leaned his head to the side. Jungkook’s fingers were tender against your skin, brushing your hair back as he laid down next to you, mouths still connected. 
It was only after a few more seconds that he pulled away, looking you deep in the eyes. “You okay?”
You nodded, your nose brushing on his from the close proximity. “I’m a bit sore, but I’ll be fine,” you replied. “I can’t believe we’ve done it on someone else’s bed.” 
Jungkook scoffed. “Again: we’ve done it in worse places.” 
“I know,” you whined, closing your eyes at the memory. Or rather, memories. Plural. You were totally going to hell at that point. “I don’t know if I should be relieved about that or not.” 
“Don’t think too much about it,” he said, stealing another small kiss from your lips before placing his face on the curve of your neck. He basked in your warmth, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you in. “Just enjoy the moment.” 
Jungkook was called by you like a bee by the most beautiful flower in the garden, his muscles relaxing as your fingers played with the soft curls of his hair. You sighed, eyeing the gentle movements of your hand on his scalp. “Wanna tell me what got you so mad now?” You tried. 
He took some time to clean out his mind, pulling back so he could look at you better. “I wasn’t mad, I was just…” he hesitated for a second. It was one of those moments that he wasn’t sure that you’d like to hear the complete truth, so he settled for asking back something that had been corroding his insides for a while now. “Can you tell me something? And be honest about it.”
You agreed, taking the hand that was playing with his hair to brush his cheek. “Sure, what is it?”
If he thought that approaching you was difficult, it simply could not compare to the Herculean task that was to speak his worries out loud. It was as if part of him didn’t want to know the answer, as if that could unlock too many possibilities for him to deal with. Yet, against the heaviness that expanded inside his chest, Jungkook managed to ask you, “Have you been seeing anyone else?” 
His question came out as a low mumble, words slurred together. There was a second of silence before you found your voice. “No… I only went out on a few dates with Jimin, but it was just, like, a week-long thing. And that was some time ago,” you said. 
Jungkook nodded. “Yeah, I remember that.” 
“And you?” you asked back. 
“Have you been seeing anyone else?” 
“Ah.” He paused. “No, haven’t been with anyone else in some time.” 
It was your turn to fight through the hesitation, against all the demons inside your head begging you to let that subject evaporate, to turn into nothing before it held the power to hurt you. “Why… Why do you ask?” 
There was no change in his expression, so you had absolutely no clue what was going on behind his solemn stare. “I was just thinking about it,” he responded. “No particular reason.” 
“Jungkook,” you reprimanded, “don’t bullshit me.”
He sighed, allowing for his gaze to navigate around the room — anywhere but you. “Okay, if that’s what you want,” he accepted. His focus had now shifted to the way his hand was caressing your waist, a thoughtless, automatic action he had grown so used to. “This might sound stupid, but I don’t want you see you with anyone else.” 
It took you one long, nightmarish moment to find your voice, one in which Jungkook was sure he had fucked up big time. He couldn’t even look you in the eyes, but he felt the way your body grew tense underneath his fingertips. “Jeon Jungkook,” you spoke slowly, but there was a blissful sound to your voice that relaxed him instantly. “Are you jealous?”
He shrugged, speaking under his breath. “Maybe I am.”
Against all odds, you pinched his cheek. That got him looking at you with sheer confusion — you guessed that had never happened before, considering that he looked as docile as a starving wolf. “Aw, you can be cute when you want to, who would’ve guessed?” You teased. “Guess we’ve been kind of going exclusive for a while, though. So there’s nothing to worry about.” 
Jungkook nodded. He liked the sound of that. “Guess we have.” 
You smiled. “Sounds kinda weird, doesn’t it? How we’ve gotten to this point.” 
“Yeah,” he agreed. “But it’s a nice weird.” 
“I think so too,” you told him. 
Jungkook sighed and leaned in, putting his face between your chin and your breasts. When he spoke up again, his voice came out muffled on your skin, vibrating against your clavicles. “Wish I could see you more, though,” he admitted. 
“Yeah, that sucks. I wish so too.” You exhaled heavily, searching around your skull for any miraculous way to solve that situation. There was nothing, sadly. “We’ll figure something out, we always do. Sure you don’t wanna get back into immuno?”
“Do you hate me that much?” He laughed. “No, one semester was more than enough. I’ve paid for all my sins at this point.”
“I seriously doubt that.” You sensed his body relax against yours as your fingers continued to play with his hair. “You had already started a second one, though.” 
He scoffed. “Yeah, that’s because my tutor is kind of a hottie and I needed an excuse to be around her,” Jungkook told you, his inked hand still tracing soft circles on your skin. There was a faint booming of the party beyond those walls, mixed with the ebullient chatter of a hundred strangers, but he was all that you could focus on. “But don’t tell her I said that.” 
“Your secret is safe with me,” you agreed. After a second of silence, you spoke up again. “I think we should probably get going, by the way. It’s late and Yongsun will start to worry.” 
Jungkook nodded even if, when he pulled back, he appeared to be extremely disappointed at the idea. “Yep, gotta pay her back for giving you that dress,” he said. “You want a ride home? I haven’t been drinking.”
You raised your eyebrows. “That’s news.”
“You arrived before I got the chance to,” he explained. 
“Now that makes more sense,” you recognized. Jungkook in a social situation not drinking? You should call someone to investigate that. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea, though. Haven’t we done enough risky business for the night?” 
Luckily, Jungkook had already predicted that exact argument. “It’s not gonna be suspicious, and I don’t want you getting an Uber alone so late.” 
“Aw. Look at you being all worried about me,” you joked, reaching out to pinch his cheek again. This time, however, Jungkook was faster, holding your wrist in place. 
“Don’t,” he warned, letting your hand go. “You’re gonna make me change my mind if you keep that sappy shit up.” 
“Doubt it,” you teased, leaning in to place a kiss against his lips. Jungkook tried to follow your touch, but you had already pulled back so you could speak. “You’re right, though. I’ll accept your offer.” 
“What an honor,” he said, monotone. 
“I know it is,” you told him. Jungkook took his chance and nuzzled his face closer, his nose hitting yours just slightly. “We should get dressed now.” 
“Hmmm… yeah, we probably should…” he trailed off, one hand resting on the nape of your neck. His dark eyes were zeroed in on your lips, a hazy cloud of desire over them. “Just one more kiss.”
You laughed. “Fine. One more.” 
If you were (un)lucky enough, there was a lot that could happen in one single night. And, apparently, that was precisely what the universe had in store for you. 
After definitely more than one kiss, the two of you agreed to meet each other downstairs, following the same plan as before — you’d leave first, and Jungkook would wait a few minutes before going to the living room. Everything seemed to be working fine — as promised, no one was even acknowledging your presence, much more interested in the absurd story that Hoseok was yelling about — and the two of you were almost out the front door when it happened. 
“Fucking finally!” Taehyung raised his arms aggressively, scaring a girl that was walking nearby and almost knocking her cup over. Still, he seemed to be completely ignorant to it as he cheerfully walked towards you two, his attention stuck on Jungkook. “I’ve been searching for you everywhere, man! What did you get yourself into?” 
Jungkook held out one hand, not allowing his friend to come any closer to the two of you. “Dude, you stink,” he complained, nose scrunching up. In fact, Taehyung looked and  smelled as if he had decided to dumpster dive for the night. You had no idea what happened at Hoseok’s parties and, at that point, you were afraid to find out. “Back the fuck off.” 
Taehyung pointed at him, narrowing his eyes. He was so clearly (and comically) drunk that for a second you thought he was acting. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the case. “You should be more polite, Jeon, I pay for the roof over your head,” he threatened. Jungkook was about to say something in return when Taehyung noticed your presence, a ditzy, uneven smile stretching over his features. “___! Hey! What’s good? What are you doing at a party?” 
You limited yourself to a polite smile in return. “How are you, Taehyung?” you asked. “I’m just leaving, actually.”
“I’m giving her a ride,” Jungkook started, “It’s too late and—“
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He waved one hand in front of him, disregarding his explanation. “I’m riding shotgun. Called it.”
You let Jungkook and Taehyung lead the way towards the car, feeling strangely small underneath the enormous expanse of the night sky. The world outside Hoseok’s house was a quiet and desolate one, barely allowing for the sounds of your steps to be heard past the cool nocturnal breeze. If there was something you knew about Jungkook was that there were no moments of peace when you were with him, so the fact that you had such a tranquil instant for yourself probably wasn’t a good thing. 
As the car doors were shut and the three of you were inside the moving vehicle, you couldn’t help but feel like you had a grenade in your lap, just waiting to explode. Jungkook had mentioned that Taehyung not only had his suspicions as he was actively searching for answers — unlike your friends, that limited themselves to small and fruitless sessions of interrogation, Taehyung had taken upon himself to solve that mystery. By some divine miracle, he apparently hadn’t asked any of your friends, since you were pretty sure that Yongsun would be quick to connect the dots. 
But now that you were trapped in a car with him, drunk or not, the stakes seemed to be dangerously high. 
“Soooo, ____.” He slapped Jungkook’s shoulder twice, ignoring the string of curses that left him. “How has it been teaching good old JK here?” 
“Not as bad as most people would think.” You smiled, hoping that there were no nervous edges in your voice. It was funny to see Taehyung so drunk: he was always so serious during your ethics classes, it was an odd contrast. “He’s not terrible.”
Taehyung laughed and lightly punched him on the shoulder. Jungkook barely reacted, instead focusing on the road that expanded before him. “Look at that, that’s a first,” he teased. “Did someone finally manage to tame you?” 
“Shut up, dude. You don’t pay for my gas and I won’t hesitate to kick you out of this car,” Jungkook warned. 
Taehyung looked back at you. “Are you sure he isn’t that bad?” 
“He has his moments, but I can deal with it.” You stood your ground, but quickly switched the subject. “But what’s going on with you, Taehyung? Haven’t talked to you in some time.” 
You two never really talked, if you were to be honest, but even your shallow, small talk before class had melted away. You’d blame that on yourself, since you were taking that extra time to review for your upcoming exams, and there were just other people in class that you were closer to (and would rather talk to). Also, well, since you found out that he lived with Jungkook, you thought it would be wiser to keep your distance. 
“Oh, yeah, lots of tests, lots of projects.” He waved, clearly disregarding those things. “Drinking to forget most of them.” 
You nodded. “Makes sense, my friend was in the same situation and—“ 
“By the way!” Taehyung interrupted you with a high-pitched scream, almost choking himself with his seatbelt when he turned back to look at you. Your mouth hung open for a second, unsure of what to do. “You can help me with something.”
It took you an instant of silence to recover from that. “With... what?” You hesitated. 
He smiled widely, turning back around. You found Jungkook’s gaze in the mirror, and the frown on his face didn’t let you relax. “You see, I’ve been… investigating something, you could say.” Taehyung cleared his throat. You had no idea what happened inside his mind when he was drunk, but you’d guess that he was living his CSI fantasy a bit too hard. “I’m a pre-law student, love crimes, you know the deal. So I wanted to use my knowledge for good.”
“Okay…? But I don’t know how I’d be able to help you investigate anything,” you told him, measuring your words. You felt as if there was electricity buzzing inside the car, sending small shocks of anticipation throughout your skin. Part of you thought that it was better to ask — it would be more suspicious not to. “What is it, by the way?” 
Taehyung turned back around, locking eyes with you. “I’m trying to figure out who Jungkook has been sleeping with.”
You almost choked on your own saliva — you didn’t expect him to be that direct. But that was your own innocence getting in your way, considering Taehyung’s track record of being completely shameless. “I’m sorry?” You asked. 
Thankfully, Taehyung didn’t notice anything strange about your shock. “Right? He has this secret date or whatever that completely fucks him up.” He laughed, reaching out one hand to touch Jungkook’s shoulder. The driver shifted on his seat, clearly uncomfortable. “The guy here is all smiles and fluffy shit when he comes back and—“
He groaned. “Taehyung, shut the fuck up, I swear to god I’ll knock you out.” 
“—And I just need to know who’s doing that to him, you know?” He completed, face completely serene as if he wasn’t just threatened with physical violence. 
You blinked once, twice, trying to figure out what to say. Moments like those made you wish you were playing a game and that dialogue options would simply appear in front of you. “And you want my help with what?” Was what you chose to go for. 
Taehyung looked at you like you were an idiot. “That’s obvious. Do you know who it could be? I asked like everyone on campus and no one has a clue.”
“Everyone?” You echoed, heartbeat quickening. 
“Practically everyone.” He shrugged. “By the way, your friend Jisoo is very rude.”
Jungkook scoffed. “You’re telling me.” 
“You asked Jisoo?” you asked before you could hold back, a blanket of panic softly falling over you. That couldn’t be good. If she didn’t notice a pattern already, it was just a matter of time before she did. You could only pray that her denial was stronger. “So do you, like, have any leads?” 
“I might be onto something.” Taehyung looked out of the window, following the movement of the light poles next to the car. Thankfully you had already entered your neighborhood, because you didn’t think you’d be able to handle much more of that before letting something slip. It wasn’t even as if Taehyung was some interrogation mastermind, you were just under pressure and he was being far too intense about it. “Maybe you could help.” 
“I don’t know anything, sorry,” you told him, firm. You met Jungkook’s eyes in the rearview mirror again, and you didn’t understand the emotion you saw in them. You looked away. “Jungkook and I don’t really discuss these kinds of things. I’m just tutoring him — or, rather, was. We don’t talk that much anymore.” 
Jungkook decided to step in and help you. “Yeah, Taehyung, give it a break. You’re drunk.”
“Moderately tipsy.” He raised one finger, staring Jungkook down for a second before turning around. You had reached the very obvious conclusion that Taehyung was a complete nuisance when it came to alcohol. “Will you tell me if you find something out?” 
“I don’t think it’s very healthy to be this obsessed with your friend’s sex life,” you deflected. 
He cocked his head to the side. “It’s more than his sex life, obviously,” he told you, stealing a glimpse at his friend. The yellow lights of the street melted over Jungkook’s features, deepening his frown even further. “Some things are just so crazy that we can’t let it pass. I would never guess that I’d live long enough to see Jungkook here being so wh—“ 
“We’re here,” Jungkook said. The car abruptly slowed down, with him pressing down on the breaks a little too suddenly — mostly because he had been distracted and almost drove past your apartment building. Your body leaned forwards, the seatbelt pressing on your chest as the vehicle finally stopped.
“I almost hit my head, dude, fuck,” Taehyung complained. 
Jungkook didn’t hesitate. “I wished you would, I’ll try harder next time,” he told him before turning around to meet your gaze. “You good?”
You could see it in his expression that he wasn’t just asking about the sudden break, but also about the strange conversation you had been thrown in. “I’m fine, thanks for the ride.” You removed your seatbelt, rushing to open the door. The cold breeze of the night swiftly expanded inside the vehicle, the vague scent of petrichor filling your nose. “It was nice seeing you guys.”
“Likewise.” Taehyung nodded, following you with his eyes as you stepped out of the car. “See you! Let me know if you find something.” 
“Sure,” you could only agree, because you couldn’t take any more of his insistence. “Bye, Taehyung.” You leaned down so you could look past his window. “Bye, Jungkook.” 
Jungkook raised his hand. “Bye.” 
Taehyung waited until you were too far away from the car to be able to listen, turning around with a silly smile on his face. “She’s nice, I get why you liked tutoring so much.” 
Which might have been the last drop that made Jungkook’s cup overflow. “Man, you’re such a fucking dumbass,” he cursed, staring his roomate down. “How fucking bored so you have to be to keep asking this shit to everyone? Can’t you see that you’re making everyone uncomfortable as fuck?” 
His friend, however, remained completely unaffected. “This could be avoided if you just told me who it is. It’s all your fault, honestly.” 
Jungkook shook his head. “Why do you gaslight people when you’re drunk, dude? Go to therapy.”  
Taehyung crossed his arms. “Don’t change the subject.” 
But Jungkook wasn’t planning on discussing any subject at all, instead letting his focus gravitate towards you. 
It seemed as if Jisoo was right about one thing: what Jungkook wanted to happen, would happen. The good, the bad, and the ugly — and, like some Monkey’s Paw situation, he got his wish granted. Someone was about to find out about your little secret.
Taehyung shifted around on his seat, annoyed that the car hadn’t continued to move. He glanced at Jungkook, who was leaning over the wheel and looking at you through the passenger’s window. Taehyung traced after his stare and then returned to his friend. “So, what are you waiting for?” He asked. “I wanna get home already, I’m super hungry.” 
“Yeah, yeah, chill,” Jungkook disregarded. When the door to the building closed behind you, he leaned back and found Taehyung’s inquisitive gaze dancing around his features. “Just checking if she’s getting in safe.”
Taehyung scoffed. “Since when do you worry about something like that?” He crossed his arms. A shadow of doubt crossed his face as the car pulled away from the sidewalk. “And how do you know where she lives?”
Jungkook shrugged. “She told me back at the party.” 
“I never heard her say that,” he said. 
He didn’t bat an eye. “It was before we even found you.” 
But Taehyung wasn’t relenting. “Yeah, but you never asked for directions during the time you were driving, like you already knew the way.” He turned around on his seat and looked past the window, as if there was some secret message written in the night sky. Something was close to clicking inside his head — he was too intoxicated to know what exactly, but he knew there was something. “Have you been here before?” 
“No, dude, I already said that ___ told me where she lives and how to get here.” Jungkook rolled his eyes. The way he was gripping tightly to the wheel betrayed his faux-nonchalance, but Taehyung wasn’t paying attention to any of that. “Can you let that go? Jesus.” 
And probably if Taehyung was sober, he would have done just that. But the fact that he was intoxicated out of his mind probably helped the opening of his third eye — and, suddenly, he saw the truth: the dark clouds dissipating and shedding a deep, incontestable light onto that entire situation. 
His first words came out at a low volume, whispered and measured as if he couldn’t understand them for a moment, “No... No fucking way.” Taehyung took one hand to his mouth as the puzzle pieces fell into place inside his brain. When he spoke up again, he was practically yelling. “No! What the fuck?! No! Oh my fucking god?” 
Jungkook groaned, trying to understand what his friend was even going on about. Part of him already grasped it, he was just in denial. “Shut up, dude, you’re so loud,” he complained. 
However, his roommate wasn’t in the right mindspace to listen to the voice of reason. Taehyung continued to shift around for a bit, his widened eyes roaming over the street that stretched before the two of them; his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He was trying to make sense of his eureka moment, which wasn’t half as glamorous as the TV shows made it out to be. “That’s the girl?” He finally got that question out, and it hit him like a frying pan directly to the face. Taehyung was so deep in his own spiral that he didn’t even notice the way Jungkook’s jaw clenched, his fingers loosening their grip on the wheel. “That’s the— Open the window, I’m gonna puke.” 
“You’re the most exaggerated person I know,” Jungkook mumbled, but still slid down the window. Just to be sure. “Shut up. That’s not her.” 
Taehyung gasped at that, inhaling the gelid nocturnal air. Not even that seemed to calm him down, though. “It is! You’re a terrible liar! What the fuck?!” He pointed at Jungkook as the car slowed down, pausing at a stop light. “Since when?” 
The breaks screeched a little before the vehicle stopped moving, and even that sound left Jungkook on edge. The traffic lights above him were mocking him, the bright red dot showing him that he was just as trapped as he felt. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he told him. 
Problem was: Jungkook really wasn’t that good of a liar, especially when it involved Taehyung. After so many years of friendship, the other saw right through him. 
All that Taehyung needed was to narrow his eyes and repeat himself — this time in a much calmer, lower volume. “Since when?”
And Jungkook folded. “I… don’t know the exact time. It’s been over six months.”
The volume of his voice shot back up instantly. “Over six— You have to be kidding me!” Taehyung’s synapses were working as if he had just injected fifteen liters of caffeine directly inside his veins; a crazy look plastered all over his face and a minor twitch on one of his eyelids. He wasn’t sober enough to control himself, so his thoughts just came falling off his mouth with no coherency. “___?! How the— How the fuck? Why? What the—“ 
“You can’t tell anyone about it,” Jungkook interrupted. He couldn’t even look at him, he was feeling awful — not because he cared about it, but because he knew you did. And if you found out that he had shared your secret with someone, well… that could be a big issue. 
“How can I not?” Taehyung asked, bewildered. “I’m losing my mind over here, I have to share it with the world.”
“Taehyung. Not. A. Word,” Jungkook stressed, finally meeting his stare. Even drunk, Taehyung could interpret him better than anyone else in the world. “Do you fucking hear me? This isn’t funny, shithead.” 
The other man paused for a second, his eyes stuck on his. “Shit, man.” Taehyung breathed out, practically whispering. If he thought his previous eureka moment was hard to deal with, the second one was so unrealistic that he almost started to laugh. “You’re fucking whipped.”
Jungkook turned away. “I’m not.”
“You are!” He insisted, pitch rising back up. As if that entire dialogue wasn’t a roller coaster on itself, his voice was following the same pattern. “And, oh my god, that actually makes so much sense? You would never study so much in your life. I was so stupid not to see the obvious clues before my eyes!” He laughed at that, thinking that he was both the smartest and dumbest man in the world. “That’s so cool. I’m happy that you’re in lo—“ 
“Shut up.” This time, his voice came out much firmer, frigid as the winds that howled around the neighborhood. The light turned green, and Jungkook didn’t even have the reflex to move straight away. “That’s enough, Taehyung, seriously. I’m not fucking around.” 
His serious and controlled tone worked like a tranquilizing dart being shot straight at his roommate — Taehyung knew better than to keep provoking Jungkook when he was showing that cold type of anger. “Sorry, man.” His shoulders fell, all that pump of adrenaline leaving his body as quickly as it had arrived. “I’m just… surprised.”
“Well, yeah.” He pursed his lips, slowly pressing down on the gas pedal. “Can’t say I saw that coming either.”
“Fuck.” Taehyung shook his head as if it would be enough to wake him up from that bizarre dream he was having. “I never thought I’d see you all lovey-dovey and worried like this. It’s kind of adorable, really. You’re down bad, dude.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m not down bad.” 
“Jungkook,” Taehyung spoke slowly, as if he was talking to a child. It seemed that the booze shot his superiority complex as high as the moon. “I’ve known you for, what, thirteen years? I know you better than your own mom at this point. Hate to break it to you, man, but you’re as whipped as they come.” 
And it hurt to hear that, because Jungkook knew it was true. Perhaps it was time to come to terms with the fact that maybe, just maybe, Jungkook was head over heels for you. He just needed to be sure that you felt the same before he fucked everything up — more than he already did, at that. “Yeah, whatever.” He breathed out. That couldn’t be good. “Just don’t tell anyone or I’ll break your face.” 
“I won’t. Promise.” His friend raised his palm in a silent oath, another hand to his heart. Still, Jungkook wasn’t buying it and, if that started to spread, he knew he’d be in deep shit with you. As if Taehyung was reading his thoughts, he said, “But you know you can’t hide this forever, right? Eventually people are going to find out, even if I don’t say a word.” 
“Yeah.” Jungkook sighed, unsure if he was talking about the situation, or about that warm, hesitant emotion blossoming like a flower just behind his sternum — which was getting harder and harder to ignore. “Yeah, I know I can’t.”
3K notes · View notes
gashinabts · 2 months ago
anti-baby fever| (m)
Word: 4.5k
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader, established relationships
Genre: comedy, fluff, smut, angst
Summary: jungkook gives you a Mother’s Day gift as a joke, now your mom thinks you’re pregnant.
Warnings: smut, multiple orgasms, nipple play, fingering, fondling, creampie, impregnation kink, jk loves titties, unprotected sex, anxiety, suicide mentioned, crying, a messy argument
a/n: My family celebrates Mother’s Day on tenth so happy Mother’s Day! Idk if there’s any mom armys lol. But here’s something for you guys and hope you enjoy this!!! comment and tell me Whatchu think...remember that your comments and support are what motivates me to write 🥸🥸
read next—> anti-romantic
Tumblr media
“ Happy Mother’s day!,” Jungkook hands you the bouquet of flowers. The last time you checked, you didn’t have any kids. If anything you despise kids, the thought of their sticky grubby hands always reaching for their ipad made you shudder. Your mother always scolds you for not having maternal instincts, but you could care less.
You grab the flowers staring at the pretty petals. “ We don’t have kids,” you remind your boyfriend. You look at him, biting the inside of your cheek, Jungkook looks hot with his hair tied up, some hair strands framing his face.
“ Well, you are always taking care of me,” he gives you a boyish smile and then pecks your cheek. “ Also, I do be sucking your titties.” There are people around you guys and you grow red in fear that they heard this conversation.
“ Jungkook,” you give out a harsh whisper, pushing his body away from you. “ Why am I still with you?” It’s more of a question to yourself. Despite being together for nine years, you still get startled at his crude jokes and raunchy humor. Just how he was when you guys started dating in highschool.
“ One reason is because we have an apartment together that’s under my name. The second reason is because I am cute. Another reason could be because you love me, I’m still hoping you love me…” he shrugs coming closer to your side and throwing his arm around your shoulder.
Your finger touches your cheek, making a contemplating expression, “ Hmm, it is definitely the first reason.”
Jungkook laughs at your expression, then bends his down, coming close to your ear biting your earlobe. You yelp at the sudden pain, bringing your hand to tug at it. “ What about the unlimited supplies of mind blowing orgasms?” Jungkook chuckles as you groan loudly.
The apartment is sparkly clean after spending an hour cleaning it with Jungkook. He is currently taking a shower and humming to a song as you pee in the toilet. “ Babe, can you wash my hair?” Jungkook asks as soon as you flush the toliet.
You scoff, “ You have two hands,” you wash your hands.
“ Wow, thanks for informing me. But babe I like when you use your nails on my scalp, it makes me feel all tingly and good.” Jungkook opens the sliding shower door not even waiting for an answer. The clothes are on the floor and you are now massaging his scalp with his expensive hair conditioner. Leaving a strawberry scent in his nice shiny hair. “ As much as I do know how much I love coddling you, Jungkook?” You say with a smile as he turns his head slightly, showing his sparkly eyes.
“ Of course I do, babe. I really appreciate it when you do things for me,” his warm voice leaves butterflies in your stomach. There is a comfortable silence as you continue your action until a discussion about a topic you don’t want to talk about. “ I called my mom to wish her happy mother’s day. And she is asking about children again,” his voice is barely carried over the water hitting the floor. Your fingers continue to brush his strands.
The devil on your shoulder just wants you to pretend that you didn’t hear him but what good would that do? “ What did you tell her?” You reply with just as little volume he is speaking.
“ I told her it is something that we are not planning at the moment. Maybe in a couple years,” he turns around showing you his doe eyes. “ Y/N-”
“ The conditioner smells nice. You were right, it makes your hair look lucious,” you veer the conversation. Switching spots with him, finally washing your own hair, your face is now facing away from him, just staring at the wall. You hear Jungkook sigh and you ignore it.
Jungkook is out with your dad at the grocery store buying a small cake for your mother, who is coming over. When she arrives she talks about your sister’s children the whole time. Showing you an endless amount of photos which you have already seen since your sister sends you pictures of them all the time. “ Isn’t she adorable?,” she shows a picture of your niece eating ice cream.
“ Kinda,” you shrug your shoulders. Yeah, your niece is cute but you sometimes like to joke around. The food is finished cooking and you plate it on the table, serving your mother who is still gushing over her phone.
“ Well, when you have kids I won’t be telling them they are cute,” she gives you a look. The look of disapproval that you witness too many times.
You place the last plate of food down. “ Then I won’t have any. See problem solve,” you laugh.
She rolls her eyes, crossing her arms. Her eyes look at the center of the table at the flowers in the vase. The flowers that Jungkook gave you this morning. “ Those are lovely. They look fresh,” she comments, touching the petal of the pink carnation.
You mindlessly speak, “ It’s mother’s day gift from Jungkook,” you laugh thinking about his dorky smile. Jungkook should be here any minute but you miss him right now. He makes these dinners go by faster and more fun.
“ Are you serious?” Your mother’s eyes widen and she sits up straighter.
“ Yeah,” you nod, setting the last plate. “ Why-” Then you come to realize why she is so flabbergasted. No, you are not pregnant. You take birth control everyday. There’s even a special alarm on your phone that shows on text, yeetus the fetus, when it goes off. “ Wait Mom I-” you are about to explain until your dad and Jungkook come walking from the door.
“ Hey honey, why are you crying?” Your father's eyes widen at the sight of your mother. Jungkook stands by the door with the same expression then looking at you with his brow arched.
“ Y/N is pregnant. I’m so happy right now and very proud of her,” she sniffles. Proud? You cringe at the choices of words but that is not what is important right now. Your father pats Jungkook's shoulder awkwardly and then comes to your mom. Jungkook finally gets back to reality and walks towards you, eyes begging for an explanation or recap to what is going on.
You tug at your hair, “ Jungkook gave the flowers as a joke,” you let out an exasperated sigh. Your mother's face immediately turns sour and your father sits down on the chair before a storm appears.
Her eyebrows pinch together, “ A joke? What would the punchline even be?,” she looks angry. You and Jungkook look at eachother, not wanting to explain what it was because who wants to tell their parents that your boyfriend likes sucking on their titties.
Pulling the chair out for you, Jungkook guides you to sit down, “ It was something silly. Let’s forget about it and eat this delicious meal that Y/N made. We got your favorite cake too,” Jungkook says while smiling. Although the few minutes of dinner were awkward, your boyfriend managed to make it more comfortable and charm his way with your mom to make her keep laughing every five minutes.
The face mask is cooling your tired skin as you scroll on your phone as you lay on bed. Looking at some tiktoks and casually laughing at some. Jungkook’s head is laying on your lap and doing the same, until he gets tired of his algorithm and decides to watch yours. “ Get your big head out of the way,” you playfully push his wavy hair.
“ That’s not what you said this morning,” he laughs. He grabs your phone and places it on your side of the dresser, not forgetting to charge it.
“ Eww gross, Jungkook,” you fake gag but smiling at his bunny smile. His fingers take off your mask and toss it in the trash bin, he leans forward kissing your lips. “ I wasn’t finished with that,” you look at your mask, you still had ten more minutes.
“ Too bad,” he kisses you more. His tongue begging for entrance, and you immediately allow it feeling his tongue brush against yours, lost in the feeling of warmth. Jungkook pushes you to lay flat on your back, and goes between your legs, his hands feeling your bare stomach due from the shirt rising up. Jungkook pulls his head away, looking at you with sultry eyes.“ You look so pretty,” he comments, then traveling kisses down your neck, leaving small marks. “ I remember the first time I saw you in class, you had me already on my knees for you,” his voice muffled against your neck. He closes his eyes trying vividly to remember the exact outfit you were wearing.
Your hand trail to his hair combing it as he continues to suck and blow on the marks he is leaving. “ Yeah? I thought you were a prick. I still can’t believe you hit me with a volleyball to get my attention,” you laugh when he groans.
He immediately pulls away pouting, “ Okay I was an idiot to actually listen to Taehyung’s advice. Can we forget about it?,” he kisses you before you can answer. The kisses become more desperate, his hands going towards your boobs, fondling them. Being the person Jungkook is he burrows his head under your shirt, mouthing at your breast. Wrapping his mouth around your nipple, sucking it leaving you arching your back. His other hand twists and pinch the other nipple, then soothing it when his warm mouth wraps around it.
You want to see his face but it is covered by your shirt, so you just have to imagine his pouty lips sucking on your nipple and his pretty eyes looking content. Jungkook always liked to have his face stuffed between your breasts. Sometimes just doing it when he is bored, he says he likes feeling close to you and makes him feel some sense of comfort. At first you were taken aback when he confessed his kink to you but you grew to like it. “ Does my baby like sucking on my tits?,” you ask while quickly taking off your shirt, wanting to his face. “ Mmm,” he nods, not wanting to take his mouth off. His hair is on face, and you push it back exposing his forehead. Continuing to relish in this moment, you breathe heavy, and watch him suck. You get more wet within the seconds, wanting to relieve yourself at how turned on you are on. “ Jungkook, fuck me,” you moan when his hips grind against you. The hard on is giving you some sort of relief, as it rubs your covered privates.
His hand travels down your panties, rubbing his fingers against your now wet panties. Spreading it and teasing you from the actual experience of his fingers massaging your folds. He sucks on your nipples harder, but then switches to the other nipple to give it the same treatment. The sensation of his lips and fingers are overwhelming, making you moan and cry out in pleasure. “ I think I’m gonna come?” You don’t mean to question it but you do, never experiencing an orgasm just from nipple play and some light fondling. Maybe there’s something different about the air tonight but it feels so fucking good. He moans, the vibrations sending more pleasure, his other hand kneading at your other breast. Moaning his name you hold tight onto his hair, coming hard and riding the waves of pleasure.
Closing your eyes in disbelief, your body feels like you're floating in space. Jungkook's lips finally unwrap and look at the sight of your swollen erect nipples. The spit makes them look shiny and pretty. He looks at your angelic face, and kisses your lips, “ That was fucking hot,” he confesses. “ So fucking hot,” he tugs off your sort and panties. Immediately his fingers touch your folds loving how warm and wet they are, he pushes one finger in and you let content sigh. “ You like me sucking your tits huh?,” he asks even when he knows the answer. He puts another finger in your entrance, and thrusts it slowly, watching your hips move to try to speed the momentum. “ Answer me,” his face gives you a serious look.
“ Yes!,” you toss your head. “ I love it when you suck on them. It feels so good,” you close your eyes, and see little white stars. He chuckles at your desperate state, when your hands go to his, trying to get him to finger your faster and harder. Deciding to play along, he stops his movement and lets you take control of you using your hand to make his finger thrust into you. “ Jungkook, please just fuck me,” you whine at his teasing.
His fingers leave, and you watch him quickly take off his clothes, he uses your arousal pumping his hard cock and staring at your glistening cunt. “ I’ll fuck you, my dirty girl” he goes to search for a condom but you stop him.
“ You don’t need a condom,” you mindlessly say, you just want him inside of you already.
His eyes widened, “ Are you sure?,” he asks just in case. Your head nods quickly and pulls him down so you can kiss him. His cock enters you, stretching you from his girth, you moan into his mouth. He waits a couple of seconds until you urge him to continue, your legs wrap around his small waist that you are sometimes jealous of and make him thrust deeper in you. “ Fuck, baby,” his voice is deeper and brows furrowed at the intense pleasure he is recieving. This is the first time in his life he has ever entered you with no condom, he can’t think straight, he doesn’t ever want to leave this position.
Your hand traces his shoulder muscles, “ Does it feel good?” You ask with a teasing smile.
“ Yes, so fuck good,” he answers with a hard thrust. His hair goes into his sight of vision, and pushes it back, “ I’m going to have to only fuck this pussy raw,” he leans back, resting his weight on the back of his thick thighs, to see your whole body. Your breasts are moving and down at the intense speed he is going at, and your thighs jiggle at his hard thrust. And he really loves the sight, after this he might have to fuck your thighs and tits. He moves his hands to your tits and slaps it, leaving a few red hand marks.
More dirty thoughts are coming to his mind that he tries to push to the back of his mind but they can’t help be resurfaced. Like the thought of your tits being filled with breastmilk, he wonders what taste it would leave in his mouth. He likes to imagine it would taste like warm honey. He shakes his head looking somewhere else, but then imagines the thought of your stomach looking swollen and round. If you would hold onto your stomach and pat it like the pregnant women he sometimes sees at the grocery store. His thoughts are interrupted when you moan his name and beg him to touch your clit.
His hand easily finds your clit and rubs it as his thrust becomes more frantic. Your insides are warm and you could already feel your orgasm approaching. His cock hitting that specific place that makes your eyes roll back and toes curl. “ That’s it baby, come for me,” he commands. His fingers rub more quickly, making you cry out his name as you cream around his cock. He drops his body down kissing your neck, as you pulsate around him. “ Fuck, I’m close,” he groans, he can feel his thighs clench tightly.
“ Come inside me baby,” you moan into his ear, “ fill me up,” you bite his ear lobe. When those words came out of your lips, his mind went haywire thinking of your pussy being filled with his sperm. Within three more thrust he came inside you, moaning your name as empties himself into you. He lifts his body off of you eager to see the image he was wishing for, pulling his cock he watches as the come spills out of your entrance, his finger automatically pushes it back in not wanting to waste any, watching the hole swallow the white substance.
A surprised moan leaves your lips, not sure if it was the feeling of him pushing his own come into you or the way his eyes are darkly looking at your cunt. You close your legs before he can do anything else, “ It’s a good thing, I’m on the pill,” you get up and use the toilet. Jungkook doesn’t say anything, only letting out a soft hum, and putting on the underwear on the floor. He walks into the bathroom, watching you wash your body quickly, he hands you a towel and you kiss him on the cheek. “ So today was a disaster,” you put on panties and a Jungkook’s big shirt. You were still not over the fact that your mom thought you were pregnant.
“ Maybe I shouldn’t give you flowers on mother’s day anymore,” Jungkook chuckles, entering inside the sheets of the bed.
“ I mean you don’t have to worry about that,” you laugh. “ It’s not like we are ever going to actually celebrate mother’s day together,” you comment, also laying on the bed.
Jungkook bites his tongue, wondering if this is the time to actually talk about the future. It makes him wonder if you ever want to have kids with him. Sometimes it hurts when he tries to talk about it but then you switch the conversation. “ Can I confess something?” He asks looking at you, and you smile and nod. “ When your mom said you were pregnant, a small part of me wished that was true,” he whispers even though there’s only the two of you in the room.
Your eyes widen, not sure on what to say. “ I-why?”
“ I want to have kids with you. Not right now but in the future when we have a house and maybe a swimming pool,” he looks carefully at your expression. But notices the immediate lack of eye contact, something you do when you're nervous or unsure of something.
“ Can we talk about this later?” You ask not wanting to roam in this specific topic.
Jungkook sighs and sits up, no longer in his comfortable position, “ No let's talk about it right now,” he looks at you still laying down. Frustrated that you aren’t saying anything after a minute past. “ Y/N, do you ever want kids?” He watches you sigh and also sit up.
You shrug, “ I don’t know. It’s something I don’t think about. Maybe?” It’s true though, when you were younger your friends would often talk about how much kids they want, and you would cringe. Like why were they already planning that when you guys are still in middle school? It’s something that you can’t imagine. “ Do you want kids?” You ask Jungkook who looks more serious than ever. You always thought that men didn’t really have the need to have kids, just only having them because that is what their partner wants. It’s something that society pushed towards you, like your mother was always the one taking care of you and your sisters while dad just sat on the couch and watched tv.
“ Yes, I want kids,” his answer is quick and confident. It’s not something he always wanted. For example, in high school the thought of having kids scared him. No one wants to raise a baby when they are barely solving calculus problems. And in college there was more freedom than ever, he could hop club to club with you and not need to worry if the baby is sleeping well. But when you guys graduated college and settled down in an apartment, he envisioned the idea of having little kids run around in the house. He knows you would be a wonderful mother, you are so caring and thoughtful with him.
There isn’t much to say, “ Cool,” you lay back down after fluffing your pillow.
The devil on his shoulder is urging him to stand his ground. “ Is that all your gonna say?,” Jungkook sighs loudly.
“ What else has to be said? You want kids and I’m still not sure if I want any,” you get up again sitting the same position as before. Can’t you guys talk about this after you get married and have a house?
“ No, you always do this. You always ignore what I want to talk about, even when you see me trying to make a peaceful conversation you turn the other cheek disregarding my feelings. Like when we were taking a shower, you totally shut me down,” his hands move faster as he speaks emphasizing on some words.
“ I don’t like talking about that stuff,” you scratch your arm getting frustrated too. “ The thought of having kids just weirds me out okay? You're like putting a kid in this shitty elitist world and saying ‘ hey now it’s your time to try to figure out life out, oh and you have to pay for health insurance and college while you're at it because the government doesn’t give a shit about you’,” you ramble.
“ Y/N, c’mon be serious. Why can't you be serious when we are talking about our future? Just like in college you didn’t want to live in the same apartment because you thought I would get tired of seeing everyday so you decided to share an apartment with another man, a fucking man” Jungkook is finally expressing the feelings he has been withholding, it’s pouring out of him like a leaking faucet.
“ Oh my god, that was like four years ago and you are barely bringing it up,” you claw at your hair. “ We just shared an apartment, it’s not like I was giving him good morning blowjobs. And I am being serious, can’t you see me talking about this to you right now. As much as I am uncomfortable talking about kids I am still speaking to you about it,” you get annoyed when he rolls his eyes.
“ I did talk to you about him but you shut me down-”
“ I was only roommates for him for four months, Jungkook.”
“ Doesn’t negate the fact you only care about your own feelings,” his eye twitches.
This is the biggest fight that has ever erupted and you know this isn’t going to end well. “ I fucking can’t stand you right now. I literally declined my full paid college scholarship to Berlin for you and you say that shit right now,” you feel your eyes watering not because you are sad because you cry when you get angry.
Jungkook scoffs, “ No, because you were scared to be in a new country without me. You didn’t want to lose me and got batshit suicidal when we took a two day break-” Jungkook didn’t mean the words to come out but they did. He could physically see the words coming out of his mouth and it makes him feel nauseous. The room is filled with tension and silence, and he can see the way your shoulders drop. “ Y/N-” he wants to apologize but it’s probably too late.
“ No, you’re right I do only care about myself. ” You let out a hollow laugh and wipe the tears streaming down your face, and lay down on your side not wanting to face him. Of course he had to stab your heart with the sharpest glass.
He doesn’t say anything but watches your back, he wants to wrap his arms around you and tell you that he’s a fucking a Grade A asshole and he’s sorry but he thinks that you don’t want to hear his voice. He gets up and turns off the lights, and lays back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The minutes pass by but he can’t go to sleep. His mind keeps replaying the argument.“ What if I can’t give you what you want? Is that going to be the end of us,” he hears you whisper. His head turns immediately, you’re still facing away from him. “ I keep thinking what if I am just holding you back, that I only care about my feelings. Like when you asked me to marry you in college and I said no because I wanted to wait until we graduated and have good jobs.”
Jungkook hands covers his eyes, “ I only want you, Y/N. I could care less about a wedding and baby. I think the reason why I’m wrapped into all that is because I’m scared that you don’t want any of that with me. That maybe you don’t see a future with me...I always have this dream, actually more like a nightmare, it starts off by you breaking up with me and then one day in the future I see you having a picnic with a faceless guy and you pregnant while playing with your other children,” Jungkook hears you rustling with the sheets, he takes his hand off and sees you staring at him. “ Stupid, huh?”
“ Yeah.” he laughs at your answer. “ It is stupid because it is very unrealistic. I would never break up with you, you are the only one for me. I love you, Jungkook. I love you so fucking much, you’re the only one in this entire universe that could truly make me happy.” Your hand grabs his and you caress it, leaving kisses on his knuckles. “ I don’t like thinking about the future because I know that everything I want and have is right in front me.” Jungkook finally turns to his side facing you and brings his large hand to your cheek caressing it.
“ I love you, so so so fucking much baby,” he brings his face close to you kissing your soft lips. He pulls away and tugs your body towards him so no space is left between you two. “ I love everything about you, all I can ever think about is you,” he whispers into your hair, hands rubbing up and down you back. Few minutes pass as you also lightly scratch his back with your nails making his body feel content and relaxed. “ Y/N, I want to apologize for the insensitive comment I made earlier. I can’t believe-”
“ Jungkook, it’s okay.” You breathe in his nice scent. “ We both said some things we didn’t mean, we’ll talk about it more in the morning” you kiss the mole on his neck. “ Let’s sleep. All that fighting made me tired,” you yawn and he chuckles.
“ Let’s not fight again,” he hugs you tighter, not wanting to leave your body. “ Can I suck on your titties? I can’t sleep right now,” Jungkook laughs when you immediately pinch his butt but your hand lifts your shirt up showing him your bare breast and he happily gleams at the sight.
Do not repost, translate, or alternate my work in any way, onto any platform. I do not take plagiarism lightly.
2K notes · View notes
rmverse · a day ago
jungkook and y/n go on a camping trip. jungkook forgets to bring a sleeping bag, so they have to squeeze into y/n's sleeping bag with them ❤️‍🔥
⇢ pairing: best friend!jungkook x reader ⇢ word count: 1.1k ⇢ warnings: tent sex !!!, unprotected sex, rough, a little spanking
Tumblr media
The realization dawned on him after it had already gotten completely dark and you had asked him to take the sleeping bags out of the car and put them in the tent while you packed some stuff away. He nervously looks at the sleeping bag that you had packed, eyes wide as he wracks his brain in search of a memory of him packing up his as well. Nope, not a single one.
He’s kinda wide eyed as he comes up to you, your sleeping back held to his chest, almost as if protecting himself from your upcoming wrath. You glance up from your phone, glance back down and then do a double take because he’s just standing there in front of you with a nervous smile.
“Jungkook,” you say warningly, locking your phone and putting it aside. “What did you do?”
“Literally, how hard is to just read the text I sent you of the list of things you need to bring? You didn’t even have to make a list, Jungkook,” you grumble, shifting in the tight space to make yourself comfortable next to him. “You just had to read it and check.”
“I already said I’m sorry, __,” he whines, shifting alongside you as well.
You weren’t really mad, you could never be actually mad at him. You were just…a bit nervous is all. Sharing a small sleeping bag with Jungkook was not on your to do list tonight, so you definitely weren’t mentally prepared to be pressed up against your hot as fuck best friend all throughout the next two nights of your small camping trip.
“Yeah, well, sorry’s won’t do you any good now, Jeon,” you huff, turning onto your back. “You’re stuck here with me.”
He shifts onto his side because his shoulders are too wide and it would be a tight fit for the both of you to lie on your back. God, why is he so close? His breath is hitting your face and it’s making you even more heated.
“I mean,” he murmurs. “’s not that bad.” He drapes an arm across your middle because there’s honestly nowhere else to put it, that’s what he tells himself. And there’s definitely no option but to press his front into your side. There’s nothing else he can do, he says to himself once again.
You glance at him out of the corner of your eyes, and you can tell that he’s looking at you. You really can’t handle looking his way, his face would be too close, so you slip your eyes shut with a soft ‘goodnight jungkook’.
It’s hot. It’s too hot. You don’t remember falling asleep at all, sleep suddenly overtook you. But you definitely don’t remember falling asleep like this. Not with you on your side, back to Jungkook, his front pressed flush to your body, and arms holding you so close to his body that there’s actually space left in the shared sleeping bag.
You kinda can’t breathe, lungs feeling like they’re running out of air, body extremely warm and overheated. And as if he can sense you, he shifts closer, tightens his arms, holds you tighter. His face buries itself into your hair and you feel like you’re on fucking cloud nine because your senses are overwhelmed with Jeon Jungkook.
You’re wide awake, unmoving, trying to figure out what the hell you were going to do and how the well you were supposed to go back to sleep with this god of a man clinging onto you like that. Until you feel it. It’s so gentle, barely there that you almost question your sanity for a second, but then it happens again. A small kiss pressed right to the base of your neck.
“J-jungkook?” Your voice is so low, a mere whisper, unsure if you were dreaming, or perhaps he was dreaming? But it happens again, this time firmer and it shoots tingles down your spine because it’s paired with a soft sigh breathed into your neck. His arms tighten once more.
“Fuck—fuck fuck fuck! Jungkook!”
It’s strange how things escalate. Jungkook forgot his sleeping back, you shared yours, he cuddled you in the middle of the night, kissed you on the neck twice, and now he’s fucking your brains out in the middle of nowhere. Bodies bare of any clothing, sweat glistening on your skin and making everything so slippery and sloppy. But you don’t care, he’s fucking you so good that you don’t care about anything at all. Nothing but his cock hitting places so deep inside of you that you’re crying out into the stuffy air of the tent.
“Shittt baby,” he groans. He spreads your thighs farther, tattooed hand gripping your thigh so tight it kind of hurts but in the most delicious way. “Wanted to fuck you for so—fuck—for so long.”
You cry out, eyes rolling back as his hips smack harshly against yours, bodies connecting loudly and creating the lewdest noises. He’s going hard, not holding back one bit. He looks like a starved man, drenched in sweat, hair matted down. You can’t see him very clearly, but just the silhouette of his body moving on top of yours is enough to have you gushing even more.
“Harder—ngh fuck harder! Oh—”
He’s got you on your hands and knees in a split second, strong palm colliding with your ass so harshly it has you jolting forward, but he’s pulling you back once again and sliding into you with so much ease it’s embarrassing. “Fuck yeah,” you cry out, back arching even more to stick your ass out further, face pressed down into the sleeping bag. “Yes! Don’t—don’t stop! Oh god please—”
Palms planted firmly into the ground on either side of your face, you watch his tattooed hand crumple the material of the sleeping bag in his fingers tightly as he slams his hips into your ass, cock drilling into your cunt so hard and so deep you’re sobbing out a broken cry. He fucks you so good, fucks you for who knows how long, grips your hair and spanks you repeatedly. Roughs you up so good and fucks you stupid. He has your tears slipping down as you drool onto the material of your sleeping bag as he jackhammers into you, rough hand stuffing itself beneath your body to rub your clit to push you over the edge.
He’s got you lying limp and shaking by the end of it, cradling your body into his arms and maneuvering you so that you’re lying half on top of him, eyes droopy as sleepiness is quick to make its way into your system once again while you cuddle up into him. You gather as much energy to say one last thing before your eyes slip shut.
“You better not have left your sleeping bag on purpose or I’ll kick your ass, Jeon.”
711 notes · View notes
taesinferno · 2 months ago
Tumblr media
summary: seven of the highest executives at BigHit Industries take a company business trip. Who knows what they'll get up to, or who they'll meet there.
rate: 18+
pairing: ot7 × reader
warnings: age gap (aged up bangtan), s2l, dom/sub dynamics, infidelity, pwp, explicit smut (different per chapter; warnings stated at the top of each)
status: completed
a/n: making this into a series bc i cant stop thinking abt them 😒 the hold they have on me is... sjsksl anyways lmk what you think! <3 + main m.list
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
noteguk · a month ago
bad romance | jjk | m
[ ! ] this is part of the bad influence collection. This part cannot be read as a stand-alone.
— summary; in which the two of you finally make it official. 
— contents and warnings; gross fluff, a bit of angst, smut, badboy!jungkook x goodgirl!reader, enemies to lovers, honestly emotionally constipated idiots to lovers, so much mutual pining, cinematic parallels, cute dates, a spark of jealousy/possiveness (mostly playful), the return of car sex, dirty talk, breast play, dom!jk x sub!reader, fingering, spitting, oral (female receiving), cum eating, semi-clothed sex, unprotected sex (don’t be dumb!!), a fuckton of praise kink bc jk is going through it, another glimpse into the demon that lives inside the oc lol, begging, mentions of marking (hickeys), creampie, cockwarming (you already know), jk is whipped and he’s not even hiding it anymore, it’s official ladies!!! 
— words; 18,4k
— author’s notes; here we are, champs!!! The moments of glory 😭 There are a lot of things being wrapped up in here so we can move onto the more interesting stuff, but there are also some points that will be brought up further down the line, so don’t worry! Everything will be explored in its rightful moment. Have fun at the eye of the hurricane y’all 🤠 
Tumblr media
There are some things we experience throughout life that, as simple as they may seem at first glance, stick with us forever, like bubblegum on the bottom of a shoe. As a young kid, you were first introduced to optical illusions after spending the day at your friend’s house — and, even after so many years, you still recalled your amazement and confusion; your expectant yelps and annoyed glances at his computer screen. Considering your age, it was normal to be bewildered at the notion that your senses and perceptions, which once seemed so concrete, could fool you just as easily as anything else. 
Mayhaps you were a few thousand years late in your genius discovery, taking into account that ancient philosophers had already discussed and established all that; perhaps your young brain wasn’t all that smart to construct those notions with such complexity. But the point wasn’t that: it was that the world in front of you was a matter of perspective, of finding the truth behind the curtain of your own interpretation. Sometimes you thought that two lines were the same size when they were not; that dots seemed to be moving when they were still; that two completely different shades of grey were actually the same all along. And you had to adapt to that. 
Life went on and, in a way, you always kept that in the back of your head — not about bright-colored illusions on a computer screen, of course, but about people. No matter how much you think you know someone, you never know their full truth (after all, most people barely know themselves, so perhaps it’s a bit too conceited to believe that you know another individual). It’s nothing new to claim that people can surprise you, either positively or negatively and, in your head, trying to predict that was the smallest resemblance of control you could achieve. So you learned to read them as well as you could and never ever created expectations. To you, trust issues were a tiny price to pay for staying one step ahead from a heartbreak. 
That being said, even the best of strategists still make mistakes — apparently no one ever learned not to invade Russia during the winter — and even the strongest walls can still show cracks in its foundation. Ironically, you had predicted it all, followed your life to the most minimal details, but could not avoid the large, powerful wave that hit your fortress head-first, knocking most of your preconceived notions down the moment you found someone that you couldn’t read. 
In a way, Jungkook was the most confusing optical illusion that you had ever come across. 
The thrilling and unforeseen ups and downs of your situationship with Jungkook were often hard to follow, but you still tried your best to do so. From the start he was inconsistent — hot and cold, harsh and tender; always left you seeking for more at the same time you tried to push him away. Every time you’d attempt to read him, imagine the thoughts that unfolded behind his dark eyes, you’d fall flat on your face. Every time you thought you were starting to understand him, he’d hit you with a curveball that would throw you in a loop. It was strange how you thought that you knew him so well, probably better than most people, and yet not well at all. 
In usual unpredictable fashion, Jungkook had called you earlier that day, right after you had just finished washing the dishes, with a proposal you never saw coming. It was a peaceful, chilly morning and, besides the sharp sound of your phone ringing, only the faint chirping of birds could be heard coming from the half-open window. Yongsun was sitting on the couch, her focus swimming in the ink of her newest thriller novel, and she didn’t notice the way your eyes widened when you picked up the phone and heard what he had to say. 
“Morning, princess,” Jungkook greeted, jumping straight to the point. “Are you free? Wanna go out with you.” 
“Today?” You asked, leaning your lower back against the cool counter. His choice of words was peculiar: go out. He had never used that before or, at least, not with such a casual tone. 
“Yeah,” he agreed promptly. “If you have plans we can try another day. But it’s sunny and I didn’t wanna miss my shot.” 
You cleared your throat, glimpsing out the window as if to check that it was, in fact, sunny. Your brain was out of excuses and the silence coming from the other side of the line was too loud, so you had no choice but to give in to the wills of your heart. “Hm. Yeah, sure,” you told him. “We can go out today.” 
“Great,” Jungkook beamed. “I’ll pick you up at one, baby. See you.”
And that was it. Before you could think about asking more details about his plans, the line was cut and you were left staring at your phone screen like an absolute idiot, trying to digest what just had happened. Go out. What a weird thing to say. It sounded like a date. 
Yongsun perked her head up like a meerkat, turning around on the couch so she could get a better look at you. “So…” she started, a smile already curling up on her lips. Her book was practically forgotten now, laying beside her, the page that she had been reading now flimsily marked by one of her perfectly manicured fingers. “I’m guessing you have plans.” 
“I might have,” you responded nonchalantly, locking your phone and placing it on the counter. When was the last time Jungkook asked you out? Even when he took you out for lunch or something, the request was always laced with second intentions. That sounded so odd. “Why?” 
She shrugged. Yongsun had been particularly interested in your romantic affairs ever since that night at Hoseok’s party, teasing you at every chance she got. She was curious, that much you knew, but you guessed that she was also a bit worried about all those secrets. Regardless, if that was the case, her cheerful tone did not let it show. “Oh, nothing, I just think it’s cute that you’re going out with the mystery man.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Has he asked for your hand in marriage yet?” 
You rolled your eyes. “It’s not like that,” you guaranteed. 
“Keep lying to yourself, girl,” she sang, waving her hand in a sign of dismissal. Yongsun had a strong tendency to romanticize things, and you were the opposite: one of your biggest flaws was that you over-rationalized things, found excuses and justifications where there were none. At that moment, both things were taking place, and her voice was like a demon whispering inside your head, making you consider her perspective. “Is he coming to pick you up?” Her smile only grew as you nodded. “Fantastic.” 
Like she had found what she had been searching for, Yongsun plopped back on the couch and returned to her book. Unbeknownst to her, you knew exactly what she was inferring — your gaze already navigating towards the large window across from you, and the open view it gave to the street below your apartment complex. If she wanted to, she could figure out who it was just by looking down and catching a glimpse of him. 
Strangely enough, the idea didn’t bother you as much as it once had. 
Part of you believed that, when Yongsun went to her spiritual retreat/cult, she ended up being cursed with a hundred years of bad luck. Besides being ten times more clumsy than usual, she was having more difficulty in class and almost every single time she tried to shower, the hot water would run out halfway through. That morning, she also was unlucky enough to be knocked out on the couch (courtesy of her post-lunch sleepiness) at the exact moment that Jungkook picked you up, missing one of her two chances of catching a glimpse of him. 
About one hour and a half later, her messages arrived in a furious and merciless wave, so constant that you had to silence your phone, turning the screen around and against your thigh so her flood of complaints and curses wouldn’t distract you from the beautiful scenery that blossomed all around the car. At the annoying rush of dinging sounds, however, Jungkook glimpsed at you, eyebrows furrowed. “What’s that about?” He asked, the previous subject long forgotten. 
You shook your head, gazing out of the window. The tall trees passed in a dazzling blur, expanding as far as your eyes could see. “Nothing much,” you told him, voice mingling with the vague tune playing in his car, and the tender gushing of the fresh wind. “Yongsun is having a bad day, that’s all.” 
“Don’t you wanna see if she’s, like, about to die or something?” 
You breathed out, thinking for a moment. “Hmm… not really. She’ll be fine.” 
Jungkook laughed. “What a terrible friend you are.” 
You leaned your head on your palm, elbow supported on the car door, staring him up and down. “Why do you care?”
“I don’t,” he admitted, “I just thought it could be funny to see her losing her mind.”
“Yongsun rarely loses her mind,” you counter-argumented. That was more of a Jisoo thing, honestly. You were about to say that when a little demon landed on your shoulder, reaching forward and whispering an evil idea to you. Usually it was Jungkook that wanted to stir up some shit when things were too calm between you two, but, that day, you felt like switching the roles in the name of karma. “But if you’re so curious about my messages… you know who texted me earlier today?” 
He glanced at you, curious. “Who?”
It was getting hard not to smile. “Jimin,” you said, noticing how his hands tightened around the wheel for a millisecond. If you weren’t looking for it, you would’ve never noticed it. “He asked me out on a date.” 
Okay, half truth: it wasn’t that same day, it was two days before. But it was much more dramatic to put it that way. 
“And?” Jungkook pressed on. 
You couldn’t hold it anymore, laughing at his serious expression. “And I’m telling you that because I knew you’d be fuming, you dumbass.” You pushed his shoulder playfully. “You know I don’t like him like that.” 
“Ha.” He said, flat. “I’m not fuming.”
“Aw come on.” You smiled. You were staring at him now, following the kaleidoscopic bursts of sunlight on his face as he focused on the road before him. The sun dripped amongst the leaves, mingling with the shadows of his features and dancing in his long black hair as it swirled in the faint breeze. Jungkook had mentioned he was thinking about dyeing it, but you liked the way it looked now. You’d like it anyway. “Don’t clench your jaw, that’s bad for your teeth,” you teased, tapping on his chin. “Told him I’m not interested, though. I had said that before, but I guess he was trying again.” You breathed out. “So I said that I was already seeing someone else. That worked.”
That comment managed to relax him straight away. “You just wanted to see me jealous? What for?” 
“Payback,” you claimed, triumphant. “Though that is kind of toxic behavior so it ends here. I just needed it for karmic balance.” 
“The fuck?” he asked. “Payback for what?”
You pouted. “Oh, you’re so innocent, aren’t you?” you teased him, doing the unspeakable and reaching out to pinch his cheek. Jungkook slapped your hand away before you managed to do that, but you still counted his annoyance as a victory. “I can see the halo over your head and everything… the birds are chirping… the purest soul around.”
Jungkook groaned, pushing his body back against the driver’s seat. “Shut up, my god,” he complained. One of his hands left the wheel and landed on the inside of your thigh; the warmness of his skin shooting fireworks inside your chest. “I asked you a question.” 
With a playful hum hanging on the tip of your tongue, you turned around, one arm leaning on the center console. “Wait, you thought I wouldn’t notice you trying to make me jealous that one day in the library?” You asked, watching as the hamster inside Jungkook’s head started running on its wheel, trying to find the memory he was looking for. “The one that Jisoo asked you two to shut up.”
His eyebrows shot up at the realization. “Ah. Yeah. That was funny.” He laughed, glimpsing at you. That road seemed to be endless, with only Jungkook’s car in it. You didn’t remember when was the last time you saw someone else around, but it was a rather peaceful moment. Just the two of you against the world. “Didn’t know it had worked.”
“I never said that.”
“It wouldn’t be a payback if it hadn’t.” He smirked, cocky, squeezing your inner thigh. Touché. “She was my lab partner. That’s it. I don't even remember her name.” 
You made a tisk sound. “And you were leading her on… how cruel.”
Jungkook raised his hand from your thigh, pointing a finger at you. “It wasn’t like that, I’m naturally flirty.” 
“No, you’re naturally irritating,” you corrected, grabbing his hand and putting it back in place. He squeezed your flesh once again, humming at your words. “Shameless, also. Nasty most of the time—” 
He scoffed. “You flatter me, princess.”
“—But not flirty,” you completed.
“Come on, baby, I’m totally flirty,” he wouldn’t relent so easily, especially when his ego was dangerously close to getting bruised. “I flirted with you.” 
You crossed your arms, looking him up and down. “You called me names and fucked me in a church.” 
“Right? And you don’t call that being flirty? It clearly worked,” Jungkook threw back, not an ounce of self-awareness in his arrogant tone. “Also, don’t mention the church thing as if you didn’t beg me to do it.”
“Not the point.” 
“Exactly the point,” he pressed on, stealing a glance at your irritated expression. It wasn’t for real, of course — most times when you two argued now, it was more of a playful thing than a serious back and forth. Jungkook couldn’t pinpoint when that change had occurred, but it was nice. “You’re equally irritating, shameless, and nasty. Sometimes more than me. You just confuse people about it.” 
“I’m not!” you said, knowing very well that you were lying. 
Jungkook sneered at your words. “Yeah, sure. If that helps you feel better, I can roleplay.” He paused. “Actually, I can do that in different contexts too.” 
You poked his cheek, completely ignoring his last comment. It wasn’t the time to unpack that. “You got jealous though,” you teased. 
He frowned. “Change the subject now.” 
Considering you had already gotten your desired reaction, you decided to give him a (temporary) break. “Fine.” You sighed, sitting back. The breeze coming from outside was a gentle caress on your face, bringing the faint smell of flowers. “So… where are we going, exactly?” 
“It’s, like, the fifth time you’re asking,” Jungkook groaned. 
“And you still haven’t answered,” you said. “I’ll keep asking unless you do, you know that.” 
He breathed out, finally cracking. Jungkook looked at his watch, realizing that the two of you would reach your destination rather soon, anyways, so he could stop with the suspense for now. “I wanna take you on a proper date. I’m tired of sneaking around.” He cleared his throat, eyes glued to the road. He suddenly felt very nervous. “It’s like… four cities away from campus, near the beach. No one you know will see us, probably. Is that alright?”
Out of the possible reactions he has conjured in his head, he didn’t expect you to burst out laughing. “I love that you ask me that when we’re already two hours deep into this road trip,” you teased. “But yeah. Sounds great, actually. I can’t believe you have good ideas every once in a while.” 
Jungkook frowned. “You’re really asking for me to turn this car around, aren’t you?”
“Not at all,” you beamed. “You’re trapped with me for the rest of the day now.” 
Once upon a time, that would sound like a nightmare to you — months back, when the two of you barely talked, and you prayed that he would text you a sleazy excuse and not show up to any future tutoring sessions. Months back, when you were still in denial that there was a person underneath all that trouble, all those sly smirks and witty, bitter remarks. 
Weeks back when you still pretended you weren’t in love with him. 
Ever since you (finally) accepted the fact that you had zero control over your emotions towards Jungkook, things had become both easier and harder to deal with. It was easy being with him — just playing with his hair and listening to him talk; kissing him; driving and talking about nothing. But it was a war inside your head: now every shared laughter hurt a bit more, every touch left you a little on edge. The falling-for-the-bad-boy fiasco was embarrassing in itself, but falling for someone who didn’t feel the same would be absolutely dreadful. Especially now that you couldn’t remember how your life was before he had showed up and turned it upside down. 
As if he was reading your mind, Jungkook responded, “That doesn’t sound so bad at all, princess.” 
Jungkook parked his car near a very beautiful square, which was a sharp difference considering the places the two of you used to frequent — or, rather, hide in. In your mind, it was surreal that you were actually on a date with the boy, being shamelessly out-there about a scenario that once terrified you so deeply. Honestly, the chances that you’d run into someone you knew (several cities away from campus, with summer break just around the corner and finals piling up) were slim, but not zero. 
However, you couldn’t care about it when Jungkook opened your door and took your hand in his. “You know what’s fucking insane?” He asked abruptly, pressing you against the side of the vehicle. His palm was warm against yours, just like the world around you. You never really liked summer that much, but you were starting to change your mind. “We’ve done so much, but we never just walked around holding hands.” 
You chuckled — putting it like that, yeah, the two of you were doing everything backwards. “Guess we never had the chance,” you said. “But there’s a first time for everything.” 
He breathed out, leaning in to place a kiss on your lips. You once thought that doing that in public would be horrendous, but now, all you could feel were the butterflies in your stomach. “Hopefully,” he said. “Now, let’s go. I wanna show you around.” 
Just like all-things-Jungkook, he still managed to surprise you after so long. Even with his tough exterior and cold stares, he ended up being a big advocate for public displays of affection. Jungkook could not let go of you even if his life depended on it, it seemed — always touching you in some way, playing with your fingers; or with his arm around your shoulders; a gentle kiss against your temple as you walked down the streets. If you stopped and thought about it, traveling through the land of memories, you could see some stark signs that his love language might be leaning more towards physical touch. You just thought it was something he did during intimate moments, and not all the time. 
Frankly, you weren’t complaining, but you were taking some time to get used to it.  During your previous relationship — a five-months-long catastrophe in your final year of high school — you realized that you weren’t super keen on being all touchy-feely, which was the spark for a few immature arguments back in the day. Years passed and you were more open when it came to Jungkook now, but there was still something that held you back a little, that didn’t let you relax all the way when he pulled you into a random hug, or stopped in the middle of his sentence so he could steal a kiss from your lips. 
Also like all-things-Jungkook, you guessed it was just a matter of time before you got used to it. 
About two hours after you two had arrived at that city, you managed to drag Jungkook towards a big, absurdly old-looking bookstore, ignoring his complaints as your eyes darted over the books in its interior. 
“It looks so cool, don’t you think?” You asked, finding his reflection on the glass. It was a funny contrast between the two of you — the pastel tones of your blouse and skirt battling against the dark shades of his pants, his boots, his tattoos. It just wasn’t worse because Jungkook had miraculously chosen a white shirt that day, otherwise you’d think that the two of you were from completely different worlds. “I bet they have some super old stuff.” 
Jungkook sighed. “You wanna go in, don’t you?” He asked, traces of annoyance at the back of his tone. 
“I might,” you said, turning your head to look at him. Lucky you (and unlucky Jungkook), you already had your puppy eyes locked and loaded. “Will you hate me?”
He sighed heavily, his bored stare flickering between your face and the dust accumulating inside the store. You didn’t even know the sacrifices he made for you. “Impossible,” Jungkook responded, “go before I change my mind.” 
You smooched his cheek. “Thank you!” 
Okay, maybe you were getting used to those public displays of affection already. 
The place smelled musty, as expected, and there was a thick layer of dust floating in the air; an allergy ready to strike. Against what it’s great exterior showed, the inside of the store was actually really small and packed with books, with you and Jungkook almost knocking a few piles over every time you turned a corner — nothing but another optical illusion to add to your list. 
Surprisingly enough, Jungkook didn’t complain as much as you had expected — instead limiting himself to a few grunts and scoffs as he looked through the endless lines of old, decaying books. Most of the time he kept it to himself, always maintaining you in his peripheral vision as you jumped from one story to the other. 
At some point, his arms wrapped around you, chest flushed against your back as he placed his head on your shoulder, looking down at the book in your hands. Jungkook smelled of coffee and cigarettes, his warmth was all that you could feel. “That looks old and boring,” he complained, nuzzling his nose against your neck. You hoped he didn’t feel the goosebumps spreading through your skin. “Want me to get it for you?” 
“No, I was just looking,” you told him, leaning back against his chest automatically. “I already have this book back at home, it’s really nice. I just never saw the first edition before. I don’t need another one.” 
Jungkook hummed, one hand reaching to turn it around so he could look at the cover — Clockwork Orange. He had heard that name before somewhere, probably another literature quiz he copied the answers for in high school. “You sure? Because it’s the third time you’re picking it up,” he said. You sighed, probably conjuring an excuse inside your mind, but he knew you better than that. He didn’t let you finish, tugging it away from your hands. “I’m getting it for you. And don’t whine about it.” 
You opened your mouth to argue, but you realized you were going to whine about it. In the end, Jungkook bought you that book, which earned him both another kiss on the cheek and a very annoyed look from you. He couldn’t understand you sometimes. 
“I think you’d like it, actually. It’ll fuel your anarchist spirit,” you told him when the two of you were already back on the sidewalks, your wandering eyes peeking at the bag in your hands. “Give it a shot one of these days.” 
Jungkook scoffed. “I don’t remember when was the last time I read for fun.” He paused. “Or ever.” 
“Doesn’t mean you can’t start doing it now. Summer is long, you’ll get bored eventually,” you counter-argumented, but he didn’t seem like he was going to crack. You pouted, pressing your shoulder against his. “Please? For me?”
Now, that was kind of a low hit. But it worked. “You’re pushing my limits here, princess,” he warned. 
But you weren’t relenting. “Please? It’s not even that long anyways.”
Jungkook didn’t know what it was, but he was especially pliant when it came to your requests that day (lie: he knew exactly why). “Fine,” he groaned. “But I’ll complain the entire time.”
You smiled. “Deal.” 
After walking around the town some more, the two of you eventually settled in a small diner near the beachside. The place was adorable, in typical 50’s style, and you two were one of the few people there — saved for three loud-speaking old men, and an overly-energetic family of five. Jungkook knew you liked to sit by the window, so he found the perfect spot in no time, which you appreciated endlessly. 
Subjects came and went, your food gradually vanished from your plates and, before you could tell, the day was showing signs of ending. Golden hour had arrived, bleeding past the widows and onto the diner’s floor; the buzzing of the town seemed to diminish considerably before rush hour. 
At some point, though, you noticed that Jungkook got distracted, his stare faltering and his mouth falling shut, lips pressed against one another. He was pushing his tongue against the inside of his cheek as he always did when he was trapped deep inside his mind. You reached out, placing your hands over his. “Jungkook,” you called, squeezing his fingers. He blinked his way back into reality, meeting your eyes straight away. With the bright sun coming from the dusty window, his irises had decayed into a clearer shade of brown. “What are you thinking about? You look constipated.” 
He scoffed. “You look constipated most of the time and I don’t comment about it.”
“You do, thought.” You stared at him. “And don’t avoid my question.” 
With a sigh, he leaned back against his seat, gaze flickering to your hands. Jungkook moved his around until your fingers were intertwined. “It’s like…” he hesitated, “Wish we could do this stuff back on campus. Go out or whatever.” He cleared his throat. “Like, out.”
There were traces of hurt in his tone that made you deflate, your heart skipping inside your chest. You had been thinking about it for some time, in different degrees of seriousness: about making it public, about not caring so much about what others thought. It was easier said than done, however, and the effects of your accumulated cowardice were corroding you like kerosene from the inside. “Yeah, I was thinking about that too,” you admitted, looking down at your hands. You knew the dark patterns on his skin by memory, your fingers so used to trailing it. You were never into tattoos before you met him. “We could tell them, you know,” 
He blinked, taken aback. “Who?”
You shrugged, still unable to meet his stare. “Everyone, anyone. I don’t know.” 
“You’re cool with that?” He asked, hesitant. 
You sighed, looking out of the window. Mental barriers can feel so physical sometimes, how strange. “It’s not that I’m… cool with it,” you told him. That would take a bit more adaptation. “I’m just tired of hiding.” 
Jungkook nodded. It was reassuring to know that you were on the same page on that, even if he had reached it a few months back. “Yeah, I get it,” he said, then found his thoughts coming to a sudden halt, hitting something else. There was a little bug of anxiety crawling in his insides for months now, biting down on his insecurities. He had never had trouble keeping secrets (in his mind, people didn’t need to know jackshit about his personal life), but, in a way, he had the hardest time keeping them from you. Especially when they could hurt you too. 
“What is it?” you asked, because he knew you would. “You’re distracted again.” 
Putting everything into perspective, his so-called secret wasn’t that bad, but, in his head, it was apocalypse-inducing. Jungkook hadn’t had the guts to tell you about his roommate's new discovery, fearing that you would lash out at him for being unable to keep it under the covers or, worse, fearing that you would blame him, accusing him of doing it on purpose to hurt you. He had created that tricky situation himself: if he had told you straight away, maybe it wouldn’t look so suspicious. But now that so long had passed, it was likely that you’d see that as an admission of his guilt. 
Once again: Jungkook was never the type to overthink, to assume the worst possible scenario when it came to such simple, mundane things. But when it came to the idea of losing you, he couldn’t help it. 
Still, he tried, deciding that your earlier comment about making it public was the closer he’d ever get to an opening. “There’s something you should probably know,” he started, fighting against the knot in his throat. “Just… don’t get pissed.” 
You frowned. “What is it?”  
And here goes nothing, he thought. “Taehyung knows.” 
You hesitated. Jungkook could practically see the cogs in your head turning, synapses working to make sense of that new, random piece of information. As previously stated, he expected you to start yelling at him, maybe accusing him of betraying your trust, but, instead, what came out of your mouth was a soft-spoken question. “You... told him? When?”
Jungkook shifted around on his seat, catching a glimpse of the happy family by your side — three overly-energetic kids fighting for the pack of sauce, and their parents trying to figure that battle out and end it with the least possible casualties. “Not exactly,” he admitted, looking back at you. “He kind of figured it out by himself. Back at the party. And I couldn’t lie about it, he knows me too well.” 
You nodded slowly, licking your lips. It was weird: how Jungkook could predict you extremely well at times and, at others, he completely missed the mark — which, thinking about it, was what had made him grow so interested in you. Maybe he wasn’t the only optical illusion around. “And… how did that turn out?” you wanted to know.
A puff of air left his nostrils as he recalled that fateful night. “He was in shock for like a week. It was pretty funny, actually, he wouldn't stop talking about it,” Jungkook told you. He had endured weeks of his roommate's meltdowns, floating between the need to talk to you, and the absolute horror of doing so. Taehyung had never been super at ease with you — he thought you were way too intense about stuff — and, after everything clicked in his head and he recalled the fact that you had tied Jungkook up, he didn’t want anything to do with you. Especially considering that he knew something he shouldn’t. “But he’s chill about it. I already made sure that he’s not gonna tell anyone. I don’t think anyone would believe him either.” 
In a way, Jungkook himself couldn’t believe it sometimes. Looking across the table now, watching as the orange sun caressed your cheeks, he was once again reminded of how different the two of you were. You were full of soft, round edges and pretty smiles; delicate fingers that seemed so unlike his own, calloused ones. He didn’t know why you were still around, didn’t know how he had gotten so lucky for so long. 
At his words, though, you frowned. “Tell me you didn’t threaten him with physical violence.”
“Okay.” Jungkook smirked. He had just pressed Taehyung against the wall, no biggie. He’d recover. “I won’t tell you.” 
You rolled your eyes. “Funny.” 
“I’m hilarious, actually. You just don’t appreciate me enough.” 
“Try giving me something to appreciate, then.” You paused, realizing your mistake the exact time that a glint of mischievousness appeared in his eyes. You raised one finger, slightly desperate. “Actually, no, shut up. Don’t say it. There are families in this diner.” 
Jungkook groaned. “Come on, baby, there is no way you can just say that and not expect a dirty joke.”
“It was my fault for creating expectations, sorry.” You decided to shut yourself up with a large gulp of your drink. The sweet taste had just entered your mouth when you recalled something else. “Hm!” You exclaimed, rushing to swallow your milkshake. “I have some good news, by the way.”
Jungkook raised his eyebrows. “Shoot.”
“I’m entering a new research project,” when you first spoke those words out loud, you were already expecting the expression of confusion and disgust that covered his face. You raised one hand, stopping him. “Spare me your comments, that’s only half of it.”
He leaned his head to the side. “And the part that interests me is...?”
You cleared your throat — suddenly, it felt a bit harder to speak. “Well... remember how you said that it would be hard to stay away for the entirety of summer break?” You recalled. Jungkook almost flinched at the memory — it was something he had confessed by mistake, provoked by the peaceful afterglow of his orgasm, and the gentle caresses of your fingers in his hair. You weren’t supposed to actually take that seriously, how embarrassing. “I’ll have to spend at least three to four extra weeks here, because I have to compile and organize a lot of data. Maybe more if I need to.” 
Actually, it was nice that you took that seriously — he changed his mind. 
“That’s… almost a month,” he mumbled, struggling to make sense of that new, fantastic piece of information. 
You nodded, taking another slip. Most of it had melted already, but it was still good. “Yeah, it’s a good amount of time, don’t you think?” 
It’s a fucking dream come true. “Sounds like it.”
You looked down at your milkshake, already almost at the bottom of the cup. The straw swirled around the cream once, twice, your distracted gaze mingling with the hum that fell from your throat. “After that I’m going home, though,” you told him, unaware that his heart had just decided to give him a free trial of arrhythmia. Talk about emotional rollercoasters. “And I’ll probably come back one week before class starts.”  
One month with you, almost two months apart — felt like both an amazing and a horrible deal, like Jungkook was about to sign a contract and sell his soul to the devil. Fame and riches during life, but eternal damnation in death. “I could visit you,” he offered, hopeful. 
You waved your hand, disregarding his words with a gentle smile on your face. “Don’t be silly, my hometown is like five hours away. And that’s during a good traffic day.” 
Jungkook would make the trip every single day if you asked him to. But he didn’t want to push. “Yeah,” he deflated. “That’s silly.” 
“Besides,” you continued, “I don’t think we’re in the meet the parents stage yet.” 
Yet? Wait, were you in any stage at all? Jungkook found himself a little dumbfounded at your comment, trying his best to fit it into reality. “I’m great with parents,” he blurted out, finding the disbelief in your semblance. He thought it would be better to change the subject before he fucked up big time. “You’re not bullshitting me about that summer thing, are you? I’ll have you all to myself for that long?” 
“Yeah, Yongsun will leave soon after the first week. She’s spending the summer at her rich aunt’s house.” And she actually asked you to go along, but you denied. Half because of the research project, half because of him. But he didn’t need to know that. “So you can come over whenever.” 
He wiggled his eyebrows. “Sleep over?”
Yes, please. “If you want.” You shrugged, nonchalant. The Oscars were missing out on your acting skills. “And you, are you planning on visiting your parents during summer?”
You wondered if it was a good idea to bring that up. Jungkook had mentioned that he didn’t have the best relationship with his family — they didn’t hate each other, but didn’t get along super well either. Like pieces of different puzzles thrown together, trying to fit. Regardless of how much you tried to get to know that part of his life, he usually changed the topic before you could do so, avoidant. You didn’t even think he’d answer that question. 
Jungkook cleared his throat. “Maybe. I’m thinking sometime around the end of summer break. I did that last time and it worked,” he said. “I’ll probably spend that middle part with Taehyung. He’s loaded and his house has a guest bedroom.” 
“Sounds like a plan.” You smiled. “I'm actually amazing with parents too.” 
Jungkook caught onto your provocation instantly — smirk already curling up on his lips — but his answer was an honest one. “Oh, no, I’m sure about it.” He scoffed. “Are you kidding me? I can see you all bonding already. They’ll make me an orphan and adopt you instead.” 
“Don’t be so dramatic,” you said. “And I hope you have fun with Taehyung. It’s nice that you two are so close — and for so long too. Not everyone has a friendship like that.” 
Frowning, he thought about what you said. Jungkook had never stopped to see it like that, Taehyung was always such a constant person in his life that he almost took him for granted. “Yeah, it’s crazy…” he drifted off. “He knows me better than I know myself sometimes. It’s weird.” 
You squeezed his hand before his mind could wander too far away from that diner. “Well, now you know how I feel when I’m with you.” You smiled. “Sometimes you tell me things that are so accurate that it scares me.” 
A puff of air escaped his nose, stare oscillating to your intertwined fingers. “I just pay attention, that’s all,” he mumbled. 
“I know you do,” you told him, tilting your head to the side. Your hand was so warm and soft in his that he never wanted to let it go. “Kook?”
He glanced up. “Yeah, baby?” 
“Just remembered something,” you started. “What was the place you wanted to take me to?”
Took him a couple seconds to shuffle around in his mind for that piece of information. Jungkook was so enthralled by your presence that he had frankly forgotten his previous plans for the day. At the realization, though, he looked out of the dusty diner window, eyes following the silhouettes of the strangers outside. “Ah, yeah, it’s almost time,” he said. “I’m glad you asked. Let’s go.” 
The food had already been paid for, so the two of you were outside in no time. The temperature had dropped a little ever since you walked into the diner, courtesy of the scorching sun going down, but there was still a nice warm atmosphere surrounding your bodies. There was a faint buzzing of cicadas in the distance and the air smelled sweet, a mixture of ten different food places at once. 
“You look cute,” he said abruptly, steps slowing down. “Wanna kiss you.” 
You giggled. “Thank you, and you can just kiss me, you know? No need to warn me.” 
Jungkook clicked his tongue, changing his direction without saying another word. Lucky for him, there was an alleyway right ahead, so all he had to do was to turn the corner to have you pressed against the wall. 
“Is this where you wanted to take me?” You teased, head leaning to the side as he caged your body with his. Your wandering hands slid up the sides of his arms, fingers tracing the black ink on his skin. “Doesn’t seem very romantic.”
He hummed, large hands landing on your hips. “Needed to make a quick stop.” He leaned in, lips brushing like feathers against yours. Your breath hitched in expectation, heartbeat thundering inside your chest. “Give me a minute.” 
Kissing Jungkook was pure muscle memory at that point. You didn’t even have to think when his lips met yours, hands flying to his shoulders as his strong arms wrapped around your waist; his large figure pressing you against the brick wall. It was almost poetic how you two had become so accustomed to each other’s mannerisms, like the fact that you knew he’d lean his head to the right side before he did, or that he would take one hand to cup your cheek, thumb grazing your skin. He sighed against the kiss, a pleased hum erupting from his chest as he placed his tongue inside your mouth. 
You pushed him away with a silly smile on your face, his nose bumping on yours. “Don’t make a scene, we’re in public.”
Jungkook smirked, taking in everything about you. He could’ve never guessed the two of you would get that far, but, at that moment, he couldn’t be more thankful for it. “Shut up, princess, that’s the good part about it,” he said before diving back in. 
The first step to solving a problem is acknowledging you have one — and you had already come to terms with the fact that your blockage when it came to what other people thought of you wasn’t only ruining the great moments you had (or could have had) with Jungkook, but it was also holding you back in general. 
If you stopped to think about it, you knew why that happened: you were projecting. It was easier to place your own insecurities and setbacks onto others, because then you could blame an external force for your own losses. It had never been about telling others, it was about admitting to yourself that maybe you had lost control over key parts in your life, maybe you were crazy about a person that you once saw as the lowest of the low. And that he was good to you, that he was one of the best things that had ever happened to you. 
The whole Taehyung fiasco was more of a pleasant outcome than a traumatic one — much to yours and Jungkook’s surprise. It was a shift in your foundation, a crack in the base of your preconceived notions that made you take a step back and analyze your situation all over again. Against what your chaotic, reptile brain had predicted, the world didn’t end when someone found out about you and Jungkook — actually, it stayed exactly the same. You didn’t know if it was just because you had not been directly exposed to it, or if it was because it was someone you didn’t have that much contact with, but it was just… fine. You were fine. 
That small spark catalyzed a flame of bravery inside your chest: maybe one day you could tell your friends, family, and to hell about what they thought about it. Because you liked (loved) Jungkook and that was enough. Because when he looked at you like he was looking like then, nothing else mattered. Because things would be fine.  
“Thank you for today,” you spoke, leaning onto the wooden fence that surrounded the pier. The sunset was a big pink and red bruise on the sky, painting the calm waves with deep shades of orange. The smell of the sea was overwhelming, cleaning you from the inside out. Jungkook had planned to take you there at sunset, and his timing had been perfect. “I loved it. Really.” 
Stil, you felt paralyzed, like you couldn’t really act out your desires. You wanted to tell everyone (which, on itself, was already a big jump from where you were a few months back), you wanted to kiss him openly and tell him that you loved him, and you wanted everything to be simple, easy, happy — fine. And maybe it would be. But the abysmal fall that you could take if everything went down the drain prevented you from taking that leap of faith. 
Being with Jungkook was easy, but falling for him clearly was not. 
“Me too,” he responded, eyes lost in the horizon. “It’s always nice being with you, especially when you don’t annoy me every five seconds.”
You scoffed. “Took the words straight out of my mouth.”  
He smiled, looking at you. “Why are you so quiet, by the way?” 
Uneasy, you shrugged. Jungkook had shot you right in the chest and was looking at you with gunpowder on his fingers, asking you what happened — why you were acting that way, so mild-mannered when you could barely keep your mouth shut before all that. Truth was, you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know how to talk like before without completely ruining it. Without speaking too much, and ending up confessing about those annoying butterflies that were madly hitting the walls of your stomach. 
“Just enjoying the view,” you said. 
He hummed, pulling you closer. “So am I.” 
But he was still looking at you. 
You thought that Jungkook felt the same — perhaps not as strongly, not as deeply, but he did. You didn’t miss the way that he held you, the worried messages he sent you when you vanished for a few days, absorbed by your own world and its ephemeral worries. You thought that accepting your feelings would be the hardest part, but it didn’t even come close to the horror of sharing them, of speaking that truth into the universe and dealing with the consequences of it. So you didn’t. 
And yet you had to say something.
As his arm tightened around you, you melted into his embrace, your head placed snugly against his broad chest. Jungkook’s heartbeat was slow against your ear, calming you down and mingling with the crashing of the waves. “Kook?” You called, voice soft like a whisper. 
He placed a kiss on the top of your head. “Mmh?”
You angled your head up, meeting his gaze. There was a warm sensation on your cheeks that you couldn’t get rid of. “I really like you, you know,” you said. 
Those words left you with much more ease than you had expected — not broken, mumbled or hidden. Just a clear, diaphanous truth dripping from your lips and curling around the air. It hit Jungkook right in the heart, wrapping around his soul and nestling inside his chest. 
He didn’t think he needed to respond, because he thought that it was quite obvious he felt the same, but he did it regardless. “I really like you too, baby.” He placed a kiss on your lips. If he could, he would never stop kissing you, but there was something he needed to ask. “Can I take you somewhere else tonight?”
It wasn’t that. But he’d manage it eventually. 
“As long as you don’t kill me and throw my body in a ditch, sure,” you joked.  
He smiled. “Don’t worry, that’s, like, third date material.” Jungkook kissed you again, unable to hold himself back. You giggled against his lips, the sound so pretty that he almost wanted to curse at the sunset for even trying to be more divine than you. He leaned back. “But for real. Can I?” 
You nodded, nose brushing against his. “Yeah, sure.”
“We should get back, then,” he said. “We have a few hours ahead of us.” 
There are some things we experience throughout life that, as simple as they may seem at first glance, stick with us forever, like bubblegum on the bottom of a shoe. 
Back in high school, Jungkook had a special difficulty when it came to maths — not because he didn’t get it, but because he didn’t practice. He snoozed through most of his classes, cheated his way to the end of the year, and didn’t bother opening his book. His mathematics knowledge was a polychromatic blurr at the dark corners of his head, a car zooming past too fast for him to actually read the license plate. In the middle of it all, however, there was one specific question that never left him alone. 
It was a simple logic problem — so simple, in fact, that his impulsive brain underestimated it. The question was direct, one of many alternatives that he should classify as true or false: a triangle has two sides, it said. Jungkook rolled his eyes, chuckled to himself, and kept reading the test after he had marked it as false. 
Taehyung, who somehow managed to be great at maths studying just as much as his friend, explained to Jungkook later that he was thinking about it all wrong. It was true, because if a triangle has three sides, it is logically correct to say it has two. If it has three, it also has two. It made sense, but it fucked up his worldview forever. 
He swallowed dry, looking at you by his side. Your fingers were intertwined in his, his thumb caressing the back of your hand as you went on about the weird conversation you had in the last gas station you two stopped in. He wasn’t paying much attention, though. As the cool, blue-ish lights of the tunnel melted over your face, his mind was sent somewhere else, going back and forth like a ping-pong ball.
Following his previous, math-guided trail of thought, his earlier confession wasn’t false: if Jungkook was in love with you, he also liked you. If he had three sides, he also had two. But he still felt like was omitting the truth. 
He took your hand and moved it closer to his face. With his eyes stuck on the road, measuring the curving motion of the car, he placed a kiss against the back of your hand. Not that he could just drop that confession on your lap. You liked him, but it didn’t mean that you’d take such a thing lightly, especially if you did not feel the same — and the last thing Jungkook wanted was to scare you away when he finally got you so close. Just because you had two sides, didn’t mean that you had three. 
You were still talking — Jungkook knew that you were talking; he could hear your saccharine voice reverberating at the corners of his mind, but he couldn’t concentrate on any of the words that left you. He had never been so nervous before. 
He had been considering it for some time now — the idea of making it official — and it had been the whole point of asking you out in such a dramatic, impulsive fashion. But when you were right there, with your hand so warm against his and a ghost of a smile on your lips, he couldn’t find the right way to ask you that. 
Basically, he had done and said everything he wanted to, but his main plan (which was to ask you to be his girlfriend) was completely disregarded, pushed aside by the trepidation that grew inside his heart. If Taehyung were there, Jungkook was sure he’d be mocking him for the absolute ridiculousness of it all: it seemed that, after every insane thing Jungkook had done in his life, what has finally got him stuck, paralyzed by fear, was you. 
Vulnerability was a fire burning deep inside, scorching his pride and collapsing his foundations. It came in small, manageable waves; the gradual raising of temperature so he didn’t realize he was being boiled alive until it was too late. It scared him, really. How emotionally attached he had become to you; how he couldn’t imagine his routine without you somewhere in it. Jungkook wasn’t used to having something (or someone) for so long, never applied himself to anything worthwhile before you. 
But he was trying. He swore he was. 
Back at the pier, your confession had put him at ease, gave him an injection of courage to try one more time. Jungkook decided to take you to one of his favorite spots in the world — on top of a hill, right at the outskirts of the city, where he could see the world shining below. It was a private place, outside of the main road, and he didn’t remember any other car showing up anytime he had gone there in the past. In his mind, it was the perfect amount of peacefulness after such a long day. And maybe it would help him steady himself as well. 
You sighed. “This place is so gorgeous.” 
Jungkook nodded, eyes lost somewhere beyond the windshield. Raindrops were covering his vision, surrounding the town like a ghostly halo. It was a beautiful sight, but also melancholic in its own way. “Looks better when it’s not raining, though,” he told you. “I come here with Taehyung sometimes.” 
You giggled. “So many words to say that you’re hotboxing out here.”
“Shut up, that’s only sometimes,” Jungkook told you, pushing your shoulder playfully. “Coming up here helps me think even if I don’t hotbox.” 
“Yeah I can see why,” you agreed, eyes navigating around the foggy world beyond his windshield. Everything seemed so small from up there, so mundane and manageable. “The rain is nice too.”
He hummed. “I’ll bring you up here again once it’s not raining.” 
You nodded, heart jumping at the thought of a next time. “Thank you for showing me this place, Kook. It must be very special to you.”
He chose not to answer that second part, instead reaching out for your hand once more. Jungkook was never particularly keen on holding hands, but, that day, it seemed that he couldn’t get enough of it. Of you. “I’m happy you like it.” Once again, he kissed the back of your hand. “We can stay for as long as you want, baby.” 
And so you did. 
If a time traveler had told you months back that Jeon Jungkook — of all fucking people — would be the easiest person in the world to talk to, you would’ve probably done something to change your future, because that just couldn’t be a good sign. Still, the universe works in mysterious ways, and you learned to accept its strange peculiarities when it came to the things or people that it decided to shove into your life. Sometimes you have to let go of the wheel to enjoy the drive — figuratively of course. 
Somewhere during your mindless conversation, the two of you had moved to the backseat, under the excuse that the trip had been long, and you needed to stretch out your legs. Being in that position, with the two of you side by side and squeezed into that limited space, took you on a small trip into the past — a faint recollection in which, months ago, you were slightly drunk and pouring out your insecurities to him, convincing yourself that there was no meaning behind that shameful spectacle. 
You were kind of an idiot when it came to stuff like that, however, and you were just starting to figure that out. No amount of book smarts managed to fight against your denial and the emotional pit of despair you had faced when you thought about having actual intimate moments with Jungkook, and about what they could mean. Months ago, you had convinced yourself that it meant nothing — but, now, with that bird eye’s view, you could tell that it always meant something. 
It had always been nice to be with Jungkook, with his smug smirk and the tender touches of his hand on your face, playing with your hair, sliding down your back. It had always been fun, spontaneous, fiery — always something that broke the monotony of your routine and made you have some much-deserved fun. You had spent so long convincing yourself that Jungkook was a bad influence on you that you never even noticed all the good changes he brought into your life. 
He had just pulled away from a kiss when your phone vibrated somewhere on the front seat — and it didn’t stop. Against Jungkook’s whiny protests, you fought your way around until you grabbed the device, then collapsed back into your previous position — with his arm around your shoulder and your head against his chest; both of you sat against the door of his car, legs intertwined on the seat. 
“It’s just Yongsun asking if I’m alive,” you told him, thumbs jumping over the keys on your phone. Jungkook didn’t know why you were telling him that because he could already see your screen — and the flood of texts that came with it, asking if you’d be home for dinner — but he also wasn’t paying much attention. The whole texting moment reminded him of the earlier conversation you two had, a spark of possessiveness spreading like wildfire inside him. “I’ll drop my location and ask her to come dig up my body later.” 
“Funny,” he said, voice flat. He sounded just as distracted as he was, and your ears perked up at that. You were just about to ask him what was bothering him when he told you himself. “No Jimin?” 
You turned your head to look at him, locking your phone. Yongsun could wait a little bit longer. “No Jimin,” you told him. Jungkook’s face was expressionless, you had no clue what he was thinking about. “I told you that—“ 
“Hmmm, yeah, yeah,” he disregarded, shuffling closer to you and removing the phone from your hands, placing it on the floor beside him. His backseat wasn’t the smallest, but it was hard to accommodate both of you — so, it was clear what he wanted you to do. “Heard all that.” 
With a bit of maneuvering, you leaned closer to him, still on his side, and threw one leg over his. Your hands were on his chest now, and your skirt has moved up enough so you could feel the side of his thigh pressing against your mound. “So… what’s the issue?” You asked. 
He sighed deeply, much more dramatic than he needed to be, and nuzzled his face against your neck. “No issue,” Jungkook mumbled, pressing a light kiss against your skin — only the first one, however, because they started to get progressively harsher, needier, as he moved closer to your face. 
You chuckled at his demeanor, surprised at how firm your voice came out. “Don’t believe you.” Your eyes closed as his mouth continued to kiss its way up your neck, tongue playing with your skin, teeth teasing it just slightly. You gasped when he brushed past a particularly sensitive spot, warning a soft grunt from him. “I was just joking earlier, you know, there’s no need to be jealous.” 
“I’m not jealous, princess,” he denied, finally reaching your cheek. Jungkook pulled on your hair so you could lean your head away from him, exposing more of you, and his mouth continued its path closer to your lips. “Not right now.” 
“Not now?” You echoed, interested. 
He finally found your lips, pecking them only once before pulling away. “Mhm. Not now,” Jungkook agreed, letting go of your hair. Took him a few seconds to speak up again, his mind more focused on the way his other hand slipped between your breasts, squeezing your waist before moving on to your ass. “How can I? When you’re mine.” Jungkook groped your ass, earning a soft whimper from you. “All mine, baby.” 
“Says who?” You teased. 
There were goosebumps on your legs that Jungkook didn’t miss, his fingers nonchalantly tracing the back of your thighs, adventuring beneath your skirt. “You.” He smirked. His focus seemed to shift constantly, wanting to have all of you at once. Now, his gaze found the curvature of your neck, a pleased noise leaving his throat. “Wanna mark you up, baby. You look so pretty with hickeys.” 
You gulped. “Not th—“
“Not there, I know,” he finished, taking his hand to your neck. He didn’t press down, but the sensation of his large fingers wrapping around your throat made your heart skip a beat. If he felt it, he didn’t show any reaction. “I won’t do it. But I wanna.” 
There was something dangerous about the husky quality of his tone, the way Jungkook was looking at you like a predator stalking its prey.  You bought yourself some time by leaning your head against his arm, skin touching the cold glass of the window. The drumming of the rain was never-ending, the shapes of the droplets reflecting on his serious features. “Why do you want to do that?” You asked softly, measuring his actions. 
Something told you that Jungkook was enhancing his reactions a little just to fuck with you (roleplaying, if you will). Yet, something switched inside your brain when he spoke out again. “So people know you’re mine.” His warm palm slithered up your neck, cupping your cheek once again. “So they don’t even try to approach my girl.” 
Maybe it was time to admit that you loved when he said stuff like that, exaggerated or not. You wanted it to be true, wanted to be his girl. “Is that why you did it that time?” You asked, unable to fight back against your smile. “Since when are you that possessive?” 
Jungkook breathed out, eyes stuck to the shape of your lips; to the way his thumb grazed them once, twice, until you parted them just slightly. “Not my fault you never noticed,” he sounded like he was about to get sidetracked, as if his mind was already focusing on something else. You let him change the subject. “Can you get home late, princess?”
“Yeah, I don’t have a curfew.” You chuckled. “Why?”
“No reason.” He followed as you took his hand in yours, repositioning it until it was resting on your waist. His stare remained there for a little longer, observing the curves of your body, the way your skirt had hiked up almost completely. “Just thinking.” 
It was your turn to pull him closer, fingers intertwining in his dark locks. Jungkook leaned into your touch, turning his face around so he could place a kiss against your palm. Maybe your heart melted, but he didn’t have to know that. “You don’t do that very often,” you joked. 
He didn’t follow it. “Only about important things,” Jungkook said, the hand that was on your hips now slithering up to your waist. With his other arm still around your shoulder and pressed against the car door, there wasn’t much that he could do, but you could see it in his eyes that he wanted to touch you more, harder, to pull you closer. There was such intensity under his gaze that your stare faltered, instead following the raindrops on the window. “Look at me, princess.” He called and you did. Jungkook sighed, leaning in. “Be good for me, alright?” 
Expectant, you nodded. Your eyes fluttered shut just as his lips met yours; tongue sliding inside your mouth right away, wasting no time. You knew Jungkook enough to learn how to recognize a few signs — and when he kissed you like that, so sloppy and deep, it meant that he had a one-track mind when it came to making you feel good, and he wouldn’t tiptoe around it too much. 
The confirmation for that small hypothesis of yours didn’t take long to arrive. You shuffled closer to him, breasts pressed against his broad chest and one of your legs hooked over his, and Jungkook took that opening as his cue. The arm that was around your shoulder moved to wrap around your waist, pulling your body closer as his other hand slid beneath your skirt, quickly finding what he was looking for. 
A desperate little whimper fell from your lips as his fingers pushed your panties aside, gently brushing between your soaked folds, towards your clit. Jungkook swallowed your moans as he started pressing down on your sensitive spot, his tongue playing with yours as your hands held onto the fabric of his white shirt. You could feel the drumming of his heart beneath your fingers, the raggedy quality of his breath as he groaned against your mouth. “Cute,” he mumbled as he pulled away. “Wanna eat you out. Lie down for me.” 
There wasn’t one single reality in which you’d deny him. After a small instant of struggling and fumbling around, you got to the position he requested, your upper back leaning against the door and your legs spread out on the seat. Jungkook was seated between them, his palms slithering up your calves, finding support on your knees as he leaned down. 
“Have I ever told you how much I love these skirts?” He asked. 
You chuckled. “Only a million times.”
He flicked the fabric over, exposing your panties to him. They were white, a perfect color to see the wet mark you had left on them. “Make that a million and one.” 
One of your hands pushed his hair away from his face. “I almost can’t wear them anymore, because of these.” You pointed down. 
Yeah, he had seen those already. His cock throbbed inside his pants when he saw all the hickeys he had previously left on the insides of your thighs; most of which had already started to fade. You prohibited him from marking you anywhere people could see, and Jungkook kind of liked that a lot more — it was his private spectacle, his skin-deep reminder that you were his, again and again. “So pretty, angel,” he mumbled. “All mine.” 
You smiled fondly. “You haven’t called me that in a long time.” 
“Hmmm yeah?” Jungkook pushed his body closer to your heat, trying to find a good position on the backseat. “Don’t know why. You’re such an angel.” He kissed your thigh. “My pretty angel.” 
Gently, his tongue came out to lick those marks, teeth biting down on your skin just enough to have you gasping above him. “Don’t tease,” you said — what was supposed to be a warning sounded more like a bargain, considering how airy your voice had become. 
“Aw, then it’s no fun.” He pouted, fingers hooking on either side of your panties. One of  his hands let the elastic go, a smirk blossoming on his features as it smacked back against your hips. “What do you want, baby? Let me take care of you.”
“Your mouth,” you told him with no hesitation, “and your fingers too.”
Jungkook chuckled, leaning in so he could place a kiss against your mound. You were so on edge that even that managed to evoke a shiver from you. “My girl’s greedy tonight,” he teased, voice deep. “But whatever she wants.” He finally removed your panties, throwing it on the front seat. “That stays with me.” 
“Pervert,” you teased. 
“For you, maybe,” Jungkook responded, eyes locked on your glistening folds. He separated them just slightly, watching the way your wetness clung onto his fingers, your legs jumping in expectation. “Stay still now, princess.” 
You did as he said, nails digging to the leather of the seat as Jungkook aligned himself with your pussy, letting the saliva accumulate in his mouth. You watched in awe as he let it fall, spit mixing with your juices, dripping down all over your pussy. “Told you that you’re nasty,” you said. 
Jungkook smirked like a devil, two of his fingers spreading his spit around. “You love it. You’re worse than me.” 
You bit your lip. “I’m not.” 
“No?” He raised one eyebrow. “You don’t like it messy, princess?”
Before you could respond, two of his fingers sunk in your pussy, shoving a bit of his saliva inside as well. You shivered at the feeling, walls fluttering around him as he started moving them in and out. 
Jungkook’s smile only grew, victorious. “That’s what I thought.” He reached closer, breath hitting your pussy as he spoke out. “Stay still.” 
His mouth was on you in no time, ripping a loud moan out of you. It wasn’t a mystery that Jungkook had almost an obsession when it came to eating you out, but it always surprised you how eager he was every time he did it, just moaning and grunting against your pussy as if your taste was the best thing he had ever experienced. “F-Fuck,” you cried out, back arching off the leather seat. “Feels s-so good, Kook.” 
He lived for your stuttering, raggedy praises; lived for your taste flooding his mouth. His fingers held onto your thighs harder, keeping you in place as he continued to lap around your folds; sucking your clit and teasing your entrance with his fingers before sinking back in. Jungkook was overcome with the need to see you, so he pulled back for a second so he could meet your heavy eyes. “Be louder for me, baby,” he husked. “Wanna hear how good I make you feel.” 
You gave him one, feverish nod before he was diving back in; licking you clean like his life depended on it. “J-Jungkook,” you called out, slightly dizzy already. “You’re so good. F-Feels so good.” 
In fact, it felt too good. It wasn’t rare for Jungkook to rip your orgasm out of you earlier than expected (which always inflated his ego for days after that), but, that night, you didn’t want it to end so soon. You could already feel the telltale signs of your high approaching and, as tempting as that was, you had different needs in mind. 
“Wait, wait.” You pulled on his hair, trying to get his mouth away from you. Jungkook, however, only went harder. “K-Kook, stop.” 
At that, you got his attention. He was breathing out heavily when he pulled away, his chin covered with your wetness. “What is it?”
“I…” you hesitated, fighting through the veil of dizziness in your mind. Jungkook thought that it was adorable how you got tongue-tied when you were close to cumming. It was a rare sight — one reserved only for him. “I... wanna cum on your cock.” 
That was like a punch in the gut, knocking the air out of his lungs. Jungkook could feel his cock throbbing at the sight of you — so overwhelmed, so wet — sounding so innocent when you asked for such a lewd thing. “Yeah?” He moved quickly, pushing his body away from yours so he could tug off his shirt. It fell somewhere behind him as he placed his face on your neck, voice muffled against your skin. “It’s so fucking hard for you, baby.” He squeezed your hips. “Never wanted to be inside you so fucking much.”
“Please,” you asked again, sounding so sweet and needy that Jungkook had to hold himself back from not fucking you right away. “Want you so much it hurts.” 
He growled against your flesh. “God, I wanna see you riding my cock so fucking bad,” Jungkook cursed, pressing himself against you. You mewled when you felt his erection on the inside of your thigh; his big cock fueling your lust even more. “Sit on my lap for me, baby.” 
Part of you had already guessed he was in that mood. When Jungkook was horny, he wanted to fuck you until you were crying; drilling in and out of you so hard and deep so that he was the only thing you could think about, his name the only thing you could say. But when Jungkook was really horny (as he was that night), there was nothing else in the world that satifistied him more than to watch you fucking yourself on his cock, using him however you wanted until you were sobbing out his name, cumming all over him. 
And you weren’t going to complain about that idea either. 
With a bit more maneuvering — you had yet to figure out if you enjoyed car sex or not — you finally found yourself sitting on top of his muscular thighs, your palms sliding up his toned arms, towards his chest. It was unfair how Jungkook was hot all around, with his Greek god figure and the black ink dancing in his skin; his messy dark hair and lustful gaze. You were doomed, and he pulled you into a hungry kiss before you could stare any further. 
Jungkook’s hands slid up the sides of your body, exploring the smoothness of your skin and dragging your blouse upwards. He groaned against your lips once his palms found the expanse of your breasts, hands squeezing on the flesh. It was annoying that you still had your bra on, but there was something so amazing about the little whimper you let out, about the way your back arched, body moving closer to his touch. You were always so good for him, always ready to give him whatever it was that he asked for. Always so sensitive to his most minimal of touches. 
Soon enough, you were breathing hard against his lips, pulling away so you could speak. “I’m so wet, Kook,” you said, your voice a timid whisper. “Just fuck me, please.” 
He groaned, squeezing your covered breasts once more. “Fuck, don’t say that,” he cursed out. You were never one to speak like that often so, when you did, he felt as if he needed a moment to compose himself. “You don’t know what that does to me.” 
You blinked those pretty eyes of yours at him, seeming so innocent but being anything but. “Why not? it’s true,” you teased, taking one hand beneath your skirt. Jungkook followed the movement, mesmerized, and thought that he was about to pass out when your fingers returned to his field of vision. “Look.” You pouted. 
A deep hum dripped past his lips, his hooded eyes watching as your fingers shimmered under the pale moonlight, covered by your arousal. He could feel himself salivating at the sight, wondering why the hell he had stopped eating you out in the first place. 
Still, he maintained his cool. Jungkook’s hand wrapped around your wrist, gently guiding your fingers closer to your mouth. “Taste yourself for me, baby,” he requested. His heartbeat was out of control as he witnessed your pouty lips opening up so your fingers could slip inside, the same tongue that he had just been caressing now licking yourself clean. “That’s it. Tastes good, right?” You nodded, fingers still pressed against your tongue. After another second, Jungkook removed your digits from your mouth, but his were already taking their place. “Now mine, baby,” he egged you on. 
Of course, you did as he requested, licking and sucking on his fingers until he was satisfied. 
Jungkook smirked, looking particularly hypnotized that night. “Good girl,” he praised under his breath, a maniac gaze swimming inside his eyes as he looked up at yours. “Good girls deserve rewards.” Lethargically, he started moving his fingers in and out of your mouth, his cock throbbing inside his pants at the small whimper that came from your throat. He wanted to see you sucking him off, worshiping him until he came all over your face, inside your mouth, on your chest. But what he needed was to be deep inside your pussy. “Want my cock?”
Again, you nodded, moaning around his digits. 
“Use your words, angel,” he teased, fingers leaving your mouth once again. Lately, it was rare to witness that cocky, annoying side of his, but, once it showed up, it was just like before. “Let me hear you.” 
“Yes, please,” you asked. 
He clicked his tongue, lowering his hand. You gasped when his saliva-covered fingers found your clit, circling it slowly. “Ask one more time.” Jungkook was impassive, not reacting to the way you squirmed above him, already so sensitive. “You can do better than that, baby.” 
You could never tell if you adored or despised when he got like that. Maybe both. Probably both. “Please, Kook, I want it so bad,” you begged. Through it all, you still had your own cards up your sleeve, some small actions you knew that affected him deeply. So you made good use of them: leaning in and placing a hot kiss against his lips, your hands tugging on his hair. Jungkook groaned against your mouth, his fingers stilling on your clit when you rolled your center against his erection. “Please,” you repeated, voice airy. “Let me ride you.” 
How could he possibly say no to that? 
“Fuck. Wanna see you bounce on it, baby.” Jungkook leaned back, quickly opening his zipper. You moved away just enough so he could pull his pants and underwear down, his cock stiff against his lower abdomen. “And hold your skirt up for me.” 
You pouted. “You don’t want me to take it off?” 
Jungkook shook his head, holding you by the chin and pulling you into another heated kiss. He moaned against it once you sat right over his cock, your warm wetness spreading all over him. He pulled away. “You know I love it when you ride me with a skirt on, princess. Looks like a sexy schoolgirl.”
A thousand pecks later, and you found a chance at speaking. “Pervert,” you repeated, smiling against the kiss. “You always do stuff like this.”
He hummed. “Yeah? Like what?”
“Like… fuck me with my skirt on,” you started, kissing down his neck, “Cum inside me and make me keep it inside all day. Eat it out of me.” Jungkook grew stiff beneath you, a grunt leaving his chest as you rolled your pussy against his cock one more time. “Cum inside me two, three times in a row.” You giggled. “Do you like stuffing me that much, Kook? Why is that?” 
He was obsessed with the idea, actually, just you talking about that was enough to make him dizzy with desire. Maybe it could be all trailed back to his possessive gene, the evil, cocky part of him that wanted to see you full of him, dripping with his cum, his fingerprints all over your body. What started as a simple ego thing — playing with your limits, seeing how far you’d let him go — was now a way for him to get a hold of you, to make you his, even if it was an ephemeral, material thing. And, well, yeah, maybe it was also still an ego thing. Maybe it made him super hard thinking that you were walking around with his cum inside you, dripping down your panties and making a mess all over your pussy. 
Instead of saying all that, however, Jungkook simply threw the question right back at you, “Don’t you like it when I do all that?”
“I do,” you admitted straight away, kissing his lips once, twice, barely giving him what he wanted before pulling away. He knew that glint in your eyes, and he had learned to hate it. “Not as much as you, though.” 
Still, Jungkook wouldn’t fall for your schemes that night. Sometimes he didn’t mind so much, but, then, he wouldn’t let you take the wheel no matter what. “Liar. You love it,” he threw back, wrapping one hand around his cock, the other propping you up over it. You got the cue instantly, lowering yourself so his crown brushed against your entrance. “What, you think I forgot how wet you get when I cum inside you? When you keep it in?” He smirked at the overwhelmed expression that monopolized your face, the hand on your hips pushing you down on his cock. He knew how to put you back in place, when necessary. “Look at this, I just cleaned you up and you’re already soaked again. So messy, baby.” 
You gasped when his tip sunk past your entrance, slowly stretching you out. “K-Kook—“
“Shhh, you got this.” One hand was in your hair, guiding your head closer to him. Weak, you could only follow his pull; feeling as he placed a gentle kiss against your lips. “Slow. Deep inside for me, baby. You got this.” 
With a nod, you did as he requested, gradually sinking lower and lower until his big cock filled you to the brim. You moaned out at the feeling, your arms wrapping around his shoulders for support as you tried to get used to it. 
Jungkook was breathing heavily then, his large palms cupping your ass, every cell of his body focused on the amazing way you squeezed around him. It was impossible to consider a reality in which you were not made for him, the way you two fit together was too good to be true. “That’s it… Just like that, baby,” he said, trying to fight back his moans. “Move for me?” 
The thought of mocking him about his request (considering that Jungkook was a big advocate for cockwarming as a teasing mechanism) crossed your mind, but you brushed it off almost instantly. You couldn’t overlook the need that grew inside you, begging you to fulfill it, to roll your hips against his until you were cumming.
So you did. Took you a few attempts to set a rhythm, body moving up and down as you felt his cock sink inside of you, brushing all your sensitive spots on its way out, then all the way back in. Maybe you should’ve gotten used to it by now, but every time still felt like the first. 
“L-Like this?” You asked. 
“Faster,” Jungkook breathed out. Maybe your thighs would burn like hell after your rush of adrenaline went away, but you didn’t care too much about it then — you did what he requested, picking up the pace. “Yeah, yeah, just like that. Fuck, that’s my girl.” 
You nodded, body overflowing with pleasure as you continued to ride him. That harsh, messy pace was a blessing to him, the way your breasts bounced close to his face pulling his attention instantly. 
“Doing so well for me, princess. So fucking perfect for my cock,” Jungkook praised, eyes running all over your body as you squirmed under his touches. There was no one else in his world but you; you and the overwhelming need he had to have your tits on display. He tugged on the hem of your top. “Can I?” 
You nodded, raising your arms so Jungkook could slide that piece of clothing off easily. His hands were quick to unclasp your bra, placing it on the seat next to him as he dove in to play with your breasts. “Love your tits, baby, so soft,” his voice was a muffled groan against your skin, tongue poking out against your nipple. “Love your ass.” He squeezed your cheeks, making you roll your hips against his cock harder. “Fucking love when you ride me.” 
“K-Kook,” you sobbed, I’m—“
He growled. “Love when you call me that.” 
Of course, he loved way more than that. Jungkook was a weak man — point blank, no excuses about it. He was weak about the way your warm walls clenched around his cock; lost himself in the overwhelmed nature of your expression as you rolled your hips down on his length. The world was always so enhanced when he was with you, every sentiment and sensation amplified every time he looked at you. 
The first times you fucked, it was just that, and he was fine with that — at the time. But, back then, Jungkook never noticed those small things about you with such clarity: the small puffs of air that escaped between your lips, the way your nails dug to his neck or the way you whined out his name. He never noticed how ridiculously pretty you looked, his personal angel, just losing yourself over and over for him. He liked having you on top because he couldn’t run away from those details even if he tried, so he let them consume him. 
The sound of you giggling brought him back straight away, however, his heart fluttering inside his chest. “You’re staring,” you told him. 
Jungkook smirked. “Hmmm… am I?” His hand moved your hair away from your face, cupping your cheek. You leaned into the touch and his thumb started caressing your skin, feeling the heat beneath his palm. If he concentrated hard enough, maybe he could remember that forever. “Can you blame me? Look how pretty my girl is.” 
“Your girl?” You asked, slightly delirious at that point. 
Soon enough, if he had the guts to ask you. “Yeah, all mine,” Jungkook responded, diving into that fantasy for a second — into a parallel universe where all his problems were gone, and you two were everything left in the world. “Come here.” His hand moved to the nape of your neck. “Wanna kiss you.” 
And you did, of course, because you were always just so good for him. Jungkook leaned his head to the side, fingers pulling on your hair as you opened your mouth for him, allowing for his tongue to meet yours. Once again, he felt his stomach being filled with that tingling anticipation, lust and tenderness battling inside it, begging for his attention. He couldn’t handle it: you were too much, always had been. 
Just like that, some forsaken feelings hit him before he could avoid them, before he could push them away any further. It was always like that: when he couldn’t deal with it, not when you were consuming every cell of his body and he could not ignore the effect you had on him. 
Again and again, those words were just ringing inside his head — I love you, I love you, I love you — repeating themselves into a maniac crescendo that drowned out his own thoughts. You were all that he could see, all that he could hear and touch; you were every idea that permeated his mind at that instant, chest overflowing with devotion to a point in which he couldn’t even speak. Especially not that. Not those words.
Not when you were so blissfully ignorant above him, not when the realization made him so fucking terrified that he just wanted to crawl into a ball and hide forever. Jungkook couldn’t grasp his reasoning anymore, he had long lost it. He was made of sheer, unadulterated emotion — a fierce battle between his blossoming love and the horrifying vulnerability unraveling inside his soul, promising to break him apart. 
He could not say that. Not now. Not when there was so much at risk. Not when he couldn’t even bring himself to ask you to be his girlfriend in the first place. 
So he didn’t — instead, he continued making out with you in a faithless attempt at shutting himself up.
You whined softly against his lips, your hands losing their strength on his shoulders. Your breathing was ragged, shallow; thighs starting to shake on either side of his body. Jungkook knew those signs like no one else, was quick to grip your ass tighter, helping you move. 
“Close, baby?” He breathed out, voice raspy, sounding like sin itself. “Gonna cum for me?” 
You nodded, nose brushing against his. “Y-Yeah. Almost there.” 
“Fuck, princess, your pussy’s so tight,” Jungkook cursed, closing his eyes for a second. He was a total goner: nothing could ever compare to the high he got when he was plunged deep inside your heat, breathing the same air as you. When his heart felt so full and so empty at the same time. “You sure you don’t wanna come over? Wanna fuck you all night.”
“C-can’t,” you struggled to get out, “have class in the morning.” 
He scoffed. Some things would never change. “How boring.” 
You rolled your eyes. “Next time maybe don't t-take me out on a Sunday, dumbass.” You tried to sound harsh, but it was impossible to ignore the tight grip you had on his cock as you cried out, movements stilling for just a second before you found the strength inside you to pick the pace back up. “K-Kook,” you stuttered, hooded eyes meeting his own. He loved when you called him that, made his heart burst inside his chest — and if you called him that while you were riding him then… well, then he was a dead man. “I’m gonna—“
“Gonna cum for me?” he completed, raising his hips slightly to meet your movements. His cock felt so good inside you, his ragged breaths were all that you could focus on. “Cum all over my cock, baby, wanna feel it.” 
There was nothing in the world you wanted more than that. You could feel your pleasure building up more and more inside you, ready to snap, and you simply followed it as you tipped over the edge. Jungkook loved the way you looked, the way you clenched around him, the way you cried out his name like a prayer when your body finally gave out and you came around his hard cock. He could replay that moment in his mind forever and never get tired of it.
It was by a miracle and the strong support of his hands on your hips that you didn’t just collapse against his chest, instead managing to keep a semi-constant pace on his cock — much slower, however. “Fuck, that’s it,” he moaned under his breath, his dark eyes running all over your body, trying to absorb everything about you: the bouncing of your breasts, the shaking of your thighs, the pretty frown on your features. “So good for me, baby, you always take my cock so well. My good girl.”
You nodded, still slightly dazed-out after your orgasm. Jungkook lived for moments like that, to see how fucked-out and pretty you looked when he was done with you. It made his cock throb inside you, threatening to spill over. 
“W-Want you to cum,” you stuttered. “Inside.” 
Jungkook was almost there already, barely hanging by a thread. “God, you’re fucking perfect.” He threw his head back against the seat, black hair falling all over his forehead, sweaty and sticking onto his skin. Jungkook was an image of perdition then, so hot that you couldn’t even think about anything else for a second. “Fuck, princess,” he moaned out, “you’re gonna make me cum.” 
Lately, his mind became a dangerous place when he was that close to his high, losing its filter and threatening to make him spill everything that was brewing inside his skull. Jungkook had to hold himself back with all the force he had left, but you could see it in his hooded, fucked-out gaze that there was so much that he wanted to say, so many broken words that got lost amidst his groans and moans. 
For better or for worse, he came before he had the chance to do so. Jungkook shivered beneath you as he cock released inside you, hands holding tightly to your ass as you milked his orgasm, moaning out your name as he filled you up. He could feel his cum dripping out of you, making a mess on him; could feel the way your pussy clenched around him, and it all was a piece of paradise reserved just for him. 
Once Jungkook reached his limit, he pulled you flushed against his chest, kissing your forehead. “You’re amazing,” he said, lost in your gaze. “Stay like this for me.” 
You brushed his sweaty hair away from his face. “You don’t wanna see it?” 
“Later,” he responded. “Wanna stay like this for now.” Jungkook shoved his face on the crook of your neck, smooching your skin as a long, delighted hum vibrated in his chest. “Can I see you tomorrow, baby?” He asked, voice muffled against your skin. “I can kick Taehyung out if you wanna come over.” 
You chuckled, placing your fingers in his hair. He leaned against your touch, silently begging you to play with it. “Yeah, sure,” you agreed. “I have class until three, though. And you don’t have to kick the poor boy out. Especially considering that he already knows.” 
Jungkook sighed at your response, his hands pulling you closer by the waist. Your back arched, his toned chest pressing against yours as his mouth started to assault your neck, running over the kisses and bites he had left before. “And the day after that?” He pressed on. 
Even though you had no idea where he was trying to go with that, you still complied. “Yeah, we can figure it out.” You smiled, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation of his mouth moving towards your jaw, your cheek, and then placing a kiss right on the corner of your lips. “Any day you want.” 
He smiled. “I like the way that sounds.” Leaning back, Jungkook looked at you and, just like that, all the monsters recoiled back under his bed. All his negative thoughts evanesced, and there was no doubt pestering his mind. He looked at you and he just realized that things were simple — and, all along, the two of you were just making it way harder than it should be. But he could change that now. “Baby?” He called, possessed by a newfound wave of bravery. “Can I ask you something?” 
“Yes, of course.” You nuzzled closer to him, placing a small kiss against his lips. Jungkook tried to deepen it, but you pulled away before he could manage to do so. That seemed to be a pattern between the two of you. “What is it? You got so serious all of a sudden.” 
His jaw clenched as he formulated his sentence: he had practiced a few times in his head, trying to find the best moment to let it loose, but it was ten times harder now that you were waiting for it. “Do you want to make it, you know, official?” The question left his mouth rather smoothly, much better than he had predicted. “You know. Us.” 
You blinked, shoulders falling as you digested his words. There was a fluttering in your heart that you did not miss, a sinking feeling in your stomach that left your body on edge. “Are… are you kidding?” You asked. Just to be sure. Just so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself with an overly-excited yes. 
Jungkook frowned. “Why would fucking I joke about that?” He threw back. You didn’t know. It just felt too good to be true. “No, I really fucking like you,” he went on, arms tightening around your lower body. “Want you to be mine. For real.” 
Now, Jungkook had seen basically all the expressions you could give, but he had never seen them change so fast. Your face went from disbelief to worry, to happiness and back to confusion; only to explode in a fit of laughter. “I cannot believe you.” You pressed your forehead against his shoulder, body bouncing up and down as you continued to laugh. “And is this how you ask me to be your girlfriend? Cock inside and all?” You leaned back, wiping a tear away from your cheek. “Jeon Jungkook, I swear to god… You’re so stupid.”
He smirked. “So I’m guessing that’s a yes?”
The urge to smack him across the head was overwhelming, but you held it back like a pro — you had months of practice. Instead, you placed both hands on either side of his face, keeping him in place. “See? You’re stupid,” you repeated, unable to fight the happiness in your tone. “It’s a yes, obviously.”
And you kissed him, because there was nothing else in the world to be done at that moment. 
Jungkook had to admit: he didn’t know shit about maths — and the little he did know, it was long forgotten after he had left high school. He wasn’t sure anymore, but he thought that something needed at least three sides to actually be a shape… or whatever it was that mathematicians referred to as. That’s why the triangle was the first of that weird sequence he had to memorize. And, therefore, maybe he was just too dumb to see the third side of you. 
Maybe you liked him way more than you led on. 
Turns out that Yongsun’s good luck had magically returned and you didn’t even know about it. 
The drive back to your place was sadly faster than you had anticipated and, about thirty minutes after you had floated your way up to cloud nine, Jungkook was parking in front of your apartment complex, putting an end to your first official date together. He kissed you goodbye (at least three times) before you got out of his car; promising once again that you’d figure out a way to see him the following day. Jungkook (in typical chaotic fashion) decided to keep your panties as a consolation prize regardless.
The front door had started making an awful creaking sound, and it signaled your arrival when you stepped into your apartment. You hummed at the delicious aroma that filled the warm atmosphere, leaning on the wall so you could remove your shoes. They collapsed against the floor, two small perturbations in that peaceful world. “Yongsun! That smells amazing, what is it?” You called out, but received no answer. Yongsun was probably distracted, as she often was when she was cooking. “I’ll be there in a second if you want some help!” 
After you went to your room and changed your clothes, you made your way to the kitchen, where you found her leaning over one large pot — spices in one hand, wooden spoon in the other — and her hair looking like it had been tied in a hurricane. The mess in the kitchen was absurd — with poorly-chopped vegetables thrown around; a dark puddle of sauce on the floor; and remnants of mustard on the back of her clothes. You had no idea how Yongsun managed to be so clumsy, but you couldn’t complain when she cooked so well. 
You crossed your arms as you arrived by her side, taking a peek inside the pot. “Hey, it smells great. What is it?” You repeated, before looking up at her. Yongsun looked awfully serious, the most you had seen during the years she had been your roommate, and that mere observation sunk like an anchor inside your stomach. “What happened?” 
In a way, you knew what had happened before she even started talking. It took you two seconds to remind yourself of the conversation you two had before you left, and another second to take a glimpse at the living room’s window, as if to check that it was still there. Yongsun liked to take breaks during cooking, walking around the place as the food boiled, and it wouldn’t surprise you if her timing had been precise enough to see something. 
Still, her following words caught you a little off guard. “You know Kim Taehyung? Last semester, I had this project with him. He talked so much we almost handed it in late.” 
You blinked — wait, had Taehyung told her something? Had he asked her something and she had just now connected the dots? “I remember that. You just never told me it was with Taehyung.”  
She hummed. “You know him?” 
You took a deep breath, trying to keep your emotions under control. There was an urge inside you to look through the window, review the possibility of Yongsun staring down the street and seeing who you were with — Jungkook hadn’t even left his car, so maybe she was going to mention something completely different. Still, you concentrated that energy into keeping your voice casual, under control. “Yeah, he’s in my ethics class. Why?” 
She nodded, finally meeting your stare. Yongsun didn’t look sad, mad, or anything in between, which confused you a little. “One time he told me about this roommate of his,” she continued casually, measuring your expressions. Of course she knew who it was. There was no way she didn’t. “Who fixed a Chevy Camaro ‘69 when he was in high school, he did it with his dad. Taehyung didn’t stop talking about how the car was super cool, and that he wanted to have a bonding experience like that with his own dad. He showed me a picture of it and everything.” 
“People talk a lot of personal stuff to you,” you deflected. Part of you wanted to tell her, you had thought about it so many times already, and yet you felt like you could barely move now, just waiting for that excruciating mystery to come to an end. 
“Happens when you study psych.” Yongsun sighed, pointing at something behind you. “Pass me the salt?” You had just grabbed it when she gave her killer shot. “Pretty sure you know who his roommate is. I think there’s only one person around campus with a car like that, and I just saw it dropping you off.” 
You laughed, dry, because that was all that your body could do at that point. It was a laugh of nervousness, of relief, of fear, of happiness. Everything and nothing at once. “Surprise, I guess,” you said, monotone. 
She elevated one eyebrow, grabbing the salt from your hands. Most people would measure it, but Yongsun had a weird sixth sense when it came to cooking, so she just threw a random amount inside the mixture before continuing. “Not a surprise, I think,” she told you. “I had my suspicions.” 
Uneasy, you nodded. You also had your suspicions that she knew who it might be, considering the comments she had dropped throughout the months; the way she had looked and talked to Jungkook back at Hoseok’s party. Nevertheless, you guessed she still hoped it was someone else. “You’re fine with that? You look like…”
Yongsun scoffed. “Fine is a strong word, honestly.” Her stare faltered, and suddenly staring at her nails seemed to be much more interesting than keeping a stable eye contact with you. She breathed out, constructing her words inside her head before looking back up. “I’m not your mom, ___. You do what you want, you go out with whoever you want.”
That wasn’t all. “But…?”
She sighed. “But, as your friend, I’m worried,” Yongsun admitted, the wooden spoon sliding between her fingers, bumping on the bottom of the pot. Her body relaxed all at once, glad that she was putting those words out. “You probably know why, maybe the same reason why you didn’t say anything to any of us. Jungkook isn’t really the best dude around and he’s just so… so much.” She shook her head. “You know the things people say about him, right? Do you really think it’s a good idea to get involved?” 
You licked your lips, taking a moment to think about your following words. You had imagined that conversation a billion times in your head, but it seemed otherwise from the way you were reacting. “I know what people say, but most of it isn’t true,” you told her. “Of course, he’s far from perfect. So am I. And I know it sounds really dumb and cliche when I say this, but he’s a really nice guy. He treats me well.” 
With a quick movement, she turned off the stove, reaching for the pot lid. “I have no doubt about that, girl. I told you that you seemed happy and I meant it,” she said. Her shoulders fell and you couldn’t really figure out what her expression meant. “___, I just… I don’t want you to get carried away by someone that isn’t worth it. You have so much ahead of you, I would hate to see you getting heartbroken or even just distracted because of him.” 
You placed one hand on her arm. “Yongsun, believe me when I say that I get it. A hundred percent,” you stressed. “We’ve both been in this… back and forth for a long time now. Exactly because I was thinking the same thing, and I was terrified I was doing something stupid that would end badly. But Jungkook’s great, really.” You breathed out. “I know it’s hard to believe that, it took me some time too. But I’m serious. There’s nothing to be worried about.” 
Against your best expectations, your small speech actually managed to settle her worries for now. Yongsun breathed out, relieved. “Good, okay,” she said. “Why didn’t you tell me anything?” 
You swallowed dry. “I was worried about what you guys would say. It’s dumb, I know,” you admitted. “And I guess I was lying to myself too.”
She nodded, taking a glimpse at the pot of food. You still had no clue what it was, but, at that point, that was the smallest of your concerns. “You know I’m a black belt in karate, right?” She asked randomly. “I can kick his ass if you want.” 
You laughed, finally allowing yourself to relax. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you guaranteed. You felt much lighter now, and you could tell that she was going through the same. You didn’t know how much that secret had been killing you inside until you finally let it loose. “Thank you for understanding, Yongsun. I was afraid you and Jisoo would hate me for it.” 
She shook her head, a puff of air leaving her nose. “Honestly, girl, I don’t understand it. At all. But I trust you,” she stressed. That was probably the best scenario you could get out of that. “I can’t guarantee that Jisoo will have the same reaction, though. She hates the guy.” 
Oddly enough, having Yongsun speaking your worries out loud didn’t affect you as much as you had expected. Jisoo had been the central line that connected the web of anxiety inside your head and, yet, she seemed like a distant issue now. She was your best friend and you loved her to death, that hadn’t changed a bit, and still, your perspective had switched enough for you to notice that she was probably the least qualified person in the world to judge you for your impulsive actions. Not when you had to take care of her in Hoseok’s party because she couldn’t make her own decisions; because she was afraid of the social backlash of placing her own limits. And, ironically, you were doing the same thing when it came to her. 
You had already reached a conclusion about what to do about it. “I’ll tell her after summer break,” you shared your idea, “I think she’ll understand if I talk to her about it. Or at least she won’t be so mad about it.” 
“That might work.” Yongsun nodded, thinking for a second. “Well, it’s better than if she figures it out by herself. She’d be really upset.” 
Upset was an understatement, but whatever. “Yeah, that’d be the worst case scenario, but it won’t happen,” you were firm in your words. “I’m like a pro at sneaking around.”
Her expression was washed by disbelief. Yongsun scoffed, grabbing a towel nearby so she could remove the pot from the stove. “Girl, I disagree,” she said, walking towards the kitchen table. She was a small girl, but her cooking superpowers worked wonders when it came to transporting food around. “I’ve heard too much.”
You paused, unable to fight the smile that grew on your lips. “Oh… yeah, that was on purpose.” 
The pot almost tipped over (which would have undoubtedly been a catastrophe) when Yongsun dropped it on the table, surprised. “What?!” She exclaimed, horrified. 
You waved her worries away. “Long story,” you said. 
She shook her head, possessed by chaos. “No, girl, you’re not going to zoom past that like you didn’t just say it. It's dinner time and you’re not running away from my yakisoba.” Oh so that was what the food was. Yongsun pointed at one of the chairs while she walked towards the other. “Sit your ass down. You have months of gossip to tell me.” 
You raised one eyebrow. “During dinner?” You asked. “Are you sure?” 
She huffed. “I have a strong stomach. Go ahead, try me.” 
You shrugged, sitting down. To be fair, she didn’t know what she was asking for. “Fine. What do you want to know?” 
Spoiler: Yongsun did not have a strong stomach. 
2K notes · View notes
balenciaguks · 14 days ago
kintsukuroi: sweet treat | jjk (m)
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
kintsukuroi (keen-tsoo-koo-roy) ; “to repair with gold”; the art of repairing broken pottery with gold lacquer and understanding that the piece is more beautiful for having been broken. 
❀ ⇢ pairing: jjk x f!reader
❀ ⇢ genre: fluff, smut, established relationship, newly married, parents.
❀ ⇢ word count: 3.1k
❀ ⇢ rating: 18+, explicit
❀ ⇢ summary: newly married and swept away by how in love they truly are with each other, jungkook shows you just how much he loves you.
❀ ⇢ warnings: parent!koo, sub!reader, soft dom!jungkook, mentions of jungkooks tattoos and piercings (yes this gets its own warning, hes dangerous), swearing, hickies, dirty talk, kitchen/dining room sex, smut in the form of - slight fingering, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (be safe hgshdfsjhd), pregnancy kink, creampie, cock warming, mentions of aftercare because im a total sap at heart. 
❀ ⇢ a/n: this is just an opening drabble for “kintsukuroi” which I have been working on endlessly for the last 3 months. I wanted to give a small insight into oc x jungkook before I release the main story. This was written in 4 hours when the idea just suddenly edged its way into my mind. thank you @taegularities​ for taking the time out to beta this♡ 
Tumblr media
You had never been an ‘I love you’ kind of person. You were never the type to believe that a man and woman were destined to be bound together by the law of marriage, and you certainly didn’t think that the woman had to stay home to cook and clean and cater to the children while the man went to work.
You never believed in the traditional ways of life. You were a powerful woman. Independent and headstrong, you didn’t need a man to get you by, you did just fine on your own.
And then you met Jungkook.
Something inside you shifted the day he strutted his way into your office equipped with an attitude that demanded attention and a smile cocky enough to match. His aura was definitely captivating. You knew of Jungkook, of course you did. Some hotshot lawyer to your rival firm, known for being the youngest in the field at just twenty-one years old, with an ego more inflated than a helium balloon.
And quite rightly so.
His case win tally was certainly impressive for someone of his age. Popularity surrounded the young man, rising with each win he sealed under his belt, but what Jungkook didn’t realise when he burst through your door, having guaranteed himself his own victory, was that he had met his own match. Walking into the dragon’s den a little too comfortably for your liking.
You don’t play nice. You don’t see the need to in a career that was already so male dominated. You never back down from a fight and you certainly wouldn’t let an airhead stand in your way. 
But it seemed that fate wanted to see the both of you brought together by its own design, because Jeon Jungkook himself was no match for you in the courtroom.
You were his first loss. 
But you were his biggest win, too.
Tumblr media
“Is that Ji-eun down for the night?” you ask as Jungkook saunters into the dining room, eyes slightly tired from the task of putting your restless little girl down.
Jungkook nods, humming a small ‘yes’ in your direction as he starts picking up placemats to set the table with.
“She definitely has an attitude problem. Must be the troublesome twosomes, as they say,” he jokes, but the smile doesn't reach his weary eyes.
Raising your eyebrow, you try to stifle a small chuckle. “Oh yeah? And who says that?” you retaliate back his way.
“Me. I say that. She definitely gets it from you,” Jungkook winks.
“Oh, really?” You grin. “Well, it’s nice to hear she’s inherited something from me - she’s basically a carbon copy of you at this rate.”
It’s Jungkook’s turn to laugh at your comment. You weren’t wrong though. Ji-eun takes after her dad in every way. From her perfectly shaped sloped nose and her dark curly hair that bounces with every step she takes. Her eyes have the same warmth that Jungkook possesses, the same dark gentle doe eyes that with just one look would have you wrapped around her little fingers.
Turning around at the sound of his chuckle, you walk over to Jungkook who is leaning up against the kitchen island, watching you put the finishing touches to dinner. Standing on your tippy toes, you reach up and grab at his cheeks, squishing them together with your pointer finger and thumb as you stare into his starry eyes. “I don’t know what you’re laughing at, if she’s possessing my attitude, she’ll be able to take you on just like her mother did.”
Placing one hand up to his chest and the other on your shoulder, Jungkook doubles over teasingly. “Ooh __, hitting me where it hurts most.” He fakes. To this day, you’re still the only person he has lost to in a courtroom battle, all down to your confident, feisty attitude and fiery personality.
Rolling your eyes, you turn to leave Jungkook’s side. As you begin to walk away, Jungkook's hand traces the skin on your arm until he gets to your wrist, bracing it in a gentle grip and pulling you back into his arms, kissing you sweetly.
You give him the satisfaction of the kiss, reciprocating his actions just as sweetly. “You’re still such an ass,” you smile into the kiss, “set the table, otherwise no dessert for you.”
Tumblr media
Getting up from the dining table, you make your way round picking up empty plates and dirty crockery as your husband finishes his last mouthful of food.
“I’ll get the dishes done, you’ve had a long day baby, so you just relax,” you say softly.
“Don’t deserve you” Jungkook announces after swallowing his food and taking a last swig of his wine, “I really don’t deserve you.”
Bending down, you place a small kiss on the crown of his head; a small but affectionate action Jungkook loves.
You make your way into the kitchen, careful not to drop anything on the way as you settle the dishes on the countertop as you begin to run the hot tap, leaving it to run to the ideal temperature.
Jungkook is hot on your tail, wine glass in hand as he leans slightly against the doorframe admiring you. It hasn’t been long since the two of you had finally gotten round to getting married.
Unconventionally, you unexpectedly ran into the hurdle of having your daughter before getting married. It’s been around three months and time has flown by so quickly these last few months that you honestly don’t remember much.
You’re startled when you see an empty wine glass come into your vision from underneath you and shortly afterwards, a pair of hands wrap around your waist as you start cleaning the sauce from the white ceramic.
“What is it?” you giggle.
Jungkook dips his head down, placing small kisses in the crook of your neck. The feeling of his hair tickles the side of your head, causing you to chuckle further.
“Mm nothing. Just thought I’d tell you how pretty you look,” Jungkook coos as he continues to place kisses on your neck and shoulders, deepening them the further down he goes.
Kisses turn into bites and nibbles as he sucks on the sensitive skin. A hue of red and violet blossom on your skin. They look beautiful. You make them look beautiful.
“Jungkook, please,” you moan, although not sure for what; as you place the dirty dish back into the soapy water in the sink. Turning around in his hold, you peer up and take in the sight of him.
He is gorgeous, in every sense of the word. His hair has grown tremendously over the last few months, dripping droplets of water down his golden honey skin as it rests flat against his forehead from his earlier shower. A crisp all black vest hugging his upper body, allowing you front row seats to ogle and admire the ink swirled across his right arm. Intricate black and white shapes, texts and quotes of all sizes covering the expansion of his arm, finishing just atop his shoulder. He truly is a sight for sore eyes. And he’s all yours.
Jungkook looks down at you, studying your face with a soft smile as you wrap your arms around his neck. Jungkook brings his hand to the back of your head to push your lips onto his. You’re so pliant and easily melt into his embrace as you reach up to cup his jaw, pulling him down for a kiss.
He kisses you passionately. His lips are warm, soft and taste like your strawberry flavoured lip balm. Your hands creep up, one finding the nape of his neck whilst the other tangles in his hair. Your nails tug at the crown, scraping your nails gently against his scalp and earning a gasp from him, giving you plenty of time to sneak your tongue into his mouth. The smacking and lewd sounds of your kisses fill up the empty room.
“Jump,” he commands in between hot kisses.
Doing as you’re told, you jump into your husband’s arms, allowing him to guide you through the living room back into the dining room, moving the remaining placemats out the way and setting you down onto the table.
“Here?” you whisper, voice light and airy.
Jungkook pulls away from your lips. “No time. Wanna fuck you now and don’t want Ji-eun waking up,” he moans huskily, the murmur of his voice leaving a home of goose bumps on your skin as he continues to leave a trail of wet kisses down the length of your neck.
You move your head just enough to come in direct contact with his pierced lobe. They’re so pretty. You’ve seen them decorated in all sorts of ways. Little silver studs, black hoops, dangly multicoloured rings and the illustrious double forward helix he had. You’ve even had the privilege of witnessing a small black taper, the beginning of his ear stretching journey.
But the best of all that? His new orbit piercing. 
A simple dainty gold hoop, encrusted with small sparkling diamonds curling around his ear. Jungkook knew the effect it would have on you the moment the idea of getting it done came to him. And he was right: you thought the piercing was sinful. How a measly bit of metal could make someone look so fucking good was totally beyond you. 
Taking his lobe into your mouth, you suck on it lightly, knowing how much of a sensitive spot it is for him. You feel the tell tale sign of his arousal through his grey sweatpants as he presses himself right against where you want him most. The action of your mouth on his ear turning him on instantly.
“Yeah? You wanna fuck me right here on our dining table?” you whisper directly into his ear, dropping your voice lower and sexy, “you wanna be reminded of it every time we eat here, baby?”
Pulling back at the sound of your voice, Jungkook pushes you further back onto the table and slips his hands underneath his shirt that you had thrown on earlier in the day and removes it from your body. 
Your nipples feel the cool change in the air, hardening instantly as he starts to tug your panties down your legs. Dipping his head down to your cunt, Jungkook takes a long whiff, the smell of your own arousal clear and evident.
“Mm, bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, pretty? Every night at dinner, you’ll be reminded how much of a meal I can make from you,” Jungkook growls. You can’t see the smirk on his face, but you can definitely hear it in his voice.
He dips his hand in between your thighs, cupping your cunt in his hand. You tremble and whine with the contact, electric sparks running through your body. Jungkook takes his index and middle finger and runs it up and down the hood of your pussy, collecting the slick from inside your nether lips lips.
Bringing his digits up to his face, he becomes mesmerised with the transparent liquid sticking to his fingers. Jungkook separates his fingers and watches in awe as the stringy liquid binds his fingers together.
“Time for dessert I think,” he announces as he dips his head in between your thighs and licks a thick wet stripe along your pussy. A concoction of curse words fall from your lips as Jungkook’s tongue flicks your sensitive bud in a steady rhythm, adding fuel to the fire inside that was already alight.
“Oh - fuck,” you let out in a breathy moan. 
“Want you to look at me, pretty,” he groans from in between your thighs.
Propping yourself up on your elbows, you wince in pleasure as you find Jungkook already staring up at you through dark lashes. His usual mahogany coloured eyes are already darkened black as they fill with lust and love when he continues to suck and lick every drop of your essence.
You notice the flexing of Jungkook’s arms in your view, signalling your husband’s palming himself through his sweats. Your eyes flutter shut again, the knowledge of him rutting his clothed hard cock into his own hand sending your own hips rutting in pleasure. Fist tight in his long dark hair, you keep Jungkook still as you fuck yourself against his face, his tongue now circling inside you.
“You’re so gorgeous.” He whispers against your thigh, lightly biting on the flesh before he goes back to lick your pussy a few more times. “Look how needy your little cunt is, creaming my cock, isn’t it?”
“Ko-kook, want you. I-inside, please,” you plead with teary eyes, the thought of him taking you raw on the dining table and filling you with his thick cum making you clench.
Not one to keep you waiting a moment more, Jungkook removes his tongue from between your legs and comes back up for another kiss. Sinful tongues dancing a dirty tango, messily tangling against each other. The taste of yourself making you moan loudly against his lips.
Pulling his vest off, Jungkook quickly moves to pull his sweats down his legs and kicks them away, allowing his cock to stand at full attention.
Jungkook has the prettiest cock. Pink and long in length, falling short under his belly button and with just the right amount of girth to him too. Deep veins run up the expansion of the skin only to end at the red tip, pre-cum dripping from the head and travelling down his cock. Jungkook wraps a hand around his length and tugs at it, twisting the head at the end and smearing the pre-cum down his length to help lubricate. 
Guiding himself towards your entrance, you wrap your legs around his waist and push yourself onto his cock, feeling his tip sliding into you. Jungkook stops as the head of his cock breaches you, knowing that you still need a few seconds to adjust to his size.
Your eyes flutter shut and you allow your head to roll back. Taking that as confirmation, Jungkook slams the rest of his cock into you, filling you up to the brim until your hips are flush together, balls pressed to your ass and deep moans escaping both of your lips.
Jungkook’s pace is relentless, pumping in and out of you with ferocity as his cock grazes against your cervix over and over again. A beautiful symphony of incoherent sounds and broken sentences leave your lips, entwined with the lewd sound of his cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy filling the room; it’s music to his ears.
Jungkook is a sight to see - plump lips swollen from being bitten, sweat beading his skin and down his neck and hair sticking down to his forehead. You clench down experimentally, pulling a reaction from Jungkook as he licks his lips and groans as or swallows him whole.
“So wet, fuck,” Jungkook grunts, “wanna get you pregnant again, ah-fuck, see you swollen with another child-shit, gonna put a baby in you, huh? What do you say?” Jungkook growls.
You whimper, words caught in your throat as you lose all sanity, his words making you clench around him like it’s the one thing you were made to do.
“Hold on, baby, let me just-” he trails on, leaving his sentence unfinished as he slides out of you and pulls you off the table.
Jungkook turns you around and bends you over, pressing your tits flush against the table and lifting your ass in the air. Grabbing at one of your legs, he instructs you to place it on top of the table before he grips his cock and slides back in with no resistance, your pussy stretched out beautifully already by his earlier ministrations.
“Oh, shit, shit, shi-, Jungkook,” you scream out, not caring if the neighbours behind your shared walls can hear as the new position spreads you open wider for him. A part of you hopes they can hear you; hope they can hear just how well your husband fucks you.
You stand at full height, your chest flushed against his toned body and head resting upon his shoulder, trying in any way you can to watch his facial expressions as he continues his rough thrusts into your tight wet cunt.
His hands find purchase on your hips, controlling your movements as his cock fucks through your folds roughly; coaxing a low moan out of his own lips. His head falls low and captures your lips in a messy kiss as a hand circles round and gives your swollen clit some needed attention.
“Yes, yes, yes…” you chant over in between kisses, “I’m gonna c-come, J-jungko-”
“Yeah, you like that? Being fucked hard by my thick cock,” Jungkook grits, “never going to get enough of this tight pussy.” Each word is punctuated by a hard thrust, his cock kissing your g-spot unceremoniously.
Tears gather at your lower lash line, the tell tale of your oncoming orgasm present as your tummy tightens and your pussy clenches around Jungkook’s cock. Taking his bottom lip between his teeth, he growls when he feels your cunt spasm around him.
“Kook, I-I”, your words are cut short as you lower your head, a scream leaving your lips as the tight band in your stomach snaps, eyes snapping closed as your orgasm washes over you.
Jungkook’s thrusts become sloppy and less precise, a tell-tale sign that he is nearing his own end. “Fuck yes, give it to me,” he pants as he keeps you upright, still with one leg trembling on the table top.
Your pussy pulses repeatedly, gripping his cock inside you like a vice, and Jungkook slows down entirely as his own high reaches him. He bites down on your shoulder, his cries of pleasure caught in his mouth as he unloads thick rope after rope of his sticky white load inside your welcoming pussy. 
He presses wet open mouth kisses into your shoulders as he comes down from his own high. The feeling of your relaxed cunt keeping him warm.
You both stand there for a few moments together. His hands on your tummy, rubbing soothing circles on your skin. “Are you okay, baby?” His tone is soft in your ear.
“Hm. M’ tired” you try, too weak and fucked out to give a coherent answer.
“C’mon pretty. Let me run you a bath and I’ll finish cleaning the dishes, how does that sound?” Jungkook smiles behind you sheepishly.
Nodding your head, you remove Jungkook’s softening cock from your pussy, feeling his cum drip out and coat your thighs.
Your arms wrap around his neck as he picks you up bridal style and heads towards the bathroom to run you a well deserved bath. Stopping at the door, he leans his head down and presses a sweet kiss against your lips.
“You’re definitely the sweetest treat I could ask for.”
1K notes · View notes
1kook · 6 hours ago
funimation & procreation
Tumblr media
part 11 of my n&c series <3
SUMMARY Never mind your upcoming wedding, this was perhaps the greatest moment of your life— the day Jungkook sought out an anime on his own.  WARNINGS kissing, smut in the forms of cunnilingus, cum eating, mentions of anal, doggy style, unprotected sex with the intention of pregnancy, spitting, hand holding<3 MISC the wedding night, Doyeon strikes again, jjk watches  jjk, oh no not twins RATING m (18+) WC 9.1k 
NOTES (!) sorry for any typos T_T Tumblr played me as I was editing so I may have missed a few rip lmk !!!
Tumblr media
As far as schemes go, your track record hasn’t been the best these past few years. You blame it on Jungkook and all the time you spend around him, his sweetness slowly but surely withering away the ice surrounding your heart, turning you into this big sappy fool who you would have laughed at if you ever saw in public. Long ago, you had been the evil mastermind behind many a plan, crafting various acts of revenge against your friends’ shitty ex-lovers, sneaky escapes out of favors, over-the-top plots sure to fool just about any and everyone on this planet. 
These days, the juvenile spark that often fueled your evilness has all but disappeared, replaced with this sticky sweet feeling in your chest; in other words, you were happy. So goddam happy that it was genuinely concerning, to say the least, worrisome that someone as conniving as you could achieve this state. You were employed, loved, and healthy, all attributes that admittedly did not make for a classic villain, facts that swiftly called for your retirement from the world of schemes. 
If you had to narrow down the exact moment when you first begin to lose your evil touch, well, it was roughly about three years ago. A chilly spring evening, a blind date, a glass of wine. It was all supposed to be so simple; you would show up, expose Jeon Jungkook as a playboy, and then throw a glass of wine over him. 
Somehow, you end up marrying the man instead. 
But despite how miserably your original plan failed, it somehow turns out to be your best one yet, leaving you with this hunky boyfriend fiancé in bed next to you. “Morning,” Jungkook mumbles, cheek squished against his pillow. “What’re you doing up so early?” 
As he speaks, the hand that had been safely tucked beneath his pillow slips out from underneath, reaching for your cheek instead. You’ve got your phone in front of you, notebook at your side, analyzing the heck out of a floral arrangement concept Namjoon had helped you come up with. “Thinking maybe we should just elope,” you sigh. “Wedding planning is hard.” 
Between stretches, he lets out this quiet groan, the usually sensual sound remixed with the icky popping of his joints. You wince at the noise and Jungkook laughs at your reaction. “We can elope,” he agrees, pushing himself up onto his elbows to watch you hastily scribble away, crossing out phone numbers and flower ideas as you go. “If that’s what you want.” 
It’s really not. With a frustrated sigh, you resign yourself to calling up more florists this morning, swiping through portfolios and reviews as Jungkook settles in beside you. It’s not like he hasn’t helped with the wedding— just last week he used his cute face to swindle a second dessert table out of the catering company —just that he knows you’re particular about certain things, need to have them a certain way in order to be pleased. And Jungkook lives to please you, so. 
When he sits up, comfortably propped up against the pillows, the sheets become useless, pooling at his waist and leaving you with an all access view to his delicious arms and chest. In the mornings, his skin is extra soft, extra warm, calls for you to crawl into his arms and hold him close. You're just about ready to roll over and ride him like a mechanical bull at the county fair, when you hear the all too familiar Funimation episode opening sequence. 
Immediately, your brows pinch together in confusion as you swivel your head around, just barely catching sight of the iconic purple backsplash of the streaming service. A pink-haired boy appears on screen, with a voice and demeanor you would have otherwise found endearing had you not been confused out of your mind. “What the hell,” you mutter, glancing back at Jungkook only to find his attention zeroed in on the television screen before him. In fact, he’s so focused on whatever the hell he’s watching that he doesn’t even look your way when you place a hand on his thigh, encroaching on a rather sensitive area. 
That’s when you really begin to worry. You see, for the past three years you’ve come to know and accept that Jeon Jungkook, star app developer and self-proclaimed film critique, didn’t really value any forms of animated media. From Saturday morning cartoons to Pixar’s latest hits, Jungkook did not care for it. He was a snob, if you will, believed that ‘real’ movies needed ‘real’ people to actually be worthwhile. 
Granted, he’s definitely eased up on this stance since having met you. You’re complete opposites in that aspect; while you adored the world of animation and digital art, Jungkook… not so much. But he watches it for you, sits down and pretends to be invested in it for you. Sure, his critique is sometimes ridiculous and frankly biased, but he knows how much you enjoy your toons and anime, so he tries his best to give them the same snobby judgement he would any ‘real’ movie. 
That being said, in all your years of dating, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Jungkook willingly watch an anime on his own. Slowly, you ask, “what are you watching?” 
His response is a shrug, and while he may turn his face your way, his eyes never leave the screen. “Just a show,” he says. 
But it is not just a show. 
No, “just a show” for Jungkook was How It’s Made. “Just a show” for Jungkook was Ancient Aliens. “Just a show” for Jungkook was Pawn Stars. 
This— this shonen anime with a cute pink-haired boy and weirdly hot white-haired man in matching uniforms, kicking random monsters asses while some funky music played in the background was not just a show. 
It was… the inception. Of what, exactly? A new era, you suppose. One where Jungkook accepted anime and cartoons as legit forms of art, genuinely evaluating them as seriously as he does all his other lame, indie movies. From now on, he’ll be the one recommending you anime he enjoyed. He’ll sit down and watch your favorite shows without needlessly complaining, just soaking up the gorgeous art and thoughtful plot. It all started here, now, with the big fat hickey on his neck and the TV remote laying on his tummy, sunshine pouring through the cracks of the blinds to color him in warm tones. 
Never mind your upcoming wedding, this was perhaps the greatest moment of your life— the day Jungkook sought out an anime on his own. 
But before you can let the raging waves of excitement take over, you had one more thing to acknowledge. You sit up, purposefully putting your face in between his and the television in a childish attempt to block the view. “Um, hello?” you scoff, and then have to channel all your strength into your neck muscles when Jungkook places a hand against your cheek and forcibly tries to push you away. “You’re watching an anime!” you exclaim, and eventually lose in that battle of strength. You flop back down onto the bed, make sure to send Jungkook the nastiest glare when you tack on, “without me.”
And you know Jungkook is serious about it when he actually pauses the show before talking to you. “You’ve been busy with the wedding,” he shrugs, placing his stupidly huge palm against the top of your head, as if some gentle pats will ease your betrayal-induced heartbreak. (They will, but that’s not the point.) “Did you want to watch?” 
You pout. “Maybe,” you mumble. Jungkook smiles, this soft smile that is so dopey and in love, it makes you melt. His lips are pink and soft and his breath probably still smells nasty as shit, but you want to kiss him badly. Being in love makes you do crazy things. You almost do, except that when you push yourself onto your elbows, ready to lean up and intercept his lips like some trained circus seal, the spiral of your wedding planning notebook digs into your forearm. 
Jungkook glances at the offending object too, releasing this tiny chuckle as he reaches for his own phone instead. “The flowers,” he says, successfully shutting down any hopes of stinky, morning breath kisses. “Let’s settle that first.”
And so, it is with a hefty sigh that you forgo any celebrations concerning Jungkook’s initiation into the anime world, turning your attention to floral arrangements and dinner entrées alike. 
Tumblr media
The night before the wedding is spent at a luxury spa downtown with the one and only Kim Doyeon. You had initially debated spending it at the local shopping center’s food court, rating strangers’ outfit choices on a scale of Would Wear to Burn It. But Jungkook had booked you for the spa, said something about how much you deserved it after all those months of intense wedding planning. 
(“I’m built different,” you had told Jungkook a few months ago, back when you had just started with the wedding preparations, scrolling through photos of the party hall you were dead set on booking. 
Lo and behold, you were not built different. And the hall was already booked for the day you needed it, as was pretty much every other hall for every weekend that summer. It takes about fifteen minutes of uncontrollable sobbing and Jungkook’s masseuse hands on Intensity Level 4 to calm you down enough to begin searching anew. “It’ll all be okay,” he chuckled, brushing the tears from your cheeks.) 
It’s your bachelorette party of sorts, though neither you nor Jungkook are particularly fond of that tradition. Jungkook had used his ‘bachelor party’ funds to purchase some huge camping tent that he and his friends spent the previous weekend in. 
Anyway, the spa is truly a sight to behold. The trickling indoor waterfall paired with the power of aromatherapy are truly working their magic on you, easing all the stress of the last few months out of your muscles. It’s perfect, save for the leggy brunette beside you. “Okay, have you ever considered pegging him?” Doyeon asks, her hand over yours. It’s baby soft, thanks to all the expensive treatments you’ve gotten done today. “That’s, like, a total girlboss move.”
You’d frown, but the two of you are currently donning matching mud masks that nearly make it impossible to even blink. “I’m already a girlboss,” you manage, plucking one of the cool cucumber slices off your eyes. “And I don’t think he’s even into that.”
You comb through the very extensive list of Jungkook’s Kinks stored in your brain. Butt stuff, butt stuff, you repeat, as if the chant will somehow will an answer into existence. Butt stuff, you focus, glaring at the ceiling. There was one accidental poke of your finger against his hole a few months back that resulted in a startled yelp from him, but other than that you don’t remember it ever being well-received on either his or your end. “Yeah,” you mumble, tapping your finger against the armrest of your plush seat. “He doesn’t like that.” 
Beside you, Doyeon scoffs, snatching her own cucumber slices off her eyes to level you with a look of pure disgust, looks like a swamp monster with all the mud on her face. “You two are so lame,” she huffs, interrupting the soothing waterfall sounds to loudly crunch on her cucumber slice. “You let him spit in your mouth, but he won’t let you stick it in his ass?” 
You’ve long since grown immune to the stares you get when around Doyeon. Slipping your remaining slice off your eyes, you follow suit, nibbling away at the fruit. “That’s different,” you defend, turning to face her fully. “And have you maybe considered that I don’t wanna stick it in his ass, you freak,” you add, vaguely aware of the employees and spa-goers around you. “Maybe he can stick it in my ass.”
She rolls her eyes, before quickly moving onto a new and even more stupid suggestion. “Okay, then how about cosplay. What’re you into, maids? slutty teachers? I have a sexy squirrel, if you want.”
And while you do want to dazzle Jungkook on your wedding night, you suspect a sexy squirrel costume won’t fly over well. You’re a little embarrassed to admit you genuinely entertained the idea for a second. Like you said, you were a little rusty when it came to scheming. 
Anyway, the spa night ends at that. As grateful as you are for the experience, all the stress that had evaporated from your body comes raining down again the second you get home, has you up late into the night as you go over the most minute details of your wedding. Were the flowers gonna look good against the table decorations you chose? Was the live music going to arrive on time? Did Jungkook remember to pull his lucky socks out of the dryer? This was undoubtedly your biggest scheme yet, one that wasn’t allowed to fail. Or rather, it was one you didn’t want to fail. 
After all Jungkook’s done for you these past three years, you think he deserves an amazing wedding. This side of you— the one that hatched elaborate plans for your own benefit —was what had brought the two of you together in the first place. It wasn’t your charming personality or your super soaker coochie that had told you to go on that blind date with him, but your slightly mean, scheming tendencies instead. It was only right that you use those same mastermind planning abilities to give him the most beautiful wedding in the world. 
In the end, all your worrying amounts to nothing. Just as Jungkook had said, everything really is okay. 
To say it’s perfect would be a bit of a stretch— you’ve long since given up the notion of perfection, found life was better when it was littered with imperfections. Your wedding is no different; Jungkook spills orange juice— with pulp, yuck —on his fancy shoes, Namjoon cries three times before the ceremony even begins, and Doyeon makes up this crazy story about some college party in a kitchen that neither you nor Jungkook believe. No one ever told you how much hugging and smiling you had to do at weddings. Your feet ache, the weather is sweltering, but Jungkook is at your side so everything is fine. 
And on top of that, Jungkook looks disgustingly handsome, has his hair parted and combed over in that one style that makes you crazy. His clothing fits him to a tee, the material stretching over his muscles with every gesture he makes. But perhaps he looks best when he mingles with the guests, let’s his troupe of aunts pinch and kiss his cheeks as they reminisce on times when he was only thiiis tall. 
It’s beautiful, if a little chaotic, but you love it nonetheless. After all the months you spent agonizing over flower selections and entrées, it’s rather surprising how quickly the long-awaited day comes to an end. Your first day into forever is spent kissing and dancing, surrounded by people you love as you open a new chapter of your life. 
And for every innocent, heart-thumping thought you have that day, a darker, hornier one follows. Come on— you wouldn’t be you if you weren’t constantly fantasizing about your man! 
By the time you get home, you’re hyper-aware of Jungkook. More specifically, you’re hyper-aware of Jungkook’s hands that had touched and squeezed you all night, trailed along your hips and waist as you danced. His wedding band is cool against your skin, sends a shiver when he comes up behind you and pushes your garments down your body. “Hi,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. Your bedroom is shrouded in darkness, the only sound being the quiet ticking of a clock. “Did you have fun?” 
“Hi,” you respond, barely containing your smile when you whirl around, help him blindly undo the buttons on his own clothing as well. Jungkook’s breath is hot as it fans against you, smells faintly like alcohol. But he’s not drunk; between all the greeting and dancing, the two of you barely found time to eat, let alone drink. “I did,” you add, tentatively stepping closer to where you think his bed is. The comforter brushes against your thigh, reassuring you as you pull him down beside you. “Just a little tired now.”
Jungkook stretches beside you, and before you know it, the room is flooded with the soft glow of his bedside lamp on the lowest setting. Jungkook’s chest is lit by the golden shade, rising and falling gently with every breath he takes. You watch as he removes his contacts, deliciously muscular arms bulging as he haphazardly tosses them into the bin. “Tired?” Jungkook repeats and you nod, letting your eyes trail down his chest and over his abdomen. The elastic band of his boxers pinches into his skin, his nether regions subtly stirring as he settles beside you. 
Despite its relatively low volume, the hum of the television still startles you when he clicks it on. You narrow your eyes, tugging a pillow beneath your head as you watch him cruise through his streaming options. “Really,” you drawl, nudging his shin with your heel. 
Jungkook offers you this silly grin that has your heart doing somersaults. “Any requests?” he teases, pushing himself closer against your side. He’s so big and warm, like those huge teddy bears that go on sale around Valentine’s Day. You roll your eyes, accepting his request to cuddle without complaint. 
“Oh my,” you gasp playfully, cheek squished against his boob. “You’re letting me pick our first media as newlyweds?” And Jungkook laughs, leaning over to place a swift kiss against your lips that leaves your heart and brain all stupid for a second. “That one show,” you decide, reaching an arm over him to trail your fingers down the side of his face. It makes his nose scrunch up cutely, but you know he loves it. “The one you watched without me.”
He complies. You suppose it’s a true testament to your relationship, the fact Jungkook was down to watch some anime on your wedding night. 
But no matter how many weeks have passed since the first time you caught Jungkook watching anime, it’s still weird. Well not weird, but strange to watch him click onto your Funimation account— the only Funimation account logged onto his television because, again, Jungkook didn’t watch anime! —and then navigate to the keep watching tab. It’s a show called Jujutsu Kaisen, its series summary a tad too long for you to read in the half second you see it for before he clicks on to resume. 
The episode picks up halfway through, flinging you headfirst into a universe you don’t understand in the slightest. You try to keep up with the dialogue but there’s so many names and concepts being thrown around that you give up two minutes in. So much for getting to enjoy anime with Jungkook. 
Jungkook is into it, kinda. He’s as into it as he can be with you lying in your underwear beside him, freshly waxed and freshly married. While his eyes may linger on the television screen, his hand is rather mindlessly groping your ass. 
Unable to truly enjoy the anime before you and with your husband’s hand on your ass, you don’t even last five minutes. You shift closer, nonchalantly hooking a leg around his waist. Jungkook says nothing of it, simply accommodates himself to the decreased space between the two of you by hugging you tighter. You can barely contain a smile, pointer finger tracing circles around his nipple. 
At that, Jungkook does react. “I thought you were tired,” he comments, 
You scoff. “As if I would be tired on our wedding night,” you murmur, entertaining his chest for a few more seconds before you’re pushing yourself up onto your elbows. Jungkook’s eyes linger on the screen, slowly flicking over to you. They’re dark, a little tired. They flutter shut when you duck over him, lips brushing against his. “Tonight’s the night you fuck me stupid, stupid,” you inform him.  
Jungkook smirks, releasing a tiny puff of air against your mouth. “Shoulda said that from the beginning, stupid,” he mimics, but the word doesn’t carry the same snappiness as it does when you say it. Maybe it’s because Jungkook’s naturally got one of those sweet voices, is kind beyond belief, that it makes you giggle, makes him blush. You reward his attempt with a kiss, muffling your amusement against his soft lips. 
You tilt your head, hand reaching up to cup the side of his face. After the long day you had, kissing Jungkook feels like heaven. He’s so soft and warm beneath you, arms coming up to envelope you in them, pulling you down against his chest. Your mouths move in slow motion, molding against the motions of the other’s as you kiss. 
His lips chase after yours when you break away, eyes still closed. He’s so handsome. He’s yours. “Fuck me stupid,” you purr, pushing his hair away from his face. 
Jungkook’s eyes blink open, half-lidded as he watches you from below. “Of course,” he says, leaning up to kiss your lips once more before he abruptly rolls the two of you over. 
He forgets to pause his show— as he should —before he ducks down to shower you in kisses. They begin at your jaw, gradually sprinkled down your neck and over your chest. You’ve got a fancy bra on today, one of those elite ones that snaps together at the front right between your breasts. Jungkook’s lithe fingers guide the straps down your shoulders first, come around to undo the hook on the front quickly. The bra comes undone, your boobs released from their confines and into Jungkook’s palms instead. 
He massages one, choosing to trail open mouthed kisses along the other. Your hands crawl over his shoulders, into his scalp, until the strands of his dark hair are twirled around your fingers. “Mmh,” you sigh, body flinching when he eventually reaches your nipple. Jungkook sucks it between his lips, let’s his tongue coat it in saliva before rolling it carefully between his teeth. “Oh— baby.”
He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even look your way. He occupies himself with lavishing your nipple with licks and kisses, the motions producing a rather lewd sound as he works away. You pull at his hair, vision foggy as you gaze down at him. From this angle, all you can really see is the top of his head and his back, the tiniest glimpse of the tattoos that swirl over his shoulder. His hair picks up the light coming from the television, has blue highlights one moment and purple the next. Similarly, his back is painted in the same colors as well. 
When it becomes too much and you begin subtly bucking up against him, Jungkook switches over. He pulls away from your nipple with a pop, lips darkened, and offers you a devilish smirk before moving to capture your other nipple in the exact same trap. You melt all over again, eyes rolling backwards as he sucks your chest into perfect little peaks. And once he’s given your other breast the same treatment, he sits up with a satisfied look on his face. “All good?” he asks, soothingly rubbing a hand over your thigh. You nod, acutely aware of the stickiness of your folds against your panties. “Good girl,” Jungkook hums. He looks massive over you, the glow of the television behind him making him look like some badass protagonist rising from the ashes of his last defeat. Except for the fact Jungkook barely loses at anything and tonight was no different; he was about to fuck the hottest wife in the world (you), which you like to think is the ultimate win. 
As if he can sense your current bumbling thoughts, he pats your thigh. He packs a little force behind it, makes it feel more like a mild slap than a pat, really. “Eyes up here,” Jungkook teases, but there’s the hint of a command in his words.
Without meaning to, you find yourself slipping into submissiveness. “Yes, sir,” you exhale shakily, letting yourself drink in the sight. 
Before your eyes can catch sight of the tenting fabric of his boxers, Jungkook is leaning over you, pressing his clothed erection against you. A tiny gasp of surprise escapes you, and Jungkook takes advantage of the moment to slip his tongue past your lips. The wet muscle glides against yours, toys with you until you’re panting against him. Instinctively, your hands curl around his neck, fingers interlocking. 
His breath is hot and shallow, mingles with yours as you kiss. Faintly, you can hear the characters on the television chatting behind him, make note of a particularly handsome voice actor that you’ll have to investigate later. But then Jungkook is consuming your thoughts again when he nips at the tip of your tongue meanly. “Ow,” you frown, pulling away to present him with a pout. 
Jungkook’s face is soft but his eyes are dark, nudging his nose against yours until you get the hint and turn your face to the side. He kisses down your cheek, each smooch softer than the last, that when he gets to your throat, you’re not expecting the harsh bite he bestows upon the skin. “Ouch,” you hiss, smacking his shoulder in surprise. Jungkook accepts the blow, focuses on sucking against your skin until the spot is all tingly and warm, your heartbeat prominent beneath the bruise. “Jeez,” you say, but all traces of irritation fade away when he meets your gaze again. 
At this point in your relationship, he doesn’t even have to ask anymore. His eyes flicker down to your mouth, then back to your eyes. Twice he does this, and on the third time you part your lips. Your tongue presses against your bottom lip. Jungkook moves over you, lines himself up above you. Today it’s slow, not the usual straight shot he makes for the back of your throat; his lips pucker, pink and cute, and the saliva dribbles out slowly, one long chain that touches down against your tongue. He’s steady about it, doesn’t let it swing back and forth like the necklace he wears does. You shiver, eyes fluttering shut as you let Jungkook do his thing. 
Eventually, he cuts it short with a swipe of his tongue over his lips, immediately chasing his own spit down your mouth in another heated kiss. It’s not as slow or as graceful as the previous two. Your tongues clash, lips pressing hard against one another. You do your best to keep up with Jungkook’s pace, but he’s moving a little too fast today, making it wet and sloppy. “Sl- slow down,” you pant, but Jungkook pays you no mind. He keeps on kissing and biting and sucking. He nips at your bottom lip, tugs at it just the slightest as your hands roam over his shoulders and down his back. 
And as you said earlier, Jungkook is so big. His frame nearly engulfs your own beneath him, rippling shoulders holding himself above you, slim waist captured between your thighs. You love how big he is, how his entire body locks up when you dig your nails into his skin, brand him as your own. You paint his back in tiny red roads, from his scapula to just below his rib cage. You know Jungkook loves the feeling, the meaning, when he rolls his hips against yours. 
His cock is hard beneath his boxers, teases your folds through the fabric. You melt at the touch, trying to spread your legs even further apart. Jungkook can tell. He tries to push himself even closer, even deeper, until your bodies are practically lined up against one other. 
It’s not enough for him— hell, it’s not enough for you. Jungkook pulls away all too soon, and you wonder if your lips are as debauched as his. He pushes himself back onto his haunches, gazing down at you like you’re a work of art that he can’t wait to nail into the wall. Your heavy breathing is accompanied by the sounds of a fight sequence behind him. It’s so dorky, but it’s so on-brand for the two of you. 
Mind hazy and in love, your hand reaches out to caress his hip. “You’re so fucking hot,” you mumble, letting him guide you out of your panties. “Gonna suck your cock for the rest of my life.”
At your brazenness, a surprised snort escapes him. “Is that so,” he hums. 
You nod, looking at him with hearts in your eyes. “Uh huh,” you babble, cupping his face in your hands. “Gonna ride you like I’m a remora on a sea turtle.”
Jungkook barks out a laugh, the sound so bubbly and loud that it momentarily clears the horny haze in your mind. “Where did you learn that?” he asks, bestowing a sweet bunny kiss upon you that makes your stomach somersault, eyes fluttering shut as you bask in the emotions. 
You manage to steal a kiss, fingers slowly gliding down his strong arms, over his forearms. “That one documentary,” you shrug, “from last week. Before you folded me like a lawn chair.” 
Jungkook nods. “Ah, I remember,” he agrees, slowly moving down the bed, away from you. You let out a sad whine, flashing him the biggest puppy eyes the further he gets. “I’m right here, pretty girl,” he reassures you, eventually settling down with his face positioned between your thighs. 
Your hands make an exploratory trip south, pointer finger dipping between your folds. You're a little stunned to find out just how wet you are, swirling your finger against your nub if only to hear the tiny squelch of your wetness against it. Before you can yank your hand away, there’s a set of lips kissing at your knuckles, Jungkook’s dark eyes glancing up at you. “I’ve got it from here,” he croons, reaching his left hand over to entangle it with yours, setting your knotted hands just over your belly. Your rings glint beneath the faint glow of the television. You’re not even sure if this is the same episode anymore.
The first swipe of his tongue against your folds has your walls fluttering in response. “Ah,” you exhale, tightening your hand against his. Jungkook says nothing, choosing instead to run the tip of his tongue over your clit. He nudges the bud back and forth, teases it for a moment before settling his mouth over it. He sucks it between his plush lips, the action sending a wave of excitement down your spine, turning every nerve in your body on. A strained inhale passes through your clenched teeth, his name tumbling from your lips. 
Eager to outdo himself, Jungkook even throws in a little nibbling, gently rolling your clit between his teeth before eventually releasing it. It’s a powerful sequence, one he repeats a few more times until your legs are squirming and kicking around him, knees nearly knocking against his forehead from how hot it gets you. And just as you’re nearing your limit, twitching and whimpering beneath him, he pulls away. “Jungkook,” you groan, huffing for air as you level him with a glare. 
He smiles, presses a kiss against your thigh that nearly distracts you from your looming orgasm. Despite robbing you of said orgasm, it seems Jungkook is in tune with you tonight. Before you can begin begging for more, he ducks back down, this time prodding his tongue along the length of your wet folds. It’s warm, momentarily calming you down as he ventures further down. He circles your entrance with his tongue, the muscles tightening up in anticipation. The hand not holding yours comes trailing up the inside of your thigh, leaving behind a ticklish sensation that has you letting out an airy giggle. “Cute,” Jungkook comments, but the word is muffled against your velvety folds. 
All traces of laughter are wiped from your system when two, long fingers run along your folds, following the same path as his tongue had earlier, collecting your arousal before carefully pushing into your hole. “Oh— Fuck—“ you shudder, mouth dropping open at the intrusion as your body hurries to accommodate. 
“I’ve got you,” Jungkook soothes, kissing your clit. It’s meant to calm you down, but all it does is make you buck against him. And then, he feels the need to add, “relax for me, sweet girl.”
“No,” you shiver, legs jerking when he curls his fingers inwards. “Ju— I can’t.” 
His tongue swirls around your bud, pushing it to and fro as he sinks his fingers down until he’s knuckle deep. “See,” he says, giving an experimental scissor that has you seeing stars. “You’re so good for me,” he praises, and then hits the final nail into the coffin when he tugs your interlocked hands down, placing a kiss against your ring finger. You could sob. 
You nearly do when Jungkook begins pumping his fingers in and out, the movement so devastatingly slow at first. You try to meet him halfway, pushing down against his hand, but the sheets feel like water beneath your hands and feet, making it impossible to hold onto anything as Jungkook works his fingers in. They’re so long, so strong— he spends about five hours everyday typing away elaborate nerd coding, so it’s only natural that they are —as they feel against every inch of your walls. About twenty variations of his name come tumbling off your lips, desperate pleas and cries as he fucks you slowly. “More, more!” you beg, eyes screwed shut. 
Another kiss is placed against your clit in response. Jungkook hums and the vibrations run wild throughout your body. The orgasm from before looms over you like a wave, threatens to drown you in one go. His fingers curl in, pads brushing against something soft and sensitive within you. “Wait,” you moan, back arching. Jungkook doesn’t wait. 
Your entire body clamps up when you come. Any whimpered cries you may have wanted to release are reduced to soundless gasps, eyes rolled to the back of your head as Jungkook draws your orgasm out of you. It makes the following plunges of his fingers even more slippery, the sound reaching your ears only as you come down from your high, body going limp once more. “What the fuck,” you groan, placing your free hand against your rapidly falling and rising chest. 
Jungkook’s voice is laced with hints of pride when he speaks again. “Everything okay up there, pretty girl?” he teases, easing his fingers out of your cunt. Your walls clench involuntarily, try to keep them inside. Still too breathless to speak, you respond with a childish tap of your knee against his shoulder. The sap places a kiss against your kneecap, so goddamn romantic it nearly makes you barf. 
The scariest thing about Jungkook is the fact the dude doesn’t know how to chill. Approximately thirty seconds after making you come so hard you saw your dead childhood hamster, he immediately ducks back down to clean you up. With his tongue, of course. “Jung— kook!” you squeal, making a mad grab for his locks as he runs his tongue over your sensitive folds. He places his thumbs against your labia, gently pulls the puffy skin apart until he’s got an all access pass to your dripping hole. 
He’s downright nasty, not in a disgusting sense, but in an indecent sense that would make even the most experienced of incubi cringe. Jungkook doesn’t care that his own cum is spilling out of your entrance, mixed with yours, as he licks away. And if he does, he doesn’t show it, eyes rolling back as he cleans you up, muffled moans against your pussy. He’s an absolute semen demon, in short. The worst part is, you like watching him do it. Like the feeling of Jungkook’s tongue licking you clean, the sparkly white glisten of his lips and chin as he goes to town. It makes your entire body tingle, arousal slowly gearing up for another round. 
When he’s done, Jungkook looks even more satisfied than when he made you come. “Gross,” you mumble, but you’re a liar. Because when he shuffles closer again, lips brushing against yours, you’re all too ready to welcome his tongue in. Maybe you’re the gross one. 
Before you know it, Jungkook is settling over you once more. He’s heavy, all those muscles weighing down on you, but you love how it feels. How he squishes you and suffocates you beneath his bulky frame. Your legs wrap around his waist, pull his cock flush against your folds. His rock hard member finds itself nestled against your folds, the touch muffled by the boxers he’s still got on. “Why are you still clothed?” you huff, reaching a hand down to meanly snap his waistband against his skin. Jungkook doesn’t even flinch. 
He places a kiss beneath your ear, exhaling softly against your skin. “I have a request,” he says suddenly, shifting closer. 
That was new. 
You trail a hand down the knobs of his spine, which are especially prominent from the position he’s in now. “What is it?”
(You're hoping it’s not a sexy squirrel outfit.) 
For a moment, all you can hear is the rhythmic lull of the anime’s closing theme song, eyes curiously flickering over to the screen. Jungkook pushes himself onto his elbows, blocking the view. The room isn’t completely dark, but the placement of the lamp off to your side and the television behind him cast dramatic shadows over his figure. His voice is low when he speaks. “Don’t take your pill tomorrow,” he murmurs. 
You freeze, eyes widening just a tad bit. “What?” 
His tongue glides over his lips, prods at the very corner as he pushes on. You're dazed by sight. “Your birth control,” he explains. When he shifts again, the length of his cock drags along your folds. You wonder if the tip is leaking by now. The mere thought makes you quiver. “Don’t take it,” he repeats. “Let’s just… see what happens.” 
You know what he’s asking for, despite his somewhat vague wording, and you’re honestly surprised he didn’t open the night with this request to begin with. You’ve always been ready to give Jungkook whatever he wanted, willing to jump through hoops for your boyfriend husband. It just so happens that what he wants pleasantly overlaps with what you want. “… okay,” you mumble, trying to play it cool. Your heart is hammering away inside your chest. “Let’s see what happens.”
The solemn look on his face fades away. Jungkook grins, trailing a finger down the side of your face, over your bottom lip. He presses against the plush skin, watches with hooded eyes as you open your mouth for him. “Yeah?” he exhales, the harsh quality of his voice sending a tingle up your spine. 
You trail your own hands down his sides, thumbs catching on his waistband and tugging them down under his ass. His cock springs forward, heavy and hot when it presses against your thigh. “Yeah,” you agree, slowly guiding his member between your folds, legs spreading impossibly wider. And then, possessed by the daring spirit of youth and love, you flick your gaze back up to him. “Knock me up,” you purr. 
Your straightforwardness makes him smile, whatever nerves he had been feeling quickly evaporating. “I should probably turn the TV off, right?” he asks, all sweet and dorky. 
“Yes, Jungkook,” you tell him dryly, “I would appreciate it if we could make our first baby without that white-haired daddy on screen.”
With a peal of laughter, Jungkook reaches over you for the previously abandoned remote. “His name is Gojo,” he feels the need to correct before clicking the television off. “And he’s not a daddy.”
You roll your eyes, welcoming him back into your arms. “But you’re gonna be one,” you croon, slotting your mouth against his. A surprised squeak catches in Jungkook’s throat, a sound so cute and unexpected that your heart immediately records it and sends it into the archives. His hands come back full force, squeezing and grabbing every inch of you he can get. From your boobs to your hips to your ass, it’s like Jungkook’s trying to burn this memory of you into his brain as well. Not that you mind, always appreciative of a good grope or two if it’s coming from him. 
When you pull away from your steamy kiss, Jungkook’s cheeks are a lovely rosy color, lips a few shades darker. “How do you want me?” you ask, momentarily releasing him as he (finally) shimmies out of his underwear. “Doggy, cowgirl, missionary? What about wheelbarrow?”
Jungkook blinks. “What the fuck is a wheelbarrow?” 
You frown, surprised by his complete lack of knowledge. “Y’know, it’s when, like, you hold me like a wheel—“ Before you can finish your explanation, Jungkook is rolling you over, his hands gripping your waist as he hauls you onto your knees. “Alright,” you huff, lifting your head from its suffocated position against the sheets. “Doggy it is.” 
“Sorry,” Jungkook says behind you, his stupid fat cock just hanging against your thigh. He needs to get in you, like, yesterday. “I’m just— I’m a little excited.”
Your heart softens, all the horny momentarily put on pause as you throw him a glance over your shoulder. “Aw,” you coo, offering him an understanding smile. Your moment of softness lasts all of three seconds before your smile turns devilish, wiggling your ass out for him. “I’m gonna make you a daddy,” you announce. Jungkook grips his cock, prodding the tip against your entrance. You’re loosened up from before, but the massive size still makes you jump a little at first. Despite the angle, the blush on his cheeks is still so obvious. He’s so cute. You’re gonna give him a thousand babies if he asks. (Or hopefully just two.) 
Jungkook spares you a glance. There’s sweat clinging to his hairline, down between his manly bosom. You want to turn around and fondle his chest, lick his nipples like he did you. But you also want his cock to reach so deep inside of you, you can’t walk for days. You wanted him over you and under you, around you, holding you together—basically, you wanted Jungkook anyway you could have him. 
His hand glides over the curve of your ass, a silent warning before he finally lines himself up with your entrance. The stretch is even more blissful when he comes in from the back, prods against your walls in ways like never before. “Fuck,” you gasp, knuckles trembling from how tightly you fist the sheets. 
The tip of Jungkook’s cock is the biggest part, always making you squirm and moan as he pushes in. He’s extra huge today, you’re sure of it, because there’s no way you’ve ever been stretched this wide before. Even Jungkook is struggling today, breathing harshly behind you, nearly growling. The sound sends a fresh wave of arousal to your core, produces a lewd squelch as he sinks in further. By the time the tip is in, the rest of his cock awaiting its turn, you’re feeling dizzy. You try to call his name out, but your voice catches in your throat. 
The rest of his cock slides in easily enough, the remnants of your first orgasm guiding his pulsing dick through your folds. “How the fuck,” Jungkook groans, fingers digging into your hips, “are you still so tight.” 
You would shrug, but all your focus is channeled into your nether regions, body unconsciously clenching around Jungkook’s cock as he readjusts himself inside. “Baby,” you manage, voice practically a wheeze. Half of your face is shoved against the mattress, so you’re certain the sound comes out even quieter. 
Jungkook’s grip against your waist loosens, the skin soothed over with the careful rub of his thumbs. You’re practically dissolving into the touch, soft sighs and exhales against the sheets, sweat accumulating against your nape. “There we go,” Jungkook husks, giving an experimental roll of his hips. You whimper, jolting away. Jungkook doesn’t let you get too far, tugging you back against his cock with a hushed chuckle. “God,” he exhales, “your voice is so cute.”
“Shut up,” you moan, sending him a teary glare of your shoulder. Jungkook accepts it with a handsome smile that leaves your heart threatening to escape. “I hate you.”
He draws his cock out slowly, each minute ridge and vein along his length dragging against the tender skin of your entrance. You squeeze, gasping at the friction and the pleasure that it sends shooting up your spine. “Wouldn’t let me be this deep inside your pussy if you hated me, angel,” he teases, placing a lighthearted slap against your ass. “You love me, don’t you?”
Before you can answer, Jungkook thrusts back into your heat, steals the words right from your throat as he shoves you further into the mattress. Instead, a string of stuttered cries come out, his name sprinkled in. The tip of his cock kisses something inside of you, only for a moment, but it’s enough to make you hot and dizzy. “I- I do,” you eventually manage to bite out, lifting your head to gaze at his headboard instead, too overwhelmed to look at the man himself. 
Jungkook leans over to place a kiss against your spine, inadvertently pushing his cock deeper. A strained sob comes tumbling out, one that has Jungkook hiding his grin against your skin. It’s the last semblance of kindness he shows you, because when he pushes himself away, he’s turned into a new man. “Keep still for me,” he commands, shuffling closer until his pelvis is flush against your behind. 
His thrusts are all equally as fast, equally as deep. They keep a steady pace, never letting you recover from one before Jungkook delivers the next, and then the next. You're quivering against the sheets, unsure if you want to pull away from the intensity or meet him head on and exacerbate it. You settle for a mixture of the in-between, moans and whines muffled against the sheet you bite down on. 
He appreciates your effort all the same. “Shit,” Jungkook chokes out, breathless. He pauses his rapid thrusting to grind his hips against you, your walls twitching at the sensation of his cock inside of you. “Gonna look so cute carrying my baby,” he groans, tugging you closer when he feels you’re too far. 
“O- Our baby,” you make sure to correct. 
His cock glides out, and he punctuates his next statement with a brutal buck into you. “Our baby,” he agrees. Whatever else Jungkook may have wanted to say is put on pause as he delivers a particularly bruising round of thrusts, his skin loudly slapping against yours. You sob, shivering at the intensity he shows you. 
He moves fast when he’s on a mission, and tonight’s mission is getting you pregnant. He’s wanted it for months— hell, Jungkook has fantasized about this for years with you. So it’s no surprise how seriously he’s taking this, pushing your chest against the mattress, ass high in the air as he plunges his dick into your cunt. Each cycle makes your toes curl, head spin from how hard you squeeze your eyelids shut. 
Jungkook’s evenly paced fucking continues, cock gliding against your walls. You try to clench as much as you can, but at a certain point, everything goes numb. Not only were you still tender from your first orgasm, but your mind is all fuzzy from the fact you’re fucking with the intention of having kids. Your face feels hot, and you’re not sure if it’s from the pleasure building within you or the baby-making motive. 
His cock pushes against your soft spot, the sensation terribly amplified in this position, and your wandering mind snaps back into the present moment. “Kook,” you wail, trembling hands terrorizing the sheets beneath you. 
“Mm,” he hums, not once stopping the movement of his hips. “I’ve got you.” 
And he does, holding your waist when your body begins to give out, muscles sore and limp. One hand curls around you, finds itself flattened just above your mound, pinky finger teasing the beginning of your slit. “No,” you shudder, already so sensitive. Jungkook doesn’t prod any further, just let’s his hand rest there. He’s got more important duties right now, like fucking a baby into you. 
The arousal that had been slowly simmering within begins to boil over, vision going blurry as Jungkook continues to pound into you from behind. You have half a mind to alert him, know he sometimes liked it when you held off, but after the events of today, you can’t. You jerk forward, the muscles in your thighs twitching and trembling as the pleasure rolls over you. Your walls tighten, spasming around his cock, make Jungkook hiss. 
For a moment, your senses black out, making it impossible to see or hear as wave after wave of gratifying pleasure wash over you. Everything slowly leaks back into focus. The sound of Jungkook fucking into your creamy walls, the warm glow of the lamp, the weight of your wedding band against your finger. His name rolls off your tongue, soft, but you don’t think he hears it. 
“Fuck, fuck,” he groans, picking up the pace after having witnessed you cream his cock. 
You shift, pussy still pulsating with the aftershocks of your orgasm. “Sweetheart,” you mumble, huffing against the sheets. You spare him a watery glance over your shoulder, catching sight of his rippling muscles, his sweat-drenched body. “Jungkook,” you try again, and this time his gaze meets yours. His shapely brows are drawn together, jaw clenched. 
He’s tired, that much you can tell. Like you, Jungkook had been awake since the crack of dawn getting ready. And then he’d spent his entire day running around, greeting guests, entertaining you on the dance floor. He just wants to come now, wants to fill you up and call it a day. “Come whenever, sweetheart,” you tell him, and because you can’t exactly cup his face from this angle, you settle for reaching back and giving his hip a squeeze. 
Jungkook melts at the touch, releasing his hold on your waist to knot your hands together. “Trying,” he whimpers. Touched by the desperate gleam in his eyes, you muster what’s left of your strength and slowly push yourself up, back knocking against his chest. Immediately, Jungkook crowds close behind you, practically placing his entire weight on you. His chin finds itself tucked over your shoulder, hands slithering up your waist to cup your breasts. 
“Go ahead,” you mumble, meeting his hands with yours, encouraging him to squeeze your chest as he slowly, shallowly gives forth his last few strokes. He’s a whimpering, trembling mess, pent up as he chases his orgasm. “Good boy,” you purr, gently knocking your head against his. His dark hair tickles your cheek, his scent crowding your senses. “You’re doing amazing.” 
When he finally comes, he muffles his cries with a harsh bite against your shoulder, breath hot and heavy against your skin. “Oh fuck,” he gasps, his hips still bucking even after the fact. It takes a moment for Jungkook to regain his senses, pulling out with a sharp inhale. Your shared cum follows, drips down between your thighs and onto his sheets. 
Your eyes are ringing, the eyelids heavy with fatigue. Jungkook flops down beside you and you follow, butt naked and sweaty. His back rises and falls, skin smooth to the touch. Your palm runs down his spine, soothes over his muscles until he’s letting out a soft whine. “You okay?” he mumbles, cheek smushed against his pillow. 
Nodding, you try your best to maneuver the comforter out from beneath the two of you, sloppily tugging it up until at least your lower halves are modestly covered. “Are you okay?” you ask instead, pushing his hair away from his eyes. “I know this was, like, a Sims 4 aspiration for you.”
He snorts, soft and muffled. “What even is that,” he smiles, blinking open an eye to level you with an amused glance. Eventually, the energy comes seeping back into his bones, little by little, and he manages to prop his head up against his palm to properly look at you. “I think we’ll have to keep going,” Jungkook announces. 
“Fine by me,” you say. Something knocks against your temple, the television remote from before. Your husband reaches over without missing a beat, completely neglecting the fact you could’ve become concussed from the injury, flicking the TV on instead. The purple Funimation background is bright, offensive to the eyes. 
Still weird, you decide, silently cuddling closer as Jungkook resumes his anime. 
Tumblr media
“Advice on kids?” Namjoon asks, his voice staticky through the phone. Faintly, you can hear the clicking of his keyboard, the quiet gulp of him drinking his coffee. “I don’t have kids.”
You sigh, slumping back against the couch. Jungkook is in the bathroom, soaking in the hot bath you prepared for him as a gift for last night’s efforts. “I know you don’t have kids,” you tell him, pulling your feet up onto the cushions. “But you don’t know anyone who has kids? Friends? Girlfriends?”
Namjoon hums. “Well, Doyeon and I don’t have—“
“That’s enough,” you interrupt, “I think I would know if Doyeon had a kid, thank you very much.”
Namjoon, the baboon, has the audacity to chuckle. “Sorry,” he apologizes, but you doubt he’s all too sorry when he’s railing her every other weekend. “My friend Hobi has kids,” he offers, and you’re willing to set aside your beef with Namjoon in order to be helped. “Girls. Five, I think.”
“Five?!” you shriek, and then have to tell Jungkook you’re okay when he yells back in a worry. “Five?” you repeat, quietly this time, practically curled up against the couch. “How does— like they gave birth five times?” 
Namjoon makes a rather indiscriminate noise over the line, and vaguely, you realize you probably shouldn’t be asking a straight man about this kind of stuff. “Well, two of them are twins,” he responds. “But I doubt that’ll happen to you.” 
You huff, still in shock. “I better not have twins.”
Tumblr media
Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr
397 notes · View notes
taesinferno · a month ago
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
summary daddy's not blonde anymore, they're on family vacation, and he wears obnoxious shirts and gets matching ones for the whole family
pairing -> dilf!jk × mom!reader
genre -> domestic, family, mentions of smut (18+)
a/n -> couple people had requested this bricks ago but muster jk finally made it happen. enjoy 😚
series m.list
<- prev
Tumblr media
"Everybody say 'cheese!'" A chorus followed as the photographer clicked the picture. You were stood in front of a photowall, name of the resort behind you, with Jungkook and your kids. Oh, and you were all wearing matching patterns, courtesy of your overexcited vacation husband.
"Alright, where to next?" He was practically buzzing, bouncing with excitement. "Do we wanna go play with the dolphins in the aquatic tank? Or hit the beach and build sandcastles? Oh! They have an indoor water park too!"
Seungwan, who was being held by daddy, was unimpressed with the list he just teetered off, and was more engaged in the chain daddy was wearing, mouthing on it.
Ji-ah, on the other hand, got her vacation enthusiasm from her, screaming "ALL THREE!!" before looping hands with Jungkook and tugging him towards the aquatic tank first.
Seungwan was passed to you as you followed, who suddenly put up a fit when he was detached from Jungkook's necklace. He prepared himself for a nice big scream, but as soon as he saw you waving his teether in his face, he settled back down, grabbing the toy with his grubby hands.
Seungwan was much too preoccupied to be dazzled by the dolphins, unlike his father and sister, who clapped obnoxiously every time they did a trick. Jungkook even took Ji-Ah down by the tank after the show, working his charm on the dolpin trainor to get Ji-Ah a closer look.
By the time you all had reached the beach, you could tell your plans for the indoor water park would have to be pushed until tomorrow. Ji-Ah had a lot of energy, running into the water with Jungkook and engaging in a splash battle, and running back and forth to make a mega-sandcastle (as Jungkook called it).
But that was an hour ago. Now, she was lounging peacefully by your side, eyes closed on the verge of falling asleep. "Im tanning, mom," she'd told you with a roll of her eyes when you'd asked her if she wanted to take a nap. A phrase she'd probably heard on some television show, which she didn't really know the meaning of, because her complexion... didn't exactly need tanning.
"I don't think we can do the water park today," Jungkook plopped down beside you with a pout. "I know, sweetie, we'll do it tomorrow." You patted his cheek while keeping your eyes on Seungwan playing in the sand.
"You look hot," he blurted out bluntly, smirk growing on his face as he ran his eyes down your bikini-clad body. You rolled your eyes. "Let me help cool you down."
You felt a sudden cold sensation pressed against the side of your neck, paired with Jungkook's tongue. You yelped and pushed him away, "Why is your mouth so cold??"
He grinned and stuck his tongue out to reveal its red color from the strawberry daiquiri he was drinking. Of course.
"Let me cool you down, baby," he leaned in close to your ear, "My baby mama. So sexy. Everyone here can see it."
"I'm not your baby mama, I'm your wife," you snorted, shoving him away. But that didn't deter him.
"Remember when you wore red like this on our honeymoon? Spent the entire day in bed," he recounted, tugging at your bikini straps, "Neighbors got so tired of us. But how could I stop, when you kept moaning my name and scratching me up like that? Had the marks for bricks after."
You remembered. You remembered very well. Not only were you newly married, but you had also finished law school, and Jungkook had recieved a fat check that would be recurrent for a while after. It was a cause for celebration. And if you're celebration came in the form of raw animal sex, well then so be it!
"Keep it in your pants, Jeon. We've got company." You nodded over to Ji-Ah, who was nodding awake from her mini-nap, Seungwan's babbling waking her up.
"Ready to go kiddo?" You asked her as you scooped up Seungwan while Jungkook started to pack things up. She gave you a sleepy nod, having changed her mind about a nap now after getting a taste of the benefits. Seungwan's babble continued loudly, animatedly cheering on his father as Jungkook lifted the beach umbrella up onto his shoulders.
"Daddy looks good, doesn't he?" You said to Seungwan, oogling at your man. You and Jungkook thought Seungwan was close to speaking soon, and your parenting books had told you that speaking to him directly in full words rather than baby talk would help him get there. So you tried to speak to your baby as much as possible. What you didn't expect was him to pick up words you'd never said in his earshot. At least, you thought you hadn't said in his earshot.
"Se-zzy," Seungwan blurted out, pointing to Jungkook. Your eyes shot wide open as Jungkook whipped his head around, almost dropping the carefully curated items in his arms.
"What did you say, Seungwan?" You asked, shocked beyond comprehension.
"Se-zzy!!" He repeated nonchalantly, not knowing what all the fuss was about as he returned his attention to his teether.
"Our baby's first words—" you sputtered as Jungkook clapped at his son's first time speaking.
"I didn't catch it on camera! Say it again, Seungwan!" Jungkook encouraged, dropping his things to pull out his phone excitedly. You didn't know whether to celebrate or scold him. But it wasn't your poor baby's fault. We all know who's vocabulary that word was a part of. And Jungkook was a bit careless with the way he talked to you in front of the kids. But despite all that, nothing could wipe the smile off your face at your baby's first words.
"That's only for mommy and daddy to say," Ji-Ah did the scolding for you, opting to teaching Seungwan other words instead. "Say Ji-Ah. C'mon, say Ji-Ah."
Ji-Ah was right. But Seungwan was his father's son, alright.
Tumblr media
>> click here to be tagged!
Copyright © 2021, taesinferno | tumblr | no reposts, translations, copies, etc.
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
noteguk · a month ago
too much, too little | jjk | m | drabble
[ ! ] this is a drabble for bad influence. You can read it as a stand-alone. 
— summary;  in which you’re always trying to keep up with Jungkook, especially when he goes from one extreme to the other.
— contents and warnings; so much smut, pwp, fluff, two different smut scenes!!, badboy!jungkook x goodgirl!reader, enemies to lovers, secret relationship, dirty talk, sex in front of a mirror, unprotected sex (don’t.), creampie, cockwarming, overstimulation, tit play, squirting 😳, forced orgasm, multiple orgasms, praise kink, dom!jk x sub!reader, mentions of cum stuffing, jk has insane stamina lol; for the other scene we have pretty soft sex!!!, so no major warnings besides being whipped 🕺
— words; 2,7k 
— author’s note; oh the duality of men… inspiring. The timeline is after bad romance for both scenes, during summer break. 
Some days, you couldn’t keep up with Jungkook. 
Ever since the first time you two slept together (under less than ideal circumstances), you could tell that there was something else burning at the edge of his touches; something fiery, needy, always on edge. He kissed you like it would never be enough, held you closer tightly, exploring your body like he both wanted to worship and ruin it. It was an insubstantial warning, something that took its time before it materialized into reality and, yet, it was there — an insatiable whisper at the back of his mind, just waiting to strike. 
The closer you two got, the more it showed, but it was only after you made it official that Jungkook actually let himself go. Regardless of the intensity that he showed, it was a rare occurrence — under very specific moments, very specific words. Something just clicked inside his head and made him realize that he would never get enough of you — and, yet, he should still try to. 
The hot summer air was unbearable around you two, intensified by the contact of his chest against your back; his hands roaming your body like he could find the secrets of the universe underneath your skin. Your bed, before so tidy, now had sheets falling over the edge, accumulating like puddles on the ground, your pillows mindlessly thrown over each other. It was in that warzone that you found yourself, moaning out his name like it was a personal prayer, doing your best and still feeling like you were failing. 
Jungkook kept both taking and providing, pushing you towards your high again and again until all that you could think about was him; all that you could utter were the broken fragments of his name. You said yes every single time, allowing him to use your body however he deemed best, making you cum on his fingers, his tongue, his cock; presenting him with everything he wanted and he still asked for more, so much more than you felt like you could give. 
By the time that Jungkook had pulled you onto his lap, your back to him and facing the large mirror at the corner of your room, you had already come four times, and you were at your absolute limit. Nevertheless, when he urged you to ride him (his voice so deep, so coated by desire), you did, using his help to bounce on his big cock as he moaned endless praises to you. 
You got high on them — his sweet words, the compliments, the strained groans you earned when you moved your hips just right, making him cum inside you one more time and dragging you into that abyss just as quickly. Everything was such a mess, you both were so sweaty, so dirty, drunk off the pleasure. And you just hung onto his voice like it was your life jacket, even if it was only making you sink deeper. 
“That’s my girl, so fucking perfect,” Jungkook moaned, breathing hard against your neck. His cock was still hard inside you, slowly softening, and you could see the white lines of his thick white cum dripping down his length, onto his balls, making a mess on your bed. His eyes darted towards the mirror, meeting yours in the reflection. “So pretty sitting on my cock like this, angel.” 
With a shivering breath, you nodded, watching as he wrapped one tattooed arm around your body, pressing you back against his toned chest. You whined at the feeling of his cock moving inside you at the change of angle; sighed at the gentle kiss that Jungkook placed on your shoulder. 
Innocently, you thought that was the last round — in all honesty, you couldn’t conceive another one. But Jungkook apparently wouldn’t stop until his stamina had run out because, within a second, two of his fingers were landing on your clit, rubbing it quickly. 
“K-Kook, wait, wait,” you sobbed, trying to maintain your body in place. Your thighs were already shaking like crazy and, even with one of his arms holding onto you, you felt like you could fall on the ground at any given second. “I j-just c-came.” 
And yet you felt like you were about to do it again, picking up right before the tidal wave of your high washed over you; the pleasure, a sharp feeling at the bottom of your spine. To tear another high from you so fast was normal considering how sensitive and overwhelmed you were, but there was also a strange pressure that you had never felt before building up just as fast, threatening to spill over. 
“One more for me, baby,” Jungkook cooed, his voice like honey, yet so sharp around the edges. He was staring at you like a crazy man, focus flickering between the movements of his fingers on your clit and your overwhelmed expression, almost pained with sensitivity. He could feel his cock hardening again just at the sight of you, at the feeling of your pussy constricting around him. “Just one more... Fuck. You look so fucking pretty when you cum, I just wanna see it again.” 
“C-Can’t,” you cried out, but didn’t make any attempt at fighting him off. You knew you were about to crack, ecstasy filling your brain. The way your legs were shaking was shameful, a loud moan breaking your thoughts. “Wait, I don’t—“ 
It all happened so fast that you couldn’t even tell what it was at first, that odd pressure releasing at the same time your walls tightened around his cock, splattering all over his inked fingers. You sobbed and whimpered as you came, Jungkook’s fingers rubbing you through your orgasm, only stopping when you landed one hand on his wrist. 
Took you a second to piece together what had occurred, your heavy-lidded eyes falling to the calamity between your legs. “Fuck, princess,” Jungkook grunted behind you, voice strained with hunger. “That’s so fucking hot, you just squirted all over my cock.” 
Your sentence felt like cotton trying to leave your mouth, mind still hazed. “I’m... sorry, I never did this before,” you said, unsure how to proceed. Your inner thighs were so wet, a mixture of his cum and your own arousal painting your skin. “God, this is so embarrassing.”
“Fucking love it, baby,” Jungkook breathed out against your skin, eyes glued to your reflection like he could eat you whole. “Did you know you could do that?”
“Do I look like I did?” You asked, throwing your head back against his shoulder. Jungkook followed your movement, placing a kiss on your cheek. You sighed. “This is so—“ 
“And I thought you couldn’t get any better,” he didn’t even let you finish, the hand that was around your waist now trailing up, up, squeezing your breast before stopping on your neck. “Such a good girl,” he praised, tilting your head to the side so you could meet his gaze. “Do it again? For me?” 
How he still wasn’t satisfied, you had no idea. If anything, your recent discovery only made the flame inside him burn brighter, all-consuming. “I… I don’t know if I can,” you admitted, a pretty pout on your lips. “I’m so tired.” 
Jungkook chuckled, his fingers squeezing your cheeks, making your pout grow. “Aw, poor thing.” He dove in, kissing you slowly. You could still taste yourself on his tongue, from when he had eaten you out earlier. “My girl’s tired.” He touched his forehead on yours, keeping eye contact. You felt like he was looking at you under a microscope, watching every blink of your eyes, every twitch of your muscles. “Let me take care of you, princess, hm? Promise I’ll treat you right.” 
Frankly, you had no fucking idea if you’d be able to take it. Even if Jungkook did all the work, you still felt a bit worn, light-headed. You wanted to, however. And the squeezing of your pussy around his cock only made it more obvious. “You will?” You asked, hopeful. 
Jungkook hummed in agreement. “Of course, you’ve been such a good girl for me,” his lips were brushing on yours as he spoke, his hand caressing your thigh, tracing faint circles on the skin. “You made my cock so hard again, baby. Can you feel it inside you? How big and heavy it is?” 
That managed to get a soft whimper from you, hips just slightly rolling against him. It was true, Jungkook was hard inside you, filling you up to the brim, begging to cum inside you again. “Y-Yes,” you stuttered. “So big.” 
“It's all yours, baby,” he said, raising his lower body just a little so you could feel him better. God, the sounds were so lewd, so wet, keeping you on edge. “Wanna try and see if you can squirt again for me, make a fucking mess on my cock?” Jungkook asked one more time, placing a kiss on your nose. Something rather cute for the filthy words leaving his mouth. You only nodded, which he didn’t appreciate. “Use your words, princess.” 
Your eyes closed for a little, mind working overtime to push those words out of your throat. “Yes, please,” you finally agreed. “Want you to cum inside me again too.”
Jungkook groaned, lips tracing down your neck, kissing your skin. “Fuck, I want that so bad,” he cursed, tentatively rutting up to you. You gasped, so tight and perfect for him. “Gonna make you drip down my cock, baby. Lay down for me.” 
And you did. 
Maybe Jungkook was too much sometimes. But you could take it. 
Other nights, you felt like you were dreaming. 
Equally as rare as the moments in which Jungkook went all-out, were the ones in which he held back almost completely. Moments in which he moved so languidly, so patiently; in which he touched as if you were made of porcelain, about to crack if given enough pressure. In those nights, he fucked you slow, deep, losing himself in the way you wrapped around him, wishing he could prolong that sensation to infinity. It wasn’t about instant gratification, it was about feeling you, having you, giving you everything you wanted and more. 
It was fire and ice, the contrast between his two moods. In some mind-bending way, it was almost more challenging to keep up with that, your body always aching for more, begging for him to move faster, to fuck you harder. You were used to Jungkook being too much — asking for a lot, taking a lot — but not so familiar with him being so calm, loving, restrained. It always felt like it was too little, like you were swimming in a lukewarm pool, a hypnotized state of bliss, until your orgasm hit you out of nowhere. 
You didn’t know what you prefered. But you didn’t really have to choose. 
Jungkook let out a shaky sigh against your skin, a slow roll of his hips that made his cock brush over your sensitive spot. Your hips fidgeted in his hold; he placed a tender kiss on your neck. “So fucking perfect, baby,” he husked out, lips dancing on your skin; hot tongue coming out to lick your pulse. “My girl’s so fucking perfect.” 
You felt like you had a fever, your orgasm building up so slowly, yet so intensely, that you couldn’t even keep your eyes open. His body was pure heat on top of yours, pressing down on you, pulling you up against his chest. “Kook,” you called, voice just above a whisper. “I’m close.” 
He nodded, leaning back a little so he could kiss you. His lips were swollen against yours, gradually parting, allowing for his tongue to slip inside. The way Jungkook made out with you was dizzying, overbearing, earning a faint whimper from you as he sucked on your tongue. He moved away a little, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “You’re amazing, princess,” he praised, slightly breathless, one inked hand trailing down your arm, curling around your wrist before settling against your palm. Jungkook interlaced his fingers in yours, and smooched your lips once again. “Wanna see you cum for me.” 
“Please,” you whined back — asking for your release, asking for him to pick up the pace; anything. It felt too intimate, too vulnerable, like you could move around a little and it would all be over. You could feel his heartbeat against your breasts, his grunts echoing inside your head as you tightened around his cock. “I can’t…” 
With a tight squeeze of his hand on yours, you grounded yourself once again. “Shhh, it’s okay,” he guaranteed, “let go for me.” 
And you did, because you couldn’t hold it back any longer. Your walls fluttered around his cock as you reached your high; your sobs and moans being silenced by the sloppy crash of his lips against yours. Jungkook swallowed everything you gave him, found heaven in the muffled cries of his name, the way you were dripping down his length, making his cock throb. 
“Fuck,” he cursed out, breaking the messy kiss. His jaw was clenched, eyes closing as he started to pick up the pace a little. “Good girl... shit— gonna make me fucking cum.” 
The grip on your hand got impossibly tighter, his other hand hooking under your knee, pushing your leg up so he could get a better support. Jungkook was going faster now, but nowhere near his usual pace. Some nights, he just wanted to pay attention to your body — the little sounds you made, the bouncing of your tits, that pretty, overwhelmed look you gave him as he pounded into you. He could look at that forever, die in the way your glossy eyes stared up at him. 
It made him go a little crazy sometimes, how much he loved you. How much you felt like the first inhale of air after being underwater for too long; how your body fit his own like it was made for him. And, when he was nearing his high, he had to be careful, because all of that started to come out. “Baby, baby,” he moaned, so close that he was losing his grip on you. “Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect, made for me, so fucking pretty for me, all mine,” Jungkook was rambling a little now, gasping as your walls clenched around him again. “Shit, wish I could fuck you forever, your pussy feels so fucking good,” almost there, he thought. It was like his body was leaving him on edge, prolonging that euphoric feeling until it consumed him. “Gonna fill you up so good, baby.” 
It was your turn to hold his hand tighter, a small sob perishing in your chest. “K-Kook,” you called, voice so tiny that he almost didn’t hear at first. “P-Please, cum inside me.” 
“Yeah, baby,” He choked up. “Fuck—“ 
Jungkook came right after, his cock throbbing inside you as he released his thick cum inside your pussy. He cursed as you tightened around him again, milking every drop out of him as he tried to prolong his high, thrusting into your wet heat a few more times. 
With a final sigh, he laid on top of you, careful not to squeeze you with your weight. “You make me crazy, princess,” he mumbled against your neck, placing an affectionate kiss on your skin. His hand was still in yours, holding tightly, unwilling to let go anytime soon. “I’m so fucking lucky.” Another kiss, higher this time, on your cheek. He felt you smile, and he did the same. “So perfect for me.” 
You giggled, allowing him to kiss your lips again. “You’re so dramatic.” You pushed his sweaty hair away from his forehead. 
“I’m serious,” Jungkook said. Two, three more pecs on your mouth; his nose bumping against yours. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” 
You smiled, pulling him into a kiss. It was odd how, even when he gave you so little, Jungkook was still so much.
taglist > 
@minyoongiboongi  @bvrrym0re  @shojotae @youurkryptonite @fan-ati--c@btstrasht @crazy4myself @ft-multi @kooafraid @dianaaviny @ggukkieland @cryinginmypromdress @kissestothesky @imluckybitches @gyukult @namjeonii @gamerkooks @study-clouds @myanswer-is-you @pb-n-juju @disaster-rose @spicybangtanwings @fairymagdalene @seagulljk @she-is-dreaming @jjktthpmj1 @pinkysunsett  @1aekooks @jkficsiliketoread @ellesalazar @wearenot7withu @codeinebelle @erraaxh @lovelyloverlia @dayjeons @illwritetomorrow @dreamsindreamss @limee7 @pixiejjk @dancing-queenf @storms-and-stars-blog @un-love @knjoobs @yopjm @pixiejjk @hayounnnnngggggggg @park-hera-gi @eatmiso @di0rgguk @guksunshine @dchimminie @mercurygguk @ilillyshadow@ruclements @tatajoonie @holdinbacksecrets @isabellepoque @yoobikook @mygscafe
1K notes · View notes
kimnjss · 2 months ago
cyberslut (sneak peak)
Tumblr media
banner by: @dee-ehn​
🖇 synopsis:
— he has no idea who you are... up front, you’re sweet and innocent - but in reality you’re the exact opposite. running your own nsfw account, where your favorite topic is his hands.
[ cyberslut: a person who will act openly sexual on the internet, yet in real life will act prudent and contained. ]
Tumblr media
pairing: jock(fuckboi)!yoongi x nerdy(virgin)!reader
fic type: social media au
side ships: LMAO TBD.
genre: smut!! college au, secret identity, tutoring au, slight themes of infidelity... 
warnings: yoongi and his friends are dicks :/ - yn is way too horny all of the time... there’s a lot of sexting... no full nudity. 
coming: june 1st
updates: everyday.
A/N: timestamps make sense throughout the fic. if u want to be added to the tag list, send me an ask! + if you’ve asked to be on my permanent taglist, you do not need to ask to be added to this one !!
Tumblr media
974 notes · View notes
1kook · 9 days ago
Jungkook + enemies to lovers 😫
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
are yall okay
e2l + teacher au + dilf jk
As a kindergarten teacher, you’ve kind of been conditioned into being a nice person. After all, you spent most of your day surrounded by people with missing front teeth and shoes that light-up— it’s hard to be mean to children. Especially when they’re all so cute and squishy, have the doughiest cheeks on the planet and say the funniest made up words like, “bazillion-jillion” and “jiggly-wiggly.” They were endearing and they were sweet, often making your day without even meaning to.
The same couldn’t be said for their parents.
Areum is sitting in the reading area, backpack neatly placed atop her desk, when her father arrives. Clad in the same dark suit as always, Jeon Jungkook looks extremely out of place in your colorful classroom. “Daddy!” Areum beams, and he has the decency to at least kiss her forehead hello before jumping headfirst into battle with you.
Jeon Jungkook is a single dad, a fact Areum had randomly decided to disclose to you one afternoon in the sandbox, as children do, so you know he has a lot on his plate. Between working and raising a little girl, you imagine it’s difficult for him to unwind. The dark circles under his eyes are a force to be reckoned with, but you suppose it sort of adds to the sexy dad vibe he’s got going on.
(Not that you could ever say that to his face.)
And as understanding as you want to be of his situation, Jungkook is a little… annoying. He’s a good dad! That fact cannot be denied. But even you can look past your sympathy shades to say that scheduling his fifth parent-teacher meeting of the month is a little excessive.
He has this rather incessant fixation with arguing about her grades, convinced— as most parents are —that his kid is the smartest in the world. So even before Jungkook sits down, you already know what he wants to discuss. His briefcase hits the corner of your desk with a thud, before he flashily draws out a red sheet of craft paper from its depths, Areum’s art project from last week. Doesn’t even offer you a greeting. “This is definitely worth an A+.”
You sigh, pressing your hands against your face. “Mr. Jeon,” you begin slowly, “I’ve explained before that her art projects are not graded solely on the quality, but on her ability to follow instructions as well.”
Jungkook bristles, letting the sheet flutter onto your desk. Areum glances over from behind the kid-sized bookshelf, gives the two of you this pointed look as if she’s the adult in the room trying to reign in two fighting kids. The worst part is that it actually works; in a quieter voice, Jungkook hisses, “Areum’s art is good— I think you just hate my kid.”
Your jaw drops. “What—“ you blurt out, belatedly remembering to keep it down. You push yourself to your feet, arms crossed over your chest. “I do not hate anyone’s kid,” you spit, “much less one as as sweet as Areum.”
Jungkook’s jaw twitches, hands on his hips. “I know she’s sweet,” he spits, briefly glancing over at where the topic of your heated interaction is flipping through a a butterfly book. “Sweet and talented, which is why she should’ve gotten an A+, and not a B+.”
You roll your eyes. “Again, not based on her talent only, Mr. Jeon.” Like a kid, he copies your pose, the sleeves of his suit a little strained as his muscles bulge beneath the fabric. He even looked hot when he was mad. You stomp that thought down, whirling around to reach for Areum’s weekly performance review which you hastily slap down onto your desk. “Look,” you huff, flipping through the sheets carefully held together with a pink paper clip, “she’s good at art, but struggles a little with the instructions.”
Jungkook’s sighs, the sound practically a growl from how it catches in the back of his throat. And despite the annoyance wafting off of him in waves, he tries to subtly lean closer to get a look at your notes. He doesn’t drop his stance, doesn’t even apologize for coming on so rudely— not that it’s the first time —without knowing the situation. He remains as on edge as he was when he first walked in. “‘Needs to have instructions repeated multiple times,’” he recites, eyeing your detailed review.
You nod, trying to push the paper closer to him; Jungkook is standing a little too close now, the scent of his cologne tickling your nose. “She tends to get ahead of herself,” you explain, glancing over. You nearly flinch when he looks back, so close. His gaze is solid and unwavering, meeting yours with a serious glint in his as he listens carefully to what you’re saying. “She needs to work on listening first and then doing.”
For a minute, Jungkook doesn’t say anything, choosing to just rub his hand against his chin as he mulls over the information you’ve just presented him. And while standing beside this awfully gorgeous yet slightly hardheaded man is a little overwhelming, it’s better than having him accuse you of hating his five year-old kid. Areum peeks over and you offer her a tight-lipped smile, which she returns with her own sparkly grin. It eases your nerves.
“Okay,” Jungkook suddenly announces, clapping his hands together. The sound makes you jump, makes Areum run over too. He points a finger your way. “So help her improve her listening skills,” he says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. “That’s your job, right?”
You frown. “My job is to teach her,” you correct, unimpressed. “A child’s listening skills are something they usually develop at home.”
“At home?” he repeats, mindlessly placing his huge hand on the top of her tiny head. Areum’s got the same dark brown hair as him, the same glossiness and all, too. “So can’t you just come over and help her?”
You choke. “What?” you cough, flustered at Jungkook’s suggestion and how easily it’d rolled off his tongue. “I’m her teacher, Jungkook, not her tutor or nanny or whatever.”
“Miss __ is gonna come over?” Areum exclaims, clinging to her father’s pant leg.
“No,” you rush to correct, trying to respond in a way gentle enough for Areum but blunt enough for Jungkook. “That would be very inappropriate of me, Areum.” The aforementioned father rolls his eyes, stuffs the hand not petting Areum’s head into his pocket.
“Why?” she asks, as most kids do.
You sigh, straightforward in the glare you send Jungkook. “Only people you know and like should be going to your home, honey,” you try to explain, offering her the best, if strained, smile you can muster.
Areum blinks. “But I know and like you,” she says, and you’re touched for all of two seconds before she feels the need to tack on, “and Daddy likes you, too.” You freeze and it’s Jungkook’s turn to jolt in surprise. Areum pushes on. “Yeah, Miss __,” she nods, seemingly recalling a far distant memory. “Daddy calls you the pretty lady from school, mmhm.”
The blood rushes to your face. Jungkook jumps to his own defense. “No,” he chuckles nervously, trying to play it off as he glances between you and his child, “that’s— I didn’t say that, Areum.”
Another frown from the tiny human dead set on embarrassing the two of you. “What? But Daddy, you always ask about Miss__ and you always wanna visit school just to see—“
He interrupts her with a loud cough, cheeks aflame. Not that you’re any better, suddenly unable to look him in the eye. “We should, um,” Jungkook stammers, reaching for his briefcase, “head home now. Yes.” You nod meekly, clumsily handing him Areum’s art project before he can forget it on your desk. Your hands bump and the both of you stumble over each other’s apologies, choppily bidding each other goodbye.
“Bye, Miss __!” Areum calls, unaware of how she’s just reduced two functional adults into stuttering messes. Jungkook, who you previously wanted to throttle for being so annoying and insistent, spares you a shy glance that sends a tingle down your spine. “You can come over whenever you want! Daddy can make you dinner.”
914 notes · View notes
soobsfae · 14 days ago
Tumblr media
summary. daddy and mommy issues all around made you feel bad for your son’s best friend. you just hadn’t realized the care you held him with while growing up was being greatly misinterpreted. much less would you realize the way he watched you, but you felt great catching the eye of a young college boy at such an age.
pairing. milf!yn x son’s best friend!jk
genre. yandere, stalking. smut (little piece but it’s smut!!!)
warnings. curse words, forced pregnancy, poking holes in condom, religious parents, mentions of abortion, birthing, cheating, riding, wet dreams, lots of talks of wetness, inexperienced jungkook, age gap, stalkingx voyeurism, unsafe sex, unprotected sex, cum talks, mommy kink, scenes with throw up, overall pregnancy, jerking off, CORRUPTION KINK!!! and i’ll put more if it needs any!
word count. 10k
authors note. baeeeeeeeessss it’s finally here!!! my jk fic!!!! it’s quite a long one shot but i hope u all really really really enjoy it!! it’s not the hardest yandere but i think it’s along the lines!!!! thank u for reading!! pls try and reblog to get this to other ppl!! don’t be afraid to send me asks about any of my series or to just talk!! (and super sorry for any mistakes, im posting this at work and haven’t had the chance to proofread!)
Tumblr media
You weren’t as old as you thought you’d be when you had your kid. You were at the ripe age of 24, which weirdly enough, your OBGYN said was common to begin. You didn’t want to begin so young. You loved to travel, be introduced to different cultures and embrace them with their people. Everyone had always been so welcoming in your travels— something you didn’t have in your small town.
When your college sweetheart had told you he wanted to go raw, you fought him on it. Time and time again did you have to remind him that you would not fuck him without protection, and he always argued right back with you. Your girlfriends were begging you to break-up with his sorry ass, and you had finally mustered up the courage to do so. So on that eventful Monday morning, you awoke, excited to be free from such a suffocating relationship. It just hadn’t set in until after breakfast how nauseous you really were. And like a riverbank that had bursted through a man made wall, did all you had eaten that morning and night before, hit you.
You felt groggy the rest of the day, an ache settling in your stomach. It was shrugged off as bad food, and at your cheap college, there was no doubt that you’d get sick anytime soon. And so the time came to break-up with Seokjin, your stomach still cramping at every second as you walked to meet him on the campus gazebo. You were out of breath once you got there, Seokjin holding you upright as the pain began to throb throughout your body.
The suffocating man had rushed you to the hospital, knowing deep within what you had met up with him to do. All of the signs were there, but he didn’t want to let you go. And he’d do everything to not let you. It’s exactly why a huge smile broke out on his face once the doctor came back into the room with your lab results. His plans had worked— and you wanted nothing more than to get rid of his child growing within you.
The doctors and nurses congratulated you, assuring you that your pains were completely normal, it was simply your womb expanding. You hated every second of your parents cooing at you, as well as Seokjin’s. If you weren’t suffocated enough before, you felt as if there was no room to breathe any longer. Your life was being sucked out of you and you had no way to stop it.
Your parents had sent you a hard smack at the mention of an abortion. They swore and cussed and yelled their holy scripture at you, as if they were emitting a demon out of your body. As if you weren’t your own person, capable of making decisions. But you weren’t strong enough to fight your parents on it. Everyone knew. It was too late.
Five months later, your huge belly made your back ache terribly. Even more so when you walked down the church aisle, ready to meet Seokjin at the end of it. The white dress cascaded around your body, red carpet adorning your path. Five months and you hadn’t made peace with the thing growing within you. You felt like a terrible person as the mother’s from your birthing and parenting classes explained the happiness they felt as their tummy grew bigger. You felt nothing but disappointment as your stomach began to stretch and leave behind red marks of the being within you. You didn’t want to be those neglectful mothers who resented their children, but at the pace you were going, that was exactly how it would end up being.
The hospital had to induce your pregnancy. You were postterm, the kid within you refusing to come out on it’s set date, having gone two weeks after. You were sure the shock that would course throughout you at a natural water breaking pregnancy would help your nerves, but alas, nothing went your way.
You cursed and you yelled and you swore to Seokjin that you’d divorce him as soon as the baby was out. All of which went ignored by every official in the room as your husband held onto your hand. You squeezed the life out of him as a human bursted out of you. You waved your arm at the nurse as she carried your son to you, you were far too tired to carry such a chubby baby. After the proper procedure of being cleaned up, you had fallen asleep quickly.
Awakening to a sleeping Seokjin and a babbling baby, you get up from your bed, a strong ache in your uterus, but you ignored it the best you could. The boy laid beautifully in his crib, eyes still shut as he was freshly born. He was making small babbling noises, a laugh coming from you as you watched him, you hadn’t read of a newborn making much noise, making you believe you had a smart kid. Perhaps it was the hormones that were still crazy inside of you, but carrying him in your arms made you silently cry. Watching him, tears in your eyes, heart swelling with love you hadn’t known you had, you were certain you would love until the end of your time.
It was clear to everyone how badly Seokjin wanted to leave his life. His wife no longer put out, only carrying for their baby boy, he was always in a rut at work and he was certain he wanted no more kids. Jimin was more than enough work for him, not that he did much for the boy but provided a roof over his head.
You spent every waking hour with your favorite boy in the world, letting him dance his heart away as he had wanted since he watched Dirty Dancing by accident. You helped him with his homework, you took him to his play dates, you bought him everything he could ever want— and you taught him so unbelievably well. Every teacher conference was spent talking about how well behaved he was, how friendly he was with others, and how smart he was. He was your entire life, which is why you felt like losing it when he came home with a bloody nose.
“What the hell happened?” You rushed to your eight year old, tissues at hand as you delicately helped him. The streaks on his face told you he had sobbed, but he no longer was, rather, there was a smile on his face.
“Mom! Remember that boy who wouldn’t stop bullying me?!”
“Baby, did he do this to you? That’s it! His parents can not let such a brat run around and hurt people!” You were enraged, rushing off to your landline, ready to call Jungkook’s godforsaken parents.
“Momma, no!” Your boy chases after you, looking like a complete maniac with a bloodied face and a smile on his face. “It’s okay! It wasn’t him! He stood up for me today! He told the other bullies that I’m his best friend and they can’t mess with me again!”
You look down at your short human, worry etched into your face. He was sweet. Too sweet for this world, clearly, smiling even when he should be crying at an injury. It terrified you how much he would get teased and how he would take it, “they’re just having bad days.” He’d explain to you, defending the bad people in the world.
You sit the boy down on the kitchen island, his short legs swinging joyfully. You shakily grabbed a cloth, running warm water over it. There were many times where you went momzilla and screamed your lungs out at the idiots in his school, which landed your boy to not talk to you for days. Trying your best from embarrassing him or pushing him further from your hold, you wipe his face down, praying to any god out there that those boys would get what’s coming to them.
“You know,” you sigh, holding the boy's face to look at you. His chubby cheeks were puffed out at you as he watched you. “You're entitled to feeling angry or sad.”
“But what’s the point?” He asks curiously, eyes shining as they usually did. “Dad tells me things won’t get solved if I cry or yell, I have to be a man and deal with it.”
“Your dad was raised to believe in such preposterous things but you… I’m telling you right here, right now; You can be sad and angry with me. All those feelings that people think are ugly— feel them with me, okay?”
“Don’t you want to see me happy?”
“Of course, but these feelings… they’re part of life, okay? When you feel sad and hold it in for too long… you’ll only get more sad. It’ll overcome you and that messes with your happiness. I know it’s too much for you to understand right now but… you will one day, and until then, don’t hide any of your feelings, okay?”
The boy shakes his head, still confused at the different things his parents taught him. You frown softly at the clear confusion in him, but you place a small kiss on his forehead. “Go get cleaned up, you’ll do your homework with your new friend and play after, okay?” You put the boy onto the floor when he runs off, earning him a scolding but he pays no mind as he excitedly continues off.
Hours had passed since Jungkook’s promised arrival time, but he was nowhere to be seen. Jimin was upset over getting ditched, but like the good mother you were, you helped him with his homework in your spacious backyard and played one of his sea monster games with him; and as always, you were the monster tasked with chasing after him. The hours were filled with laughter as you made sure to dodge him purposefully, setting off more excitement out of the kid.
“Hello?” A soft voice stops you in your spot, a joyful look still sprawled on your face. Your eyes land on a small boy, smaller than Jimin. He was shy, his eyes refusing to meet with yours or Jimin’s.
“Jungkook! You’re here!” Jimin rushes to the boy, tiny arms grabbing his arms, “let’s play over here!”
You watched the boys play, a loving smile on your lips. There was never a day when Jimin ever made you feel angry.
“Kim Jimin!” You yell out for your son. He was now sixteen and sporting the most atrocious of attitudes. It was the fifth time that week that he hadn’t turned in his homework, earning him an ‘I’ in his English class. You hadn’t even known that an ‘I’ existed, but there you were, about to scold your son for going as far as getting an incomplete.
“Chill out, lady.”
“Lady?” You scoff, both you and Jimin turning at the sound of your kitchen fridge opening.
“Just… pretend I’m not here.” Jungkook tells you two as he grabs himself a snack.
You sigh and turn back to Jimin. “Why haven’t you been turning in your assignments? Do you know what your grades are right now? All F’s and an ‘I’, Jimin, how do you manage to get that?”
“By not turning work in.” He shrugs, plopping down across Jungkook who now watched Jimin with wide eyes. He didn’t want to get caught between this, but it seemed like it was inevitable. “Plus, almost everyone in his class has that grade! He’s so unfair! He makes us do things we haven’t even gone over!”
“So you say something! Tell me, the principal! Don’t just stand there and not do anything!”
“What the fuck is the principal gonna do? She doesn’t care.”
“Yeah well, guess what? Saturday detention with her until you’re at least at a C minus.”
“Are you crazy? You can’t do that! That’s, like, child endangerment!”
“Yeah, well, watch me.” You couldn’t help the stubbornness within you at his own. The two of you were outstandingly petty, neither wanting to back down.
“Jungkook also has bad grades!”
“Well he’s not my kid, is he?!”
“You are such a b—”
“Finish that sentence and you’re… you’re… you’re out of dance!”
“God, you psycho! You know what?! It doesn’t even matter, I left on my own last month!” The boys stormed off, another one of his tantrums causing the entire house to shake on its hinges.
“Good! Cause you’re not going back!” You yell right back up the stairs, storming back into the kitchen and slamming the chair back in its place. The anger seething throughout you was too much to bear, tears springing out.
“I-I’m sorry.” Jungkook’s voice brings you out of your pity party. You turn to look up at your son’s best friend, wiping your tears away and sending him a small smile.
“It’s not your fault. He’s just… he hasn’t been the same since his father…” in a flash, Jungkook’s eyes turn angry at the mention of your husband.
“Is he moving out anytime soon?” He asks softly, as if he was worried he’d cross a line.
You turn away in shame, afraid to tell a living soul what your decision was. “Are you… are you staying with him…?” The tips of your fingers nervously tap against the kitchen island.
“I am.” You nod but quickly shove away the embarrassment in front of the sixteen year old boy. “But that doesn’t matter, okay?”
“It does though,” he sighs. “Is it for Jimin?”
“It’s for a stable home.” You grab yourself a bottle of water. “I’m sure you know… Jimin wasn’t entirely planned… I was in the middle of my senior year at college. I left and married. Who knew a prenup would matter if he’s the one who impregnated an intern— I shouldn’t be telling you this. Can you go up and check on him?”
The boy nods, grabbing his book bag and walking off, but not before asking you one last thing. “Are you really not gonna let him continue dancing?”
You chuckle and shake your head at the concerned best friend. “He thinks he was withdrawn but… his teacher was worried and his father’s still paying… so it’s just a matter of when he’s ready.”
“Baby!” You’re brought out of your trance, having previously been enjoying the summer sun on your soft skin. “Why are you home so early? I was going to pick you up!”
“I know, I know.” Jimin laughs, holding you close. “I had extra time to kill so Jungkook and I made it a road trip.”
“Where is that rascal?” You giggle, looking back to see your child’s best friend. His toned body was caught in the sun, locks beautifully cascading on top of his head. He was squinting, hands trying to cover the rays from blocking his view of you. There were tattoos deliciously drawn on his arms, standing out with the way his arms flexed.
“Jeon Jungkook.” You smile at the boy, making him drop the bags he was carrying.
“Mrs. Kim!” The boy floundered over to you, wrapping you up in a big hug.
“Look at you two,” you pull away from the strong boy’s arms and look at them both. “College is changing you!”
“Mom…” Jimin groans at your teary eyes. “We said no crying during visits…”
“I’m sorry!” You laugh as Jungkook wipes your fallen tears away. “It’s hard not to when my favorite men are so grown up already!”
“You sound old, mom.” Jimin whines as if he were still a kid, which you laugh off. You head back inside your home, Jimin by your side as he wraps an arm at your side, talking about his first year at his school. You could feel a strong and burning gaze on your back, your swimsuit revealing your well toned legs, but alas, you ignore it, deciding to put all of your attention on your favorite boy.
“By the way, are you staying over for a while?” You ask Jungkook as you prepare him and your son some lunch. Jimin had wanted to wash up, finally deciding that the stench he emitted during his trip needed to be washed away.
“Yeah, my parents are in Paris.”
“Lucky them.”
“Since campus is closing up, mind if I stay here for summer? They won’t be back for a while.”
“Sure, the guest room should be all set up right now. You know where the blankets are?”
“After years of fort building? Hell yeah.”
You laugh softly at the mention of his childhood years. He’d stay over at your house for days on end, his parents always off on trips. He always seemed so heartbroken when his parents upped and left, and your perceptive boy would try his best to make him happy. Pillow forts, camping in your backyard, trips to the mall— anything to make him feel better. He always seemed okay, but he’d crawl into your bed at night and sob his tiny heart out. You’d let him watch cartoons all morning and he’d be fine the next day for a brand new adventure.
“Why don’t you go out with Jimin tonight? I heard he’s meeting up with some high school friends.” You offer up to the boy.
“We didn’t really have the same friend group in high school…”
“But you’re still best friends, right? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”
“Trying to get me out of the house?” He teases, but the way your cheeks flush answers his question. His jaw clenched in anger, knowing exactly what was going on in your dirty mind.
“I’m not! I promise! Just thought it’d be nice, you know?”
“I’ll go.” Jungkook nods, a small smile falling onto your face.
“I’m sure you’ll have a blast!”
The first time Jungkook met Jimin, he knew he didn’t like him. Jimin was just so kind that it made him want to bully him. Which he did for a bit, but he got bored after a while— even going as far as inviting him for a play date during a bullying session. It irked him, but what could he do? Clearly bullying didn’t work for everyone.
The next time he saw Jimin, he was crying in his mother’s arms. He couldn’t see your face as you were facing away from him, but he could hear your soft and soothing voice. You whispered sweet and calming words to the hiccuping boy. His eyes trailed all around the boy’s figure for any sign of an injury but he was clean. Why were you crying if you weren’t in any pain? Jungkook thought as he watched the family moment.
“You know dad didn’t mean it, baby.” Your words caught his attention, bringing himself closer to the scene, the two of you too distracted to notice him. “He’s just… he’s stressed. He loves you so very much.”
“N-no he doesn’t!” He sobs harder in your arms, tears and snot falling down his face and onto your beautiful dark green shirt. “He… he said he di-di-didn’t want me! You don’t either!”
“That is not true, Jimin. I didn’t…. I didn’t have a life before you, bubba.” The way you held his face so gently had Jungkook reeling. His violent sobs made his head thrash around but you held onto him so carefully, so lovingly. “You are and will continue to be the only man in my life. Gosh, I can’t even explain how much I love you! Just like how you can’t explain how much you love to dance, remember when you told me that?”
The boy nods, sniffling harshly and tears still coming down. “That’s how much I love you! When you can’t find the words to explain it, so… wholeheartedly.”
“I don’t know what that means…” his sobs quieted down as you wiped his tears away.
You laugh at his words, leaving your boy smiling right behind. His eyes shone bright as you continued to assure him of how much you loved him. He watched the scene in front of him, curious. Curious as to what Jimin felt in the moment, what it felt like to be loved by those who brought you into the world. It seemed unattainable because in Jungkook’s eyes, no parent ever truly loved their kid, but for some reason unknown to him, he believed you. He could see from the tiny crouch you were sitting in and the way you comforted him back into laughter, you truly loved Jimin.
Mrs. Jeon used to believe in fate. She would tell her only son of the fateful night she met Jungkook’s father, who just happened to meet at a bus stop, then a grocery store, and finally at a tiny bar where they got the guts to speak to one another. She spoke of how madly in love they were. It was an epic romance, one that made Jungkook so unbelievably happy. That is until his father was arrested for fraud— which his mother bailed him out for. His family was never rich, only his mother’s family, which she left all behind for Mr. Jeon. They were never the same after that. You had heard your mother speaking to her best friend on the phone once, “I sold my soul back to my family. I can never forgive him for that. But it was Jungkook. I can’t raise him on my own.”
Not that they ever truly raised him, seeing as how both his parents began to work for hours on end for his grandparents' company. They were gone most of Jungkook's life, which Y/N knew of. He knew you felt pity for him, which was masked by concern mostly, but he lathered in it. Befriending Jimin had got to be the best decision he had ever made, not only did he make a best friend who listened to him and understood his twisted desires (or at least tried to nor did he judge), but he also got you. You watched over him like no other, took him shopping for school supplies, new clothes for the new school year, and kept him company when he’d be lonely at home.
It was a bit confusing to decipher his feelings for you at first— you were Jimin’s mother and you were practically raising him as well. Wouldn’t you sort of be a surrogate mother? That’s creepy, is it not? He was also only just sixteen, his hormones were messing with his head, so he tried to shake it off. That, of course, didn’t stop the way your beautiful tits bounced in his face as you rode him, or the way you slurped up every ounce of his cum in his dreams. He’d wake up with the biggest hard-on’s of his life, blood rushing to not only his dick, but his cheeks as you whistled in the kitchen of your home. The home you invited him into with open arms.
It dawned on him how much he truly loved you when he caught you in bed with another man. It didn’t even matter that you were technically cheating on Seokjin, he just hated seeing you with Mr. Min. Neither of you had noticed the boy as Yoongi drilled you from behind. You were moaning so loud, sure that neighbors could hear every single thing. He could still remember the sound of slapping as he came in his fist at the memories playing through his mind. The next day, Jungkook had left a note on his history teacher's desk— warning him to stay away from you or he’d never see the light of day. And he listened, only because he thought it was Mr. Kim, and it was far too much drama for him to deal with.
He would watch you in your bedroom since then, watching as you dressed, cried, talked on the phone with your sister, came undone by your own hand, checked your body out after a shower, danced naked in front of your mirror— and just about did anything that a person did in their own space. In fact, there wasn’t a day that Jungkook hadn’t felt as if he had used up all of his jizz limit for a lifetime, finding such pleasure in watching you. But he didn’t feel bad, not one bit. How could he when he felt so close to you? He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to touch you, so this was what he stuck with.
The thought of leaving you behind to go to college made him sick. He’d spent countless days bedridden, afraid to look at you for even a second. There were stacks upon stacks of accepted college letters sitting on his coffee table, but none of them were close to you. His best friend was worried of course, no one was able to get in touch with the teenager, and so Jimin sent his incredible mother to check on him.
And she did. She headed straight to Jungkook’s home, and when no one answered, she did the only thing she could do— she called Jimin over and made him help her sneak in. Jimin didn’t want his psycho mother to do such a thing, but in the end, he listened and helped her up into the window, shoving her in. The only reason Jungkook had known was because of how loud the pair were. You were cussing like no tomorrow and he was scolding you for every bad word that was uttered. It made him laugh, but he wiped it all away as you walked into his bedroom.
“Thank goodness.” You sigh, a weight of worry falling off your shoulders. “Are you okay? Why aren’t you answering? Are your parents home? I saw all of these.” You hold up the unopened college letters. “Why don’t we open them together?”
“They’re all acceptance letters.”
“Okay, you’re either way too cocky or… you’re manifesting acceptances. Which I guess both are fine.” You chuckle, walking closer to his bed. He suddenly felt self-conscious as you trip over some of his dirty laundry. You had never been in his room before, which was because you felt far too uncomfortable doing so, in the end, you weren’t really his mother— just another middle aged woman. He knew you weren’t sick like that but she couldn’t risk anything with the people in town. “Look… I get how terrifying it is opening these… It feels like a great part of your future lies within a few words. In some ways, it does but you can’t let a rejection stop you.”
He watches you as you take a seat on the edge of his bed. He knew he looked a mess, he’d been crying for days, ignoring his hygiene all the while. He just couldn’t find the will to care as he imagined all that he could do to you in the comfort of his bedroom. “It’s not that,” he clears his throat, hoping to get rid of such nasty thoughts for a while. “I just… I know I don’t have a family. I know that. But I… I can’t help but feel like I’m leaving something behind…”
“Okay, first of all. You do have a family. I’m sorry it’s not the one that should cherish you first and foremost, but you do. And I don’t know if that’s the right thing to say, because I don’t want to dismiss your problems, but I know this feeling. It’s the “college is too far from everything I know and love” feeling. And it’s terrifying, without a doubt. But you know what helped me feel so much better?” She asked him, and she took the way he hung onto every word that she could comingue. “Knowing that there was a home to come back to. And Jungkook, you do have a home to come back to. With me and Jimin. The Kim household loves having a Jeon, don’t you forget that.”
Jungkook couldn’t help but smile like a dork. He just loved you so much and although it was such motherly type of advice, the same type she had given her own son, he couldn’t help but want to kiss her.
“What school did Jimin get into?”
“Seoul University. Why?”
“Just…” he trails off softly, looking back down at all the letters in your hand. Spotting Seoul’s letter, he grabs it quickly and stares down at it. He sits silent for a while, staring at the letter, as if glaring it down will assure that he’d be accepted.
“It’s okay… you can open now, later today, or never. Whenever you want to.”
“I… I’m ready now.”
“Okay then, let’s go ahead and open it.” And all of his prayers were answered as he read those soothing words. There was no way he’d ever let go of Jimin now— not when all he’d have to do is come back home whenever he did and you two would be reunited.
Which left him in your home now. Nineteen years old, heading into his second year of college after summer break. He was laying in the guest bed, strong winds outside, which was reoccurring weather in your town during its hot days.
He had told you he’d go out with Jimin, but he backed out at the last second, not feeling up to getting drunk with his stuck-up friends. You weren’t home, having gone out for drinks with your husband, supposedly, which he knew wasn’t the truth. The two of you were only binded by law, nothing more, nothing less. It was irritating the way the man strolled around as if he didn't have a care in the world, all while he had a different family across the world— which he paid off to leave. Nonetheless, it was good that he was home often, because no matter how much Jimin swore he hated his father, he always wanted a relationship with him— and weirdly enough, Seokjin was fighting to build a bond with him.
“Shh! You can’t… you can’t make too much noise, okay?!” Jungkook sat up at the sound of your voice, you were clearly drunk out of your mind with your supposed whispering.
“I thought you said no one was home!” A man’s voice is heard followed by his giggles.
“There isn’t! But still… shh!” You laugh along with him.
Jungkook was quick to get up out of bed, getting closer to the bedroom door, hoping to hear all.
“Think Seokjin is hating his life right now?” The guy asks in laughter.
“God! I can’t believe he thinks I’m gonna sleep with you! You’re like… the gayest person I know.” The two of them fall into an even bigger fit of laughter, as if it was the funniest conversation you two had ever had.
“I told you this chasing thing would be fun!”
“He’s never paid this much attention to me. It’s crazy.”
“But hey, at least he’s trying, right?” The man slurs out. Jungkook listens intently at the mention of your “husband.” His chest tightened with the topic at hand, fearing what you were speaking off. “I mean… he’s not the worst looking. And his dick? Huge!”
“Hoseok! He had a kid with another woman! He poked holes in my condoms! I don’t think his big dick is gonna change anything.”
“Right,” the man scoffs. “Did that just, I don’t know, leave your mind yesterday?”
You sigh, a small giggle coming after. “He does know how to fuck me. But who cares? A lot of men know how to fuck! Doesn’t mean I should get back with one who betrayed my trust time and time again!”
“Look, I’m not saying he’s a saint. Or forget his past mistakes, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this devoted. I mean, look at him and Jimin!”
“I know…” you sigh for the umpteenth time. “He’s just… there’s just… it’s too much history. And I am thinking about Jimin. Do you know how long he’s wanted his parents together? It’s the kid's lifelong dream… but if he reverts back to his old ways? It’ll just be Jimin getting hurt.”
“He’s not eight anymore, he’s nineteen. He’s in college, partying and studying it up. Believe it or not, he’s creating a whole world, one that won’t revolve around you— hell, some of it won’t even involve you. You have to think of yourself now.”
“Why do we get so philosophical after a few shots?” Jungkook pulls away from the door as he hears you and your friend walking into your bedroom.
“I don’t know. Hey, I know I’m into men but you look so good right now.”
“Gasp, do you wanna fuck?” The distant chortles of laughter only brings Jungkook back to reality. How could you? Thinking of getting back with the man who only caused you so much pain… It was ridiculous. How could you go for such an old man like Seokjin when you could have anyone you’ve ever wanted? And hooking up with him? You could do so much better! Could the old man even fuck? It was insane how hard he got at the thought of trying out so many new things with you. But it was enough wishful thinking— he needed to do something now. He couldn’t let you fall back into Seokjin’s trap.
You awoke that Sunday morning with a pounding headache. You were clad in last night’s clothing, smeared mascara beneath your eyes. You felt silly. You weren’t a college student anymore. For god's sake, you were 43 years old and acting like there weren’t any consequences to your actions.
The scent of food caught your attention in the middle of showering, sweet music being heard. You rushed the rest of your routine, rushing to see what was happening in your beloved kitchen. Wrapping a simple towel around your body, you rush out, water dripping off your hair and onto your body.
There stood Seokjin, apron around his body as he whistled to the tune of his favorite song. “What’s going on here?” The man turns around to face you and the sound of your face. Your eyebrow was raised in curiosity, amusement coursing throughout you at the sight. “Our son also got home drunk last night, so I’m making the greasiest breakfast.”
“How’d he even manage that?” You grab the cup of coffee that Seokjin handed you. You take a sip of the warm drink, feeling euphoric as you lathered in its comfort.
“Don’t know. Probably has a friend with an ID.”
“Should we, like, get him in trouble?” You ask the man, the two of you looking at each other in confusion. The man shrugs, and you respond with one as well.
“Do you think he’ll listen to us?”
“Probably not.”
“Then… a light scolding?” He suggests.
“I should probably do it…” the room tenses for a second at the mention. It was no secret that Jimin continuously pushed his father away. Why wouldn’t he? He spent his entire life avoiding his father, and now he just wanted an in? It was only a healthy response with his trauma.
“That’s fine. I’ll reap what I sowed.” You almost felt bad as he turned right back around. And as angry as your past self would be, you now were thinking of forgiving him. It made you feel like an idiot, he wasn’t ever a good man before. Why would it be different now? His sudden change caught you off-guard, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the attention.
“Hey,” you walk towards the man, grabbing his wrist and making him turn to you. “He’ll come around, okay? Jimin… he’s… he’s kind. Keep doing what you’re doing and you’ll get in. It’s going to be a long and hard process but I can see how hard you’re working… just don’t stop.”
The two of you stand there as he soaks up your advice. He nods softly, accepting every word you spoke. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“The other night… we… I hadn’t felt that way in such a long time.”
Now was your time. You could either shut it down, or accept it. Would you be a fool? Yes, you would. But how could you say no? He’s what you know. Nineteen years together, even if it wasn’t romantic nor healthy at all times, it was scary having to start all over again. And you were selfish, you didn’t want to start all over again.
“Me… uhm… me either. You… I missed you.”
The smile that washed over his features made you smile. It couldn’t be the worst decision, right?
“Can I… can I kiss you?” The way he stutters nervously makes you laugh, nodding your head, he dips forward, capturing your lips with his. A kiss is shared between the two of you after fifteen years, not counting the drunken one from two nights ago. You were unsure as to how you felt as you pulled away, his forehead leaned against yours, as he sighed in happiness.
You spent the rest of the day with Jimin and Jungkook, enjoying their days back at home. It felt good to have them home, making you reminisce to the days you made them snacks and took them to the park. Jimin was being his usual self, trying his best to ignore your coos and hand holding. Jungkook, on the other hand, was being clingier than usual. You had gotten used to him as he grew up, and you always played it off as major mommy and daddy issues, which you didn’t mind. You felt bad for the kid and wanted to give him the best childhood possible.
Something felt… different though. He hugged you a bit too close, his hands always dangerously low, he fed you his food in such an intense manner— even going as far as shoving a man and telling him you were on a date in the next town over. You had scolded him and assured him you could take care of yourself, which he pouted at, in return making you feel bad and buying him a few shirts. Jimin was oblivious to it all as he let his mom spoil him, most of his attention on the clothes he yearned for throughout the school year.
“Be back home by midnight! We’ve got to head to grandma’s tomorrow!” You call out after Jimin and Seokjin. The two were heading out for dinner, where Seokjin would drop him off at a friend’s. You were certain Namjoon wasn’t just a friend, having spotted the hickies on his neck just yesterday, which you ignored. How were you supposed to ask your boy if the bruises on his neck meant he was dating? It scared you honestly, he was still a baby in your eyes.
You were ready to lounge around at home, Netflix ready with a couple of snacks. You felt like such a mother as you downed cups of red wine, which to be fair, you were. You just weren’t feeling the best. You were no longer the young thirty-year old cool mother, rather you were the 40 something year old mom whose kid was embarrassed to be around. And being viewed as an old person made you feel… gross. You had spoken to your mother about it but she shrugged you off, “you’re overreacting.” she had told you, in which you replied, “Yeah, probably.”
The sound of grunts brings you out your thoughts. The confusion swarming your mind doubled as you looked towards Jungkook’s room. You had almost forgotten that the young boy was home, too enthralled on your night off. Either way, you were unsure as to what was happening, but you were scared. He had been prone to panic attacks and his labored breathing sounded as if he could be falling into one. Putting your cup down, you tie the silk robe around your body, walking towards his room. The grunts and hard breathing were a lot louder as you got closer and closer.
“Jungkook?” You call out, gently knocking on his door. It was to no avail, as he continued to make his noises. You softly turn the doorknob, pushing the door open a tiny bit. It all sounded a lot louder and you were stuck in your spot at the sight ahead of you.
The sweet and innocent boy you once knew was no longer, not as he laid in his bed, dick in his hand as he moved his wrist up and down. He was throbbing, the tip a dark red, yearning for release. His pants were so loud, whiny moans filling your ears. It looked almost comical, he was such a big guy, one who you wouldn’t believe could make such noises. You wanted to apologize for disrupting such an intimate moment, but you didn’t want to reveal yourself, ready to leave.
“Y-Y/N.” The way he moaned your name made you believe he knew you were there, and while he did, that wasn’t why he spoke your name. His mind was filled with thoughts of you, yearning to hear you moan on his cock.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. You drive me crazy.” Your cheeks were flushed red at the sound of his frantic speech, but you quickly shut the door, taking a few steps back.
You were completely shocked. It had never dawned on you how he pined after you, sure he once told you he’d marry you— but he was ten years old. Ten year olds say ridiculous things. You’re. sure he asked you if a worm pees that day as well. You sprinted to your room, hoping to wash the last few minutes away. You wanted your innocent Jungkook back. You hid under your blankets, trying to think of anything but the boy pleasuring himself to the thought of you.
You awoke in a flush, your dream plaguing your mind. Your panties felt wet, breath labored. The silk robe stuck to your skin, having forgotten to take it off before falling asleep. You felt shame washing over you in a wave of heat at the wet dream you had just had. The feeling of Jungkook’s tongue all over your body was enough to get you soaking, which was completely insane. No one had ever made you feel so dirty.
“Is it really that crazy?” You jump at the sudden voice. You felt your heart beating out of your chest as you turned to look at Jungkook who was sitting on the empty chair in your room. He was clad in a white tee, grey sweats wrapping around his luscious thighs. “You’ve never once thought of this? Of fucking me? Letting me eat your sweet pussy?”
“J-jungkook… what are you… stop this.”
“Cause I have. God, I’ve wanted to taste you for so long. I want you to come on my tongue. My dick. My face. I want to take you everywhere we go. Everything you do is so fucking hot.”
“I won’t tell anyone about this, okay? Just go to bed.” And you didn’t want any of it. You wanted to go back to bed, wait for Seokjin to jump into bed with you.
“Hearing you moan my name… god, I just about came in my pants. Can you believe that? You’re making me act like the horny sixteen year old that came at the sight of you bending over.”
“You’re insane.”
“Who cares, love?” He stood across from you, hand traveling to the back of your neck. His eyes were dark, traveling all around your figure. Your palm felt sweaty at the close proximity. The strong grip of your hair made you groan, the pain throbbing throughout your head, but it felt so good. “I want to make you feel good. Can I do that?”
“Jungkook… no, we can’t do this.”
“Yes we fucking can.” The way he roughly placed his hand over your wet shorts had you reeling. The moan that you released only made his pants tighten more around him. “Tell me you want me.”
“Jungkook, n-no.”
“Say you fucking want me.” The way he rubbed the palm of his hand around you made you want to rub up on him even more. “I-I know this feels sudden… but I-I want you so bad… and I know you want me too.”
“Jin’s al-almost home.”
“I want him to hear us. I want him to hear how fucking wet you are for me.” The boy shoves you back onto the bed, pulling your panties off harshly. There was no time to lather in the beauty of your purple underwear, not when his fingers were quick to dip into your folds. And he was right, you were sopping wet, his fingers dripping as he rubbed for a second and pulled away. The throaty whine you let out was enough to answer Jungkook— you wanted him just as he wanted you.
“M-Mrs. Kim…” he whines as he watches you writhe beneath him in pleasure. His fingers were going at a much quicker pace against your clit, every single sensation making your toes curl. It had been a long time since someone had fucked you real good, albeit you did sleep with Seokjin not too long ago, but as big as he was, he had lost his touch. He was no longer the man who could go hours on hours making you cum again and again— he didn’t have the stamina for it. Jungkook on the other hand, he seemed nervous and clumsy, but he hit every spot deliciously.
“Do you know how hot it is… your pussy is just tight enough for me.” Jungkook growls into your neck as he continues caressing you. “It almost makes me nervous. You-you’re so experienced.”
“‘M… doesn't matter.” You gasp between his kisses. “Make me feel good, baby.” It was his final straw— the same name you called Jimin, was being used on him. Just as it happened in his dreams of you, it felt unreal.
He was quick to flip you over, sitting you on top of his hot body. The blush tinting his face made him all the more cuter, something you hadn’t known you were into. You felt so powerful on top of him, his strong form feeling so weak beneath you.
“I-I want you to fuck yourself on me.” The nervousness to his tone overpowers the confidence he wanted to show you. His stutter made you laugh, a pout forming on his face.
“Don’t call me that.” The grip he held on your wrists frightened you, but you shrugged it off, your arousal trumping all.
“Baby…” you groan as he softly humps himself on you. You were sitting directly on his clothes member, the friction against you overwhelming your senses. “Are you… are you a virgin?”
The whine he let out was delectable. “I-I’ve been waiting for you.” Your face went flush at his revelation, but you felt so good. How could such a beautiful boy be so attracted to you? You had taken notice of what the passing years were doing to your body, your boobs were a lot less round as they used to be, and the hair you liked to wax into a Brazilian, was growing those familiar grey hairs. You hadn’t felt sexy in a long time— but watching the boy slowly go crazy over your body, it made you want to keep going, no matter how fucked up it was.
“You’re such a good boy.” You coo at the boy, in turn having his ears turn red at the praise. “Do you want m-mommy to make you feel good?”
“Yes, please. God, please make me feel good, mommy.” He was on the verge of tears at how hard he was. He was throbbing beneath you, pulsating at your every move. “I want to feel you. Please, please…” he pleads. “R-ride me…”
“Okay, baby, let me grab a—”
“No, no condom… I want to feel you. Can you do that for me?” The way his chest rose up and down made you feel even more weak for him.
“Okay, anything for you… to make your first time special…” you nod, lifting your night dress over your body, tossing it off to the side. The way he watched your tits, with so much want, as if you were the most beautiful person he’s ever laid his eyes upon— it riled you up. “I don’t think you can hold out my mouth, so I want you to cum in me, and I want you to enjoy yourself— don’t hold back.”
“I-I won’t.” He stutters out. And just like that, you lay him back down against your fresh duvets, clambering over him. Your slick traveled down onto his cock at the smallest of touch, leaving him dripping wet alongside you. The lengthy moan he released as you sat yourself on him, makes you clench. He was sputtering out random words, mind enthralled on your warm pussy. He slid in easily, and you wondered if it was a turn-off for him— how wet and easy it was to do so, but the way he shook beneath you answered your question. He didn’t care that you felt used up, he didn’t care that you were far older and had gotten around for quite some time. He just wanted you. And that’s what pushed you to move your body on him.
It made you feel so good seeing him whine and moan beneath you. To know that you were the first person to corrupt his mind, making him filthy with you. Your arms were placed up against his chest as you rode yourself on his cock, both of you making the loudest of noises at every move. You didn’t expect much from his first time, which is why he came inside of you five minutes later— but you continued to ride him. The overstimulation was almost too much for him, begging you to keep going but stop all at once. It was gratifying.
“I-I…” he lets out a lengthy groan. And with a couple of more soothing movements, you pull off of him. You had no release, but seeing him pant and dazed off at fucking you was enough pleasure.
You laid beside him, hand on his moving chest. A layer of thin sweat coated your hairline, your mind felt empty yet so full all at once. The boy you watched grow up had just cum inside of you. It was wrong. Completely wrong for you to love corrupting him.
His muscle filled arm is draped over your body as he drags you closer to him. His nose nudged into your neck, breathing in your smell as deeply as he could. “You smell like me.” He continues to rustle about with you, talking about his school life. At some point throughout the hour though, it dawned on you just how screwed you really were.
The past four weeks were stressful— you spent most of your waking hours away from your home. At the gym, at Hoseok’s home, or at the bar you frequented. Any second in which you had to spend time with Jungkook was quickly evaded, an excuse about your busy mother life being used. You couldn’t look him in the eyes— it felt as if you had taken advantage of him. But you were four glasses of wine in and he looked so good, and he thought you did too with the way he ate you out the next morning— which was done in the kitchen of your home as Jimin showered. It made you feel sick now, acting like a hormonal teenager with one, which he technically was. He's a nineteen year old college student, how could you? You watched him grow up. How could you ever face his parents? Your son? Your husband?
“Mom, let’s do something today.” Jimin sighs as he drops himself onto your bed. The sheets you had damaged were long gone, having bought new ones the next day.
“What do you want to do?”
“Hmm… I don’t know.” He lays his head onto your lap. “Are you feeling good enough to go to my favorite seafood place?”
You shake your head, feeling the bile at just the thought of seafood. “Maybe a park? Have one of those picnics you used to love.”
“With the red velvet cake?” He asks with a hopeful look as you sift through his soft hair with your gentle hands.
“Are you kidding? It’s not a picnic without it!”
“I’ll grab the sunscreen, basket, and blankets!”
“I’ll grab the money!” You laugh as your son jumps around, excited to spend time with you. Although you often found yourself frowning at the way he tried to “act manly” and ignore you, it was nice times like this that made you so grateful for him. His rebellious phase was long gone and now was a sweet hard working boy who thanked his mother for where he was now. It made you tear up as you remembered his class president graduation speech. He spoke of the hard times he went through at the start of his high school career and how you hadn’t thought for a second to give up on him— and he mentioned his best friend. The only other person in his life who understood him, who stood by his side and told him when he was being the worst person he could be. Thinking of it made you sad, Jimin would be so utterly hurt if he found out what you did with his other half.
“Should we grab this, too?” He points at the huge rotisserie chicken spinning on the heated display.
“Think we can finish it?”
“Hell yeah! I’m a growing man, mother, I can do it.”
“Okay, big boy.” You laugh him off, continuing down the aisle of food. You continued to skim around the shelves, in search of the sweetest snack you could find. There were no more cinnamon balls that you munched on during your pregnancy, which is what you had been craving for a good while. You cursed out the person who discontinued such a yummy snack as you grabbed a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal. It was the closest you would come to.
Walking out of the breakfast and baked goods aisle, you were met with the fresh meat department. The red and bloody sight made your stomach churn with disgust. The smell seemed to hit you a lot harder than usual, clearing your throat in hopes of ignoring the way you wanted to upchuck. But getting the smell of the cut up fish on display was the final straw, your mouth blowing up as your bile made its way up. Ignoring your cart full of snacks, you rush to the bathroom, pushing a young girl out of the way to get into her stall. You gagged as it came out of you, the girl ignoring her anger and turning worried at your sick self. You continued to throw out the contents of your previous meal, an ache growing in your stomach.
“A-are you okay?” The unknown girl asks as she helps you by holding your hair out of your face. You could tell how grossed out she was, but she mustered up the courage to help, making you feel grateful as she put your clean hair down afterwards.
“Is there anything I can do for you? Bring you some medicine?” You shake your head, hands shaky at the suddenness of the moment.
“I’ll be fine. Just… been feeling queasy for a while.” That’s when you take notice of her pretty belly. It was beautifully round with a kid inside of it, making her frame look tinier. It always left you in awe at how pretty those pregnant bellies looked.
It wasn’t until the strong ache in your stomach hit once more that you realized it all. The pains you had been getting were so familiar. The pain filled moments felt like the ones Jimin put you through as he stretched out your womb, your sudden cravings for the sweetest snacks you could find, and the nauseating feeling at the smell or thought of seafood. It was all you had felt whilst pregnant with your boy.
“Actually…” you look up at the young woman. “Could you buy me a, uhm… a pregnancy test? I’ll pay you back. I just… I can’t go out there.”
“Of… of course!” The woman storms out of the restroom as if she weren’t carrying a human inside of her. It almost made you feel jealous as to how much energy she seemed to have— you could barely handle walking up a flight of stairs when you were that big.
You sat in the women's restroom, nervous as you awaited her. You couldn’t be pregnant— you’re forty-three years old! You were either the most fertile woman on the planet or you were overthinking. You hoped it was the latter.
The girl wasn’t hasty with it, quickly handing you the test. She waited alongside you, talking to you about the most random of things, having sensed the stress you were feeling. Your leg bounced up and down repeatedly as the test faced down the sink. You glared at the stick, wishing for a negative. A negative would solve your issues, you’d be safe. You’d tie your tubes as quickly as you could when it came back negative.
The two lines staring back at you knocked the air out of your lungs. You were quick about the abortion plan, but the thought of it made you sad. You hadn’t wanted to abort the first with all your might, but as you laid your eyes on him for the first time, you were so unbelievably happy with your decision. What if it was the same with this kid? The only other problem was, who’s kid is it? Seokjin or Jungkook?
You had decided that the answer didn’t matter. You slept with Seokjin once again, in hopes of letting him believe he was the father. Which again, you weren’t sure of. Jungkook and Jimin left back for school, making you tear up at the sight of your boy leaving once more. Jungkook had tried time and time again to talk to you, but you kept it short and curt. You could tell how hurt he was by your change of heart, but you needed to put up boundaries.
You had made your appointments just fine, Seokjin going to every single one to hold your hand. He swore it was a sign that you two were meant to be, what with the ages you were both at. And maybe it was. You saw the change within him, and although you raised Jimin on your own, you knew he’d step up for the second. You didn’t have a hard life ahead of you. Even Jimin was excited, despite being a bit worried at first.
It was certain that Jungkook knew, but you continued to stick by the fact that the baby you were carrying was Seokjin’s. And when she was first born, you couldn’t tell. Seokjin was too in love with his daughter to notice anything off about her. It wasn’t until her skin began to build stronger, and her eyes were brightened that the looks began to kick in. She didn’t share any features with Seokjin. Not that anyone cared nor noticed, but it was all too weird for you as you stared down at your daughter and saw no one else but Jungkook in her.
It wasn’t until you got back home from a doctor's appointment that you felt more scared than ever before. Jimin was sleeping on the couch of his home, all while you could hear the familiar sounds of your giggling girl. You thought nothing of it until a familiar voice made you rush into the kitchen. And there stood Jeon Jungkook, holding your daughter, making her laugh and caressing her soft features. Standing so near her only brought their shared features out a lot more— the two were practically twins.
“She’s beautiful.” Jungkook speaks, making you jump in your spot at his soothing voice. Not once did he take his eyes off of the tiny girl, smiling lovingly at her. “Looks nothing like your husband.”
764 notes · View notes
junghelioseok · 3 months ago
↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.
Tumblr media
◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]
❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜
notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!
⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.
warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(
Tumblr media
You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.
“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”
“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”
“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”
“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”
Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.
“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”
You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”
“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”
Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.
“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”
“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”
You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”
“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”
“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”
Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”
You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.
“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”
If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”
You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”
“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”
You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”
“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”
“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”
“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”
Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”
She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”
As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.
Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.
There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.
And then your mind goes to Jay.
You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.
A lot.
The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.
“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”
You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”
“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”
A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.
And arguably, a little too well.
“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.
“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”
That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.
“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”
Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”
You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”
The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”
“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”
“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”
You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”
The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”
One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.
“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”
“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”
You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.
Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.
It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.
He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.
“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”
Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.
“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”
You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”
Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.
“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”
“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”
“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”
The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.
“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”
Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”
You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.
And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.
“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”
You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”
He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”
Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.
“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”
Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”
You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.
“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.
The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.
“I’m guessing this is yours?”
He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”
“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”
Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.
“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”
Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”
And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.
“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.
“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”
Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”
You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”
Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.
It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”
“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.
“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”
Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”
For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”
His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.
“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I’m not going to last long at this rate.”
“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”
Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.
You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.
“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”
That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”
The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”
Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.
It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.
“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”
“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.
Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.
“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”
You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”
The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.
And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.
[11:22pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘
It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.
Tumblr media
Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.
[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?
His response is instantaneous.
[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours
[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅
You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.
Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.
It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”
“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”
“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”
“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”
“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”
You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”
Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”
You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”
“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”
“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”
“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”
“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”
“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”
“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”
Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”
There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..
“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”
Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”
“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”
Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”
You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”
“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”
You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”
The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.
You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.
Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.
At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.
Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.
“Need a hand?”
The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.
“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”
Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.
“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”
The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.
“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.
“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”
“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”
Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.
“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”
You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”
“Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.
“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.
The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.
There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.
[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight
Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.
[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.
You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?
[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged
[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!
Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.
“Is she alone?”
The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.
“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”
“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”
Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.
“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”
You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”
Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”
“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.
“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”
“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”
She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.
“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”
The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.
“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.
Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.
Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”
Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”
Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”
“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”
Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.
“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”
“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”
“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”
A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.
From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.
“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”
“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,” you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”
“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”
Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.
“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”
“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”
Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”
“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”
His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”
You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.
“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”
“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.
The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.
“Here’s to second meetings.”
“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.
You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.
Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.
“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”
You blink. “The verdict?”
Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”
“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”
Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”
“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”
“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”
“What if I am?” you challenge.
“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.
The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn’t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”
Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”
“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”
“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.
“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”
Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.
“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.
“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”
His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.
“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”
You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”
“Hey, you made it!”
You beam. “Hi.”
You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.
“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”
Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”
You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”
He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”
You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”
“Just promise me one thing?”
The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”
He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”
979 notes · View notes
1kook · 26 days ago
skirt chasers — drabble v
Tumblr media
this is a skirt chasers drabble — find the others here <3
➝ SUMMARY “pretty,” you gasp, cupping one side of his face with your hand, “you’re so pretty, Jungkook.”
➝ WARNINGS smut and it’s like super basic just missionary fuckin, mentions of kook being a panty sniffer, jk gets a lil shy, oc teases him
➝ RATING m (18+)
➝ WC 2k
“Hi,” he says, hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his coat. The tip of his nose is flushed a bright red, feels like an ice cube when he tries to burrow closely, pressing it against the side of your neck.
Your own hands are too scared of the cold to embrace him, and you settle for snuggling closer until the two of you look like huddling penguins taking shelter outside the political science building. “Hi, baby,” you greet, having at least the decency to place a chaste kiss on his cheek.
Jungkook is many things— organized, hard working, silly, smart, brash, has the biggest heart in the entire world even if he won’t admit to it. But resilient against the cold, he is not. “Lets go, please,” he shivers, and then, in a poor attempt to save face, tacks on, “you must be cold.”
Which you are. It’s the beginning of spring again, and your nylons can only do so much against the chilly breeze that wraps around your legs. The weather app on your phone had said it would be a little on the warmer side today, and you — a fool — had blindly believed it. A particularly strong gust of wind blows past, threatening to lift the back of your skirt. Your knight in shining armor bravely forgoes the warmth of his own pockets, promptly reaching a hand out to catch the fluttering fabric without missing a step, smoothing it down the back of your thighs. His teeth chatter. “You owe me.”
You scoff, gently running a hand along his chest, flattening out any imaginary bumps along the front of his coat. “As if,” you sass, “you still owe me from when I did your laundry last weekend.”
The parking lot behind the student center is Jungkook’s go-to lot. See, he had gotten a car last summer, this super old, dingy metal trap that he and Taehyung had gone fifty-fifty on. As a means of transportation, it’s more than adequate, even if the brakes need to be touched up way too often. As a space to fuck after class, it’s downright terrible, and you and Jungkook have long since learned that the hard way.
Jungkook unlocks her— yes, her —and unceremoniously plops into the driver’s seat. “It was for the greater good, baby,” he sighs, waiting patiently for you to close the door before cranking the heat. It comes out cold at first, an overpowering blast of frigid air that you swear has icicles forming along your lashes. But you’ve been banned from complaining about her, lest you want to walk the thirty minutes to your apartment instead, and quietly keep that thought to yourself. “Besides,” Jungkook says, apparently still stuck on your earlier jab. “I’ve washed your laundry before.”
You roll your eyes, knees shivering in front of you. Jungkook instinctively reaches a hand over, places his stupidly big palm on your thigh. “Please,” you mumble, “you just wanted to smell my panties, probably.”
You’re met with a scandalized cough as he pulls out of the lot, his cheeks dusted a rosy pink as he adamantly begins to defend himself. “I did not,” he spits, and you’re not sure whether you should be offended by your boyfriend’s violent disgust at the idea of smelling your panties, or glad that he’s not a complete pervert. In the end, both options seem to have been wrong. “I already smell your pussy enough when I’m down there doing business anyway.”
The groan that tears itself from your throat is one of pure and absolute embarrassment. You sink down against the seat, covering your face with your hands as if the whole world somehow heard Jungkook’s comment. “Doing business?” you repeat, perhaps most startled that he had referred to eating you out as ‘business.’
He shrugs, eyes on the road. “Y’know,” he says, squeezing your thigh. “Just this and that. Eating out. Fucking. Depends on the vibe.” You have half the mind to slap his hand away. But it’s comforting and warm, and definitely takes a little off the cold. At the next stoplight, he flicks his gaze over at you, a rather devious smirk taking over his features. “I’ll show you when we get home.”
And show you he does.
Your top comes off first, hastily thrown towards the foot of your bed, and Jungkook’s follows. He’s normally a pretty big guy, and his interest in loose, baggy clothing often gives the illusion of him being huge underneath. But when he’s shirtless, when he’s down to nothing but his tiny pair of boxers, he really is absolutely massive. Bulging biceps, thunderous thighs— you want him to suffocate you sometimes, crush you beneath the weight of his broad figure. “Koo,” you call out, arms outstretched for him to crawl into.
You’ve long since accepted the fact Jungkook liked skirts just as much as you liked skirts . His hands glide up the outside of your thighs, slip beneath the fabric of your skirt and spread your legs. He fits perfectly in between, spares no time locking lips. The tip of his nose is still a little cold when it nudges against yours, makes you chuckle at the touch. “What’s so funny?” Jungkook frowns, pulling away with half-lidded eyes.
“Nothing,” you say, curling your arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. “You’re just so cute.”
And that certainly gets a rise out of him. “I’m—“ he stammers, clearly at a loss for words. It’s one of your favorite scenes as of late, watching him practically break his brain in two when you shower him with such compliments. Like he’s torn between annoyance at being referred to as cute and embarrassment from your words in general. Either way, it’s lovely, makes you wanna shower him with kisses. “Shut up,” he settles on, grumpily accepting the kiss you place against the corner of his mouth.
“Mhm,” you purr, hooking a leg around him. It pulls Jungkook closer, leaves the front of his boxers pressed against yours. His cock stirs beneath the fabric, teases you with its size as it brushes against the inside juncture where your thigh meets your pelvis. “Lube?”
Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Maybe if you let me eat you out first, we wouldn’t have to use it,” he huffs, hastily reaching for the bottle you keep in your bedside drawer.
You pinch his side. “You take too long,” you point out, shuffling around while you wait, readjusting your skirt so it isn’t uncomfortably stuck between you and the mattress. “And you’re mean about it!”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” he sighs, returning with the mysterious grey bottle you had purchased at the convenience store specifically for its vague packaging. Jungkook squirts a shit ton onto his palm before haphazardly throwing it somewhere behind him. “I’m sooo mean and evil for wanting you to cum first,” he drones, “like a big evil dragon and you’re the pretty little princess being held hostage.”
“You think I’m a princess?” you grin, carding your fingers along the hair above his ear, tucking it back as Jungkook gets himself all lubed up. It’s a sight to behold, really; his arms bulge with each tug of his cock, jaw clenched as he focuses on the tight grip of his own hand. Paired with the way he absolutely looms over you, dark hair nearly covering his eyes, it makes you weak in the knees. “You’d be a sexy dragon,” you murmur mindlessly.
Jungkook snorts. “Thanks,” he says dryly, “I’m glad you think so.”
With his cock glistening and angry, he wastes no time freeing you from your underwear, discarding it with the same care he had the bottle of lube earlier. Your folds sparkle with the beginnings of arousal, and Jungkook makes sure his lubed up hand adds to it, languidly rubbing at your clit as he lines himself up. “Wow,” he says, but not really to you.
He leans his weight over you, arms propped up on either side of your head. With him so close, it’s dizzying, maddening. Jungkook’s scent washes over you in waves, makes your next inhale come out shaky. “Just... whenever you’re ready,” you breathe, not bothering to hide the shiver that runs along your spine when his engorged head kisses your entrance.
It’s still tight, thanks to your impatience, but the lube helps a little. You wince, fingernails digging into his shoulders. Jungkook doesn’t mind, too busy biting down against his own lip as he sinks inside. It’s slippery, fast. He’s down to the hilt before you know it, harsh breaths fanning across your face. “All good?” he asks, gently knocking his nose against yours in hopes of meeting your eye.
“All good,” you pant, hastily reaching down to readjust your skirt. The way it’s bunched up around your waist, it kind of blocked the view, deprived you of the sight of Jungkook’s cock pushing inside.
He presses a kiss to your temple. It makes your heart beat so fast, it’s scary, makes you tremble when he draws back out again. “Relax,” he murmurs, rolling his hips against yours slowly, before picking up the speed.
Jungkook is always extra careful during the cold months. Like he knows the freezing temperature makes your joints weak and one overpowered thrust will break you in half. He’ll never admit it of course. As much as he loves seeing you on top, riding him like a cowgirl, he’s too worried about your knees, your hips. “Gotta stay healthy for me,” he says, calling every night to make sure you take your vitamins, rubbing your ankles after long days out.
(He wants you around for a long time.)
Today is no different. He hikes your leg up, hand curling around the bend of your knee until he’s guided it safely up. But he’s got this sharp edge to his eyes, like it’s taking everything in him to not push all that aside and ram into you like a dog in heat. You love him all the more. “Hold me,” you choke out, pulling him close.
Jungkook complies, pressing in until your chest touches his, his hips shallowly bucking into your heat. Each time he slides back out, the movement makes your walls clench, desperate to keep him in. Jungkook must like the grip, because he shivers and even moans. It’s so soft and airy, practically lost breath the wet squelch of your connected bodies. And it’s so— “pretty,” you gasp, cupping one side of his face with your hand, “you’re so pretty, Jungkook.”
Immediately, his cheeks are lit aflame. “Sh- shut up,” he barks, quickening his pace. He’s trying to cover up his reaction, choosing to blind you with the power of his hips slamming against yours. All consideration for your well-being is flushed away, replaced with the red tips of Jungkook’s ears and his need to distract you from his cuteness. “Just— just shut up.”
Despite the way he jostles your entire body with the bucking of his hips, you can’t hide the giggle that bubbles to the surface. “S’cute,” you pant, pulling him close. “You’re cute, Koo.”
“__,” he hisses, your skirt caught in his fists as he uses it as leverage to yank you closer, onto his cock over and over. Each plunge brings a pitiful whimper out of you, thighs trembling from the force of his quick yet deep thrusts.
The conversation draws to a close, the room subjected to both your lustful cries instead. Jungkook groans and you whimper, wail, sob at the intensity. His cock prods along your walls, caresses and kisses every inch of the way. It’s so tight and wet, feels so good you’re afraid it’ll never be this good again.
He cums with a strained cry, hiding his face against your shoulder, coats your walls with his pleasure, and you follow afterwards. “Fuck,” he groans, and then, just because he can, sinks his teeth into you. “Evil princess,” he grumbles, forcing you into a sweaty cuddle.
899 notes · View notes
venusiangguk · 3 months ago
I would cry if you made a mini drabble or comment on how dilf Jk and OC are doing. Are they still together?
the art of wanting drabble: gardening and pool day with dilf jk and baby nari
>>pairing: jungkook x reader / dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc
>>genre: strangers to lovers / fwb / fluff
>>rating: PG
>>word count: 1.2k, drabble
>>warnings: not much, mentions of alcohol, implied smut, cutest baby ever
>>notes: just a lil update on the favorite not-so-couple couple and the apple of their eye, little nari <3
>>summary: nari plays in the dirt while jk gardens and you make a bet.
The blender was very fancy and had a lot of buttons, but alas, you made due and are now stepping out into the backyard, hands full of watermelon juice. Two with just a pinch of the rum you found in the built in wine cooler by the dishwasher, one with a spill proof lid.
It's your day off from the god forsaken grocery store, and the sun is beating hot outside, but the light breeze makes it bearable. The pool a little ways away gets more and more tempting as the heat sends waves to your bare arms and back. The bikini top you’re wearing basically useless as protection from the sun.
Good thing you’ve got a certain someone to sunscreen your back for you.
Jeongguk is shirtless, his sleeve on full display. His long hair is being held back by a baseball cap, and he’s got his gardening gloves on. You watch as he uses the back of his tattooed arm to wipe at some of the sweat dripping down the side of his face. He looks sunkissed and just edible.
You reign your thoughts in however when your eyes move next to him.
Little Nari is sat on a small blanket with a portable umbrella keeping her in a small patch of cool shade, her little toes dangling off the edge and digging into the small pile of soil that Jeongguk provided her to play in. He even put a few weeds and some of the flowers that were on their last few days of life into the mix. Nari digs one out with her pudgy little hands and squeals as she raises her hand for her dad to see.
Jeongguk, the ever doting father, takes in his baby and laughs when he sees that her overly large sun cap has fallen into her eyes. He adjusts it on her head, and you hear him give a playful gasp as you get closer.
“Oh so pretty, little flower,” he coos, “Is that for me?”
Nari snatches her hand away from him. “Nuuuuw, Da,” she shakes her head with so much force her whole little body jiggles, her round tummy on display in a tiny bikini of her own.
You smile to yourself and you take a seat with Nari on her blanket, stealing a bit of her shade. You hand Jeongguk his drink with a soft grin, and he smiles back at you, soft and sweet as he takes the glass.
“Oooh look what ___ brought for us,” he says, to Nari, “What do you say?”
Nari whips her head around to you like she didn’t notice you sit right next to her. She giggles, baby gurgles sounding in the backyard air. She claps her hands as she smiles at you her round doe-eyes squeezing shut in glee. That’s when she seems to remember the small blossom in her hand.
Her eyes go wide and her mouth parts in a small ‘o’ before she extends the flower to you.
You bend down to her level, and she tucks the flower into your hair as best she can with her baby motor skills and then wacks at her dad’s knee.
Jeongguk glances over at you as you grab a nearby watering can and use it to clean Nari’s hands before handing her her juice. She suckles on the sippy straw until she absolutely has to stop, gasping and taking deep breaths before getting right back to her sweet treat.
Her dad glances between her and you trying to figure out why his daughter tried to get his attention. His face falls and he gives a playfully annoyed expression.
“You know,” he starts, “Maybe Daddy wants a flower every once in a while.”
Nari is unbothered as she fists her sippy cup in one hand and the other goes right back into the dirt.
You giggle as you sip your drink and then lean back some, resting on your free hand. “You have the prettiest flower all to yourself already,” you say, nodding in Nari’s direction.
Jeongguk’s face softens, and he goes from looking at you to his little baby. He laughs quietly as he pinches her tummy. She giggles and some watermelon juice dribbles down her chin, unable to swallow before getting attacked by her daddy’s tickles.
Her hiccuping babbles and baby giggles are contagious, and you can’t help but join along. Nari puts up with her dad’s pestering for a good amount of time before she screeches and holds up a tiny dirt covered hand, as if saying ‘stop’.
“Nuw, Da,” she babbles. She’s getting closer and closer to talking as the days pass, even in the short months that you’ve been coming around, she’s already made progress.
Jeongguk’s eyes shine with laughter as he nods, a closed lipped smile holding in his own giggles. “Oh, okay, sorry,” he tells her, flicking his eyes to you before back to Nari, “Carry on, the weeds aren’t gonna pull themselves Miss Nari,” he gestures to her pile of dirt. Nari nods, a diligent little weed puller indeed.
“Hey,” you whisper after a few moments, the both of them back to work, “Gguk.”
He turns to you, a question on his face. You don’t respond right away, just smile at him and he gives in, leaning back and angling himself towards you. Nari sat between your bodies, in front of you.
He’s resting on his elbow, his upper half in the shade with you. He smiles up at you lazily. “What’s up?”
You glance at Nari making sure she’s distracted, and then you flip his cap so it’s backwards, before placing a small hand onto his hot, red face. You angle him towards you and it warms your heart at just how easily he goes with you and lets his eyes fall shut, already knowing what’s about to happen.
You kiss him softly, before deepening the kiss just a bit before pulling away. He tastes sweet like watermelon, slightly salty from the sweat on his upper lip.
He hums, eyes still closed a soft smile still on his mouth. “What was that for?”
You pat his cheek and flip his hat back around. “Just because,” you say quietly. Then you wrinkle your nose. “You’re so sweaty.”
He nods, unashamed. “Working hard.”
You glance at the tempting pool. “Why don’t we ever go in there?”
He hums. “Nari doesn’t like the water, and I don’t do anything without her.”
A little idea forms in your head. “I bet if I go in, she’ll go in.”
Jeongguk raises an eyebrow. “Wanna bet?”
You nod. “I win, we… you know,” you raise your eyebrows at him. He blushes a little, but a ghost of a smile dances on his lips. “You win, we still… you know.”
He gives you a knowing look, plucks his gardening gloves off before he uses the arm he’s not leaning on to reach over and adjust the flower Nari put in your hair, tucking it behind your ear. “Are you sure you can be quiet enough while we… you know?”
With an excited grin you nod and run to the outside pool shed to grab Nari’s floaties. That baby will be a little mermaid by the time the sun goes down.
aha!! a little drabble to update you guys on dilf jk, since he do be living in our heads rent free. so to answer the q: they are together but not together together. i have a longer one shot in my brain that includes more plot and actual smut, but idk when i'll get around to writing it so hopefully this will hold u guys over till then !! sry for the blue balls, but just so u know jk had to cover oc's mouth and he might've scolded her while they were... you know... "I thought I told you to be quiet?" :o ok byee
also i hope u like it :) if u did, pls do all the things: like, reblog, comment, share, send an ask~~ as always i love hearing ur thoughts and talking to u :*
927 notes · View notes