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borathae · a day ago
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↳ Index [Chapter 10 - It’s The Little Steps That Count]
Genre: Fluff, Smut, soft Angst
Warnings: switchy!Jungkook, domish!Reader, choking, multiple positions & orgasms aye, so much domestic fluffiness, some fears of commitment too because that doesn’t just stop all of a sudden, there is also one very emotional scene about Kook’s path to soberity and it made me cry when I wrote it
Wordcount: 9.6k
a/n: *screeches into the void*
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 Jungkook shakes you awake a few hours later. He didn’t want to shake you awake, just as he didn’t want to wake up in the first place. But he does. He has to. His stomach woke him up.
“What?” you murmur tiredly, watching him run to the bathroom.
He doesn’t close the door. He couldn’t. He barely reached the toilet in the first place. The door would have been too much work.
You sigh, listening to him empty his stomach loudly.
You knew that he drank. He literally reeked of it last night when you met him. His breath, his skin, his clothes, even his lips. It was so strong that it even overpowered the scent of his cologne. Maybe you should have called him out on it, but you were honestly just happy to see him again. You didn’t want to ruin it with fighting.
You listen as he throws up again, sobbing painfully as he does.
Fuck, you feel so bad for him. He never should have drank that much again. It was your fault, you made him drink that much. He must have felt so broken because you threw him out of your place. You were so goddamn unfair to him back then. You roll out of bed and hurry to the bathroom. You need to be there for him, apologize to him through actions and show him that he has your support.
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Jungkook was kneeling in front of the toilet, panting heavily and grasping the toilet seat as if his life depended on it. He hasn’t heard you come in, currently gagging more and more in preparation for having to throw up again.
You sit down next to him in silence, placing your hand on his back to rub soothing circles on it. Fuck, he’s sweat straight through his shirt.
He gags and then his stomach empties itself again.
“It’s okay, let it all out”, you soothe him, “it’s painful, but you’ll feel better afterwards.”
He sobs, convulsing painfully.
“Sssh it’s okay, it’s going to be over soon”, you whisper, patting his back.
He convulses one last time and then finally, finally, his stomach stops aching. He falls down with a grunt, head hitting the wall and eyes barely open.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like shit.”
“Mhm I know, that sucks”, you say and flush for him.
You get him a glass of water and something to wipe his mouth with afterwards, allowing his head to fall against your shoulder once he cleaned his mouth.
“I’m so sorry you had to see this”, he croaks.
“Don’t apologize, I really don’t mind”, you assure him, petting his damp hair.
He whimpers, pulling his legs up and resting them on your lap.
“___ I drank again last night and now a-all I’m craving again is another sip”, he whimpers, seeking comfort by pressing himself closer, “I’m so scared, I don’t wanna drink again.”
“I know Kook.”
“Why am I doing this to myself?”
“I don’t know.”
“It hurts so much.”
“I know”, you reach over your chest to caress his ear.
He shivers, “don’t stop please”, he begs in a barely there whisper.
You don’t stop, massaging his ear softly. Your brother sometimes did that to you when you wouldn’t calm down. It always relaxed you. You’re happy that it helps Jungkook relax too.
 “___ I think I broke someone last night.”
“Really? How so?”
“There was this woman, who works for me, and were fucking for the past five months. But last night I told her that it was over and”, he whimpers, “and she looked so broken. She cried a-and begged me not to do this to her. ___ I did the same thing she did to me.”
“Don’t be so harsh on yourself please. You and that girl were only fucking, she gave you hopes of a relationship. Don’t mix that up.”
“Yeah, but she was crying so much and she reminded me so much of myself. Fuck ___”, he looks at you with glassy eyes, “I feel so fucking guilty.”
You sigh and cup his cheek.
“You did the right thing Bunny. If you felt that ending the sexual relationship you and her had was the right thing for you to do then it was the right thing to do. You shouldn’t have to stay in relationships just because you don’t want to hurt the other person, it’s best to let them go before you end up getting more hurt than necessary.”
“You really think so?”
“Yes, I really do. You did the right thing, alright?”
He nods his head, leaning into your touch like an addict looking for his high.
“Thank you so much. You always know what to say”, he whispers, draping his arm across your stomach to hug you.
You continue caressing his ear, listening to his steady breathing.
“Is that why you drank so much?”
“Partially, mostly it was because I missed you so much.”
Your heart stings in your chest.
“This hurts me, don’t drink because of me.”
“I’m sorry”, he chokes out, “oh god, wait.”
He ends up throwing up again, feeling a little less shitty doing so now that you are here to rub his back and let him rest his head on your shoulder afterwards. He was still feeling shitty however. You found out that he was drinking. He didn’t want to drink in front of you anymore, he didn’t want to be drunk or hungover and yet still ended up failing. He feels like such a disappointment. 
“Fuck I’m so fucking sorry.”
“It’s fine, really”, you assure him, “I’ve been there before.”
“Have you?”
“Yeah and I had nobody, so please stop apologizing. I’m here to help you.”
“Thank you.”
“But you have to promise me that you want to get better, I’m not here to watch you poison yourself over and over again.”
“I promise, it’s going to be easier now. I have you, I can do it with you by my side.”
You give him a smile, pressing a soft kiss to his sweaty forehead before resting your cheek against his head.
“I’m so happy that we’re finally dating. I've wanted this for so long.”
Your smile falls.
Fuck.
Now you have a person depending on you.
You have a person to take care of. You swallow heavily. This is everything you never wanted. You have a person, another human being, who is going to be by your side from now on. They could leave you. Jungkook could actually leave you. You just gave him the opportunity to hurt you.
What have you done?
“Right?” Jungkook sits up and crawls on top of your lap, “we are dating, aren’t we?”
You stare at him, picturing every bad scenario which would come out of you saying no. Jungkook ends up very hurt in most of them. Then you look at his lips and picture every bad scenario which would come out of you saying yes. You end up hurt in most of them. You look into his eyes and feel close to choking.
Jungkook scoots up your lap and touches the sides of your neck softly.
“We are dating, right?” he asks quietly, eyes becoming glassy in worry.
You end up hurt in most of them. Jungkook hurts you in most of them. He breaks your heart over and over again. Jungkook is going to break your heart if you say yes, so break his’ first.
The voice in your head is basically screaming it at you.
“Yes”, you answer him barely audible and flinch mentally when the voice begins yelling at you how stupid you are. Shut up voice, I want to be happy once. You tell it, clutching his thighs tightly for support.
“Oh god”, he says and sighs in relief, “I was so scared that you would say no”, he confesses and leans closer, “can I kiss you?”
“Brush your teeth first.”
“Oh yeah”, he covers his mouth, “sorry, that’s so disgusting.”
“It’s fine”, you assure him, giving his butt a gentle pat, “stinky boy.”
“Don’t”, he whines and blushes, “you are so mean, this is so embarrassing.”
He stumbles off your lap and gets to his feet with the help of your shoulders. Then he waddles to the sink and opens his cabinet to take out his toothbrush and toothpaste. You watch him, fumbling with the empty glass of water in your hands.
You said yes. Despite all the warnings of your brain you said yes. What is happening to you? That's not you. You don’t commit to someone. You don’t. 
Jungkook turns and opens another cabinet. He seems to feel better now. It was probably one of those moments where his body needed to get rid of the excess poison in his stomach, but once it’s done it feels good again. You sometimes had those moments too when you took too much.
“I have a fresh toothbrush in there, you can use it if you want to”, he tells you and points at it.
“Thank you, that’s so nice", you say and force yourself to stand up.
So you and him brush your teeth next to each other, sneaking nervous glances at the other every so often. It feels so weird to you. You are being all domestic with him.
“What do you want to do today?” he asks you.
“Huh?” you widen your eyes maybe a little too much right now. He wants to do stuff with you??
“Should we go out and do something? Or do you want to stay in and cuddle?”
“Uuuuuh….”
"I think I wanna stay in, I’m so sleepy. Is that okay with you?" 
"Uuuh", you say before nodding your head. He wants to do stuff with you. That feels so weird to experience.
"Nice, then let's stay in." 
Jungkook spits out the toothpaste and rinses his mouth with water. He gurgles it and spits it into the sink, washing his face with cold water afterwards.
“Oh that felt nice”, he sighs and pats it dry with a towel, “my cheeks felt so tight from all the crying”, he says while putting moisturiser on his skin.
His eyes flit to you.
“What’s with that look?”
“I uhm”, you look away, “nothing.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know”, you say and mean it honestly. You just feel weird and you can’t really say why. This is the type of intimacy you are not used to. You don’t know how to react.
Jungkook gnaws on his lower lip, watching you spit out your toothpaste and then rinse your mouth. You splash your face with ice cold water, hoping that it can lessen the feeling of burning up. Then you straighten up, gasping when Jungkook stands next to you with a fresh towel between his fingers.
“Thank you”, you whisper, accepting it and patting your face dry with lowered eyes.
“Do you want moisturiser too?”
“I don’t k-know, does it help?”
He nods his head and offers you the opened tube. You have never used such products before. Why should you, when eighty percent of your day you are wearing a mask either way?
“How much do I need?” you ask him shyly.
“Can I show you?”
“Yes?” you allow him and ask him at the same time what he means by that.
He steps closer and tilts your head up with one finger under your chin. 
"Oh…"
His eyes race over your features before a soft smile tugs the corners of his lips up. Then he places his pointer and middle fingers on your cheek, eliciting a soft gasp from you because of the cold cream on his fingertips.
“You have to put it everywhere first to make it all even”, he tells you in a soft spoken voice, putting tiny dots of the white cream all over your face, “perfect all done”, he grins.
“Okay”, you whisper, gawking at his brows eyes and wondering what the hell you were doing here.
“Then you have to spread it. Like that”, he says and begins rubbing it into your skin in slow circles. He touches you softly, tentatively even, eyes following the lines his fingers draw.
You can’t remember the last time you took a breath. You don’t think that you have ever felt so….vulnerable before. You are allowing someone else to put moisturiser on your face in the softest of touches. This feels as if you are walking down a busy road naked. So you clutch the fabric of your shirt right where your heart pounds in your chest, hoping that you can shield yourself a little.
He runs his pointer fingers down your temples and then dances them over your cheekbones, “there we go, now it’s all absorbed”, he whispers.
“Thank you”, the words are silent as you speak so you clear your throat and try a second time, “thank y-you.”
He smiles, eyes flitting to your lips. You can feel it and see it. You close your eyes and go for it. You goddamn go for it and press a kiss to his lips.
“Mhm”, he lets out, fingers losing themselves in your hair and shoulders rising to his ears.
You break away way too soon for his taste, keeping your eyes half-lidded and focused on his parted lips.
“Did you like that?” you ask him, because quite frankly you didn’t know if that was the right thing to do.
“So much”, he whispers, half-lidded eyes focused on the curve of your nose.
“Hah”, you let out and step back, “I have an idea."
"An i-idea?" 
“Let’s get all of your booze bottles and put them on the kitchen counter.”
“What? Why?”
“Let’s just do it.”
“Uhm”, Jungkook furrows his brows in confusion.
“Do you trust me Bunny?”
He nods his head, "of course, but why?"
“Good then let’s do it”, you say and grab his hand, “let’s go, let’s collect all of the bottles.”
He follows you, showing you all the places with confusion in his eyes. But you have a plan. He will see soon enough what you want to do.
Jungkook sets down the last bottle of whiskey (he found it in the guest bathroom hidden under towels) and then steps back to look at you.
"Is that everything now?" you ask him. 
He nods his head, staring at countless bottles. Holy fuck, that’s so many. What is wrong with me? He thinks and feels his heart ache in guilt and embarrassment. He lowers his head and bites down on the tip of his tongue. He wants to cry just from seeing how fucked he actually became.
"Good”, you say.
Silence as you work. You take the first bottle of many and open it. Jungkook lifts his head at the sound, eyes flitting to the bottle. 
"What are you doing?"
You extend your arm and hand it to him. He furrows his brows. 
"Take it." 
"What?" he gasps.
"Take it." 
"Why?" 
"Trust me." 
"Please tell me first." 
"Okay, so I know it's just a little step and also very spontaneous. But maybe we could empty all your bottles into the sink, so that at least in your home you are free of temptation?" 
"Oh", he lets out and lowers his eyes. 
"Wanna do it? It's okay if you don’t, I know that I'm kinda pushy right now." 
"No, uhm…"
Jungkook looks at the bottle of booze and takes a deep breath. He extends his arm and wraps his shaking fingers around the bottle neck. He stares at it, trembling in fear. 
"Now pour it down the sink." 
Jungkook stares at you with fear in his eyes.
"Trust me", you say and smile. 
Jungkook seems hesitant, fumbling with the opened bottleneck. So you step closer and wrap your fingers around his'. 
"Do you want my help?" 
He looks to the floor and nods his head. 
"Okay, let's do it together then. Come on. One, two and...three." 
You tilt the bottle. The brown liquid trickles into the sink loudly, disappearing down the drain in an instance. Jungkook is panting, eyeing it with panic. 
"You're doing very well Bunny", you praise him because you know that all he can think about right now is all the wasted alcohol. 
The last drop. Jungkook tilts the bottle up quickly and breaks away. He wheezes, throwing his hand over his mouth. 
"How do you feel?" you ask him.
He shakes his head, back colliding with the kitchen island. 
"It's really weird to watch isn’t it?" 
He nods his head vigorously, twisting his shirt right above where his heart hammers in his chest.
You put the now empty whiskey bottle in the cardboard box with all the other empty bottles, you had found on the way, and then draw closer to Jungkook. You touch his tummy softly, caressing it.
"And what do you think? Do you like the idea?" 
"Don't know, I-I don’t know", he stutters and shakes his head. 
"Okay, then shall we try another one? And then you can tell me if you want to continue or not?" 
He looks at his collection, shimmying from one foot to the other. His fingers leave red marks on his forehead from how harshly he massages it. 
"Okay, it's hard to answer. I get that. Then show me what is your least favourite out of them all?" 
Jungkook points at the unopened bottle of Bacardi. So you take it. 
"You are not going to miss it, right?" 
He shakes his head. 
"Good, that's good. So let's open it and pour it down the sink. Shall we?" 
"You do it, please", he chokes out, pressing himself against the kitchen island. 
"Okay, I’ll do it."
You step to the sink, open the bottle and turn to Jungkook. He stares at the bottle, hand thrown over his mouth. 
"You are doing amazing Jungkook", you assure him and tilt the bottle. 
He gasps when the liquid hits the sink, shuddering with every spilled drop. It is empty within seconds, the bottle finds its home in the cardboard box. 
"Look, there are three more bottles of Bacardi. Should I empty them for you?" 
Jungkook whimpers, "yes please." 
"Great, we'll do it together. You watch me and I pour."
Jungkook nods his head, eyes glued to your hands. You empty the first two quickly and discard them in the box. Then you turn. Jungkook is holding the last bottle, he had opened it. His eyes are glued to the opening even when he hands it to you. 
"Good job, that was really good", you praise him and turn to the sink to empty the last bottle.
Jungkook whimpers when the last drop falls, throwing his hand over his mouth again. It's gone. The Bacardi is gone. 
You discard the bottle in the box and then claim your spot in front of Jungkook. You touch his sides to remind him that he wasn’t alone right now.
"You have done so well until now. I'm really proud of you." 
Jungkook reaches for you, twisting your shirt in the front. His face is contorted in painful relief. You know that a part of him is mourning the loss of his favourite coping mechanism while another is dancing in joy. The trick is to go slow until dancing becomes easier than mourning. 
"Let's do another one. What's your second least favourite?" 
Jungkook lowers his head and shakes it. 
"It's okay, should I just pick one?" 
He hesitates, rubbing his hand over his face in distress. You think that maybe he will tell you that he had enough but then all of a sudden he nods his head.  
"Okay. Then I'll pick….this one." 
You show him the bottle of Tequila. Jungkook had opened it just last week, but only drank a quarter of it. 
"I never liked that shit", you say and smile. 
Jungkook doesn’t retort it and that's okay. You know how much stress he was experiencing right now. 
"Now come on Kookie, I need your help with that one. Let's do it together." 
Jungkook whimpers, hands balled into fists. So you take one of them and make his fingers wrap around the bottleneck instead. Jungkook whimpers. 
"There we go. Now. One, two, three." 
The liquid pours down quickly. Jungkook squirms beside you, letting out tiny squeaks of distress. 
"All done. Let's do one more together."
You pick out a bottle of soju. You rub Jungkook's lower back in the process because he started to shake uncontrollably. 
The bottle empties quickly. You grab another one and hand it to Jungkook. 
"Can you do this one alone?" 
He shakes his head, eyes becoming glassy. You step closer and open the bottle for him. 
"Now just tilt it Bunny", you whisper, caressing his back. 
He grunts and shakes as he tries to tilt the bottle. He really tries. He swallows down a sob and tilts the bottle more. 
Drop. Drop. Drop.
The soju trips onto the metal loudly. Jungkook wheezes for air and sobs. 
"Yellow", he presses out, dropping the bottle and stumbling away, "yellow, yellow, yellow", he sobs, burying his face in his hands. 
"Okay, that’s okay. Jungkook, you have done so, so well." 
Jungkook turns and runs. He runs and you follow him until he falls down on his sofa.
"I can't do this", he chokes out and sobs loudly, "I can't do this, I can’t, I can’t." 
"Hey Bunny", you kneel down in front of him and cup his cheeks to tilt his head up, "you don’t have to do this anymore. We can stop for today. I am not forcing you to do this." 
Jungkook sobs. His face carries so much fucking pain but somehow also disappointment.
"Tell me your thoughts Jungkook, what’s bothering you?"
"I can't do this, I c-can't do this. Not alone. I can't do this alone."
"Okay, then let's do it together." 
He shakes his head and leans forward until his face is buried in your shoulder and you have to support half of his weight. 
"Why? Tell me what makes it so hard."
"So much alcohol", he manages to get out and then he has to sob painfully. 
"Ah I get it. You are seeing all of this alcohol run down the drain and you feel like you are wasting it." 
"No, no." 
"Then tell me Kookie."
"I can't do this without it. I'm so scared. I can’t live without it." 
"You feel like it now because you are currently under immense stress, but trust me Kook you can. I saw you be happy without booze. I saw you function without it. You can live without it." 
Jungkook whimpers and lifts his head. 
"Trust me Jungkook. It feels like you can’t, but that's just an asshole trick of the booze as it's trying to lure you back", you cup his cheeks, "you can live without it. Trust me." 
He shakes his head and sobs softly. 
"Come on, let's get up and walk." 
Jungkook lets you pull him to his feet. You support him by his waist, leading him to the stairs. He takes them slowly, needing the hand railing. It’s alright for you because you have time. You just want to bring him away from the alcohol for now, give his brain a new environment to concentrate on. Once upstairs you lead him to the rooftop terrace, opening the door and going outside with him. It is a warm morning. The clouds hang between the skyscrapers, collimating the sunlight into straight beams. From underneath the fields of white clouds a constant rushing was making its way up to your ears. Like that of the ocean. You know that it was traffic however. 
He seems to breathe easier once outside. He doesn’t need to clutch you that tightly and he doesn’t stumble that much either.
You sit him down on his sunbed and sit down next to him, rubbing up and down his back.
"There we go. It can't reach us here." 
Jungkook sniffles and looks at you. 
"I'm sorry."
"There is nothing to apologize for."
"I used my safeword. I, I don’t know why I did that." 
"That wasn’t weird at all. I want you to use it when you feel it necessary. The situation doesn’t need to be sexual for you to need a break or to stop. Okay?" 
"Yes okay", he whispers.
You give him a soft smile, combing his disheveled hair out of his face.
"I'm very proud of you. You managed to throw away seven bottles. That's such an impressive start and one you can be really proud of." 
Jungkook looks at you but lowers his head after a moment. 
"Fuck", he presses out.
"It sounds like too much, doesn’t it?"
"Yes", he confesses shakily. 
"I know it does, but it was just right." 
Jungkook exhales shakily and punches his own palm twice. Then he squeezes his own fist, glassy eyes glued to the floor. 
"I wanna stop drinking. But now that we are emptying all my booze, I don’t want to stop. Why is this so fucking hard?" 
"Because everything inside of you tells you that taking away your supposed only escape is a big mistake." 
You tug his hair behind his ear.
"It has something to do with evolution and how we are still animals in the sense of needing to be aware of an escape route at all times. If we aren't, our bodies go into stress and we start to feel really uneasy and anxious. That's why people choose the seats next to walls in restaurants instead of the ones facing the crowd. You can look over everything better and always have an eye on your escape routes." 
Jungkook looks at you. 
"Alcohol is your escape route Kookie and now you are forcing your body to watch how you are cutting it off. You are currently under immense stress because it feels like you are being forced into a corner." 
"Yes", his lower lip trembles, "that’s how it feels like. I'm so scared." 
"I know you are and that is totally valid, but I am here for you and I am not gonna leave you."
"Really?" 
"Yes really", you take his hand, "we'll tackle this bitch together." 
"Fuck ___", he whispers and guides your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles softly. He presses it against his forehead and closes his eyes, "thank you so much." 
"Don't thank me, I’m doing this gladly." 
Jungkook drops your hand but continues holding it. His elbows are propped up on his thighs, his upper body is bend forward and his head lowered. You rub his back softly, giving him the moment of silence he so clearly needs. You know that his mind must be racing right now. That he is replaying what had happened downstairs over and over again and that he is asking himself all sorts of existential questions. You can remember how you felt when you had to take your last pill. How you stared at it for an hour, trembling and crying, because you didn’t want to use it up but you so desperately needed it. How you asked yourself why you even left Busan in the first place and why you didn’t stay with the people who could have made escaping so much easier. You remember that you threw up from stress once you took the pill and that you stared at the still undissolved pill in your bile and that for a moment you considered reaching in there and taking it out again. You ended up forcing yourself to flush before that could happen and then ended up crying so hard that you had to throw up a second time. 
You are glad that Jungkook, while still clearly in distress, feels a little better in forcing his addiction quite literally down the drain. And you are happy that you can be there for him to make it easier. 
"I feel like such a failure", he breaks the silence. His breathing has thankfully returned to normal. 
"Why?" 
"Because I got upset over spilled booze", he clenches his jaw, "I'm so pathetic." 
"Jungkook", you shake him, "didn’t I tell you to stop talking shit about yourself?" 
He turns his head, staying silent. 
"Stop insulting yourself, not when you can praise yourself instead. You managed to throw away seven bottles. Seven. That's so many." 
He looks away and inhales shakily. 
"Say it Jungkook", you stress and shake him softly. 
"Say what?" 
"Say that you are proud of yourself." 
He grinds his teeth, picking at the skin of his nailbeds. He doesn’t want to say that he is proud because he isn’t. You know that this is what's stopping him. 
"I didn't even pour them down, you did." 
"Doesn’t matter, say that you are proud of yourself." 
He huffs out air, reaching for his face to pick at the fluff on his cheek. 
"Go on Bunny", you encourage him. 
"I'm…" he falls silent and sneaks a glance your way, "that’s stupid." 
"Nuh-uh that’s not what you’re supposed to say. Tell me that you are proud of yourself." 
"I'm proud of myself", he whispers.
"Yes! Yes you are!" you exclaim and laugh proudly, wrapping your arm around him, "why are you proud of yourself Jungkook?" 
He punches his own thigh, swaying from side to side as you shake him softly. 
"I threw away booze." 
"Yes exactly, you did that. You managed to do that." 
Jungkook sniffles, sneaking another glance your way. 
"I'm proud of myself for throwing away booze", the words trembled as they rolled off his tongue. His eyes stayed focused on yours. 
"Yeah you are. Gosh, I’m so happy to hear that", you say, cupping his cheek.
Jungkook exhales through his mouth and leans into your touch. He closes his eyes for a moment before opening them and jumping to his feet. 
"Where are you going?" you ask him, following him back inside and down the stairs. 
Jungkook is going straight for the kitchen and takes the first booze bottle he sees. He opens it, discarding the cap in the trash bag. Then he stumbles to the sink and stops. He looks over his shoulder at you. You give him a reassuring smile. 
Jungkook turns back to the sink and lifts the bottle. One tilt and the liquid flows down the drain loudly. 
"Yes! That's so good", you exclaim and laugh.
Jungkook laughs too, he laughs and laughs and laughs until suddenly he sobs. He drops the empty bottle and buries his face in his hands. 
"Hey Kook, hey it's alright you've done very well", you gasp, hurrying to his side. 
Jungkook sobs miserably. You pull his hands away, expecting pain but instead you meet a smile. 
And you understand. That's not pain, that’s relief. This is the realisation that nothing will hurt him when he discards his booze. This is the enlightenment that all those fears were for nothing.
"It feels good doesn’t it?" 
"Y-yes", he stutters and laughs in a sob, "it feels so good." 
He laughs, sobs and laughs again. He rubs his face aggressively, fighting with his tears.
"Fuck, what’s happening to me?" 
"That's normal, just let it happen", you promise him.
He looks into your eyes, allowing the hot tears to stream down his face.
"Give, give me another one.”
And so you do. You hand him another bottle and watch as he opens it and empties it down the sink. And he sobs as he does it, and he laughs as he does it, and he wheezes for air afterwards, staring at you with relieved happiness. 
"One more?" you ask him, feeling your own eyes tear up in happiness.
He nods his head. 
You turn to the counter and take one bottle. There are five more left afterwards. All of them are whiskey. 
"Here you go", you hand him the last bottle of soju and watch as he opens it and empties it without regret. 
He throws the empty bottle in the box and stares at the whiskey bottles. He falls silent. 
"Fuck." 
You drape your arm across his waist. 
"This one is the hardest isn’t it?" 
"Yes." 
"Tell me why." 
"Because…" he exhales shakily, "...it's become part of me." 
"And you want it to be part of you?" 
"I don't know. ___ what if I can’t do this?" 
"Well, I think you can because you are a strong man and you can do anything."
"I'm not strong." 
"Jungkook you've fucking survived until now. You are strong." 
"Fuck", he chokes out, face contorting as he sobs. He seems changed, like you just told him the revelation to life itself when in reality all you did was make him aware of the fact that he kept on fighting even through the hardest days.
"See? You are stronger than you think." 
Jungkook sobs and lowers himself until his forehead is pressed against his arms on the counter. 
"Fuck", he presses out and grunts. He hits the counter and curses again. You let him. You know that this fight is the kind he needs to get through alone, you can stay by his side and rub his back, but his brain needs to do the last push. 
"I can do this", he whispers, straightening up enough to stare at the bottles, "fuck." 
He hits the counter and hits it again. 
"Do it", he says loudly, "do it Jungkook." 
He reaches for the first bottle and opens it. 
"No, it's not-" 
"Yes it's possible. Don't give up now."
He looks at you as if he just remembered that you were with him. He whimpers and pushes himself off the counter. 
"Help me." 
You wrap your hand around the bottle too. 
"Look at me Jungkook." 
Jungkook looks at you and furrows his brows when he can hear the first trickle of alcohol. He wants to see, wants to watch it go down the drain untouched and unused. But you don’t allow him.
"Keep looking at me", you encourage him, tilting the bottle up further.
Jungkook can feel how much lighter the bottle becomes with the seconds. Until all of a sudden. Silence. 
He lets out the breath he wasn’t even aware of holding and turns to the sink. It’s gone. You lower the bottle and take it out of his hand. 
You discard it in the box. 
"I did it", he whispers. 
"You did it. I'm so proud of you." 
He laughs, "holy shit I did it."
"I know", you say and laugh with him.  
He turns to you, "___ I did it." 
"I know, it's so great." 
He breaks the distance between him and you and picks you up to twirl you through the kitchen. 
"I did it", he exclaims and giggles.
"Gosh Bunny, I’m gonna get dizzy" you squeal, clutching his shoulders tightly. 
Jungkook stops, pressing your back against the fridge. 
"I love you", he whispers, glassy eyes filled with adoration. 
"Oh?" your heart skips a beat, "Jungkook I…"
Jungkook slides you down the fridge slowly until your feet touch the ground again. Then he steps closer and buries his face in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped around you safely.
"Thank you so much", he breathes, squeezing you softly. 
You squeeze your eyes shut. Your nose is buried in his shoulder, taking in nothing else than his scent. It is so overwhelming and yet you can’t get enough of it. So you wrap your arms around him and pull him closer. You feel a tear run down your cheek. So this is how it feels like to be loved. 
"Don't thank me, it was all on you." 
"No", he lifts his head, cupping your cheek, "no it wasn’t. You made me do it."
"I did?" you breathe. 
"Thank you so much." 
"Fuck Jungkook." 
He smiles and leans closer. He stops, eyes flitting to your lips. 
"Can I kiss you?" 
"Yes", you breathe, closing your eyes in anticipation. 
You gasp when the kiss happens, twisting his hair between your fingers. His lips taste of tears, salty. And somehow you are glad that they do, because on most days they tasted of whiskey instead. 
Jungkook steps closer and lifts you again. You squeak softly, grasping his shoulders and wrapping your legs around his waist. You have never been lifted before. It feels so weird to experience. 
Jungkook breaks the kiss to gaze at you with a smile. You try to retort it, but end up gawking in surprise when Jungkook does the unthinkable of breaking away from the fridge and carrying you through the kitchen.
"Jungkook what are you doing?" you squeak, clasping him tightly.
"You're so cute", he chuckles, walking to the chaise lounge in his living room. It was placed right next to the tall windows, giving view to the city below. The clouds have broken up by now, revealing the streets in messy shreds. 
He places you down on the chaise lounge and claims the spot between your legs. You gasp and look to the side. The street looks so far away. 
"What's wrong?" he asks, staring at your widened eyes.
"Please look at how small the cars are", you say and turn, almost pressing your nose against the glass as you stare outside, "the people look like ants oh my god." 
Jungkook grins and looks outside. He is so used to the view, but he thinks it is exciting today because you were so excited about it. 
You do the one thing Jungkook sometimes does when lies on his chaise lounge and is bored. You stick out your finger and pretend to be the one pushing the cars over the roads. Jungkook feels himself fall even more in love with you in that moment. He had wanted to kiss you until you wanted to connect with him even more, but changed his mind right in that moment. This right here was even better.
"Like toys", you say and chuckle softly. Jungkook smiles and tugs your hair behind your ear. You are so perfect to him. 
"Okay that's lowkey fun", you murmur. 
"Right?" he says and rests on top of you. His cheek is pressed against your chest, your left hand is rubbing up and down his back and his eyes are following your fingers. 
Jungkook lifts his pointer finger and pretends to push the car of the opposite traffic, making little motor sounds. You giggle. The cars are coming closer and closer. Jungkook giggles too. Closer and closer. Will you crash? 
"Oooh..aaand...bam", he says, making explosion gestures with his hand while mimicking an explosion with his mouth. 
You laugh, looking down at him. 
He sneaks a glance up at you and grins cutely. 
"We crashed." 
"You stupid noodle", you giggle, ruffling his hair. 
He smiles and then looks back at the road, finding a new car to push. He makes little motor sounds quietly, almost as if he was lost in his own world. You find a new car too after sneaking one last glance down at him. He is your boyfriend now. Holy shit. Maybe it will not be as bad as you feared it would be. 
"Oh watch out", you gasp and mimic squeaking tires as your car barely manages to pass Jungkook's. 
Jungkook laughs softly.
"Oh that was close", you giggle, finding a new car. 
He giggles, rubbing his nose against you like a cuddly bunny. 
"Now this one, wroom wroom wroooom. Watch out Kookie here it comes", you say, making motor sounds as you push a big bus. Jungkook giggles and feels his heart flutter in his chest. This is so much more fun when he can do it with you. 
"No ___ what are you doing? This is the wrong lane", he murmurs before boom big explosion as your cars collide with each other. You both laugh and giggle, soon finding new cars to push.
And so you and him continue playing gods with unsuspecting cars, making up all sorts of silly stories as you go and it is fun, really and truly fun. You laughed so much that your bellies ached and later when the sun was high above the skyscrapers you fell asleep together, sharing a soft cotton blanket and cuddling the other tightly. Jungkook will empty the remaining four bottles of whiskey even later that day and he will do so with tears of relief streaming down his face while you rub his back and tell him that you are proud of him.
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You meet again on Saturday for coffee and cake in a zombie themed café, which you found on the internet. He came earlier than you, sitting by the window and looking at every passerby with his heart skipping a beat. He felt so nervous, checking his watch every five seconds. You were ten minutes late. It was not a worrying time, perhaps public transport had a delay or spontaneous change in schedule, but it made Jungkook anxious nonetheless. Would you really come? What if you changed your mind? What if you are going to let him wait in this café for hours and never show up? Should he have picked you up at home? Were you expecting him to pick you up?
Jungkook’s eyes widen.
“Wait, did we agree that I pick her up?” he murmurs to himself, raking his brain for answers.
He thinks that they didn’t. He would remember if they did. Or would he? After all his brain is literally mush from withdrawal lately. Just yesterday he couldn’t even remember the passcode to his own apartment and had to call security for help. And this morning he forgot how to use his washing machine and had to skim through the manual.
Jungkook feels his stomach twist.
“Oh god what if I forgot?” he gasps, throwing his hand over his mouth.
He can’t even check up on you because you haven’t given him your number yet. What if he ruined everything now?
Jungkook begins fidgeting nervously, picking at the fluff on his cheeks without even realising that he does it. He ruined it. He ruined it. Oh god he ruined - 
“Hey, sorry I’m late.”
Jungkook raises his head. His mind clears in an instance, a smile replaces his frown.
“Hey”, he jumps to his feet, grasping your hands, “you’re here.”
“Yeah I’m here. Sorry for being late, I took the wrong bus and had to walk like three hundred miles to get here”, you say.
“That’s alright I wasn’t even waiting for so long”, he assures you, “here do you want to sit on the bench? The cushion is very comfortable, it’s shaped like a brain, which is funny”, he says, dragging you to the spot he had previously been sitting in, “here have my brain – I, I mean seat.”
You plop down with a low grunt, watching him clumsily sit down on the chair next to you.
“That wasn’t necessary, I could have taken the chair.”
Jungkook is leaning on the table with his elbows, bent forward to get closer to you and cheeks squished between his hands as he grins at you goofily.
“It’s fine I like chairs”, he says.
Fuck he really is so whipped for you, you think as you study his lovedrunk features. 
“What do you want to drink? I wanted to order and surprise you, but then I thought that that’d be kinda a violation of your freewill so I didn’t order and just waited. Did you have a good drive? Also we need to exchange numbers because I tried to call you, but couldn’t because I don’t have your number. Also how are you doing? Gosh I missed you so much, I was going crazy”, he babbles.
You snort, “were you always rambling that much?”
He closes his mouth and blushes.
“Sorry”, he murmurs, “sorry I know I’m making no sense, but I’m just so excited. I want to tell you a million things and listen to your million things and I”, he blushes even more, “and I am starting to ramble again, I’m sorry I’ll shut up now.”
“No don’t, it’s adorable and to answer your questions. Yes, let’s exchange numbers. I am fine, just a little exhausted. I had a good drive and I have no idea what I wanna drink because I have no idea what places like these offer.”
“Wait, I'll get you a menu!”
And like that he is off his chair and by the counter, asking for a menu. You couldn’t even stop him. He runs back to you once he has gotten it, plopping down on the chair.
“Here for you”, he says, sticking the neon green menu all up in your face.
“Thank you”, you accept it with a chuckle, opening it and skimming through it. The drinks and foods all have zombie themed names. Brainsplatter, fresh guts (spaghetti with tomato sauce), chewed off toe. It was exactly how you had hoped they would be called.
You know that he is watching you and it is making you nervous.
“Do you already know what you’re going to get?” you ask him.
“No, but take your time.”
Your eyes meet. He is grinning, eyes sparkling in the lights.
“What?” you ask him.
“I just don’t ever want to stop looking at you”, he says and sighs dramatically, sagging his shoulders, “you’re so beautiful.”
“Stop it”, you hiss, hiding your face behind the menu.
A second later you can feel it being tugged away and soon you can spot Jungkook’s big eyes peeking at you over the edge. He blinks a few times, most definitely starting to smile as the corners of his eyes are starting to crinkle.
“Fine god”, you groan, dropping the menu, “you’re so adorable Bunny, it’s unbelievable” you murmur, cupping his cheeks to pull him into a sweet kiss.
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He rolls over, mewling a second later when you sink down on his cock again. It was a Tuesday when you saw him again. He took the first appointment, strutting through your door with his red mask on and his body wrapped in a grey tweed suit. You talked for a little before you both couldn’t take it any longer. You ripped off your masks, undressed messily while you kissed and he ate your pussy until your juices were covering his chin. Then he fucked you from behind, pulling your hips on his cock over and over and over again until it became too much for you and him and you climaxed together. That was when you slipped off of him, pushed him onto the mattress and sank down on him to ride him through his overstimulation.
“I can barely handle it, holy shit this is too much”, he sobs, writhing beneath you as his nimble fingers grasp your hips.
“Yeah you can Bunny, now shut up and give me your cock, you good-for-nothing fucktoy”, you taunt, wrapping your fingers around his throat.
Jungkook moans, face contorting in surprised pleasure.
“Holy shit”, he chokes out, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and arching his back. So you squeeze his throat harder, watching his eyelids flutter and his eyes roll back.
“It’s nice, right? Can you feel how your brain is begging for blood?” you taunt, slamming your hips down on his cock.
“Y-yes mistress”, he chokes out, squeezing your wrist.
“How does it make you feel?”
“Fucking incredible”, he lets out in a growl, you can feel his voice vibrate against your fingertips, "don't stop please don’t fucking stop."
“Fuck Bunny, you’re driving me insane.”
You were aching to cum. You can fucking look at Jungkook when you fuck him. You know the way his cheeks look when they flush, know the way his lips part in a desperate gasp for air, know the way his forehead creases when he furrows his brows in pleasure. You also know how his black hair looks like sticking to his sweaty face and you realised that he has the tendency to bite down on his lower lip and roll it between his teeth when you touch his nipples.
So you touch them, tugging on them harshly.
“Ah”, he lets out, biting down on his lower lip in an instance. You squeeze his throat and punish him with a harsh bounce up and down his throbbing length.
“You’re really driving me insane”, you grunt, pinching his other nipple.
Jungkook releases his lip and mewls. His right hand falls to your hips, fingers digging into your flesh bruisingly tightly.
“I wanna cum”, he confesses, opening his eyes just enough to be able to look at you. He is so into this. He can look at you. He knows how your face looks when he fucks you. He decided that you look even better than you did in his imagination.
You squeeze his throat and draw closer until your lips are touching.
“Then fucking do it”, you rasp, pulling away just to be able to watch how his face looks like when you let go of his throat and make the blood shoot back into his brain.
His eyes roll back so far into his skull you only see white, his jaw locks tightly, lips curling back to show his teeth as he grinds them and grunts deeply. Then he shakes and you can feel his hot cum cover every inch of your pussy. His mouth falls open, eyelids fluttering and neck tensing. So that’s how he looks when he orgasms.
“Fucking hell Bunny”, you moan, feeling the coil in your stomach break as you climax on top of him so hard that you feel like someone punched the air out of your lungs.
You collapse on top of him after twenty seconds of feeling breathless, making him slip out of you with a wet sound. His cum gushes everywhere, how wonderful this is going to take ages to clean up. Your legs feel like jelly, your chest fills with so much warmth.
“Fucking hell”, he groans and wraps his arms around you.
“Mhm indeed”, you murmur, drooling on his chest.
“Why are you so good at sex?”
You laugh.
“I had lots of practice.”
“No but you’re literally inhuman. Are you a succubus or something?”
“That’d be a fun roleplay”, you raise your head, “I’m the starving succubus visiting you in your sleep. I wake you with my lips wrapped around your throbbing cock and as you wake up, you realise that I tied your limbs to the bedposts. You’re scared at first but soon find yourself trembling in my touch as I milk your body from all the pleasure you have to offer.”
“Okay that would literally be so hot. Can we do that?”
“Now?” you laugh.
“Not now, someday. Maybe not here”, he dances his hands down to your ass to caress it softly, “maybe at my place when you stay over again.”
“You wanna have sex outside this place?”
He laughs in disbelief and furrows his brows.
“Yeah? Why not?”
“Wouldn’t that be weird?”
“Why would that be weird? We’re dating.”
He laughs in disbelief again, propping himself up on his elbows.
“Why would that be weird?” he asks sadly.
You gnaw on your lower lip then lower your eyes.
“I don’t know, I just…”
You look back at Jungkook. He is confused, just as you are. You don’t know why you are acting so weird right now or why the thought of you and Jungkook fucking anywhere other than this room is scaring you so much, but it does. Maybe it is because it just reminded you once again that another person was depending on you and in return you had a person to lose and so you panicked.
“Please talk to me ___.”
“That’s so intimate. What would we even do?”
Jungkook laughs in confusion, “have sex? Just like we do here, but without the awful house music and the smell of strangers and your boss literally exploiting you.”
“Hush, oh my god, don’t say that”, you hiss, pressing your hand over his mouth and looking over your shoulder at the very locked door.
Jungkook shakes your hand off, licking his lips and furrowing his brows.
“It’s the truth.”
“Don’t say that Bunny please”, you whisper, pressing him down into the pillows and hovering over him. You muffle him with both hands, staring into his eyes. He looks at you with unconditional trust in his gaze. You exhale shakily and take away your hands, “I’m sorry for doing that.”
“It’s alright”, he assures you and reaches up to tug a strand of hair behind your ear, “why are you scared that she hears you? It’s the truth and you know that it is. You shouldn’t have to give away eighty percent of your money, not when you have to accept shitty fucks from shitty dudes.”
“It, it’s right that way. They use the money to keep the club nice and give u-us girls good health care a-and food and a home. It’s used for us.”
“I’m sorry, but that sounds more like manipulation to me than anything else. Hey, give me eighty percent of your income so you can stay poor and never escape this life. And as you continue being dependent on me taking care of your basic human needs, I make money off of you and pretend as if I am doing it for you.”
“Why are you saying this?”
“I’m just saying ___, you and the other girls should earn enough money that you don’t have to depend on your fucking employer to pay for your health care and your food and your home.”
You lower your head, “what should I do? It’s not like anyone wants to hire a twenty five year old prostitute with no educational background or academic knowledge.”
“Quit this job and let me take care of you.”
“What?”
“Quit it, I will take care of you until you know what you want to do. You can go to university and study however many majors you want, you can start an apprenticeship somewhere, you can volunteer or stay at home and do nothing.”
“No”, you shake your head, “no don’t say that.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s too much”, you say and sit up to roll off him.
Jungkook chases you, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to you. He drapes his arm across your hips, caressing it softly. He leans down and kisses your naked shoulder.
“Don’t do that”, you hiss, shaking him off.
He blinks and furrows his brows.
“Hey…my love”, he whispers, resting his cheek on your shoulder.
“Get off of me”, you hiss and push him away so harshly that he falls down on his elbows.
“___”, he gasps.
You stare at him.
You can see that it hurt him. His eyes, which are normally so sparkly in the presence of you, become lifeless and sad.
“Sorry for pushing you” now you are panicking because you fear that you went too far with being distant. After all, you didn’t want to actually push him away, you just wanted to keep a little safe distance between you and him, “I don’t know why I did that, sorry", you say and stumble on top of his lap, wrapping your arms around him and resting your cheek on his chest.
Jungkook exhales loudly, grinding his teeth.
“Please give me time. I don’t want to quit my job just yet, please.”
Jungkook sneaks a glance at you and blinks quickly to get rid of the burn in his eyes.
“Does that mean that you want to have sex with other men beside me?”
“What?” you lift your head and gawk at him.
“That’s what that means. You have sex for a living ___.”
“I, I”, you swallow heavily, “Jungkook I’m sorry, no it’s, it’s not like that. It’s j-just that I, I”, you grunt and force down a panicky gag, “we can hang on every day”, you try and stare into his eyes.
Holy shit, holy shit. You are so scared and nervous. What are you saying? What should you say? What is happening to you? Why are you so panicky right now?
“Hang?”
You nod your head vigorously, “I make my Wednesday my Bunny day and you can come here a-and then we can meet on other days whenever, except Tuesday and Thursday,.”
He lets out a breathy laugh and looks to the side, “well, that’s…I don’t know what to say.”
“Do you not want to hang?” you gasp.
“Of course I want to”, he pouts, “what the hell? I thought we were seeing each other and now you just want to hang on Wednesdays and whenever.”
“I told you, we can hang on other days too.”
“Don’t call it hanging.”
“Well what else should I call it?”
“Spending time together, seeing each other, being with each other. I don’t know, just not something so casual.”
“Okay then let’s spend time together on Wednesdays and on Saturdays? Then I’ll clear my schedule for you on Wednesday and on Saturday we can do whatever we want to do.”
“Does it really have to be so scheduled? What if I wanted to see you on Friday or Monday or Tuesday?”
“Then you’d have to call Miss Boss and ask her if I’m still available.”
He lowers his head.
“Sorry”, you blurt out panicky, “I work from Tuesday to Thursday, but I’m free any other day. And I make Wednesday your day. Jungkook please”, you say and cup his face.
Now you pushed him away too much. You need to tug him back, keep him close so he doesn’t end up running away. You don’t want to lose him. You really don’t.
“Okay yeah, uhm”, he sneaks a glance your way, “I’ll see what I can do.”
And with that he pushes you off of him, stumbling to the bathroom with his head hanging low.
You stare at the empty doorway, fearing that maybe this isn’t going to be as easy as you believe it would be.
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minyfic · 13 hours ago
Text
angels like you - JJK | M
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↣ show up and dance, that’s what you expected to happen on another insipid Saturday evening that was stolen by your college, what you didn’t expect was a dance partner who was chosen for you without your knowledge.
read another social experiment here ⚘
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pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: smut, fluff, s2l
word count: 3.8K
warnings/tags: college au, social experiment, dancer!jungkook, dancer!reader, strong language, buff JK aha, explicit smut- dirty talk, biting/scratching, hickeys, car sex, grinding, clit pinching, fingering, edging, pussy slapping, hair pulling, slight overstimulation, riding, protected sex
a/n: just because I keep thinking about social experiments that’ll never happen irl & Jungkook’s abs | The song they dance to is Sin City by Chrishan
Shoving the double doors open, you halt in your step when the sight of a huge partition at the center of the hall greets you.
You haven’t been here for years, but you know well enough that the partition was Mrs. Ahn’s idea.
Sighing, you adjust your gym bag strap on your shoulder and make your way toward Hoseok, whose excitement causes you to groan internally. You set your bag on the bench against the wall and cross your legs as you sit next to him on the cool flooring, loud chatter drowning out any other sound.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” he beams, nudging your shoulder, “are you excited for today?”
Scrubbing your palms down your face, you rest your elbows on your thighs and give him an unenthusiastic nod.
He clicks his tongue, arms on your shoulders, “come on. It’s gonna be fun.”
“Well,” you shrug off his hold, “it’ll be fun for you because you actually liked your routine. I hate mine.”
“You’ve being saying that for the past two weeks, but you literally kill the dance.”
You roll your eyes, “yeah, but that doesn’t mean I like it.”
He taps his chin, “what don’t you like about it?”
“I don’t know,” you fiddle with your shoelaces, “it just feels incomplete. Not the routine…But like, the dance.”
You wave your arms in the air when he shoots you a confused look.
“I don’t know how to explain it!”
This dumb experiment is what caused your recent moods to be so shitty and out of control. Everybody else in your class received their own, fun, show-stopping choreography while you were stuck to practice a mediocre routine that felt…unfinished. The isolations and pauses annoyed you. While Hoseok said that everyone’s routine is different, that didn’t stop you from asking Mrs. Ahn for a new one. She had declined, obviously.
“I wonder if they have the tracks ready,” Hoseok whispers, you follow his line of sight to the DJ on the other end of the stage.
Adding to your irritation, the song that was chosen for you. If you hear it one more time, you might puke all over the stage.
It’s sexy, any other day, you would’ve loved it, but it just added to the feeling that the dance might be lacking.
You have no idea whether this counts toward your portfolio, so you couldn’t make any alterations, or add your own spice to the dance.
“What’s with the partition?”
Hoseok whips his head around to stare at the white, immovable barrier, some students lean against it as they chat.
“I think there’s other students on the other side.”
You narrow your eyes at him, mouth in a frown, “why would they separate us?”
He shrugs, still eyeing the large wall that starts at the edge of the stage and ends at the back of the hall.
“Must be part of the experiment.”
This whole experiment that Mrs. Ahn has been raging on about for a month and a half, without providing proper details, sets an uncomfortable stir in your gut.
Given a song and a routine, you were to prepare for an audience.
The problem is that you have no idea who might be sitting in that audience, who you have the potential to disappoint. A shiver courses along the length of your spine, clenching your fists before going through the insipid routine in your head.
After another ten minutes of speculation between you and Hoseok, Mrs. Ahn emerges from behind the curtain on the stage as it draws open, wearing a hideous poncho.
“Good evening students!”
She receives a phlegmatic response which causes her eyebrows to furrow, although her smile doesn’t falter.
“Ah. I know this must seem like a waste of a Saturday night but I promise, it’ll be worth it.”
Your scoff earns a giggle from Hoseok.
When you acknowledge that she’s speaking to both sides of the partition, you surmise that Hoseok was correct.
“Alright, I know me and Mr. Choi,” she smiles at the unfamiliar man who stands behind the DJ, wearing a navy-blue tracksuit, “haven’t given you much to work with, but today’s the day. Why have you been working so hard these past few weeks?”
The students around you straighten their posture, some wearing grins that display their alacrity while others sport the same expression you’ve had for the past hour.
She clears her throat, squinting at the paper supposed Mr. Choi hands her.
“Okay,” she begins, “the aim of this social experiment is to prove the different bonds that can be formed through dance.”
You poke Hoseok’s shoulder, “hasn’t this been done before?”
He hushes you with a dismissive wag of his finger, fixated on Mrs. Ahn as she continues to read.
“But, we’ve given each of you different routines. What you don’t know is that we’ve selected a partner from another college-“ she points to your side of the partition “-college A-“ then the other side “-college B.”
Her loud chuckle causes your heart rate to pick up, interest in the experiment building the more she speaks.
“Who has also been practicing your routine!”
You smack Hoseok’s arm, stomach twisting with nerves. He retaliates with a smack of his own, heart-shaped smile even brighter.
“Now, you must be wondering why this big hunk of plastic is splitting the hall into two. Well, we need to keep you separated until you perform your dance, where you meet and perform together for the first time! You know, so the results of the experiment aren’t affected.”
Hoseok pats your shoulder, “maybe what your dance needed was a partner.”
You blink, not given enough time to process his statement before Mrs. Ahn instructs everyone to warm-up before she starts calling people out to perform.
“Oh, and one more thing,” she grins, “after your performance, you’re free to stay and watch the others or head home. You must report back to me or Mr. Choi. Thank you and I hope you all have fun!”
Spinning around, you see Hoseok wiggling his eyebrows.
“Told you it might be fun.”
You shove his shoulder, rolling your neck and arms, “this was before you knew any of the secret partner shit.”
His head cocks to the side, “yeah, I just know things.”
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It isn’t long before you’re all seated as Mrs. Ahn calls out a name from your college, then the other. You’ve seen Taehyung practice and you know what to expect from his dance, but the look of wonder on his face when he sees his partner, Park Jimin, for the first time, has more nerves fizzing. What would it be like when you see your partner? What would they be like? How would you dance together? Would you even dance together like how Taehyung and his partner seem to mesh into the movements?
By the end of their dance, you can tell that they’d be good friends, if the way Taehyung ruffles Jimin’s hair is any indication. They choose to watch the other students perform and disappear behind the partition, laughter surrounding them.
“Jung Hoseok.”
You pat Hoseok’s bum as he passes you, everyone cheering him on as he makes his way up the stairs and onto the stage, spring in his step as always.
“Lee Eunji.”
All the students fill the air with suggestive ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ as they bow and the jaunty theme of their song begins.
Hoseok, being Hoseok, invites her closer to him as they dance, smiles splitting their faces with each of their snappy, practiced movements.
You’re smiling just as wide, thrilled to see him enjoying himself with a complete stranger, how their movements connect, bouncing in the air, sliding into each other.
“Go Hoseok!”
Cheeks beginning to ache, you slip back on the floor when the song comes to a close, palms burning with your applause.
“Would you like to stay and watch or are you heading out?”
Hoseok glances at Eunji, hands on his hips as he catches his breath.
She shakes her head, “we’re heading out.”
Everyone goes delirious, whoops shaking the hall as they disappear behind the curtain.
You’re impatient to hear about Hoseok’s new friend, it’s been a while since his last relationship. Mostly because it fucked him up, and to see him enjoy himself with someone new makes your heart soar.
Broken out of your thoughts, you throat goes dry when you hear your name being called, unfolding your legs as you pad along the wooden floor, corners of your mouth lifting when you see Mrs. Ahn waiting at the top of the stairs.
From the stage, you can see over twenty curious eyes blinking at you, half of them you don’t recognize.
“Jeon Jungkook.”
Clenching your fists, the same whoops cause your throat to constrict when you see your partner.
Black shorts and t-shirt, dark blue shirt draped over his broad shoulders, silver earrings, black hair, handsome.
Hot. That’s how you feel as he stands next to you on the stage. Chancing a glance, you catch sight of a dimple in his cheek as he sucks his lower lip into his mouth, bowing when he sees you looking at him.
For a millisecond, you’re rooted to the floor, palms sweaty, mind going blank as his gaze rakes down your figure, pausing on your thighs.
You have a reputation to uphold and as soon as the music starts, you’re swaying, unable to tear your gaze away from him as he mirrors your movements. He’s watching you too, from five feet away.
Sin Sin City wasn’t made for you Angels like you
Your fingers crawl across your chest, one leg in front of the other as you snap forward, eyes on his movements, just as fluid. He body rolls toward you, and for a split second you forget the next move but cover it up with a bounce of your leg. He seems to catch it, a smirk stretching over his lips as he moves even closer.
Oh you know it, oh you know it Oh you know it Right now
“I don’t bite.” He says, loud enough for you to hear, voice clear and smooth, like his movements, sending a shiver down your spine. Breath beginning to quicken, you spin around to be met with his firm chest. So, your dance was designed for a partner. Everybody’s dance was, but you only notice it when his hand slides under your arm, chest pressed against yours, hooded eyes watching you.
Take that off I just wanna see you Your legs so soft I had to be near you
You twirl around, hair flopping over your face as you bend over, ass out, feeling his legs press into the backs of your thighs. Did…Mrs. Ahn choreograph this dance? Snapping up, left arm in the air, his lips graze your ear as you sink back down, body held up by his, heat radiating off his chest.
Thoughts in mind, going so crazy I just wanna hear you
Too immersed in his scorching stare, you feel him lift you up by the shoulders, spinning you around and guiding your hips to the beat, sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead. His pink lips, doe eyes, silky skin are things you would never see in your wildest dreams. Who would’ve thought that you’d end up meeting a sexy man during this stupid experiment? Not you.
He slings an arm around your waist as you slide down, chin tipping up as you stare at him, light casting an ethereal glow to his face. When you come back up, his lips are a breath away from yours, parted, hot air blowing into your mouth. You gulp, suddenly remembering that you have an audience to please and bounding a few feet away from him, getting back in the groove, but his touch on your waist returns, reminding you that this dance is meant for two.
One touch on your body, what I’ve prepared for you Nothing will spare you
“Running away from me.” He rasps into your ear, eyes on the way your leg slips between his his, palms on his chest. “No,” you breathe, smoothing your hair over your shoulder as you back into him, lips curling into a smirk. He accepts your hips, grinding into you, strong thighs dragging along yours.
Pussy so wet, I feel the drip coming down Must be in Houston
His fingers patter along your back, bringing you flush to his chest as his hand slips under yours another time, legs sliding back as yours slide forward, grinning at each other. You’re lost in his warmth, adrenalin rushing through your veins when he sinks to his knees and crawls forward, jolting back up to stand a few feet behind you.
You close your eyes, you feel the rise, I go inside I’m shooting
Eyes on the crowd now, you repeat the movements from earlier, feeling his stare on your ass when you skip forward and jerk around, hands sliding over your hair and down your sides. You want to entertain him more than anyone else.
Sin City wasn’t made for you Angels like you
In one swift movement, you’re yanked into his chest again, stumbling a bit as the song ends. Your eyes follow his tongue as it skims across his lower lip, hands resting on his sides, trying to catch your breath, the cheers from the other students are background noise to your thundering heart.
Mrs. Ahn’s signature chuckle causes you to spring away from him, lip caught between your teeth.
“I think we all know your answer,” she winks.
Jungkook glances at you before his hand slips into yours, grabbing his backpack from the corner of the stage, then drags you down the stairs. You scoop up your gym bag, cheeks heating as you pass the other students who yell all kinds of obscene encouragement.
When you bound out of the hall, he’s pressing you into the notice board, head dipping as he speaks.
“I’m Jungkook,” he pants, blinking furiously.
“I know,” you smile, appreciating the glint in his eyes as he stares into yours, seeing a cute mole under bottom lip.
He lets go of your shoulders and scratches behind his ear, glancing at the car park that’s visible through the glass doors at the end of the hallway.
“Do you wanna go—”
“Yeah,” you shuffle down the hallway, hoping things aren’t turning awkward after your electrifying dance.
Wringing your hands, you point to your car that’s parked in the unlit corner of the lot, wondering how he got here.
He follows you wordlessly, chucking his bag in the backseat when you unlock your car.
You grip the steering wheel, staring into the darkness through the windshield, the lights from inside the hall do little to brighten up the area.
In your eighteen years of dancing, you’ve never felt that way, ever, when you danced with anyone. Maybe it was the song, maybe it was the routine itself, maybe it was just him. You don’t know. All you know is that he smells amazing as he presses his forehead to yours, cupping your cheeks, heart skipping a few beats.
“Is this okay?”
Skin erupting in a wave of goosebumps, sweat trickling down your neck, pussy clenching when your eyes meet, you nod, moaning with the first brush of his lips against yours, arms sliding up his toned shoulders to rest on the curves of his neck, breathing in his delicious scent. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss as his thumb rubs the skin below your ear, tongue slipping into your mouth.
“Fuck,” he groans, pulling away with a shaky sigh, “what the fuck was that.”
“I…” you begin, searching for the correct words as this man, who was a stranger only an hour ago, kisses down your neck, and you can’t bring yourself to stop him because it feels so good.
His eyebrows knit together, wet strands of hair pressing into your forehead, lips connecting once more, as if words are nothing compared to the sparking caresses, the drop your stomach does when he places his hands on your hips, lifting you up onto his lap.
“We just met and I feel…I feel—”
You rock your hips, his erection pressing into your core, moans mixing in the air when you do it again and again, soaking through the material of your leggings.
“Want you,” he chases your lips, hips jerking up, causing a fresh wave of arousal to soak your panties when you hear the whine in his voice.
Burying your face in his heated skin, you suckle on the junction between his neck and shoulder, windows fogging up with your heavy breaths, similar to the way lust jumbles any other thought, the knot building in your abdomen with each drag of his cock against your clit, nipping the skin as he grinds into you, hot breath hitting your ear.
“Fuck, if you keep doing that,” he grits, fingers twisting into your hair, a string of curses slipping from his lips as your hips work faster, “’m gonna cum.”
“Want you to cum,” you mewl, pussy clenching when your eyes lock, lips kiss-bitten and slick, the sparkle in his eyes illuminating the dim space.
His palms slide up your thighs, fingers digging into the flesh to pause your movements. His eyebrow jumps in question, corner of his mouth quirking up when you hiss as he snaps the band of your leggings.
“Yes,” you sigh, desperate for friction, whimpering when his hand dips into your panties, choosing to slide across your folds, gathering your slick on his fingers.
Your head lolls forward, colliding with his shoulder when his thumb nudges your clit, with his index and middle finger sinking into your heat, gasping out his name as he massages your walls, calloused pads of his fingers dragging along the ridges, his other hand rocking your hips into his palm, thumb rubbing tight circles on your throbbing bud.
He hooks his fingers on the fifth stroke and your pussy squeezes around his fingers, teeth piercing into your bottom lip, so close to the edge.
He places his index finger under your chin, tipping your head up, pupils blown, cheeks flushed.
“Gonna cum?”
You nod meekly, rutting into his hand, knowing your slick must be dripping down his fingers and the stickiness of his hand that rubs against your thigh proves it, blurting out how amazing his fingers feel, how hot you think he is, how good he smells.
His hand is back on your thigh, holding you in place as he fucks his fingers into you ruthlessly, moaning with you when you bite down on his shoulder to keep from screaming out his name.
“Shit, so tight. Take my fingers so well,” he husks, and much to your dismay, removes his fingers from inside you, placing them flat on your clit, “can imagine how good you’ll feel bouncing on my cock.”
Eyes wide in shock, lips trembling, you bang a fist on his chest from having your orgasm ripped away, pussy clenching around nothing.
He taps your swollen folds twice, pinching your clit with his thumb and forefinger before landing two harsh smacks to your cunt, causing you to tremble, eyes glazing over.
The heavy outline of his cock catches your eye, fingers snaking down his side to squeeze it in your palm, relishing in the way his Adam’s apple bobs as his head hits the seat, mumbling out your name.
“Take it out.”
You don’t process his words until his eyes snap open, staring at you through his lashes.
Tugging on the band of his shorts, you pull it over his meaty thighs, salivating at the glistening tip of his thick cock, precum smeared along the head.
He cups your jaw, thumb pressing into your cheek as he reaches behind him with his other his hand, unzipping the front compartment of his backpack, producing a condom.
You’re stock still under his fiery gaze, firm grip on your jaw keeping your eyes on him as he rips open the condom packet with his teeth, spitting out the piece of foil that got into his mouth. That shouldn’t be hot, but here you are, pussy ready to be split open by his girthy cock that twitches when you lick your lips.
His eyes dart to your leggings and you scramble to pull it off your legs, struggling for a bit before he helps you, useless fabric being thrown in the back seat.
Eyes still on yours, he pushes your panties to the side, covering his fingers in your slick before popping the digits into his mouth, a whimper bubbles from your lips at the sight. He points to his cock with his big doe eyes, licking his fingers clean.
With shaky fingers, you grip the base of his cock and lift your hips over his length, slit positioned over the blunt tip, eyes watering as you sink down, loud moans echoing in the stuffy space.
Fully sheathed in your heat, he wraps his arms around your torso, bringing you into his chest as he pistons his hips, cock lodged deep inside you with each pleasurable drag.
“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he pecks the side of your head, speaking through gritted teeth as you lose yourself on his cock, bouncing weakly, ass rippling when your skin slaps against his.
Walls closing around his length, you jolt when he brushes that sensitive spot inside you, hands slipping into his hair as you chase your high for the second time tonight, clit rubbing against his pelvis, drenching his lap with your arousal.
“Fuck, bounce on my cock baby. Come on.”
Fulfilling his breathless request, you place your hands on his shoulders and lift your hips faster, spasming on each thrust, thighs burning, more sweat pooling under your shirt, nails forming crescent moons on his skin, groaning out his name when your abdomen knots impossibly tight.
When he tugs on your hair, massaging your scalp straight after to soothe the burn, teeth clamping down on your earlobe, you cum, seeing stars behind your lids, hips still working as you ride out your high, mouth hanging open in a silent moan, immersed in the burn, mind going hazy.
Cheek resting on his shoulder, you cry out as he continues to slide into your throbbing hole, laying limp in his hold as he spills into the condom, blurting out his own praises.
A satisfied sigh leaves your swollen lips, nuzzling into the soft material of his shirt. You never would’ve thought that tonight with end this way, with an attractive, beefy guy kissing the top of your head, sniffing through your hair.
Bodies stuck together, hissing when his cock slips out of you, he runs his palms down your back, index fingers resting in the dip. You could fall asleep in his warm embrace but the next thing he says has your eyes snapping open.
“Should we…report back now?”
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a/n: please don’t feel shy to send in feedback, hearing your thoughts serve as motivation :)
talk to my characters
⤺Masterlist
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taglist: @ggukkieland @moonchild1 @mwitsmejk @fancycollectormoon @nglmrk @bex-92br @taeslarityy @helenazbmrskai @deliciouslydisturbed365 @sweetonkookieandtae
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btsarmy9593 · 16 hours ago
Anyone else wondering what Yoongi and his Birthday Girl are up to this weekend? Just me? Ok. 🤣
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Birthday Girl Drabble - Lazy Sunday - (September 26, 2021)
rating: PG
word count: 414
a/n: unedited and horribly self-indulgent fic, don't read until you've read part 13
series list
---
It’s still morning on this Sunday, halfway between breakfast and lunch when he finally gets up out of bed and stumbles to where you’re sitting. You’re on your third cup of tea, marking up a book recommended to you by your best friend.
You look over at him and smile.
The rumpled hair, glasses, black on black pajamas is one of your favorite Yoongi looks.
“Americano?” you ask, keeping your voice soft.
He grunts and heads to the kitchen. You chuckle and go back to your book. You’d make the americano for him, but he’s grumpy when you try and serve him when he’s already up.
It’s several minutes later that he comes back, steaming mug in hand and sits next to you. Despite the length of the couch, he squeezes in next to you like space is needed for some imaginary guests. He doesn’t say anything as he sips his coffee, looking over your shoulder as though he cares what you’re reading.
He doesn’t but he’s cute.
You turn your head once you find a stopping place in the text. “Morning.”
He kisses you, reaching out to set his mug on your coffee table. He pushes your book out of your hands, not unlike a petulant child. You giggle against his lips.
“Why yes, Yoongi, you may kiss me and distract me from my work.”
He grunts again, cupping your face in his hands and drawing back to look at you. You’re not sure how much he sees as his glasses are slightly fogged from your mingling breaths. You accommodate him, returning his kisses as you ease toward him and letting him fall back on the sofa with you on top.
“Hi.” you say when you pull back for a mini-break.
He blinks several times. “Hi.”
You shiver. His morning, sleepy voice always gives you tingles. You have no idea if he knows that yet and you’re not sure he needs more ammunition on how well he can unravel you.
You push his hair out of his eyes and he smiles at you.
“I can make you breakfast?”
He shakes his head, his arms wrapped around you. You rest your chin on his chest, your own eyes fluttering shut. He’s so warm and it’s definitely autumn outside, the chill evident even inside your house.
You’re drifting off to sleep, especially as he strokes your hair with one hand. You figure a mid-morning nap with your partner is a well-spent Sunday.
“Love you, jagiya.”
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inkofyoongi · 2 days ago
Text
I'm on the run with you, my sweet love | 3
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❀ Wordcount: 20k ❀ Genre: Fluff/Angst/Smut | Fake dating!AU ● FWB to lovers!AU ● Road trip!AU ❀ Jungkook x Reader ❀ Chapter warnings: light and brief mention of sex (mostly the reader’s fantasy getting wild) and Jungkook kissing the reader hard and long finally!!! ❀ Description: when Taehyung suggests you all go on a one-week road-trip to Busan to enjoy Jimin’s “last days of freedom” before his marriage, you aren’t very much surprised –after all, your best friend is a master at coming up with stupid plans. But feigning that Jungkook is your boyfriend for one night is even more stupid. Just as it is even more stupid to ask to your (fake) boyfriend to take part at the (stupid) road-trip. And even more (more) stupid is starting a FWB affair with your abovementioned (fake) boyfriend. What is certain, it’s that nothing good can grow from a fake relationship born of idiocy… can’t it? Aka, the first time Jungkook pretends to be your boyfriend is accidental. The second time is a mistake… or maybe not. ❀ A/N: I don’t know if someone is actually following this story here on Tumblr, but thanks to whoever is reading it! As always, opinions/comments/likes/reblogs are appreciated 🥰 Hope you’ll enjoy it. Good read ♡
✎ Previous chapter | 3 | Next chapter ✎ Crossposted on: AO3 | Wattpad ✎ Masterlist
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This can't be true…
There’s only an hour left before the beginning of Jimin’s party, and you’re completely frozen . 
Not only on a physical aspect, with your body now reduced to a pile of nerves tensing at the slightest movement as you stay upright in front of your opened wardrobe, blank eyes fixed on the dresses hung in there without really seeing them; but also mentally, with your brain obsessed over the sequence of events occurred recently, unable to focus on anything else: Seokjin getting married (the blow to the stomach you feel is unperceivable now, but still able to swell up your eyes with tears); Jungkook pretending to be your boyfriend in front of your ex; Jungkook inviting you to his place (probably-no, certainly moved to pity) and then walking you home, questioning you about your past relationships; your friends’ disappointment for hiding your abovementioned (fake) boyfriend to them; their incessant requests badgering you into taking him to the party—!
"Let me be your boyfriend, (Y/N).”
Jungkook’s words, echoing back in your mind like a gentle, windy whisper, give you a bone-crushing jolt -pulling you out from your own dizziness. Finally regaining control of your own body, you catch a small breath, going back to searching for a nice outfit that would suit tonight’s occasion, hands moving the clothes hangers with quick gestures. 
Seconds pass, and your features morph in a mask of dissatisfaction because any garment seems to be opportune for the event. A grunt flies out your mouth when you start your search from the beginning, frustrated over the little choice you have when it comes to clothes (which is far from little; but, as stated in the unwritten, cosmic law of wardrobes: no matter how many clothes you own: be sure you will never find the right one for you in time of need).
Then, your movements reduce speed, clothes hangers sliding on the shaft slower and slower -till your muscles tense all at once again, paralyzing you on your spot, eyes fixed on the folds of a skirt just like a few minutes ago…
"Let me be your boyfriend, (Y/N).”
Your heart gives a great lurch, gets stuck between your ribcage and flails around in the attempt to disentangle. It beats so feverishly you can feel every inch of you vibrate from head to toes (curled. Curled so hard you’re getting cramps in your calves), while the embarrassment flares up your face.
Damn … how can you concentrate when your brain keeps winding that moment back, replaying his low voice -that drips on every fiber of your being like molasses- like it was the chorus of your favorite song?
You let out a breath that flickers in your throat, closing your eyes to vainly mitigate the turmoil in your heart. A bad move indeed, because his picture appears in the back of your eyelids without further ado, as if he was nestled between the folds of your brain: you can’t forget about his wide doe-eyes brimmed with expectation, polluted by a glint of fear for your persistent silence; that twinkling in his brown irises that made you say: “ Ok, let’s do it ” in a barely whispered hush, forgetful of the inevitable consequences -heedless of the sense of guilt curled up in the abyss of your chest; his smile unfolding in slow motion, like a Morning Glory’s petals stretching and uncurling to full bloom at the first kiss of sunshine -a crack of effulgent gracefulness that shattered the worry tensing up his features. 
You can't forget about Jungkook, and how he seemed genuinely convinced of his abrupt decision -genuinely excited about this whole (fake) dating thing as he walked backward toward the door, without ripping his gaze off you, exclaiming: “ I swear I’ll fix this mess!”
And, all of a sudden, everything gets calm and quiet deep inside of you. 
Like the stillness after an impetuous storm, a thought suddenly dawns on your smothering doubts: Jungkook won't come. It’s a guarantee, like the sun will always rise in the East. His glistening eyes and the sweet curve of his smile weren’t fake; even that: " See you later, (Y/N)," that delicately tumbled off his tongue sounded firm. But now that reality is detoxifying your brain, you can see things for what they are: his gestures tasted like the hugs he gave you at the airport; like the promise that your friendship would never succumb to the distance.
As much as you'd like to think that Jungkook has turned into a man who keeps his word, the distrustful side of you tells you that he isn’t reliable -to stop pipe-dreaming, because you’ll only end up hurting yourself. You've a long list of broken promises that originated long before he departed to take charge of his new life -when his love for Kyoko was too scorching and it was just too natural for you to be put in the sidelines. For sure, he's going to regret his abrupt decision and will come up with a good excuse to not show up. 
A sense of benefic relief fills your whole body, pulling up the corner of your mouth. You pick up a dress, thumb brushing over the fabric as you study the circular patterns drawn on it.
Sure, it'd be quite hurtful the idea that his gentleness is just a facade -and it’d be absolutely embarrassing to reveal to your best friends that there isn’t any boyfriend in sight; but on the other hand, you can now shove aside your sense of guilt and spend a good night on your own as initially planned: you don't have to lie; you don't have to pretend to be in love with someone who isn't your real sweetheart; you don't have to control your words or actions; you don't have to come up with inexistent tales about a phantomatic love life -risking to get caught in an inextricable web of lies—!
A little scream scratches your throat when the door knocks, scraping the silence that kept you company for all this time. A muscle twitches in your neck when you turn to your bedroom door, heart plummeting in the mild nausea brewing in your stomach; you lose the grip around the dress, gently falling at your feet as you slowly approach the entrance, poking your head out of the doorframe and into the living room. 
You give a quick look at the hallway, ears perked up as if you were trying to catch any sound coming from the other side of the apartment -even your hotot rabbit, sprawled along the sofa, has straightened a bit, at attention. But silence settles once again upon you, making you think that it was just a figment of your terrorized imagination. Convinced that nobody knocked at your door, you’re on the cusp of going back to your bedroom. Alas, a second knock pierces through the silence, and you can only accept the harsh reality: someone is really waiting for you to open the door.
You lower your head, wondering what you have done in your past life to deserve to get in this trouble. As you make your way down toward the front door, you pray this is just a joke. Yeah, I mean… maybe it's just the noisy child from downstairs -a little brat who loves playing shitty pranks with his friends, like, ring the doorbell and run away; or, maybe, it's your not so friendly neighbour who needs some sugar (and you realize you’re being swallowed in a spiral of desperation when you start hoping that it’s actually him, on the other side).
You hug your arms tighter around yourself, staring at the wooden surface as if you were on the verge of stumbling into a black hole (which would be a nicer perspective if compared to what actually expects you tonight).
"This can't be true," you repeat in a mumble, tightening the handle. With your heart throbbing in your ears, you open the door, slowly. “Please, don’t let it be Jungkook. Please, please—” and when your eyes finally lay upon the man at a few steps from you, an earthquake of nervousness cripples you: Jeon Jungkook is there, on the other side. 
And, oh God , he's so handsome you almost forget how to do something basic like greeting. Or talking. Or breathing. Seriously, ravishing beauty togs him up from head to toes in such an enchanting way that words have deserted you, as your, “ Hey, hello ” gets lost in a small breath.
Now… as soon as Jungkook stepped out from your shop, you firmly swiped away every fantasy revolving around this night, dedicating yourself entirely to your job as good a way as any to keep your mind busy. However, you’ve always had this bad habit to think about him in spare moments (you thought that certain things would change after crossing the thirty-years-line; but, apparently, some gestures are so deeply rooted inside of you that you can’t get rid of them) and as the afternoon dragged out into evening, you found yourself picturing him in the back of your mind more often than not: you imagined the short sleeve loose-fitting T-shirt of his favorite brand covering his torso -the well-defined line of his pecs sketching against the fabric at every deep breath he takes; a pair of tight jeans ripped on the knees that emphasize the circumference of his narrow waist, or low-riding trousers that don’t do justice to his thick thighs (not that you had any real chance to ascertain that they’re indeed thick); his blondish hair worn in a tiny ponytail, the bits that couldn't stay secured into the scrunchy gently falling along his temples.
You pictured Jungkook you’re used to seeing every single day -Jungkook from your college days; the boy who thought that a hoodie was the height of elegance.
But, holy shit , you aren’t prepared for this Jungkook.
The man before your wide eyes goes beyond every fantasy or expectation you built in the past few hours (proving that Jungkook is too extraordinary to be a pathetic cliché): his blondish hair is pulled back by some jelly-like substance that creates a shiny effect when the light hits just the right angle, and swept to the side, revealing a dark undercut on the left part of his head; only a solitary lock falls over his eye -inviting you to curl it around your finger and brush it aside, so you can expose his (kissable) forehead. Tonight’s hairstyle accentuates the masculinity of his thirty two years, and every inch of skin touched by time seems to smash at your face all the years of void cascaded between the pair of you (all the women who probably had, and still have, the luck to actually lay their fingertips all over him).
You swallow thickly, scrutinizing the unperturbed gaze he’s giving you back. The small voice inside of you begs you to close the door on this stranger's nose. To slam it, to pretend you aren't at home, to change identity and pack your damn belongings and—!
“Hi, (Y/N).”
… and stay. Just stay. For your name, and the delicacy he uses to pronounce it. For his effulgent smile that softens his features and seems to assure you that everything will be alright, henceforth.
This is your Jeon Jungkook…
The delicate smile that changes his whole face and makes you feel like the selfish girl who used to internally exult each time his relationships fell apart -fueling the silly hope that he’d look at you with different eyes, someday, coming to the realization that you two could be a perfect match if he’d only give you the chance to display every ounce of love your heart dripped for him (until another girl, the right one, arrived and stayed -stayed in a way you always wanted to stay, making you understand that you weren’t fit to shine his shoes. You still aren’t .)
A punch in your stomach snaps you back down to reality. “Hi...” you manage to say, too tongue-twisted to formulate a longer speech of welcome. You try to give him back a small smile, but the corners of your mouth tremble if you only try to pull them up. 
You lose a myriad of heartbeats on his jawline, sharper now that he's turned to the side to observe the wall. His eyes crinkle in the corner, a small giggle lets out his mouth. “There’s a little spider,” he says, pointing his finger toward the wall. 
His peacefulness should alarm you, considering the situation you’re going to face tonight -but he reminds you of Sunday mornings (when you can stay a little longer in your bed, when the rain gently taps on the window and your rabbit rolls around the crumpled sheets) and it washes away your nervousness.
“Ah… I hope it’s nicer than my neighbours,” you reply, without the real intention to make a (poor) joke. Jungkook exhales his airy laughter, though, and makes your stomach churn because you aren’t prepared to confront all this breathing-magnificence. You slightly shake your head. “Ahm, come in.” You open the door a little wider for him to step through.
Jungkook hesitates, despite the calm he exudes just by standing there -gazing at your face with so much intensity and carefulness you start fearing that your mascara has all but fucking faded. But then, you notice he takes a deep breath as if he wasn’t really prepared about this whole mess too (and you take notice of his pecs adhering against the plain shirt when he rotates his shoulders a bit and you’d like to toss his damn leather jacket away only to admire all that body ). He walks in slowly, fixing his eyes on the floor, and you find yourself grabbing on to the door weak in your knees when his scent caresses your nostrils -a mixture of cologne and softener and shampoo that begs you to cling at his neck and sniff every inch of him, meticulously.
You close the door with a light clack and you take notice of the little spring he has on the spot. He tilts his head to both sides to crack his bones, a gesture you notice he often does when he’s anxious. For a very brief moment, basking in the silence settled upon you, you’ve the impression that his mind is crossed by the same doubts that tormed you up to now -pushing you to the brink of giving up (like, that you’re a bit too grown up for this bullshit; like, that it’s pretty hypocritical from you to declare how much you love being on your own only to feign that you’ve a boyfriend when the opportunity presented itself; like, that it wouldn’t be that bad if you both would change your plans and take off your trousers and jump all over each other as you hadn’t sex in a billion years).
And, talking about trousers… what. The. Fuck.
Like a magnet that pulls you inevitably into him, your eyes trail to the lower part of his body. You blink a couple of times, still unable to believe what you’re witnessing: where the fuck are the typical Jungkok-style baggy trousers?! That piece of garment can’t be called “ trousers ”... that’s a weapon of ovaries destruction! It should be declared illegal!
For the occasion (or in an attempt to kill you) Jungkook is wearing a pair of tight, synthetic leather black jeans that shrouds his long legs, accentuating the taut, well-defined curve of his buttcheeks. And you don’t need to touch that particular area to know that it is indeed taut and well-defined -just him pulling up his trousers to fix the belt is enough for the fabric to adhere against his ass like a second skin (and make your hands itch to grab him and feel the muscles flexing on your palms oh God ). 
Mouth running dry, you fight against your too-long-lust-deprived self to shift your stare somewhere safer… like his back. I mean, nothing of Jungkook’s body can be considered safe; but he’s wearing a half-sleeve thick leather jacket that makes it hard to show you his sinewy back… so, what could ever go wrong?
Everything, of course...
In the act of tucking his shirt inside his jeans, the jacket runs up along his back as if an invisible hand was pulling it up, revealing the trim and narrow waist -that wasn’t so trim and narrow when you used to hug it in an impulse of affection, after passing a difficult exam. Instinctively, your hands clench into fists, and the warmth flushing your cheekbones now spreads down below, down, right into your groin area -muscles tensing as if you had to friction your center to get rid of an annoying tingling. 
You swallow thickly. 
This… this is the first time, after meeting up again, that you picture him taking off his clothes, one garment by one, the fabric gliding over his tanned skin to reveal every inch of it. The first time that you want to lay your mouth all over him to taste the saltiness, the warmth of that unexplored body. The first time you want to ask him to pin you against the door and slick inside of you as having sex could be your only way to breath normally again.
This is the first time, after a long time, that you want to have sex with someone-no, not a generic someone. You want him. You want Jeon Jungkook.
You want him to lift you up into his toned arms and take you wherever he pleases. You want his mouth skimming throughout your whole body like a thirsty wander, lingering upon the areas that make you see the constellations behind your closed eyelids. You want him to bury his head between your legs because you believe that his lips would be magnificent upon your clit -upon your mouth, upon every fucking inch of you. You want to feel the tingling sensation of the orgasm bubbling up in your stomach, those three-four seconds of disconnection you experience when you finally reach the peak of pleasure. You want to feel the smacking sound of thrusts. 
You viscerally, desperately want Jeon Jungkook...
Shame heats up your face and makes your eyes grow bigger when Jungkook gazes at you over his shoulder, probably confused by your stillness. His stare pierces through you, and you vigorously shake your head to swipe away your erotic fantasies -which is dumb, because he doesn’t have the ability to read your mind (thank fuck).
He straightens himself, resting his arms along his sides. “I didn’t know what - what to wear,” he starts, tucking some hair behind his ear, the multiple dangling earrings along the shell of his ear swing back and forth. “You said it’s a casual party, but it’s also for their wedding? I’m not that good at choosing the right - right outfit.” He stutters, sparing himself a quick glance, hands curling around the hem of the jacket to open it a bit. “But I thought… that we need to show Seokjin that you’re sort of into me, too? And I thought you - you’d find me handsome with these clothes on. Like, that you’d see me and you’d be, like, fuck off, Seokjin, I’ve Jungkook now. ” A nervous giggle flies out his mouth, blends with the words trailing off just by the end of the sentence.
You look at his fingers twiddling with the series of rings wrapping them, hypnotized. “ God , you’re handsome, indeed.” You moisten your lips, stare engulfing into his own, wide and shiny. You brush some hair away from your scarlet face, carefully avoiding his eyes. “Ahm, it’s ok, don’t worry. Jimin has all sorts of friends, we won’t be out of place.” You notice the horrendous fuzzy socks at your feet, grunting. “Except for me… I don’t know what to wear.” You let out a sigh, clamping your thumb around the hem of your sweater.
“You look pretty like this, but I don’t think it’s going to be a pyjama party” he comments, without taking his eyes off your pantyhose. You notice the tip of his tongue running along his bottom lip, only to clamp it between his teeth -but you suspect he’s just refraining himself from laughing at you. “I bet every dress would look amazing on you, anyway.” 
“It’d take a miracle,” you mumble, genuinely convinced about your statement. You trail your stare over him, hearing a heavy sigh leaving his mouth -and for the first time, Jungkook displays a glint of frustration, as if he was really tired of the way you talk about yourself. You notice the line appearing between his knitted brows, the sharpness of his narrow eyes that makes your muscles tense all at once; but as soon as you glimpse at his parted lips, you brush past to him, impeding him to say whatever’s whirling in his mind. “Make yourself comfortable. Do you want a glass of water? A beer? I could do with a drink, actually…”
Jungkook snorts a chuckle, following you toward the living area. “No, I’m fine-oh!” his eyes get rounder and glowy at the sight of your rabbit, unfazed about your presence. “She’s June, isn’t she? Can I - can I stroke her?!” he joins his hands in front of his giant smile, resembling a child waiting for his mother to grant him a wish.
Your eyes crinkle in the corner. “Sure. Be quiet, though. She gets scared easily.” You give him a little smile when he nods, putting a foot forward slowly, carefully studying the reaction of your pet -that’s now staring at him with perked ears and nose twitching fast. 
You go back into your bedroom without witnessing the result of his challenge, kicking a pair of jeans laying on the floor amidst a pile of other clothes only to ease a bit of the nervousness that's tensing you up -it isn't really helpful. A heavy sigh flies out your mouth when you stare once again at your wardrobe, unable to pinpoint anything remotely decent. 
It sucks. Everything sucks. You suck...
And now that Jungkook nearly achieved the “ godhood ” level of beauty, you’re obliged to wear something that wouldn’t cramp his style -or that wouldn't make people say: “ How can someone like him go around with someone like her?” (a question you heard so many times it shouldn't bother you anymore, but still hits too close to home to swipe it away like it didn't hurt).
You don’t process how quickly you’re moving the hangers along the wardrobe shaft, or how loudly you're grumbling, until Jungkook’s voice wafts over from the living room. “Still at a loss? Ngh, cute …” his question fades in a sort of awestruck comment, followed by some typical curled-mouth-noises -which makes it clear that he’s been able to approach June without scaring her. “Can - can your boyfriend give you some advice?” he asks after a pause -a note of amusement butters his voice, a clear sign he's taking this gigantic issue as if it was a game.
You almost choke on your saliva -your brain still can't process the fact that, tonight, you're allowed to hold his hand and call him pet names and whisper sweet nothings into his ear. 
His voice is muffled due to the meters distance that separates the pair of you; and yet, you feel your face heating up as if he'd just give you a playful pat on your buttcheek before hugging you from behind (who knows if he still has this habit with his real lovers . He used to do it with Kyoko, and with all the other girls he had before her, his own particular way to demonstrate the affection he felt for them).
You swallow, paying attention to modulate your voice to appear absolutely unbothered by this. "S-sure!" You mentally curse at yourself for that scratch in your throat that morphed that little word into a squealing noise.
Silence settles upon you. For a little while. For a little bit too long, actually -to the point you start believing he gave up because you're a desperate case, there's really nothing that could make you radiate confidence and gorgeousness and—!
"The red dress." Then, his voice. A bit twitchy. A bit too low; dreamy , almost -as if he pictured you wearing this particular piece of garment a million times before.
You furrow, gazing over the clothes scattered all around the floor, pinpointing the one he mentioned. "The red dress?"
"Yeah, ahm… the - the one you were wearing last week, off the shoulders." There's a breathy noise, as if he was mumbling to himself. Then, his voice gets a bit higher. "I wasn't spying on you! I was on my break and I was going to buy churros and I saw you? You were - you were running outside the shop because a client forgot his flowers and you were - you were… oh God.” Words trail off mid-sentence, curling in a throaty groan that punches your heart, which is now beating feverishly in your chest. "You should try that one, mh!" 
You stay still, dizzy. You know you should pick up the dress and get ready because you're incredibly late (and you couldn't stand your friends' complaints); but your brain seems unable to send impulses to your limbs, too focused on the fact that Jungkook noticed you . I mean… There's nothing worth of notice, but the stand isn't close to your shop -which means that he was keeping his eyes set in your direction.
You shake your head, aware you're surely looking too much into this. You near the dress, rummaging through the other clothes to pick it up; once in your hands, you contemplate the flamboyant red shade, scrunching your nose.
You think that this moment isn't so different from the many you shared when you were younger -you, desperately choosing an outfit that would (vainly) help you to get noticed by your crush; and him, flawless in his worn out hoodie and baggy pants, giving you advice like a good friend would do. But when you turn to the door, Jungkook isn't resting against the doorframe, staring at you with an encouraging smile running from ear to ear. You expect him to appear on your doorstep, but his airy laughter tells you that his utmost attention is now focused on June.
You huff, approaching the door to close it, so you can finally get dressed.
After all, it can't go worse than this…
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  A few minutes later, you open the door and take a peek around, noticing that Jungkook isn't visible in your field of view. Catching a deep breath, weak in your knees, you finally open the door wider to walk into the living room -hands immediately running to the skirt to fix the folds gently caressing your thighs.
"Hey, I'm ready—" words falter and die in the back of your throat when you take notice of Jungkook -heart flaring up in a billion sparks that liquefy you from the inside for the adorable sight before your starry eyes: he's crouched down on the floor, hunched over the sofa with his chin resting on his arm, while the other hand gently rubs June's back. Curled lips, he sometimes nears the rabbit muzzle with his own face, wiggling his nose to imitate her. He inches away, though, when June suddenly jumps down her spot in a rush, hoping toward you.
“Hei, sweetheart.” Your eyes crinkle in the corner when your pet approaches your feet, sniffing. You bend over to pick her up, rubbing your nose against her muzzle. You cuddle her up in a soft embrace, catching Jungkook in the act of standing up with the corner of your eye. The smile bloomed upon your lips quivers a little before his stare, somehow darker. You swallow. "What?"
He spaces out for a couple of seconds, looking at you as if his brain was registering your question. Then, he shakes his head. "Ah, nothing… you look good." He chews on his bottom lip, jamming his hands in his trousers pockets (and your stare inevitably falls for the tiniest second upon his groin area, the shape of his dick slightly accentuated by the posture he took). "Ahm, just—"
A crimson shade colors your cheekbones. "It's a disaster, mh?" You let out a sigh, putting on the floor your pet. "I told you it'd take a miracle.”
Jungkook tilts his head to the side, poking the tip of his tongue on his cheek. "The only miracle is that someone like you is still single." His voice drops two notches deeper, face heating up for the expression of astonishment now dancing across your features. "Can - can I do something?" He scratches the back of his ear, diverting his stare.
You hesitate, mesmerized by his dark stare -still in a haze for the affirmation tumbled off his mouth a few seconds ago because, fuck , how should you interpret it?! Why doesn't a fucking manual to help you understand Jungkook exist?! 
"Sure…" you manage to say, after a brief pause, throwing him a confused 
He munches the corner of his mouth, pulling out his hands to drum his fingers on his hips. He carefully studies you from your cleavage up to your face, swallowing thickly when his gaze lingers upon the barely exposed cleft that divides your breast. A few seconds later, he breaks the space between the pair of you -the sound of his shoes tapping against the floor reverberates to you like an earthquake. A breath sticks in your throat when he halts his walk, the tip of his gym shoes grazing yours; he's so close that you can sense his body heat, his good scent, his—!
Your muscles tense all at once when his fingers skim over your scarlet cheekbones, sneaking into your hair before you could tilt your head back. You part your lips to question him about his action, but a breathy gulp is the only sound you can exhale. You're tempted to shove him away, unable to stand the proximity, but your muscles are frozen from head to toes.
His brown irises shake a bit when he makes eye contact. "Relax. I won't hurt you." It's a barely whispered hush that liquefies the tension in your body, and cuddles your heart in turmoil. His nails lightly brush upon your scalp in the attempt to gather all your hair to the back to pull it back and up, tips swinging in the air and tingling your exposed shoulders -and a shiver travel down your spine because your body craved so much for a caress. "Sorry…" he mumbles, pulling the locks a bit too hard due to a tangle.
You inhale sharply through your nose and his good scent of cologne and softener makes your legs tremble -your hands itch to grab on to him, but you refrain yourself from committing such a silly gesture, keeping them firm along your sides. His fingertips glide over your scalp and a light sigh flies out your mouth, uncontrolled -too similar to a moan to not blush, when you gradually process what you've actually done. Through your lashes, you see him moisten his lips and clamp the bottom one between his teeth, long enough for you to take a glimpse of the tiny mole laying under it.
His nose scrunches a little as he tries to fish an elastic out of his pocket, while the other hand keeps your hair up midair in a tight grip -the same that he usually uses during the day. Jungkook finally ties your hair up in a tail, trying to give a bit of volume with his fingers. He pulls out some strands now framing your face, curling it around his fingers. When he finishes his work, he inches away -and you find yourself bending over as if you had to keep him closer.
There's a moment of stillness in which he studies his creation -while you'd just want to grab his hands and put them on your face, everywhere .
Abruptly, his lips unfold in a grin brimmed with satisfaction. He takes you by the wrist (you can't help but wonder if he can feel your pounding beats) and drags you to the mirror in the hallway, situating himself behind you. "So?"
You look at your own reflection, blinking a couple of times to get used to the image you're admiring. You bend over, focusing on the makeup that emphasizes your eyes -on the way your whole face seems to glow now that your hair isn't bouncing over it. You take in the sight of yourself, scrutinizing the line of your neck, the curve of your shoulders, the collarbones adhering to the skin… you're so distracted to not register what's happening around you.
At first, there's your heart -lurching and plummeting in the pit of your stomach, laying upon a flock of whirling butterflies. Then, there's Jungkook -his arms twirled around your middle, just under your breast.
Your breath gets punched out of your body when his torso rests against your back, his chin now on your shoulder. In a burst of panic, your hands run to his arms in the attempt to escape from his embrace -but his grip is so tight and his breath is so warm you lack the courage to reject something so… rare . 
Something that doesn't often happen to women like you...
He tightens his grip a little, pulling you out of your own daze. "This hairstyle suits you a lot," he starts, his rocky voice blowing on your neck. "I… ahm, I like when you tie your hair up-I mean, I think every style suits you, but like this..." He turns, the tip of his nose sliding up your neck (and you instinctively tilt your head to the side), his mouth resting close to your ear. "You're beautiful - beautiful, (Y/N).”
A muscle twitches in your jaw when you turn to face him, risking closing the thin gap between your two with a brush of lips if he didn't inch away on time. Your shaky stare engulfs into his own, dark and somber and-and… and what? What's that glint floating in his liquid irises? What's that grin pulling up the corner of his mouth?
What's with this flirty Jungkook who seems to play a game without telling you the rules?
His light giggle pierces your astonishment and your ears. A cold sense of emptiness swallows you when he loses the grip around you, stepping back a little.
"If you freeze like this for a compliment, it'll take them a second to figure out we're faking." He spares one last glance to your reflection, chewing on his bottom lip, before nearing the front door.
And everything gets quieter, inside of you. Your heart sits back to its place, beating peacefully; breath escapes regularly, barely audible, as if your whole body felt safe and sound now that he isn't so close…
He jams his hands inside his pockets. "So, are you ready?"
You swallow. Of course, you aren't. But still, you grab your bag and check if you've recollected all your belongings before following him outside your flat, still surprised by his peacefulness.
And as you hear him hum a song under his breath, you'd like to tell him that you aren't used to receive compliments -that rarely, the men you've welcomed into your intimacy, said that you were beautiful (even Seokjin); that it's normal for you to freeze, because it's hard for your brain to metabolize it; that your heart shatters a bit at the realization that Jungkook said so only because he's pretending to be in love with you.
So, you cut every hope.
You focus only on the party, praying it could end in a heartbeat.
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 Less than ten minutes separates you from the party, and you’re absolutely not fucking ready.
The apartment buildings area where Jimin lives takes shape before your eyes before you could even start listing a series of points that could help you and Jungkook to look like two real lovebirds swallowed by the spiral of deep, scorching, overwhelming love -you know, that first phase of “ falling in love ” when you see the world through rose-colored glasses and your partner is flawless and you just want to spend your whole time (or life) with them because they smell like fate.
Your childhood friend doesn’t live far from you, only a few blocks away that you can cover by foot -but he’s still distant enough for you to use this precious time to… dunno, to connect with one another to not look like two complete strangers who are improvising to be actual lovers; and, dunno, to get on the same page over some topics that for sure will be brought up when your friends will give you the third degree. Like… shit , you didn’t even discuss basic notions like: where you two met; who confessed first; how did you start dating.
Instead, you walked in silence, minding your own business -as if you were going to a party playing the part of “friends”, ugh.
You swallow thickly, hugging yourself into your arms when a cold shiver travels down your spine. You heart quivers feverishly in your chest the moment your eyes trail to Jimin’s balcony -brimmed with flowers that you personally helped Yerim to choose when she told you she wanted to give a bit of color to her house- and smashes through your ribcage in a sort of desperate attempt to make you turn around and leave. 
And you actually do. 
You halt your walk, abruptly, slightly whirl to your right so you can go back the way you’ve come and run home and call your friends and tell them you don’t feel too well and-and watch a movie while drowning your sorrows in a bowl of fried chips; but just when you position your feet on the ground and lift your heel to give yourself enough physical boost to make such a simple movement, you notice him -Jeon Jungkook. Your partner in crime. Who’s halted his own walk too, and is now staring back at you with a puzzled expression dancing across his relaxed (way too relaxed) features.
Hands jammed in his jacket pockets, he tilts his head to the side as if in this position he should catch your train of thoughts better. “Are you ok?” he questions you, lashes flickering fast when you give him back silence -and a terrorized look.
You avoid his stare, which isn’t exactly a brilliant idea because the first thing you spot is Taehyung’s car situated in the parkplace that runs along the uphill sidewalk (well, “car” is a compliment. “ Rattletrap” would be the most appropriate term to describe that thing he persists on proudly calling “ car ”) and a mild queasiness starts brewing in your stomach.
“I feel like throwing up,” you admit, observing the little dog-pluche resting close to the back window (a toy you won during a fair but that became his property because he actually lent you the money -Tae’s logic sometimes goes beyond every human comprehension). You munch the corner of your trembling mouth, exhaling a breath that sounds more like a smothered squeak. “T-this is bullshit. We - we’ll get caught and they’ll hate me for the rest of my life and they’d have reason to be and-and—” you turn to Jungkook -an action you avoided to do for the entire duration of your blathering because you aren’t strong enough to withstand the expression of mockery surely crossing his face- but words fade in an incoherent mumbling when you realise that your gloomy predictions are just a product of your worries.
Jungkook is nothing but sheer softness, right now.
There’s a little smile dancing upon his lips, a curve of tenderness that pulls up his cheekbones slightly, and spreads to his pretty eyes now crinkling in the corner. A crescent of silent understanding; a gesture of reassurance and acceptance that makes you liquefy from the inside -so much that you suddenly don’t feel so scared anymore. But still, on the physical surface, you’re still a tremulous, frightened mess: your shoulders shake garishly, and it’s not a symptom of the chill breeze that caresses your figure; and the shudder traveling down your spine plagues your legs too, reduced to a piece of jelly by now.
You’re terrorized, and you aren’t doing anything to control this side of you and display the same peacefulness that lingers all around him.
Jungkook pulls out his hand off his pocket, lifts it mid-air and moves it forward as if he should lay a caress upon you; but the muscles in his digits tense, and he immediately takes his hand back, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear instead. “Try to relax, it’s just for a few hours,” he starts, “We can call it a night whenever you want, like, we can tell them that we had an exhausting day and we’re tired and tomorrow we'll have to wake up early.” He lets out a giggle, exhaling a strange noise -as if he were proud of the excuses he just came up with. Then, he breaks the space between you two -footfalls that reverberate to you like a bang of gongs even though Jungkook seems to float in the air, and that makes you tense like a violin chord. And when he’s finally at a few inches away from you, wrapping you with his good scent that makes you want to surrender at your own instincts and lay your head upon his chest and beg him to cuddle you into his big arms, he whispers: “Everything’s gonna be fine, (Y/N)... I promise. ”
… and it pulls you out of your own dizziness.
Because Jungkook is good at coming up with some awesome words, but lacks responsibility when it comes to practice. Considering how your “ unbreakable ” friendship drifted away like words smudging on a letter drenched with water, his promises don’t count much. 
Or, maybe, they do. You don’t know… do they?
After all, you don’t know anything about this brand-new Jungkook -the man who has a stable job and is an established tattooist, passionate and scrupulous about his work, always making sure to satisfy his clients requests; the man who notices when you finish working a bit too late than usual and comes to your shop only to ascertain that you’re doing fine; the man who cooks for himself and seems to have found his own stability in the adulthood he feared to the core; the man accepted to be your boyfriend just because your ex is building his own family and you want to shove him in the face that he wasn’t the ultimate love of your life.
Maybe, this Jungkook -whose breathe fans your face; who’s fidgeting on his spot as if he was dealing with an internal turmoil, fighting a war against himself to do something - maybe he is trustworthy.
Your stormy stare engulfs into his own, calm like a placid river, and you paralyze: your heart pleads you to shove him away, to heap all anger amassed in the past years upon him, to make him suffer in the same way he made you suffer -because you can lie to yourself how much you want, but the truth is that you haven’t forgiven him, deep down. Your brain begs you to stay, though. It begs you to give him a chance, because you gave multiple possibilities to anyone, so why should you treat him differently? It begs you to give him a chance because he changed, he turned into a person that deserves to be a part of your routine, and this new Jungkook can’t be punished for neglecting you in the past (unconsciously, furthermore). And a small voice tells you to take this night as it comes: have fun and cut ties once the time to go back home will come.
You’re so caught up in your own whirling doubts to not realize that Jungkook has moved forward, nullifying any inch of distance between you two. And then he… then he does this thing : he pats his forehead lightly against your own -an adorable gesture of reassurance he used to do only to the people he felt close with, when you were in college and you were a walking bundle of nerves for an exam or a date. And then he lets out a giggle and this weird noise you noticed he makes when he’s accomplished a difficult task, and he flashes you this effulgent smile that scrunches his whole face and that makes you smile back, in the tiniest way.
And you can feel your old self climbing up from the abyss of your body, flowing around every bone and muscle and nerve and organ, and swallowing your current-self -the woman who vocalizes her own desires with resoluteness, while doubts devore her from the inside: you’re once again the girl whose smiles turned a bit brighter for Jungkook; whose eyes shined wetly for his proximity; whose heart seemed to jump all around like a yo-yo when he let out a open-mouthed laughter for a joke you said; whose gut was fully alight when his doe-glowing eyes laid upon you a little longer, giving you the impression that he was really having a good time in your company.
For a very brief moment, you’re in love with Jeon Jungkook once again.
Or better: you remember how it feels to be in love with Jeon Jungkook -although you aren’t displaying any symptoms of it. 
Butterflies dragged themselves from the seabed of your stomach to the very pit, whirling around in a rhythmic twister; you felt light-headed; you were unable to refrain yourself from smiling big or laughing loud.
Your hands hitch. You want to punch him, and then you want to grab him by the shoulders and tell him that he’s got the prettiest eyes on Earth and that you feel like sinking in an ocean of stars and planets when you sink into their glowiness, and then pull him for a kiss. A real kiss. The same you shared on a Friday night, drunk and happy and carefree. You want to hear his moans -the same moans of that night; the same you sometimes replay in your head because their shape is planted in the folds of your brain. 
Everything, of that fucking kiss, is indelible in your memory.
But the aftermath is even more vivid. His light giggle that pierced through your ears when you actually talked about it, in the coziness of your bedroom; the absolute certainty that he did it to obviate his boredom -while you gave it an importance that could never be reciprocated. That sense of foolish jollity that skyrocketed you to the moon, only to snap you back down to the harsh reality.
And you go back to your senses.
Your old self might have loved Jungkook with every fiber of your damn being -but the humiliation and the pain… those feelings are too overwhelming to make you fall for him with so much ease.
So, you take a step backward to put a bit of distance between the pair of you, and go back to walking, headed toward Jimin’s flat. Jungkook is immediately beside you -nearer, this time, his elbow bumping into yours when he lifts his head up too much to admire the surroundings and loses his balance.
“Better?” he asks, hunching his posture as if he should peer at your expression, a single lock of hair falling over his eyes and glistening in the pale street lamplights halo.
No…
“Yes…” you swallow, a bitter taste sticks in the back of your throat. You modulate your voice, trying to simulate an external calm that collides with your internal turmoil. “You’re right, I should relax. We don’t have to stay here much. We can have a drink or two, and leave. Ahm, you choose. It’s my fault if I’m dragging you here, after all.”
“Well, I’m here because I pretended to be your boyfriend, actually,” he corrects you, voice blending in a light chuckle. 
You turn your head slightly, just the right angle that could permit you to contemplate his scrunched face -because it's a beautiful sight. And because you can't help but wonder what's his trick to be so tranquil. Seriously, only a few steps separate you to the apartment building, and Jungkook doesn’t seem particularly anxious for the game you’re about to put up in front of your friends.
Instead, you are too dominated by your toxic emotions to act so lightheartedly. With your heart flickering in your dry throat, you turn right to climb the first steps, feeling your nervousness drip from your chest and pile up into your legs in the form of cement when the muffled music floods over you -despite the four floors above your head. 
In a rush of agitation, yearning to put an end to this bullshit even before it could begin, you whirl around to run back home… only to bump against Jungkook, instead.
“Sorry, I—” you mumble, backing off a little with your head when you notice that he doesn’t seem intentioned from inching away from you. Darting quick glances at your sides, you search for an escape; but Jungkook’s imposing body functions as a wall between you and your freedom. “J-just three floors and we’re there,” you announce -mostly in a desperate attempt to fill the silence rather than really inform him. 
You take in the sight of his playful smile before turning, proceeding along the stairs with the passion of a person sentenced to death who’s crossing their personal green mile -Jungkook’s immediately behind you, humming a song.
You guide him along the external passage that leads to a series of neighboring flats, halting your walk when you finally reach Jimin’s -you fidget on your spot, while Jungkook stays still, unperturbed. The music is louder, but still muffled enough for you to not comprehend what the radio is exactly playing -the bass boosting reverberates through your chest, tossing your squealing heart. Your trembling hand nearers the doorbell, but you immediately withdraw it.
You turn to Jungkook, sinking into his wide eyes full of confusion. “Ahm, listen… how should we behave?” he blinks a couple of times, clueless about your request. “I know it’s late and we should’ve thought about it earlier, but... I mean… how does our relationship work?” You tuck some hair behind your ear, revealing the long dangling earring that swings back and forth. “We - we can’t improvise being in love and shit. ” 
Something in his expression cracks, as if your words hit a spot deep inside of him that hurts like hell. His jaw clenches and there’s a light scrunch in his nose, after which he tilts his head to the side, a couple of fingers scratching the top of it as if he was rummaging through his mind.  
Then, naturally, he says, “Can I touch you?” a vibrant flush spreads from the collar of his shirt to the tip of his ears when you arch your brows -now you’re the one completely clueless. He vigorously shakes his head, hand flapping in front of his face in the process. “No, well, like-it’s not like I want to touch - touch you.” He curses under his breath, displaying the first sign of nervousness. “It’s not - it’s not like I want to grab your ass or, like, squeeze your tits in front of everyone.” He lets out a chuckle, as if the scene of it could be comical -it isn’t; not right now, at least. “But… Can I hold your hand? Or, like, touch your hair. And put my arm around your shoulder and - and, like—” he curls his fingers, now reminiscing of duck beaks, and taps them against one another, mimicking a gesture you can’t identify. He exhales a heavy sigh (similar to a grun of frustration) when you vaguely stare at him, completely oblivious to what he’s trying to tell you. “And this. Just this, mh.” He jams his hands inside his pockets, catching a deep breath. “It’ll be a piece of cake, (Y/N). Stop worrying.” 
“How can you be so calm—” a thought crosses your mind, all your wobbling words recoiling fast. “You already did it, didn’t you? Ahm, pretending to be someone’s boyfriend.” Considering his enviable quietness, and his capacity to take this whole thing light-heartedly, your assumption is pretty logical.
But an airy laughter flies out his mouth, dispelling all your certainties -and your apprehension inflates, to the point it gets hard to breath. “No, you’re my first time .”
You gasp. “Oh, shit…”
“(Y/N)...” his fingers curl around your wrist, abruptly, slowly, obliging you to look up at him. His stare is somber and… broken , as if your mistrust was hurting him . “I won’t fuck up. I put you in this trouble, and I’m going to help you." His voice is firm, but not harsh. It's… reassuring , in a way that makes you want to lay your head on his chest and enjoy every second of this night.
If you don't do it, it's just because an explosion of laughter and music seeping through under the door reminds you what's waiting for you on the other side -and, as a consequence, it reminds you why Jungkook is holding you by the wrist.
You drag your attention back to him, the area around your eyes swelling up. His fingertips slowly slide down to graze your palm, before gliding onto your trembling fingers. Back and forth… back and forth… until it's instinctual, for you, to part your digits so they can intertwine with his own. His palm is warm; his grip is tight; his hand doesn't match with yours -but it doesn’t feel less safe. 
Without ripping his eyes off you, Jungkook pushes the doorbell while nullifying the centimeters between you two. "Relax, (Y/N)...” the tip of his nose bops yours, his breath caresses your mouth. "You're a great woman, always . It won’t be that hard to pretend to love you, tonight." His stare flickers away from yours, while pronouncing this; but you’re too astonished for his gesture to overanalyze his behaviour, or his words. His free hand shifts from his side to rest on your small back… and he pulls you closer. 
In a sort of self-protection reflex, you place your hands on his chest -which isn’t a brilliant idea, considering that your palms are now tasting the taut and well-defined lines of his pecs, oh God...
It takes you a couple of seconds to process his proximity, too busy remembering how to breathe or how to speak or how to live; but when you do, you become hyperaware of many details all at once: his thin lashes, and how they flicker like butterfly wings when he closes his eyelids; your heart pumping noticeably faster than before; your blood flowing up to your face; the imperceptible curve of his dick caged under layers of garments -too tight to conceal its shape; the tiny mole under his bottom lip; his natural lip wrinkles; the tiny mole on the left side of his nose’s bridge; your breath and how it curls in stuttered pants; the mild itchy and warm sensation between your legs.
Jungkook slightly tilts his head to the side as if he should kiss you, and your liquid eyes instantly lay upon his mouth. "Everything - everything will be alright tonight,” he says, above a whisper. “You'll show Seokjin what incredible woman he lost, and I'll be the most wonderful boyfriend you've ever had, and they’re here—"
You turn to your left, cheekbones tinged of a vibrant crimson shade for his soothing voice that seeps like honey through the cracks of your vulnerability.
Half-away from your mouth, his lips curl on your skin to lay a gentle kiss, just when the door is opening to reveal Yerim. Her shirt covered with sequins glitters in the halo of the small lantern hanging above the door, but it doesn’t shine like the radiant smile etched on her face. "Hi, (Y/N)! Welcome!" Her almond eyes, crinkled in the corners, widen up when she takes notice of Jungkook -still close to you (still with his hand holding yours). "Oh, he must be your boyfriend !"
"Hi, Yerim," you manage to say, still a little too dazed for someone who’s “ dating ” the boy beside you for quite a few weeks by now -according to the tales (well, lies) you had to tell your friends. “Ahm, yes. He's Jungkook."
He turns to your friend, delivering her a courteous smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you." He bows his head a little (still holding your hand).
"Me too!" She steps aside to let you walk in. Her stare meanders on his figure, carefully and shamelessly scrutinizing every inch of him. She arches her brows in an eloquent way before saying, “I admit I was shocked when Jiminie told me the news. I mean, (Y/N), keeping him from us for so long." A playful pout tugs at her lips, painted in a cherry shade that creates a nice contrast with the pitch-dark of her bob haircut. "We thought it was some kind of prank."
You exhale a nervous giggle, tucking some hair behind your ear. Before you could reply, though, Jungkook interjects. “Ah, I’m real, though.” Jungkook pins his gleaming eyes at you, caressing your knuckles with his thumb.
Despite the absence of annoyance in his calm voice, Yerim seems to misinterpret his affirmation, because she shakes her head. “I didn’t mean to-ahm…” she twiddles with her fingers, darting him an apologetic glance. “You caught us by surprise. You appeared out of nowhere.” She joins her hands before launching herself toward you, hugging you. “But we’re so happy for you!”
Your brain isn’t able to process her words. Actually, it registers them only when Jungkook lets go of your hand, permitting you to reciprocate the embrace. Your half-lidded eyes shift to stare directly at him, who’s witnessing the scene with a tender look. And you suddenly remember that, when the party will be over, you’ll go back home alone and boyfriend- less; but even harder, it’s the acceptance of this kind of happiness : what if you showed up alone? Why does it make you feel like a woman in a half? 
You know your friends have good intentions, and they would never make you feel less special… but you always have this gut sensation -as if you were the third-wheel, being the only single amidst long-running couples.
You gnaw on your bottom lip to keep tears at bay, caressing her back. You give her a small smile when she finally pulls herself away. “How are the preparations for the wedding going?” you change topic, mentally cursing at yourself for the little wobble in your voice.
She huffs. “I’d love to be married already counts as an answer?” she lets out a soft chuckle. “They’re going well, but I can’t wait for this whole thing to be just over. It’s quite tiring organizing everything from afar.” She makes a gesture to invite you to follow her in the living-area, already crammed with guests. “Fortunately, our parents are really helping us. But they sometimes want to… have too much to say. Like, last weekend, I fought for two hours with my mother over the centerpiece. Oh! We chose the floral ones you showed us, in the end!” She flashes you a satisfied smile, letting out that airy chuckle that made Jimin see her in a different light.
Your eyes crinkle in the corner. “Ah, great!” you gaze over your shoulder to make sure that Jungkook is immediately behind you -and in fact, he’s there, softly smiling at you before focusing on the various paintings adorning the walls (he’s always been like this, even during college parties: he didn’t care much about the general environments, or the furnitures; his utmost attention was always for the works of art scattered throughout the house. You’ve always liked that type of stare he gives to artworks (or the girls he liked, too) -shiny, enchanted. You still adore it).
After a few minutes of small-talk with Yerim, actively questioning her about her job and their new house, she leaves the pair of you alone to search for your friends, so you can all reunite. You take advantage of this short pause to turn to Jungkook and ask him if he’s doing fine, mindful of his aversion to crowded places; but from the way you now angle your head, you can take in the sight of an area that earlier was hidden from your field of view… and when you pinpoint Seokjin, words wither in the back of your throat: your ex, easily spottable for his charming figure, always impeccable dressed, is talking with a small group of people you can’t recognise. Your attention, though, is immediately caught by the woman beside him -who’s now resting her hand on her arm while letting out a chuckle, stare immediately engulfing into his own in a magnetic way that he never had with you (or, better, it wasn’t so intense).
You’ve never seen her before -only in a photograph, briefly. You don’t know her name. But you know that she is his future wife -after all, you can’t erase from your mind the woman who stole your boyfriend. And as you carefully scrutinize her slender figure; the beautiful shape of her long eyes; the harmoniosity of her features, framed by waves of hair worn in an elegant bun, you don’t struggle to understand why she put you in the shade.
And you slump. Physically, mentally. You can feel the gravity pulling all your limbs and organ down to the floor, as if you had to liquefy and morph into mush. 
The only thing that permits you to have a grain of control over yourself is Jungkook’s fingers, now gently grazing yours as if he caught your train of thoughts -and, in fact, his state is now pointed in the direction of Seokjin, who’s now giving to the pair of you a small smile in greeting.
You wave your hand, mechanically. “She must be her girlfriend,” you murmur, vaguely, “she’s so beautiful…” you comment, in a barely whispered hush that should pass unnoticed -but that Jungkook clearly hears. The light grunt flying out your mouth snaps you back down to reality and when you turn to him, puzzled, you notice a line between his knitted brows. “What?”
He keeps his eyes fixed on her, shrugging. “She’s pretty.”
“Just pretty ?” you can’t hold back your surprise. “You need a pair of functioning eyes,” you joke, giving him a light pat on his shoulder.
But ignores your amusement, darting you a somber stare that makes your stomach squirm. “My eyes work perfectly,” he affirms, eyes lingering upon your exposed collarbones. He suddenly bends over you, diverting the trajectory to rest his mouth close to your ear. “You aren’t less pretty than her, (Y/N).” 
Your muscles tense all at once, for his low words trickling upon you like honey and molasses. You can’t pinpoint what’s more surprising in this very moment -if his indifference to the so called: “ personal space ” when it comes to you; his voice dropping two notches deeper, like a melody that drags you toward him; his statement, pronounced in a way that impedes you to retort.
But even if you’d like to make him notice that, yeah, it’s true: beauty is in the eye of the beholder; but, at the same, time there are some specific canons of beauty that you objectively don’t meet (aided by the multitude of bad experiences you went through), you shut your mouth because Jungkook would never understand. Jungkook doesn’t know how it feels to hang out with some friends and being constantly ignored -to see men hitting on them, shoving you in a corner; to wash them with compliments, receiving a not-so-heartfelt: “ Yeah, you’re pretty too ”; to see people rejecting you, without giving you a tiny chance.
Jungkook, and those like him, don’t know how it feels to go back home with tears threatening to flood, see your reflection in a mirror and crave to punch it out—!
“I knew it!”
Taehyung’s sudden shriek breaks through your consciousness, dissipating your toxic thoughts. With your heart throbbing in your chest, you turn to your right to finally spot your friends, at a few meters from the pair of you -Tae’s finger pointed at you like a child would do. By his side, Hyesun waves at you, a hand on her four-months-womb; while Jimin scrutinizes Jungkook with curiosity -and skepticism.
You swallow, seeing them approach you. “Oh, shit—”
“Don’t worry,” Jungkook interrupts, his hand now resting on your small back, drawing circular patterns to help you to relax. “Everything’s going to be fine. I’m not - I’m not leaving you.”
His soothing, soft voice drowns you in an ocean of bittersweet memories. It brings back to mind the college boy Jungkook with ruffled hair and baggy hoodies, who promised you that distance would be just a physical thing before disappearing on a two-hours-flight -slowly becoming a bunch of emails (too short to fill your emptiness); then, a text of mere courtesy; then, a metallic voice that told you: “ the number you dialed has been disconnected ”... but his eyes… 
God, how can you not believe in those eyes? 
Two dark skies brimmed with galaxies and constellations and so much sincerity that smothers that malicious voice in your head that keeps polluting your lucidity, repeating that it’s all part of an act, and that he’ll leave again when he’ll find someone better than you.
“Ready?” a playful smile dances on his lips.
And you surrender to him. You push aside doubts, ignore the mild queasiness brewing in your stomach, and you smile. “Yes, ok.”
“I knew it!” Taehyung exclaims, again, giving you a light pat on your shoulder. He flaps his pointers in the air, too euphoric. “I knew it! I knew it! I. Knew. It!”
“Tae…” you sigh, wrapping in a one-harmed hug a giggling Hyesun. “What did you know?”
“I knew it was him all along!” he glances at Jungkook, now straightening himself. “I felt it could be Jungkook-ssi, I mean-it was so crystal clear he liked you!”
Hyesun gives you a kiss of greeting on your cheek, before pulling away. “What do you mean?”
Jimin’s eyes widen, as if he’s finally reconnecting all the dots. "Wait! He's the tattooist!" 
You huff, tilting your head back. "Oh, God… not again…" you turn to Jungkook, who's giving a puzzled look to your friends. "Don't listen to them—"
"Yes, it's him!" Tae exclaims, "And when we were at the studio, it was so clear you had a crush on our (Y/N)! I also told her, you know, the way you looked at her and-and, damn, I thought you were going to pierce me with your machine just because you thought we were together!" He explains, gesticulating his free hand -the other hand shakes so much that drops of drink drip from his glass. 
You curl your lips, racking your brain frantically to come up with a good topic of discussion that wouldn't see Jungkook as the main protagonist; and that's the moment where you notice that his grip has become tighter around your waist. You gaze up at him, take in the sight of his Adam's apple that drops heavily when he swallows; his clenched jaw.
For the first time since you've made your way to the party, Jungkook seems to be in difficulty .
You realize that your friends (some complete strangers) carefully scan him -curious, as if you've just brought with you a rare, exotic animal. And you realize that under that mass of muscles, and that tapestry of tattoos, and all those piercings adorning his face, there's still the boy who used to feel nervous in crowded places (and yet, he's here with you), who struggles to deal with people he doesn't know (and yet, he's here with you). So, you lean against him, and your hand runs to his bicep to cage him in a soft embrace, as if you had to protect him from the world surrounding him.
Jungkook scratches his nape. “Is it so evident?” embarrassment tinges his cheekbones of a crimson shade, and affects his question too, which flies out of his mouth in a nervous giggle.
“Of course, it was!” Tae continues, nodding. Then, he trails his gaze upon you, smirking. “You’re forgiven, but only because he’s a nice guy. And a great tattooist.”
“You’re praising him only to get a discount on your next tattoo.” Yerim jokes, grinning widely when his friend starts complaining.
“So… how did it all start?” Jimin inquiries, skeptic stare flickering from him to you.
A sudden sense of panic encrusts every muscle and nerve, your posture straightening like a deer in headlights. Waiting for your brain to come up with a believable story, your mouth stretches in a thin line, while you mentally slap yourself for coming here without preparation.
But just when you're on the verge of a mental breakdown, Jungkook's palm skims up your back in a gentle stroke, as if he was silently telling you that he's got everything under control.
And in fact, a few seconds later, he says, “A few days after Taehyung-ah’s tattoo, I asked her out,” he shrugs. “It took me a lot - a lot to find the courage, but… I've been waiting to do this for a long time .” He turns to you, smiling delicately. “It’s been the best thing I could do for myself.”
Amazed by his extraordinary capacity to go along with this farce with so much naturalness -as if he truly meant every word he’s saying, you gape at him, sinking in his doe eyes brimmed with sparks. In an attempt to divert your stare, it glides on the bridge of his nose, lingers on the tiny mole barely imperceptible -you’re tempted to reach out and kiss him as a sign of gratitude; but your conscience is alert enough to refrain you from committing something stupid. 
You stay silent for the majority of the conversation, barging in only when your friends' third degree to poor Jungkook becomes too much for him to handle it alone. Each passing minute, you can feel the muscles of the man still by your side (still with his arm twirled around your waist) relax, even though his grip on you is still tight -and possessive , like an animal protecting the other members of the herd from an enemy.
A few moments later, Jimin wraps his arms around your neck. "Should we get something to drink?" He asks, calm -but judging by the tone of his voice, it's crystal clear that it's just an excuse for the pair of you to stay alone. 
You open your mouth, ready to ask Jungkook if he wants to follow you, but Taehyung interjects before you could actually exhale a sound.
"Yes, go take a drink. Me and your boyfriend have to talk business." Taehyung flaps a hand in your direction, inviting you to leave them alone.
You arch a brow, skeptic about his request (because who knows what type of crappy idea his brain is giving birth to). Then, you turn to Jungkook. "Do you feel like staying alone? Or shall I get you something to drink?" You ask, stroking his forearm.
His lips stretch in a soft smile, his chest swelling up as he inhales a deep breath. "Yes, don't worry. I'm having fun," he reassures you, bending over you to plant a long kiss on the top of your head, after a brief moment of hesitation. "And a glass of wine will do." 
"Don't worry, (Y/N), we'll treat him well!" Hyesun sneers, turning to him. As you walk away with a wary look toward them, you hear her say, “So, you're the guy who ruined my boyfriend's beautiful body." In a dramatic tone that resembles too much the one Taehyung adopts when he has to convince you to take part in a stupid initiative. "Ah, just joking! You did a nice job."
"Just nice?! It's a masterpiece! And, in this regard, we've to discuss your next work of art." Tae pats his shoulder, starting listing a series of ideas -that make Hyesun brush a hand on her face most of the time.
Gazing over your shoulder, you keep your eyes fixed on Jungkook, feeling guilty for leaving him alone with people he isn't familiar with -but all in all, he seems calm, commenting over the pictures that your best friend is showing him; or giggling when Yerim and Hyesun team up to make fun of Tae. You distract only when Jimin puts his arm on your shoulders, guiding you through the crowd to the liquor table. 
You swallow, caught in a thick tension that you didn't feel since Middle School (when you accidentally broke his Game Boy). Cautious, you give him a sidelong glance, noticing the light scrunch in his nose. 
“Are you mad?” you ask, studying the expression of disappointment dancing across his features.
It's true, Jimin has been less pissed when he came to know about the presence of a hypothetical man in your love-life; but it's also true that your childhood friend tends to be more subtle when it comes to showing his annoyance. As a matter of fact, it didn't get unnoticed to you the way he scrutinized Jungkook during your conversation, sharpening his stare whenever the pair of you stumbled in your own words; or described the same episode with different and umatching details; or didn't reply promptly to their questions.
Geez, if you weren't the main protagonist of this absurd matter, you'd find exhilarant how the situation reversed: on a side there’s Taehyung, who spent the past days torturing you with dozens of texts made of angry or crying emoji, but who now seems to have accepted Jungkook like an old friend; on the other side, instead, Jimin is on the defensive, like he didn’t trust this stranger suddenly appeared in your dynamic, nor believes in your put-on -although he seemed genuinely enthusiastic at the prospect of meeting your “boyfriend”.
“A little…" a note of sadness colors his voice, morphed in a huff. "Why didn’t you tell us anything?” 
You munch the corner of your mouth. “I wasn’t sure it would, you know, grow .” You throw a quick glance to the liquor table, trying to see if your ex is in the vicinity -you spot him close to the window, talking with his girlfriend (it seems he’s been avoiding you, and you can only let out a sigh of relief).
“You could’ve told us anyway," he retorts, tenacious. “Keeping him from us, ugh.”
A vein pops up on your neck when you turn to him. “Told by you!” you pull away from his grip, approaching the table surrounded by guests. “You hid your story with Yerim from us for three months! We found it out just because we called you in the middle of the night and she replied by mistake!” you point out, still mindful of that day (when your friend stood you up at the last minute, without any apparent reason).
“It’s different! I mean… just a few days ago, I was calling her a bitch because she was making my life miserable, and the next day we were fucking in my car. I was justified!” he squeals, cheeks flushed for the agitation. “I wanted to tell you many times, but I could never stand your mockeries-well, Tae’s, at least.” He grunts, reaching out to grab a glass. He pours some red wine in it, handing it to you. 
You give him a little smile to thank him, looking at the burgundys ripples crashing against the glassy surface. "Hey… I'm sorry you found it out through Seokjin." You gaze up at him, busy choosing his drink. “It’s just, you know… I’m not even sure things will work out between us.” You exhale a giggle, mentally patting your own shoulder for setting already the stage of the next step (aka, the breakup).
Jimin pauses. "When I saw you together, you seemed so… strange .” His stare bores through your skin, as if he should open your skull to find out what’s going on. Then, his lips stretch in a delicate crescent that pulls up his cheeks. “Anyway, no more secrets, ok?”
You swallow, unable to utter a single word for the sense of guilt stuck in your throat is too thick to skirt around it. 
“Oh, and I’m sorry about Seokjin… I mean, he liked your works so much, but I’d never have thought he would show up at your shop.” He averts his stare, but still you caught a glint of guilt streaming into his liquid irises. “I should’ve told you about the wedding.”
You take a sip of wine, shrugging -after all, you suspected your best friends were already aware about the news. “Don’t worry, it’s ok. We aren’t together anymore, you don’t have to keep me posted on his life.” Your eyes crinkle in the corner. “But I prefer not talking about it,” you conclude, trying hard to remain unfazed.
Jimin nods, casting a glance upon his girlfriend, busy chatting with Jungkook. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t think you and your boyfriend will break up anytime soon.” He smirks, the way he emphasizes that ‘ boyfriend ’ makes you understand he still isn’t convinced; and yet, you’re perfectly aware that your heart is beating noticeably faster than before due to his subtle allusion. “The way he stares at you… as if the world seems a brighter place, now that you’re within him, you know? That type of look,” he concludes, before shifting his attention to one of the guests who’s just approached him.
It takes you a couple of seconds to metabolize his affirmation. It takes you even more to turn in Jungkook’s direction, pinpointing his figure amidst an ocean of silhouettes. And you notice that he’s gazing back at you, a small smile dancing on his lips, his hand slightly waving in your direction.
It’s crystal clear that Jimin is as delusional as Taehyung.
But Jungkook is indeed a phenomenal actor, you’ve to give him credit.
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 The party proceeds strangely pleasurably (and your decision to run away after a couple of drinks tails off between Taehyung and Hyesun’s playful bickerings; a few laughters; small-talks -and Jungkook’s fingers, which intertwines with your own, from time to time, even if there’s no real reason for the pair of you to hold hands, like his brain was following a pattern planted in its folds).
While Jimin and Yerim are busy entertaining the guests, you and Jungkook are comfortably sat on one of the sofas, chatting with Taehyung and Hyesun. Fortunately, their third degree ceased to leave room to less serious conversations that don’t oblige you two to invent from scratch your relationship -risking to blowing your cover.
Another bright spot: you and Seokjin kept each other at a safe distance, interacting only through an exchange of furtive glances and small smiles that don’t reach your eyes. However, each time your ex casts a glance upon you, Jungkook is always ready to give you a kiss on your temple (his hand meandering through your hair); or gives soft pecks on your knuckles (before intertwining his fingers with yours); or caresses your cheek while giving you a tender look (a myriad of constellations and galaxies whirling in his warm brown irises that invites you to lay your head on his chest and melt into his big arms); or he leans toward to you to whisper in your year if you’re doing fine -if you want to stay, or call it a night.
And, incredibly, you’re doing pretty well indeed -and you want to stay.
But, maybe Karma has different plans for you -reminding you that lying to your best friends is lamentable, and this action can’t be unpunished...
  Sprawled on a corner of the sofa, you put yourself into a stretched position, arching your back to ease your aching muscles due to the prolonged position. Jungkook, beside you, moves a little to give you enough space of movement, paying attention to touch you casually -like, resting a hand on your knee, or up on your thigh; little gestures done for not arousing suspicion, but that won’t make you uncomfortable either.
With his thumb drawing circular patterns on your knee, he trails his stare up to your face, cheeks red for the heat in the room and the second glass of wine still tightened in his free hand. Throughout the evening, a few rough looking tufts disentangled from his hairdo to fall gently over his forehead, while the greasy product that keeps his hair pushed back and on the side glows when hit by the lamplight at the right angle.
Taking advantage of your momentary daze (you’re channelling all your energies to not reach out and let your hand meander through his hair) he leans toward you, his mouth now laying at a few millimeters from your ear. “Things seem to be going well! No one noticed anything” he says above a whisper, exhaling a little noise he usually does when particularly excited.
You lightly pat his shoulder. “Don’t rejoice over victory, it brings bad luck.” You joke, sinking his doe eyes when he pulls away, the left corner of his mouth pulled up in a small smirk. “Would you like a drink?”
He tilts his head to boths sides, cracking the bones. “No, thanks. Want me to come with you?” his fingers lift up mid air, as if he wanted to tuck your hair behind your ear; he curls them into fist, though, resting it back on his lap.
You lightly shake your head, moving away from his soft embrace, heart throbbing into your dry throat and pumping up the heat, now spread to the tip of your ears. You brush past the guests, approaching the liquor table. You bend over, carefully checking the various beverages to search for some water. 
Before you could grab the bottle, though, a light pat on your shoulder makes you finch on your spot, squelching a screaming. Furrowing, you rest a hand on your chest to put your poor heart in turmoil at ease, then you dart a causting glance at your left to whoever almost gave you a heart attack -who is none other than Seokjin.
At a few steps from you, your ex stares at you with a smirk etched itself across his face, his hand still mid-air. 
Your muscles tense all at once for his proximity, but it consoles you the fact that he didn’t drag along his girlfriend (you wouldn’t stand her effulgent beauty all alone). “Seokjin… damn, you fool. Are you drunk?” you mumble, still with your hand on your chest because your stupid heart doesn’t seem intentioned to mellow out. You go back to watching the table, hearing his: “ Sorry, sorry ” exhaled between chuckles.
“You were so concentrated, I couldn’t miss the chance,” he says, grabbing an empty cup. “I see that you still get scared over nothing.” He jokes, pouring some Coke in his cup.
You give him a side eye, mentally cursing at him. “Did you need anything? Aside from killing me, of course.” You grab a glass to pour some water in it -you hope he doesn’t notice the slight tremble in your hand.
He hesitates, scratching the back of his nape. “Say hello, first. Ask you how you’re doing...” he starts, giving a quick glance to the sofa where your friends are spending their time. “I saw you came with your boyfriend.”
“Ah, yes… since you talked about him with the others, Jimin obliged me to take him with me,” you retort, mentally cursing at yourself for displaying your annoyance over this whole situation. You take a sip of water, too frightened to turn and see an expression of disappointment dawning on his face.
Seokjin lets out a sight, though, and your muscles relax. “That’s why I’m here. I’d like to apologize… for a lot of things, actually,” he starts, diverting his stare brimmed with guilt. “I talked about your boyfriend lightheartedly, certain that Taehyung was aware of him. But from the way he reacted, I realized that things were, well, complicated ? I should’ve minded my own business.” The left corner of his mouth quirks up in an apologetic smile, when he trails his eyes on you again. “But, most importantly… I shouldn’t have shown up at your shop, talking about my marriage… that was insensitive.” He exhales sharply through his nose, as if he just got rid of a burden. “I authorize you to punch me, if you want.” He chuckles, shoulders shaking showily in the process.
You blink, too dazed to laugh back, or give him a prompt reply. You weren’t expecting him to approach you and apologize -considering how you ignored each other’s presence throughout the entire night; but, at a more attentive look, it’s something that didn’t cross your mind either. And now that he’s here, with his heart in his hands and genuinely regretful, you don’t know how to act: if on one hand the prospect to punch him is pretty tempting, on the other you don’t want to pass for a madwoman (and risking spending your night in jail, ugh).
So, you opt for the “ quiet living ”, shaking your head. “Don’t worry,” you manage to say, snapping back down to reality. “You couldn’t know about me and Jungkook being, how can I say, a secret ?” a little giggle flies out your mouth (embroidered with a note of hysteria that makes you want to open a hole beneath your feet and sink into it). “And I’m happy for you. You know, about marriage and all.” He takes a mouthful of water, hiding from his the twitch in your nose.
Seokjin’s eyes crinkle in the corner. “Thanks… I’m happy for you, too.” He gives a little nod to his right side. “That guy… ahm, Jungkook, right? I didn’t have the chance to talk to him, but he seems like a nice person. A bit extravagant, maybe, but nice.”
Joy tugs at your lips now shaped in a smile, pulling up your flushed cheekbones. “He is… and your girlfriend seems nice, too. I understand why you want to get married, now .” Words tumble off your mouth before you could hold them back, but it’s only before Seokjin’s large stare that you register what you’ve actually said. Your eyes shake, as much as the hand now tightening the glass. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply anything, you know—” you fumble for words, unable to express out loud your regret -feeling completely stupid for disclosing so blatantly that you’re still holding to a past that should be dead and buried. 
The fact is that… on one side, you hope Jin will grab his drink and will move away, without dignifying you with a response; on the other hand, though, a little side of you would like to hear him say: “ I’m sorry ” -which is totally insane, because he can’t be blamed for the end of the love that bonded you—!
"I feel… I want to take this step with Sooyun.” Seokjin sets his eyes on you, after a long pause, delivering you a small smile -the same curve brimmed with affection that was hanging upon his lips when he left you, many years ago. "None of this is my fault, or yours… but I swear you weren’t the problem, (Y/N), it’s just—” sweetness instantly cascades upon his face when he spots Sooyun, busy watching the wedding card with Yerim. “I know Sooyun is the right one. I feel it. And-and it probably means that I wasn’t the right man for you,” he analyses, cautious, “You were- are a great woman, and I’m sure you'll find a good man who will treat you well.” He casts a glance upon Jungkook, who's laughing while watching something on Tae’s phone. "Or you've already found him.”
No, you haven't for shit .
Jungkook isn’t your boyfriend. Your relationship is just an acting planned in the heat of the moment to repair a mistake and demonstrate to Seokjin (to everyone) that you’re a wonderful woman -so unique that someone sweet and caring and lovable (truly a rare bird) like Jeon Jungkook decided to spend his time by your side, calling you " mine ". 
But the truth is that you aren't unique.  
Men don't want you. Men don’t take a fancy to you so easily. They don’t see you as a woman worth building a life together. Things go well, and shortly afterward they say goodbye -leaving you there, recollecting all the shattered pieces of your heart.
All the happiness accumulated during the night flakes apart when your shaky, liquid stare engulfs into Seokjin’s, as if reality decided to give you a sonorous slap on your face, reminding you of the harshness of your condition: you’re alone. Once the party will be over, you and Jungkook will take different paths. He’ll find a woman who will perfectly fit into his life, while you’ll polish your armor and keep everyone at a distance, protecting yourself from any kind of pain.
Seokjin scratches his nape, averting your stare. "Well, it's better if I go. I’ll see you at Jimin’s wedding, then,” he says, waving his hand. “I wish you all the best, (Y/N)."
"Yeah, you too…" You manage to say, vaguely.
Ugh, you're pathetic...
The area around your eyes swells up as you look at his retracting figure. Your breath is heavy, chest rising up and down fast. You hug your arms into a tight embrace, seeking refuge on the balcony when you feel a hiccup climbing up your throat. The chilly breeze wraps your figure the moment you step outside, and you immediately rest against the wall beside the window, a narrowing hidden enough to not be seen from the inside.
You take long sips of breath, feeling the hint of tears dampening your lashes. You brush your face with both hands, clamping your teeth on your bottom lip to not burst out crying.
You've never felt so humiliated since… o h damn , there are so many episodes. Like that time Jungkook introduced you to Kyoko, and your thundering heart brimmed with love dried out; or that time you went to the party to celebrate the ending of your high-school journey, only to see Jung Hoseok with his girlfriend; or that time you went to the disco with some of your college girlfriends and guys hit on everyone except for you; or that time your mother darted you a disappointed glance because you were the only single woman amidst a bunch of cousins and peers who were building their own family, making you feel inadequate; or—!
"Hey… (Y/N)?"
Jungkook's voice breaks through your consciousness, scattering your bitter memories around. 
A muscle twitches in your neck when you turn to him, your hands still close to your face in a sort of protection -considering that tears are threatening to roll down your cheeks. "Hey…" you can barely mumble between pants, too astonished for his presence to formulate a consistent sentence.
Jungkook curls his hands around the hem of his jacket, hesitant. "I… I saw you were talking with Seokjin and - and I was thinking: maybe you should go there and help her. But you two seemed pretty chill, so I didn't want to bother you. Then, I saw you run here and I was - I was worried." Words tumble off his tongue in a messy rush, hand flapping in the air as if it should help him to gather the right words. "Something happened?"
A light grimace cracks your surprised expression. Oh, great! Just great! Having Jungkook witness to your umpteenth mental breakdown is really the cherry on top of this awful night!
"Nothing important. I'm doing fine." You give him a small, quivering smile in a vain attempt to display an aura of peacefulness, that shatters on your trembling shoulders, though. You tight yourself in an embrace, fixing your eyes on the ground. 
"It doesn't look like you're doing fine, to me…" he swallows, placing a foot forward as if he should approach you, losing his balance when he changes his mind and stays still on his spot.
When will Jungkook go away? 
You let out a heavy sigh. "I… I just needed a bit of fresh hair." You hope your affirmation will be enough for him to ascertain that you’re doing fine, and go back to the party. However, Jungkook doesn’t seem intentioned to leave and, ugh, when will he go away?! You just want to stay alone and cry and—damn, maybe you should've run to the bathroom—!
"You can cry here, if you want,” he suddenly says, as if he perfectly read your mood -or, probably, the badly squelched (and absolutely embarrassing) hiccup you just exhaled was a clear clue. Then, he approaches you, situating himself across from you, resting against the banister. "You should - you should cry. It might help you."
You frown, shaking your head. "I don't want to. It's stupid, crying over this..."
"It's not stupid if it makes you feel sad.” He sighs. “What happened?”
You chew on your bottom lip, racking your brain frantically to search for a good excuse that could nip this conversation in the bud. But your body reacts as if it was out of your control, and words tumble off your mouth before you could hold them back. “I feel so… pathetic.” You snap your tongue. “ Pretending to have a boyfriend… what was I thinking?”
“Nobody - nobody seems to have noticed anything.” Jungkook fidgets on his spot. “Aside from Jimin-ah… I think he suspects something. He kept looking at me with eyes big like this.” He mimics two big circles with his fingers, curling his lips in a pout.
“I know… but it’s not your fault. I mean, you just appeared from nowhere, I’d be suspicious too.” You rest your head against the wall, pointing your stare up to the sky. “The fact is… I-I wanted to show to Seokjin that I’m a worthy woman, you know, sort of unique… but the truth is that he didn’t miss anything. His girlfriend is gorgeous and she probably treats him better, they’re a perfect match,” you say, in a rush, your throat hurts for your effort to not burst out crying. “And it’s pathetic, coming here with a fake boyfriend. Like-at the end of the day, I’m still… me. ” You swallow back that “alone ” that was about to fly out, feeling already too ashamed to drag him in your spiral of self-deprecation.
He pauses -you wouldn’t be very much surprised if he’d decide to leave you here with your toxic thoughts. But then, you hear him mumble, “Seokjin’s girlfriend is… pretty. Normal, I’d say . ”
You snort a chuckle. You find his delicacy quite funny, to not punch your self-esteem already reduced to a pulp. “Pretty? Did you see her?!”
“No, I was too busy gawking at you. ” A muscle twitches in your neck when you gaze up to him, parted lips and wide-eyed, genuinely staggered for the sombreness of his voice. Then, you let out a chuckle, feeling a bit of your nervousness drooling from your tensed nerves -but Jungkook doesn’t indulge in the playfulness of this very moment. He looks at you with dark eyes, as if he didn’t want to joke about this. “I thought - I thought I did something wrong,” he adds, but you can tell by the dim pinky shade tinging his cheeks that he’s refraining himself from telling you what’s really whirling into his mind.
“Oh, please… you’ve been perfect,” you admit, giving him a small smile. “You’re so perfect it’ll be hard to be on my own again, tonight.” Words escape before you could stop them, but you don’t process immediately what you’ve just spilled; it’s only after a few seconds -after a sigh escaping from his lip; after his foot laying on the floor in the attempt to near you, that you register your bullshit.
And panic claws at your throat...
“Who says you’ve to stay on your own? Tonight isn’t finished yet,” he whispers, keeping his eyes fixed into your own, large and shaky. He’s now taken a couple of steps closer and your body instinctively gravitates backward against the wall because Jungkook seems conflicted: he looks like someone who’s refraining himself from cupping your face and giving you a breath-taking kiss; but, at the same time, he’s too damn tired to refrain himself over and over from touching you.
Like a deer in the headlight, you stay still, torn about your internal turmoil arousing in the depths of you: you’re terrorized about the unknown looming large; and yet, your heart makes a crisp snapping sound in the silence of your chest in anticipation of the next move he might make. 
Jungkook seems to grasp your discomfort, though, because his lips morph in a tender smile. His hand runs to his ear as if he should tuck some hair behind it -a clear sign that he’s nervous, too. “Can I - Can I do something?” An ounce of dread notches his question; and yet, it doesn’t sound less reassuring.
It’s a whispered invitation to tell him: yes. A thousand times yes.
And you can’t refrain yourself from accepting, giving him a light nod, unable to inquire him about whatever’s happening in his mind.
The absence of a definite source of light impedes you to nail down his figure in great detail, but the light nudge of the tip of his shoes against yours, and the clear, warm pulse of his breath that gently caresses your chin makes you notice how just a thin layer of air is keeping you apart. His stare pierces through your skin in a careful study of your tensed features, his teeth clamping at the bottom lip -so hard you can clearly catch its plumpness (if possible, you rest even more against the wall, trying to become one with the bricks and cement).
Your eyes dart immediately to your left when you take notice of his trembling hand now lifted mid-air, nullifying the few millimeters between the pair of you. His fingers rest close to your face, enough for you to feel their barely imperceptible touch when they slowly glide upon your crimson cheek, generating an itchy sensation that manages to get a little giggle out of you -and you quiver from head to toes, arching your back for the shivers now travelling down your spine, your breast adhering to his chest for the tiniest second. An unruly lock, wormed out of the hairstyle, gets caught between two digits and he twists it, and he pulls it, and he curls it again, and brushes his fingertip on it before tucking it behind your ear -sketching the curve of your ear in the process.
Jungkook spaces out, hypnotized by the glistening effect produced by your dangling earrings, swinging back and forth. He snaps back down on earth only when you move a litte, the tip of your high-heels mistakenly hitting his shoe. 
Mouth slightly open, he goes back to looking at you, noticing how you’re now hugging your arms tighter around yourself. “Close your eyes, (Y/N).” His voice, two notches deeper, is breathy -it makes your stomach twist in a painful knot. “I’m not going to hurt - hurt you.”
Despite the flurry of worry that’s ecrusting every fiber of your being, your eyelids flutter down, although a dozen alarm bells are ringing in your head -as if he was a Pied Piper playing some kind of melody that makes you totally surrender to him. In a rustling anticipation of his next move, you swallow thickly, muscles tensing up all at once when you hear the soft sound of his shoe sole laying on the ground to move forward, his fingertips now grazing the fabric of your dress to sketch your sides.
Basking in an intimate warmth you haven’t felt in a long time, unable to clearly pinpoint his intentions, you suddenly become hyperaware of everything at once: his hand upon your hip; his thumb sketching your hip bone, applying a light pressure as if he should rip a hole on the fabric to reach your skin; your lips now parted, like your jaw muscles lost every strength; the muffled music and laughters coming from the flat; his fingers drawing the contour of your ear, gliding down on your cheekbone; his knuckles gently caressing your features, back and forth, as if he should get used to the time that inevitably moulded them; the scent of wine in his breath; the noise of cars and honks echoing from the street; your head following his stroke, like a cat in desperate need of cuddles; your fingers, now curling around his shirt, so hard your knuckles turn white; your heart, throbbing in every inch of you; a voice in your brain that begs you to pull away; a voice, stuck between your ribcage, that begs you to stay; Jungkook, catching a small, fluttering breath that sounds like the prelude of something bigger and that smells like trouble...
"When Yoongi offered me a job here in Seoul, I immediately thought about you…" words escape in a small mumbling, like a secret that has to remain between you two -his pointer slides down the bridge of your nose.
You frown, mindful of these same, exact admission he disclosed many days ago. “I know…” you manage to say, in the same whispering tone -you chew on your bottom lip, feeling his fingertip lingering on your cupid bow.
“No… no, you don't ," he says, firm, as if you didn't get the true meaning behind this affirmation -in the back of your closed eyelids, you can picture him shaking vigorously his head, pouty, furrowing. "I thought you’d be changed . And you are.” 
"Disappointed?" Reluctantly, you open your eyes to cast a glance upon him and study his expression; but the thick layer of sparks floating into them impedes you to clearly read his mood. 
Your heart is in balance, travelling on a thin thread that oscillates heavily in the silence now settled upon you, waiting to be jostled when he’ll say that, indeed, he is disappointed. But then, Jungkook smiles. He tilts his head to the side, lips shaped in a crescent brimmed with tenderness, and your heart plummets in the void beneath it… easing down on a flock of butterflies, hovering around.
"I'm not. You're still my (Y/N), after all..." his confession flies out in a barely whispered hush, tinged with quivering and scorching affection that liquefies every toxic feeling that made you run her to seek refuge -that made you build a wall between you and him (because he hurt you a lot in the past and who tells you he won’t do it again? You don’t want to go through the same shit again, you wouldn’t bear, this time, you wouldn’t). 
But bricks crush at your feet, and Jungkook is there, on the other side, patiently waiting for you to let him come closer.
And every tiny emotion or trauma that shaped you in the disjointed, insecure mess of a human being you are today eclipse in the blinding desire to not let this moment die here, like this, unsolved ...
Out of breath, you throw a glance to your left, guided by a small voice that keeps repeating to you to stay down to earth, that Jungkook is just following a script and he’s probably putting up this act because your friends or Seokjin are in the immediate vicinity and- but you now notice it, how nobody is watching you. It's just the two of you, alone with your whispered words and your trembling hands, caught up in something that, seen from outside, could be mistaken for an embrace. 
So... why is Jungkook treating you so... lovingly ?
Is he pitying you? Like… maybe the awareness that you haven’t had a decent relationship since your love story with Seokjin ended moved his consciousness and he’s… he’s trying to be gentle. It’s his innate gentleness, that’s giving him the strength to touch you like a lover would do; to wash you with trembling, sheepish words meant to stay on this balcony, when everything will be over; to—!
A warm, soft touch dispels all your doubts. Jungkook has rested the back of his hand on your face, skimming it over your skin in a stroke that makes goosebump rise even on your nape for its intensity. Turned back to him, you sink in his doe eyes still fixed on yours, and lose a hundred heartbeats on his smile bloomed in sweetness.
And it happens. Naturally. Like answering the call of your instinct.
You disconnect from yourself, painfully aware that a moment like this (with him. With any other man) won’t happen again. Your eyelids close, your hands cling at his waist, and you dart forward, placing a fleeting, imperceptible feather-like kiss on his lips -a little mouth-centered; a little too rushed to actually enjoy their flavour.
Jungkook tilts his head back in a quick gesture that makes you crack your eyes open, worried about his dismayed reaction. His stare is wide, shaky, glistening of a thick astonishment you can’t interpret, but that seems to tell you that he’s now back on earth again and no, no, you got it all wrong . And in the seconds that elapse upon you, stretching to infinity, you feel being swallowed into a spiral of shame that punches the breath out of you. You should pull your hands away from his waist, but your fingers are gripping tight at the fabric of his shirt; you should divert your stare, but his brown irises are too intense and dark to look away; you should apologize and run away but your entire body is crippled up.
You feel tremendously naive for indulging in a fantasy in which Jeon Jungkook craves for a kiss, a touch, a hug from you ...
And when he gazes down, you realize you’ve fucked up big time. The area around your eyes swell up, your lips tremble when you part them, and words climb up your throat and curl and morph into a scratchy hiccup that you immediately swallow back, already too devastated to add another point in your “ ZING! moments ” list (you know, those episodes oozing abashment that you racked up throughout your life, and that come back to surface when you least expect it, making you desire to crawl out of your own skin and change identity).
With tears shining in your eyes, you turn your head, biting the corner of your mouth to refrain yourself from bursting out crying indecorously. “I-I’m sorry,” you manage to say, in a high-pitch tone that makes you mentally slap at yourself. “I don’t know what I was—” your trembling words falter for Jungkook’s hand now resting on your crimson cheek to maneuver you so you can stare back at him, and they wither into nothingness when his mouth finds home on your own.
Considering the masculinity he exudes from his skull to his toes, you’d expect him to pin you against the wall and kiss you roughly -those types of kisses that take your breath away and make the ground beneath your feet crumble. But Jungkook is far from coarse. There’s no tongue begging for an entrance. There are no teeth biting the flesh full of nerves. It’s just his lips pressed against your lips, as if he was giving you the possibility to pull him away.
But you don’t.
You only pull back slightly to take a small sip of breath, only to break the space between the pair of you again with long pecks. Jungkook shifts his hand from your hip onto your neck, while the other still lays on your cheek, thumb resting close to the corner of your mouth to keep your head fixed in this position. He tilts his head a little to take your bottom lip between his teeth, sucking it gently, and you lift your head up to focus on his upper lip, the tip of your tongue softly hooking under the bottom -in a way that makes him moan. 
Seconds fly bye like this, lip on lip, without none of you willing to pull away first.
Jungkook inhales sharply through his nose, parting with a smack sound. “Can’t believe— you— ” he mumbles, directly against your mouth. “Can’t believe I’m here ,” he says, vaguely, like he waited a long time for this very moment to happen… like… when you believe that your dreams are meant to be a mere fantasy unfolding in your mind and then they become real and you can only witness with sheer surprise, struggling to contemplate the magnificence of it (in a burst of sudden lucidity, you realise that you’re probably-no, for sure , you’re reading too much into it).
Jungkook stays still, waiting for a follow-up that doesn’t come, and when your eyelids flicker down in a slow motion, he bends over, shifting his hand from your neck to your small back, pulling you closer -in a desperate need of a contact. The half-chub of his dick pressured in those tight jeans is now perceptible, and your hands itch in a way that makes you want to slide them down his stomach to lay upon his crotch, enjoying once more of the marvellous sound of his moans. And they do, actually. Your fingers uncurl from his shirt, now crumpled in the exact point you gripped tight, and slide down, resting on his belt -his stomach muscles flex under your touch.
A little whine escapes from his mouth, now slightly open, and you move your head to find the right angle, parting your lips too, and when the tip of his tongue finally grazes yours, you liquefy. Honey and molasses run through your veins, you’re boneless into his big arms, goosebump dances on your skin for the wet sound wrapping you in a bubble...
But then, for a very brief moment, there’s college Jungkook in your arms. In an empty corridor with blinking, soft lights. Shaped in soft giggles and weird noises of excitement and whispered words you made sure to write down on your mental notebook. Warm hands sketching your body in a random meandering. Your leg twirled around his waist, his bulge pressed against your center. Wet sounds of tongues exploring each other’s mouth in a frenzy desire. His damp hair framing his face notched with blemish that don’t intact his natural beauty.
Then, there’s Jungkook, laying on your bed, with his ruffled hair and plump lips shiny with saliva and stuttered breath and doe eyes full of stars and a sleepy smile, telling you that he wants to spend his whole night with you , kissing. Then, there’s Jungkook, waking up, bleary eyes darting all over the place, caught up in a bad hangover, rummaging through his mind to understand what he was doing in your bedroom, with you-!
Your body backs off in an instinctive rush of self-preservation, before your brain could actually disentangle itself from that ball of memories and let you make your own decisions. A stabbing pain in your chest, in an area you can’t exactly pinpoint, makes your legs shake.
His eyes waver for the tiniest second for the abrupt interruption, a kind of sad flickering thing that makes you want to hug him and cuddle him and fill to the brim that sense of emptiness you probably left with your gesture.
He looks down at you from his lashes. “You - you okay?” his voice is small, his breath stutters when you don’t reply. Jungkook rests his forehead against your temple -his hand still on your cheek, on your small back, as if moving away would mean losing this moment (you) forever. “Sorry, (Y/N). I should - I should’ve asked if it was ok, if you - if you wanted to kiss - kiss me too. I really - really wanted to kiss you, like, the whole time , but maybe you didn’t - didn’t—” words tumble off faster, curling in a stuttering mess that makes him look… devastated . Rejected.  
It’s painful, the way he seems to regret what happened -not because he considers it a mistake, but because you didn’t like his initiative, from his perspective.
You turn your head slightly, the tip of your nose bumping against his own, but Jungkook doesn’t inch away. He stays still in this position, round-eyed, inhaling and exhaling deep only from his nose, shoulders shaking for the effort to hold himself from… doing something irreparable . 
“(Y/N)? You ok?”
No, you aren’t. You should tell him that he broke your heart, with that kiss stolen at a party, many years ago. That the aftermath has been a punch to the dazzling hope that you two could become more than friends. That his words, tumbled off in a slur, made you cry for an entire afternoon when he finally went back to his dorm. That you shouldn’t be acting all lovey-dovey when your friends aren’t even here, witnessing how much you two love each other to the core. That this wasn’t in the plan and you didn’t even expect for things to arrive at this point when he proposed to be your boyfriend for one night and-and then, pause.
Your mind quietens down, and the present-you thinks… you realize that it was different, the way he kissed you tonight. 
Jungkook is, somehow.  
This kiss perfectly describes Jungkook’s nature: simple, gentle; but electrifying enough to make you forget about those problems that seem to be insurmountable. 
And you surrender, again, because you almost forgot how it feels to be touched and looked like this.
You gaze up, brushing your lips against his own. “It’s ok. I am,” you whisper, your hand resting on his bicep. A smile etches itself on your face when he gives a soft peck close to the corner of your mouth. His lips curl in butterfly-kisses laying on the same spot, gliding down only when you seem to relax in his arms.
Following the wet trails now imprinted on your jawline, you tilt your head to the opposite side, giving him a better angle. A sigh flies out your mouth when he’s finally there, pressing a myriad of open-mouthed kisses down the column of your neck, shivers travelling down your spine for the delicious, contrasting feeling of wet and heat on your skin. He nips at the meat, insistent, but still careful enough to not hurt you, pressing the flat of his tongue on the spot where the print of his teeth has been left. 
You’d like to spread your legs and wait for his thigh to sneak just between them, creating a warm friction against your center, using it as a sustain; or twirl your leg around his waist, feeling his cock brush against you in rhythmic thrusts. But a spurt of lucidity is all it’s left to remind you that you’re still on Jimin’s balcony. That, as much as the idea of having an orgasm thanks to Jeon Jungkook is quite appealing (especially after a bunch of years without experiencing it), you’re still not prone to ave sex in public places…
The only thing you can do is to wrap your arms around his shoulders, hearing him exhale a sort of noise -the one you noticed he makes when he’s particularly happy over something. Teeth clamp at your bottom lip when he glides up, slowly, his mouth now finding home under your earlobe. And you can feel them, the words, gathered in a beg to go away from here and hide on the backseat of his car, or in your bedroom, but they vanish in a light moan when they’re finally flickering in the air. “Jungkook—”
“Shit, (Y/N), get a room!” Taehyung’s voice, playful and loud, breaks through your consciousness. You press your palms on Jungkook’s shoulders, pushing him away a little -which is completely useless, because the man keeps bending over you like gravity didn’t exist. 
“Sorry for disturbing you, but we wanted you to greet you before heading home,” Hyesun adds, throwing you a regretful look. “A very early rising is waiting for us… unfortunately,” she mumbles, fixing her jacket around her shoulders.
“Do you also work on the weekend?” Jungkook asks, unbothered by the interruption.
Taehyung grunts. “We're having lunch with my parents.” 
Jungkook giggles. “You don’t look enthusiastic.”
“We are,” Hyesun intervenes, casting a glance upon her womb. “But, you know, our parents want to interfere a bit too much when it comes to the baby.” She caresses her tummy, gently. “Like, choosing the name, the color of the bedroom… I still don’t get why they’re against apple green. It’s such a bright, funny color!”
“Ah, congratulations, anyway! I mean, for the baby-ahm-” Jungkook scratches his temple. “Do you - do you know the sex of the baby already?”
“Not yet, we want it to be a surprise!”
Your (fake) boyfriend and your friends keep chatting quietly, but you don’t participate in the conversation at all. Your mind is still fixed to a few seconds ago -when Jungkook’s mouth was on your neck and his hands were on your face and moans were threatening to tumble off your parted lip and your walls were contracting against nothing and you could feel your heartbeat in your curled toes.
You feel like you’ve just been punched out of a dream, and it’s now hard to deal with reality...
Tae slams his hands along his sides. “So… Can I come for that tattoo, then?”
Jungkook wraps you more into a hug, his hand now resting on the back of your head to lay it against his chest -you don’t oppose, you’re a hug-enthusiast, after all (and it’s so nice to melt in his big arms). “Whenever you want. Come to the studio, Chaerin will squeeze you in for sure.” His tattooed hand caresses your nape, your eyelids flicker down for the tiredness. "Unfortunately, I don't think it'd be any time soon, though. I'm busy for the next few months." He sighs, visibly exhausted.
You exchange the last greetings before your friends decide to leave the pair of you alone (reminder: punching Taehyung for listing a series of love-hotels nearby, complete with reviews. But, considering he managed to get an airy chuckle out of Jungkook that skyrocketed you directly on Heaven, maybe only a slap will do). You stare at their retracting figures, wondering if they suspect your relationship might be an orchestration; you don’t have enough time to formulate your doubt out loud that Jungkook plants a long kiss on the top of your head, keeping you close to him.
“You… you want to go home too, my sweet love ?” he asks, above a whisper, a melody that makes you gaze up at him. 
And when you finally lift your head up, sinking in his eyes that reminds you of the Milky way, heart throbbing in your throat because you’ll never get used to that sweet nickname (told by him; told to you), you’ve the sensation Jungkook wants to push this night a little further -that the idea to accompany you to the front door and leave you kills him.
You catch a breath.
What harm can it do to let him in for a few minutes?
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venusiangguk · a month ago
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the art of doubting | jjk (m)
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>>pairing: jungkook x reader / dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc
>>genre: friends with benefits, smut, a lil bit of fluff, angst
>>word count: 17k -.-
>>warnings: dom jk, sub oc, age gap, dilf jk stuff: asking for permission, saying thank you, sexual tension, gross domestic flirting 🙄, push up kisses, orgasms, oc getting overwhelmed bc jock is too gewd <3, oral (m), rimming !!, mirror sex, one (1) spank, jreampie <3, tummy bulging (kinda? he presses on her tum to feel it?), praise, dirty talk, encouragement, showering together, kisses 😚, ex wife has arrived, mentions of divorce, a lil bit of sad talk about nari :(, nari is two now!!, misunderstandings, arguments, jk lowkey got some issues he needs to work thru lol, he thinks in extremes, oc is in love </3, a very drastic 180 occurs
>>notes: ex wife arrives and literally makes everything explode lmao
this is part of my dilf jk series that can be found on my masterlist
>>summary: seeds of doubt are planted and unfortunately they grow faster than love. things with jk fall apart.
Soft grunting groans filter through the air as you slowly make your way down the stairs to the lower floor. Not really a basement, more of an indoor workout cave.
Jeongguk’s shirtless on the bench, pulling weighted arms down on the machine, the muscles in his back rippling and straining with every pull down. He sees you in the mirror as soon as you walk in, his eyes lighting up and a small winded laugh puffs from his chest.
“Hey— hang on… almost— done…”
You shift on your feet a little, watching him through the reflection. The sight you see is a little too obscene to just be a work out, you feel like. He’s not sweaty yet, probably just started, but his face is a little red from the excretion, and his lats are on display as he does the repetitive workout over and over with clenched teeth and breathy grunts until his body gives out. He catches his breath for a moment, shakes his arms out.
“You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked,” you say, tiptoeing over to him and stepping over the plastic baby weight on the mat. “Also why do you do so many at once… looks miserable.”
Jeongguk laughs softly, looks up at you with his doe-eyes when you’re close enough to rest a hand on his shoulder. He’s warm to the touch.
“I usually don’t but I’m the only one here, and I knew it was you coming. Also my phone is charging upstairs so if you texted when you got here like normally, I would not have known.” he explains. “I tend to focus more on longer sets with lighter weights, than shorter sets with heavier weights because it helps keep muscles lean… I’m not trying to bulk up right now.”
You tell him that that makes sense even though you really have no clue. Just know that whatever he does to stay fit works. “Nari at her mom’s?” you ask.
He nods, standing up to go over to the pull up bar on the side of the machine. Wiping his hands on the tiny workout shorts he’s wearing, he jumps a little, and then wiggles his fingers on the bar to get a good grip. “All yours till Friday,” he says, cutely.
Rolling your eyes playfully, you correct him. “Till tomorrow afternoon. I have work… might get a raise soon.”
You wander around a little as Jeongguk goes on about how you should already be getting paid more considering you have a college degree, but you tune him out, knowing he’s trying to be on your side and make you feel better. A marketing degree won't get you far in a grocery aisle, and you both know that, but it’s sweet of him to try.
Instead, you opt to take in your surroundings. You’ve been all around his house of course, but you’ve not spent much time in the workout dungeon.
It’s fully equipped, and fully mirrored, with the flooring being that of wrestling mats to cushion dropped weights or baby stumbles.
On one side of the room there’s an elliptical, a treadmill, a rowing machine, a bench press, basically one of everything that you would normally see in a gym. But on the other side, blocked off by a baby safety gate, is a mini little workout zone filled with mini weights, those foam blocks that you normally find in a child’s gymnastics zone, and a little dance bar along the mirrored wall.
You smile, thinking about Nari holding onto the bar and doing that funny little squatting move of hers. “Are you going to put her in dance?”
He looks at you through the mirror, no longer doing pull ups, but just watching it seems. Seated on one of the benches with a water bottle in his hand, resting between his spread legs. “Ballet I think,” he says, “Me and her mom were talking about it. She thinks it’ll be good for Nari’s coordination…” He gives you a humorously exasperated look, “I just think she’ll look cute in a tutu. Though I suppose coordination would be helpful… she’s a bit clumsy.”
“She is only 2,” you point out, walking over to his side of the room again. “Was the party fun?”
It was on Saturday, just a few days ago. Jeongguk said it was fairy themed much like most of the baby’s things. You saw the pictures that he sent you, Nari adorned in a pair of tiny pink wings, her cake in the shape of a mushroom. The kids all got tiny bottles of ‘pixie dust’ to play with, shimmery bubbles floating through the air.
There was a woman in one of the pictures, blowing a bubble into Nari’s delighted face, her own smile matching that of the baby. She obviously wasn’t the focus of the photo, and you doubt that Jeongguk even realized when he sent it. But you already knew who the woman was anyway. The pictures around Jeongguk’s house were enough to tell you, even if he never explicitly stated it. And you know it makes sense and that it’s normal for her to be there, with Jeongguk at their daughter's birthday, but something settled into the pit of your belly when you looked at that picture. You haven’t been able to shake it yet.
Jeongguk’s voice brings you back. “Yeah it was fun, you got the pictures right?” He seems excited. You laugh a little, reminding that yes, you did see. You responded to them after all. He grins sheepishly as he goes to another machine, “Don’t be sassy, or I’ll eat the piece of cake we saved you.”
His sentence warms your heart. The fact that he was thinking about you, keeping you in mind. Reminds you of the bittersweet message you received from him on Saturday while he was at the party.
Wish you could have come
It took some effort, and you’ve done your best to not think about the fact that you could have, if he had asked you to. Saturday was your day off.
“What flavor is it?”
“Funfetti, obviously.” Jeongguk rolls his eyes, grunts quietly as he does another rep.
“Obviously,” you mime, with a small chuckle.
Conversation flows smoothly, just like always, everything seamless between you both. While most people wouldn’t probably get annoyed at someone hovering, Jeongguk seems happy to be near you, glad for the company. You sit beside him as he gets to the ground for some push ups.
He gets about three in before you’re laying flat on your back, boredom making a thought pop into your head.
“Do them over me.”
Jeongguk falters mid-way up, glancing at you with a suspicious look. “Why?”
“I wanna help,” you reason.
“Not sure being on top of you will be helpful,” he murmurs, but appeases you nonetheless, side walking on his hands and the balls of his feet until he’s over you.
You both give each other closed lip smiles as you try not to laugh. Jeongguk lowers himself, and you sneakily place a sweet kiss on his cheek.
“I knew you didn’t want to be helpful,” he says, his voice laced with faux annoyance. He does another one and receives another kiss. “You want to be distracting.”
“I’m not being distracting, I’m providing incentive.”
“I can’t even go all the way down, your tits are in the way.”
“You are so ungrateful.”
He smiles with his eyes as he goes down again, his nose brushing yours as he nuzzles into your cheek briefly. “And how are you providing incentive?”
You hum at the feel of his warm breath on your ear. “The longer you hold your plank, the longer you get to kiss me.”
“Who says I wanna kiss you?” he teases, voice soft as a feather as he does another push up.
“You always want to kiss me,” you tell him, just as quiet, tension radiating off of you as you readjust yourself, your legs opening so that the next time he drops down, he’s not just over you, but between your thighs as well. “And you haven’t yet…” you remind him as you drag your acrylics over his bare back, smiling at the way he shudders and at the way his arms buckle.
He grins, looking at you like you’re unbelievable, yet everything he wants right now. “Between you and Nari, I can never get anything done.”
You hum, “I just think you need to reevaluate your priorities, maybe.”
“And what do you think my priorities should be, __?” he whispers, eyes searching your face, lingering on your lips, a fond look coloring his features.
“Well, right now,” you start, looping your arms around his neck, “I think you should really focus on that plank, and on that kiss you’re dying to give me.”
Your teeth click before your lips lock because of how much you both are smiling.
But once lips lock, it doesn’t take much for Jeongguk to collapse onto you. Doesn’t even try to hold the plank, instead just melding his body to yours, the inside of your legs clamping around his waist. He goes from having his hands flat on the mat to bracing himself on his forearms, his knees hitting the mat between your legs. You use some of your weight to bring him closer, the slowly swelling front of his work out shorts pressing into the crotch of your leggings.
You work your hips, rolling them slowly up into him, in time with the slow, molten kisses he licks into your mouth.
Jeongguk’s always easy for you, but today he seems to be fighting himself, playfully fighting how bad he wants you. It’s the principle of the thing. To prove a point. The point being that you’re distracting, his weakness. His hips rolling into yours, only to pull back. He lips pressing hard against yours, only to pull back. Just for him to do it over again, just for him to give in like you both know he wants to and will. It's after a particularly hard rut against you that he peels his lips from yours, panting softly, how worked up he is so apparent in the way he can’t stop his hips.
“You’re going to kill me,” he whispers, his nose brushing against your cheek before he sinks his teeth into the apple of it like he just can’t help it, can’t get enough of you.
Your manicured hands cup his cheeks, as you nod and guide him back into a wet kiss. “Want you in my mouth,” you moan against his lips.
Jeongguk pulls back with a light blush on his cheeks. “Are you sure? I was just working out–”
A kiss cuts him off as you slowly start to sit up, him going with you. “Barely broke a sweat, and I don’t care,” you tell him, hands gripping at the elastic of his waistband, “just want you.”
Jeongguk laughs softly, grabs your eager hands, maneuvering to his feet and pulling you with him. It’s then that he strips you of your shirt, your bra. His hands come to cup your bare tits, rolling them in his palms as he brings his lips back to you, all while he toes off his shoes, as well as his socks with a little difficulty and stumbling, but not without sweet laughter filtering in through the kisses.
He makes his way down as he pushes your pants down, his lips latching to a nipple, making you mewl under the light flicks and the soft sucks, hands coming to his hair to keep your balance as you rid yourself from the stretchy material. His hair gets pulled when you’re free, and he’s biting his lip at the tugging when he blinks his eyes open to look at you again.
“Sit on the bench,” you tell him, hand slipping from his locks, and down to his flushed chest. You press lightly, backing him up to the benchpress machine that’s not too far behind him.
The bench is propped up, a reclined sitting position under the secured bar above, resembling more of a chair than the typical flat board of most bench presses.
He gingerly sits down, keeps his eyes on you the whole time, watching as you lower yourself to your knees, settling between his open ones. His cock is hard and pink, up and laying flat on his lower tummy. It pulses when you place your hand on his thighs, long nails running down.
You both smile a little because its funny in a stupid way, but your pussy pulses too, getting slick between you legs at the way Jeongguk responds to you. How eager he is for you, how the mere feel of your hands on his thighs is enough to make him throb in anticipation of what else is going to come, of how good you’re going to make him feel.
“Wanna make you feel good,” you say quietly. Your gaze flicking between his face and the flushed, shiny head of his cock in your hand.
He bites his lip when you slowly start to work your hand on him, his foreskin sliding over the wet tip of his cock, and when you rub the pad of your thumb on the under part of the head, you watch as his head tilts back, his eyes slipping shut, and his mouth exhaling a soft sigh. You squeeze your thighs together at the sight. Jeongguk is so responsive, pliant as he settles into the bench, hot and heavy in your hand.
“Put your mouth on it,” Jeongguk requests, eyes lazily shut.
When you oblige, Jeongguk sucks in a sharp breath, his back arching a little off of the bench behind him, his hips pulling back like the feel of your lips suckling on him is too much, too good.
You pull off with a little pop, holding his cock close smiling against his length. “Why are you trying to get away from me?”
Jeongguk gives you a crooked grin, looking down his nose at you with hazy eyes. “Keep going,” he says softly.
Humming against his length you begin to place heavy, wet kisses down his cock all the way to his balls. The kind where your tongue licks him before your lips suction softly. Then you lick all the way back up with the flat of your tongue, your lips wrapping around him, your head bobbing a few shallow times. Jeongguk keeps breathing those sweet, soft moans. So relaxed and relishing in the way you suck him off. He’s not pulling away anymore, instead trying to keep from bucking into your mouth, you can tell by the way his lower belly tenses.
When you go down a little farther, sucking his balls into your mouth, you moan at the way he whines, at the way his legs subconsciously open wider as you alternate between lapping at him, and teasing him with light circles from the tip of your tongue. He breathes praise, telling you how good it feels. It makes you want to make him feel even better.
His legs spreading wide for you gives you the idea to trail a little farther down, stray off the path of your usual blowjobs. You start with your fingers, something he’s used to and loves. Massaging that spot behind his balls with deliberate little pets, you moan softly when he pulls his legs back just slightly, barely lifting his feet off the ground so you can touch him better.
His brows are pinched, and his mouth is open in a silent moan, his expression one of pleasure and arousal as he brings his hand down to his cock. He slowly tugs at himself, watching as you bring your mouth back to his balls. He’s nodding, eager and encouraging, his hand speeding up.
“You’re–,” he moans, his head rolling back along with his eyes, “My baby.”
Laughing a little you pull back, focusing on just massaging him. He seems extra responsive today, his praise and sentences jumbled and hardly coherent.
“Keep licking,” he moans.
You hum, going to appease him but right before you suck his balls into your mouth you pause. He notices, brings his eyes to you with a questioning, needy gaze, his hand still working over his cock.
You place a chaste kiss to his balls and then one a little lower. Jeongguk jolts, and questions you with a gaze, but he doesn't stop you.
In all honesty, you don't know what you’re doing, have no clue why you even want to, but the desire to make Jeongguk feel good and curiosity spurs you on. He likes your fingers, maybe he’ll like your mouth there too.
Your eyes hold a question in them as you gently, wordlessly push his legs back some more, more of him on display than you’ve ever seen before. Jeongguk grows a little red, but his hand hasn’t stopped, and he just pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, watching you as you kiss on the backs of his thighs.
He’s tense, like he’s just waiting for you to do it. With your breath hot on his taint, you look at him once more, and he gives the slightest nod, permission to continue. His eyes are heavy and he licks over his red bitten lips, and when you press another one of your chaste kisses against him, his brows furrow and his mouth parts and he cranes forward, like he wants it so bad, is so eager that he can't contain it.
The first lick over him makes him gasp, and he breathes the most salacious, “Yeah–” as his legs get pulled back even more.
You smile at him with your tongue out, giving tentative licks to that spot he loves. Your hands are on his cheeks and you pull back some, looking at him with a grin.
Jeongguk groans, a laugh coloring it as his head falls back to the bench kind of like he’s a little bashful about being so worked up. His free hand pushes through his hair before rubbing over his face, eyes finally meeting yours again. “You’re so hot down there,” he tells you.
You purr, pressing your thumbs into his cheeks opening him up a little more. A quick wet lick is placed over his hole and he breathes out a harsh sigh, craning his neck so he can look at you, his tummy tensed.
“Is this what you want?” you murmur against him, getting a little more confident, the tip of your tongue flicking over the cinched muscle.
“Yeah, fuck…” he whispers.
The hand he has on his cock squeezes at the base for a second before he makes a ring with his thumb and index finger focusing on the tip of his cock with quick little strokes. The hand he doesn’t have busy pulls his thigh back a bit more.
As your tongue works over him, he chants over and over again, tells you how hot you look, how good your mouth feels, how wants you to keep going. It’s when you point your tongue a little, just barely pressing into his rim that his hand goes to the back of your head.
He holds your face to his ass, pushes you into him as he melts into the chair, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths that lilt up at the end.
“Good girl,” Jeongguk moans, his eyes blinking open hazily as he looks down at you again.
Your eyes smiles at him as you continue to work your tongue, little wet noises willing the air as you eat him out. When he removes his hand, you lick from his hole to his balls, repeating the action a few times, making Jeongguk almost tremble.
“Your dirty girl?” you ask him quietly in response to the praise he just gave you, giving him tiny little kitten licks over his hole.
He gives you a lustdrunk smile, licking over his lips. “Yeah, all mine.”
“What do you want?” you kiss into his taint, eyes big as you look up at him.
“Just a little more,” he whispers, his thumb spreading the precum leaking from his tip.
You get a hold of the hand on his pulled back thighs, guide it back to the back of your head once again. “Take it then,” you tell him, “take more from me.”
Jeongguk lets out a shaky breath, biting his lip as he pushes your mouth back to his hole. “Look so hot licking my ass,” he breathes, barely audible over the wet licks you’re giving him. He kinda shakes your head, his brows furrowed and his jaw clenched as he sucks a breath through his teeth. “Oh my god–”
When you point your tongue and press past the little resistance, Jeongguk’s mouth drops open and his brows arch upwards, and his eyes roll a little before he squeezes them shut, pushing and pulling on your head just barely, making your tongue fuck him.
It's kind of abrupt when he pulls you back by the hair, his legs coming down again. It’s abrupt when he kisses you. Deep, his tongue licking into your mouth like he doesn't care that you were just licking into him, making him pant, making his cock leak. It’s abrupt when he breaks the kiss. He’s still close, breathing you in, giving you one last soft little peck before he leans back again, his demeanor expectant.
Both of his hands are on your head, and he’s guiding you down, taking what he wants from you just like you told him to. His cock is so hard, flushed and angry looking as it stands, just waiting for your mouth.
It's a swift and quick motion when he pushes your head down, the tip hitting the back of your throat almost immediately. He whines softly, and rocks his hips up while pulling you down onto him, glucking noises filling the air as he fills your mouth.
His length and girth are a lot to take, your eyes prickling with tears as he holds your head down, but when you hear him whisper, so desperately, “Love when you choke on my cock,” it’s so worth it.
He sounds so unabashedly fucked out, like your mouth is the best thing he’s ever felt, like it's the only thing he ever wants to feel for the rest of his life. He’s being a little rougher with you, a little more crude with his words like he’s losing himself in you, losing his control. It makes you moan around him, wanton and needy.
His hips start to fuck up into you mouth again, his hands holding your head in place, keeping you from pulling away. He knows you wouldn’t have, always so well behaved, almost obedient in the way that you please him. But, even so, he just likes having his hands on you, likes feeling the way you struggle to take him.
“That’s a good girl…” he groans, soft and focused, his hips snapping up again. “You’re such a good girl…”
He holds you down once more, shakes your head by the hair so that his tip rubs against your throat, and then he’s pulling you up, kissing you filthily again, not even giving you time to properly catch your breath.
“Get against the mirror,” he says against your lips.
The heat from your hands makes the glass under your hands fog up, and the heat from Jeongguk behind you makes you flush, the heaviness of his cock rutting against the swell of your ass as he wastes no time getting into position.
At the first feel of his tip rubbing between your folds, grazing over your clit, you gasp and your arms buckle. Your legs spread naturally, but Jeongguk makes a tutting noise, and rests one palm on the outside of your hips, the other between your shoulder blades applying light pressure.
“Keep them together, but bend a little– yeah, perfect,” he breathes.
He takes a step back, looks at your ass pushed out for him, your puffy pussy peeking out from between your legs with your clit tucked inside. You’re drippy, shiny and smooth, your slick leaking out, making it sound lewd and wet when he pushes inside.
Your head hangs at the first thrust, Jeongguk pushing in slow but with a steady motion, and you exhale a soft puff.
He keeps his hips against your ass, his cock sheathed by your pussy. His hands grabbing and squeezing, roaming over your body while he waits just a bit for you to get used to him inside of you. Then he’s pulling out, just the tip of his cock still tucked inside, before he fucks into you hard and fast. It knocks the breath out of you, makes your hands on the mirror slip a little.
“F-fuck,” you whisper, your head still hanging, eyes squeezed shut as he fills you up.
Jeongguk’s eyes go from watching his cock slide into you, to the mirror. He moans, the contrast of his tattooed arm on your bare back as he rocks his hips into you is so pretty, just like the way that your shoulder blades push out, how your tiny waist feathers out to the swell of your hips. The fatty part of your hips ripples and pillows against him everytime he thrusts, dull slaps echoing with the whiny moans he punches out of you with his cock.
“Look baby,” he tells you.
It takes a little bit of effort, but when you lift your head, you’re met with a disheveled, messy version of yourself. There’s tears in your eyes, the feel of Jeongguk’s fat cock pushing and pulling in and out of you is overwhelmingly good, his girth rubbing against the sensitive walls of your cunt. Your makeup is messy, your under eyes dark with smudged mascara, the coverage around your mouth and on your nose completely gone, your lips kissed swollen and red.
Eyes moving to Jeongguk behind you through the mirror, you see the way he’s watching you watch him. Watching as your expression changes, how your eyes flutter when he hits that spot inside of you that makes your knees lock, makes your breath stutter and your brows furrow in pleasure.
“There,” you breathe, “God, you make me feel so good, baby.” Your hands slip down the mirror again, the force of his thrusts and the pleasure that’s curling in your belly already making it hard to hold yourself up. You squeeze your eyes shut to keep the tears from spilling over.
Jeongguk picks up the pace of his hips, his hands gripping yours, his thumbs digging into the little dimples at the bottom of your back, a perfect match, like they were placed there just for him. It’s almost like your body was meant for him, crafted with him in mind, fitting together so flawlessly that it’s hard for him to remember there were people before you, people that made him feel good before you did. Because when he’s inside of you, when he’s with you, it’s like that’s all there is. Just an endless loop of you and him, you and him, no beginning or end, no past or future, like the world is only as big as the room you’re in.
“Faster– getting close...”
Your voice echoes in his ears, and he realizes that his thrusts slowed while he got lost in thought. He clears his throat, gets back to work, back to fucking you like he means it, it’s the last time he ever will.
“You always cum so fast when I fuck you like this,” Jeongguk muses, biting his lip when he sees the way your tits jiggle in the mirror.
He expects you to be snarky, make a comment about how he’s smug, too cocky, but instead you nod your head, hands forming fists against the mirror. It’s airy and sexy when you say, “Yeah, you fuck me the best, love your cock… wanna cum for you…”
And it reminds him of the first time he fucked you. How you said more or less the same thing.
“Yeah, wanna fuck you all the time. Love your fat cock…”
That was 6 months ago. It’s not that long but it is at the same time. It feels like only a few seconds and a lifetime in the same breath. Jeongguk feels something stir in his belly, something mix with the steady build up.
“Yeah?” he asks, his voice soft and dreamy– almost fond, juxtaposing the way he’s fucking you. “What do you say?”
You wait a few moments for your body to get there, your head falling again like it's getting hard to support yourself. You’re chanting softly; pornographic ‘yeah’s’ and lewd mewls spilling from your lips nonstop.
“Fuck…” you start, “can I… can I cum?”
It sounds like it's hard for you to form words, so it's a little mean of Jeongguk to spring something new on you. But he can’t help himself.
“Who are you asking?”
A confused sound that turns to a moan at the tailend colors the air.
“I…”
“Who am I, baby? What should you call me when I’m fucking you like this?” Jeongguk asks, patient and gentle.
You say the first thing that pops into your head.
“Daddy?”
A sharp slap echoes in the room, and you’re sure there’s a red palm print on your ass. You cry out, whiny as Jeongguk leans over you, his voice in your ear.
“You know better than that,” he says, a little out of breath, but still stern. “Try again. Be polite.”
At this point you’re so close that you’re crying softly, your knees turning inward as you squeeze your legs together as if that will keep your orgasm at bay until he says you can cum. You try to listen to his words, connect the dots and finally it comes to you.
“Sir–” you gasp, “Sir, can I cum?”
Jeongguk groans a little, feels his cock jerk inside of you, the title making that hot feeling burn within him.
“Yes,” he moans, “Look at yourself while you do, want you to see how pretty you look when you cum just from my cock.”
Hardly able to keep yourself up at all, even with the help of the mirror, you tell him in a whiny voice that you can’t, that it’s too hard.
You hear him coo before your world spins a little bit, Jeongguk wrapping an arm around your tummy, pulling you to his chest. His body is burning behind you, and his breath is hot in your ear as he pants, his hips punching into you from behind. The arm that he doesn't have wrapped around your torso comes up, forearm resting between your tits, fingers getting a hold of your jaw making you look straight ahead.
The sight looking back at you is indecent. So filthy that you and Jeongguk both falter, a soft moan echoing in unison.
“Look at you,” Jeongguk purrs.
“Please,” you cry, simply because you don't know what else to say, overtaken with pleasure.
“I already said you could cum, baby,” he reminds you.
And it's like it's all too much and not enough at the same time. Like the push and pull of his cock into your cunt is too good yet exactly what you need, like his hands on you are overstimulating but without them you wouldn’t feel that safety, that feeling of being adored and taken care of. Like his voice in your ear encouraging you is too nice but if he stopped talking to you you wouldn’t know wouldn’t know what to do, that it’s okay.
“Jeongguk,” you cry. Like actually cry. No longer able to hold in the tiny, overwhelmed sobs.
He presses into the side of your head, kisses you as well as he can when he’s jackhammering his hips into your cunt. He shushes you, and his hold on your jaw softens, his other hand petting over your front soothingly. “I know, baby, I know,” he coos.
And it just makes you cry harder. “I can’t– It’s– it’s too much–”
“Yes you can,” he whispers hotly, his eyes on you in the mirror. “You can do it, be good, cum for me…”
He uses the hand he has on your front to press you back into him, closer if that were even possible, but with the slight pressure on your lower belly he feels something.
The moan that falls from his lips is so shameless and lewd. It’s not loud, but more of a soft, wondrous keen.
His cock thrusting into you can be felt with the light push into your belly, and it unlocks something in him. He grabs one of your hands that’s clutching at his forearm and brings it down, his own hand on top of yours pushing so you can feel his cock inside of you too.
“Feel that?” he asks, nipping at your ear lightly, “So hard for you, so deep that you can feel me through your belly... Let go for me, baby, wanna feel you cum on my cock while I can feel myself inside you from the outside.”
Maybe it’s feeling him from the outside, or maybe it's the way he always manages to keep that soft, gentle way with you no matter what. Even if he gets worked up, losing himself a bit– he never leaves you, never becomes too harsh or rough. He’s always the perfect mix of both, and that’s what makes the pleasure that’s been ebbing in you wash over your body.
You tremble in his arms and soft, desperate whimpers get exhaled as you cum. No warning, but Jeongguk knows, feels the way you contract around him as he slows his hips a little, giving you longer, unhurried thrusts. He lets you bathe in it, the dreamy, dizzying high that makes you delirious as you thank him with teary words.
“That’s my girl, so good for me all the time… knew you could do it,” he says, his hips gradually starting to pick up again, his thrusts sloppy.
Vision is a little blurry when you blink your eyes, but the sight of Jeongguk wrapped around you, his face in your neck biting and moaning into your skin–
“Please cum inside of me,” you beg.
“Yeah, gonna–” he tells you, his teeth sinking into that spot between your shoulder and neck. You gasp when he sucks, knowing that there will be a mark, and you bring your hand up to his hair, keeping him close.
Jeongguk switches from those harsh sucks and bites to sweet kisses up your neck to your jaw. His fingers on your face urge you to look over your shoulder, and the distance between your lips and his is too small, too tempting for him to not take it.
He kisses you, desperate just like his thrusts are becoming until he's right at the crest.
“Gonna cum,” he pants against your lips, his hand on your tummy still pushing to feel himself.
You nod, still looking at him behind you, placing soft kisses on his lips at first and then wherever you can reach until he succumbs to the pleasure, his eyes closing and his head lulling back a little before he’s pressing into your sweaty hair, like he wants to hide yet stay close to you. He cums with a gasp, cock buried deep, throbbing with every shot of white that paints you from the inside.
As soon as he catches his breath, he kisses you.
He kisses you again and again and again.
~~~
There’s something so intimate… so vulnerable about letting someone wash you.
When there’s no ulterior motives laced with sex or lust. Just gentle touches, pure in the way they take their time with lathering up even the simple, boring parts of your body. Paying special mind to your hands, your calves. Behind your ears, your shoulders.
Jeongguk’s touching you like you’re sunshine.
Like he’s savoring the warmth of your body under his fingertips even though it's too hot in the shower.
He’s touching you like you’re the perfect day, one so perfect that he’s scared it will pass by before he can enjoy it.
He’s touching you with so much care and attention and it feels so good that it’s blissful. It feels so– it feels like when you’re a little kid and you return to the comfort of your home after a long day, to the familiarness of your bed, to everything that makes you feel safe.
It feels like your favorite memory. The one you keep adding onto because the details have gotten fuzzy, but you clutch onto it because it's too precious to let go of.
It feels like a–
It feels like–
Jeongguk takes his time with you.
It feels so good that it’s almost overwhelming in a way that you’ve never experienced before. It feels so good that tears sting behind your eyelids, so different from the tears you shed earlier.
He delicately untangles your hair, gets out all the knots he put in it. He cups your face, gently rubbing the pads of his thumbs under your eyes, getting the makeup off as best he can. He’s careful when he’s suds up your body, mindful of the light blossoms that he planted into your skin. The violet on your neck pulses under the care, a bloom that’s pretty, a bloom that aches, a bloom that feels good.
He’s adoring, he’s soft, he’s bliss.
When his lips kiss your cheek, it's almost platonic, simply because it lacks desire. It sounds bad, embarrassing maybe, that he’s not desiring your naked body in front of him, but it’s not– it’s something new and it's so incredibly wholesome. His kisses are so sweet, so pure, so innocent and just an expression of caring rather than wanting that it makes you want him in a way that scares you.
After the final rinse, you kiss his cheek. Hope and yearn that he can feel half of what he made you feel. You hope he knows what you mean when you say quietly, “Thank you.”
~~~
“Wear this one, you look good in white.”
Jeongguk has a fluffy grey towel tied around his hips, lingering water droplets disappearing when they trek far enough down his torso. And you’re scrunching your hair in a matching towel, warm from the heated towel rack. The atmosphere in his bedroom is warm too, soft and comfortable, sweet like a cup of hot tea.
He’s got one of his white shirts scrunched in his hands, ready to dress you. Quiet laughter putters from your lips as you reach your hands up and into the arm holes as he pulls the neck hole over your head. When you pop out Jeongguk is close enough for you to kiss him, so you do.
“We’ve kissed so much today,” he says thoughtfully, turning and digging in his drawers. Instead of taking care of himself, he finds a pair of your lounge shorts that you left here.
“I know, how gross,” you say with playful disgust in your tone, as you take that and step into the shorts. Panties are unnecessary apparently, since he doesn’t hand you one of the stray pairs you know are in his dresser.
He hums walking into the bathroom. “It’s nice, I like kissing you.”
You roll your eyes following him. Hopping onto the counter you watch as he does his skincare. “We already had sex, no need to butter me up, sir.”
The corners of his mouth turn up just barely as he tries not to smile, hardly glancing at you as he dabs his moisturizer in.
“I like it when you’re around,” he says simply.
Heat rushes to your face, and your heart beats loud in your ears and something feels so different.  
So of course you just change the subject.
“I’m so glad we ordered food before the shower.” You place a hand on your belly, “I’m so hungry.”
“Hopefully you clicked the right stuff, since you were, you know, a little distracted… seeing as we were kissing… so much… because I like to kiss you...”
“Do you want a kiss right now? Is that why you’re being annoying?”
He makes an offended expression before immediately going back to his normal face, tinted with faux nonchalance. He shrugs his tattooed shoulder, tapping the cream in. “I wouldn’t object to a kiss or two…”
And so he gets a kiss or two or three, soft, giddy little pecks.
He pulls away, and just looks at you for a few seconds, doe-eyes dancing across your features before falling and lingering on the lovebite he left that’s peeking out. The neck of his shirt is too big, hanging loose. His hand comes up and he fingers at the material like he’s thinking of straightening the shirt out for you.
He doesn’t, instead bringing the hand to your jaw, making you tilt your head, looking up at him.
“You’re so pretty,” he says, his thumb gliding on the apple of your cheek.
Your eyes fall shut, content. A lazy smile laces your words when you say, “Thanks.”
Cute kissy noises ring in your ears until they don’t, the doorbell taking their place.
You pull away so fast that Jeongguk is almost insulted. Jumping from the counter you squeal about the food, tapping his toweled butt on the way out of the bathroom, telling him to hurry up and get dressed as you rummage through your purse for your wallet.
“Wait I’ll pay,” he says, finally dropping his towel and snagging a pair of briefs.
“It’s okay!” you call over your shoulder, speed walking to his front door.
The walk from Jeongguk’s bedroom isn’t too long, but your thoughts are fast, running a mile a minute. The thought of how good today has been, how easy it is to be with him. How whenever you’re with him you find that your cheeks hurt when you go home, laughter constant, and smiles ever present. You think about how warm his home is, how warm he is, how being with him is a comfort that you’ve come to crave.
The smile that is on your face is unconscious, the remnants of the soft emotions swirling in your chest, feeling like you’ve finally pinpointed what's so different about today.
When you open the door, that lingering smile falls and that hazy feeling evaporates.
In front of you is not a delivery guy.
It’s the woman from the pictures. The framed one in the hallway, the one on top of Nari’s dresser, the one in the photo albums Jeongguk let you browse through when you wanted to see his daughter as a newborn. It’s the same woman that was in the picture he sent you.
And your heart drops when you take her in. You knew she was pretty, but the pictures don’t even scratch the surface. Even when her features are pulled in perturbed confusion, she’s beautiful. She’s put together, long dark hair styled and sleek, make up done minimally but elegantly, her parted lips a sheer coral. Her straight, dark brows are furrowed causing a slight wrinkle between them. It looks out of place, an imperfection that doesn’t belong.
Her sharp eyes scan you, both of you just kind of standing there in the doorway, taking the other in. They go from your wet hair, to your face, down to where Jeongguk’s shirt hangs loosely off your shoulder. Her gaze hardens as she lingers there for just a moment, before directing dark eyes back at you.
It feels like it’s been hours, that you both have been there, but in reality it's not even a minute. She looks like she’s going to say something, but the impatient baby in the woman’s arms makes herself known.
At the high pitched squeal that Nari lets out, you snap out of it, plastering a smile on your face. The little one is smiling, clearly excited to see you, her doe-eyes curling and getting mini puffs under them. When she leans away from her mom, arms reaching out towards you, it’s instinct when you go to take her from her mom.
“Hi! Sorry Gguk’s in–” You falter, arms raised halfway, when Nari gets pulled out of reach.
The woman doesn’t go as far as taking a step away from you, but she turns at the waist kind of putting herself and some distance between you and her baby. As you let your hands fall in timid, jerky movements, you look between the two in front of you, and Nari’s doing the same, a cute confused expression on her face like she doesn’t know why she wasn’t allowed to play with you.
And it’s not like you blame Nari’s mom. It’s very apparent that she has no clue who you are. If anything you think it’s good that her mom is protective enough to not just hand Nari over to someone she doesn’t know. It makes sense, but it stings.
“Ba?” Nari babbles, to her mom.
The woman’s cold gaze breaks at the sound of her daughter's voice, and morphs into one of quiet love as she directs her eyes to the baby, giving her a soft smile. She bounces Nari a little on her hip, and Nari giggles. When they are looking at each other, their profile resemblance is striking. Of course Nari’s features are still baby soft, but it's obvious that they have the same nose. Small, slightly upturned. The same lips too; plump with the upper lip almost rounded.
“Who is this, Riri?” she asks her baby playfully, her eyes finding you again at the tailend of her sentence.
She’s smiling, but her eyes are stony, guarded, as she looks at you expectantly.
“I’m __– I’m a uh… a friend of Jeongguk’s?”
Her eyes narrow for a fraction of a second when you say ‘friend’ and the coolness she’s emitting is enough for you to call for Jeongguk for your shoulder, needing the comfort of him. The woman in front of you is intimidating in a way you don’t think you could ever achieve. It’s something about the way she carries herself, so collected and aloof, like she’s mastered the art of keeping it together.
And you’re not scared of her, not really. But what are you supposed to do in this situation other than call for Jeongguk?
At the thought of him, you hear his voice come from behind you and when you turn, you see him walking out of his room, bottom half clothed in dark joggers, his top half bare as he clumsily pulls a shirt over his head.
“Do you need cash for the ti–” When his wet head of hair pops out of the neck hole, and he sees not one girl in front of him, but three, his voice cuts out, and he slows as he takes in the scene before him. You see how his chest expands as he takes a deep breath, like he’s preparing himself before quickening his pace.
Nari starts to kick in her mom’s hold when she sees her dad approaching, excited little gasps puffing out of her.
“Hi, little flower,” Jeongguk coos, smiling wide as he brings his hand up, tickling Nari’s neck, making the baby squirm and curl in on herself as she bubbles out a giggle. “Dasom,” he says as a greeting to his ex-wife, as takes his place next to you, his hand settling on your lower back for just a moment, like he’s letting you know he’s there.
Dasom lets the corners of her lips turn up slightly as she says, “Jeongguk.”
“What are you doing here?” he asks. You can tell he’s trying to keep his voice neutral.
“Something came up at work. I have to go to the headquarters a few cities over for a few days,” Nari grabs at the dainty necklace she’s wearing, and Dasom gently untangles her little fingers, offering her her wrist instead. A heavier, more sturdy piece of jewelry keeps Nari busy. “I texted you hours ago letting you know I was on my way.”
“I was busy. I didn’t have my phone on me,” he explains.
Dasom looks between you both. The freshly washed hair on both your heads, the mark on your neck. The too-big, white shirt you have on that’s clearly not yours. “I can see that,” she replies coolly.
And suddenly you feel so out of place, so uncomfortable. Standing between two people who used to share the home you’re surrounded by. Two people who share the sweet baby girl that’s content babbling to herself. Two people who were married, who were in love, who have so much history together. You know it’s mildly absurd, because they’re divorced, but you feel like you’re intruding, like you’re doing something wrong.
You’re just about to excuse yourself when Jeongguk sighs, runs a frustrated hand through his hair, reaching out and taking Nari from her mom. “__, can you take Nari and wait for me in the playroom?”
“Daaa,” she peeps happily in her dad’s big arms, as he hands her off to you.
“Kook–” Dasom says, uneasiness lacing her tone.
“She’s fine Dasom, she’s been with __ many times,” Jeongguk says with a finality to his tone.
Dasom says her goodbyes to Nari, a tense silence falling over the house as you walk away with the baby. It’s not till Dasom thinks you’re far enough away that she speaks up.
“Who is that, Jeongguk?”
Jeongguk shuts his eyes roughly when he hears a hint of confused hurt in her voice. He can tell she’s trying to mask it, but he’s known her for a long time. Remembers clearly what it sounds like, memories of all the painful talks preceding the divorce edging on his conscience.
“She’s a friend,” he sighs.
“How old are your friends these days?” Dasom questions, confusion turning to judgement– obvious in her tone and her stance, her arms crossing over her torso.
Jeongguk hangs his head and scrubs his hands over his face. “How was Nari?” he asks, trying to change the subject.
His ex has different plans. “How old is she?”
He looks up at her sharp tone, a surprised color to his features. He looks over his shoulder towards the playroom before he turns back to her, a soft incredulous scoff leaving his lips. “She’s old enough, and I’m not doing this with you. So if you don’t have any updates–” His hand is on the door in the process of inching it closed when Dasom interrupts him.
“You know,” she starts, “I never thought I’d have to worry about this with you. Thought you’d be able to keep your personal and parenting lives separate.”
And she knows exactly which buttons of his to push; of course she does. She was married to him for years, knew him better than anyone else at one point in time. She knows that insinuating that he is a lacking parent, that he doesn’t always put their daughter first, will irk him enough to pull a reaction out of him.
It’s purposefully done– vindictiveness an ugly side of his ex that doesn’t come out of her often, only when she’s hurt and wants to hurt back. Or at least it didn’t happen often. It’s been over a year, and people change.
“Are you sure you want to debate which of us has trouble separating and balancing things when you’re the one dropping our daughter off in the middle of your week with her, to go to work?” he asks, his tone icy. He knows her well too. Knows it’s the same insinuations that hurt him, that cut her as well.
Anger colors Dasom’s features as she takes a step closer to Jeongguk, her head tilted a little as she looks up at him. “I do it for her. To provide for her. You know that,” she spits, “And I keep my lovers away from her while I’m at it.”
Jeongguk laughs, like he can’t believe he’s having this conversation. “I’m sure you do, Dasom,” he pauses, debating on whether to add what he’s thinking. “And for the record, I don’t have ‘lovers’. I’m only seeing one person.”
“And are you planning on committing to her? Making it long term?”
Caught off guard doesn’t even really begin to cover the whiplash-like feeling that Jeongguk experiences when he hears the question.
He hesitates, flounders a little. He cares about you, likes you so, so much. And he’s not stupid– he knows that he feels something for you that’s vastly different from what he’s felt for the others before you but– you’re young. So young, with your whole life ahead of you. Meanwhile, he has his life already booked for the next 16 years, at least. He’s never really let himself think about things long term, because it just doesn’t seem realistic. Asking you to commit to not only him, but a two year old as well? It seems selfish to ask that of you, like an unintentional trap that steals your freedom. He can’t ask for that. He won’t.
“I…”
Dasom looks disillusioned, like she really did expect better from Jeongguk. “I didn’t think so. You’re not even dating her... She’s your ‘friend’?” she asks.
Jeongguk just looks at her with pursed lips and pinched brows.
“And when you’re not ‘friends’ anymore, Kook?” she asks again, “Are you just going to bring another ‘friend’into Nari’s life for her to get attached to just for them to leave again? And what about when she’s older? Do you want her thinking that’s what women do? Come and go?”
Dasom’s words are exaggerated and extreme– she doesn't know the circumstances between you and him, doesn’t know that it was Nari that introduced you to one another, so waiting to introduce you and his daughter wasn’t an option. And it’s not like Jeongguk is ever going to have a legion of women filtering through his home.
But the point is made all the same.
“No, of course I don’t want that,” he says defeated, as he tilts his head back for a moment, letting his eyes shut.
“Yeah, me either,” she says. Her voice lacks the judgment it held at the beginning of the conversion, being replaced by blasé melancholy. “So I hope she gets it out of your system. Please drop Nari off next Friday, just like always.”
Turning on her heel, Dasom makes to leave before she stops abruptly. She takes a deep breath with her head tilted back, before she’s looking down, like she’s tired. Like the fight with Jeongguk took a lot of her. She pulls a folder from her bag, turning back around and presenting it to Jeongguk.
“For Ri’s speech…” she says softly, “I took her to another speech pathologist yesterday. This one said try doing signs during meals. ‘All done’. ‘More’...” Dasom does the signs haphazardly waving her hands about. “Doctor said it...” She takes a deep breath, and laughs halfheartedly, and Jeongguk can see how she’s tearing up. “Well, like all the other doctor’s we’ve taken her to, they said it may help.”
Her eyes are glassy when she looks at him, and Jeongguk’s heart aches because he knows exactly how she feels.
The anxiety and constant worry you feel over your child’s well-being is one of the hardest things to navigate because you have to keep it together and not let yourself get defeated. You have to come to terms with the fact that sometimes there’s things that, as a parent, you can’t fix, and that sometimes you can do everything right and still have things go wrong– things that may never be able to go right.
He knows that there is an unexplainable guilt, that there’s always that little voice in the back of your head that tells you that maybe if you had done this, then that wouldn’t have happened. It’s a horribly helpless feeling, wanting nothing more than to make things better for your child, and not being able to.
“She’s fine you know,” he says softly, “she’s just taking her time.”
Dasom tries to nod, but she breaks. Her hands come up to cover her quivering chin and quiet her soft cries. She buries her face in her palms as her shoulders tremble.
“Hey, hey,” Jeongguk whispers, reaching out and pulling her to his chest. Her hands are still covering her face, so his arms circle around her as a whole and he rests his chin on her head and lets her cry, his own eyes stinging.
It’s only a minute or two that Dasom weeps against his chest. She’s then pulling away with a deep breath, blowing it out in that soothing way trying to calm herself, trying to regulate her breathing. She laughs, airy like she’s embarrassed, as she taps under her eyes, trying to save her makeup as best she can.
“Ah… sorry about that,” she says, “Haven’t cried in a while so that was bound to happen sometime soon.”
Jeongguk laughs quietly before he muses, “She can say juice now.”
Dasom rolls her eyes playfully. “Yeah… Joofs.”
They both laugh together, for a moment, a few moments, until it tapers off naturally. Leaving soft wistful smiles on their faces.
“Drive safe, Som-ie.”
~~~
“Yeah… Joofs.”
The laughter that echoes from Jeongguk’s foyer feels like a punch in the gut after everything that you’ve heard. All the things you felt earlier seem stupid and childish in hindsight.  
And yeah, you don’t blame Jeongguk for staying quiet when Dasom asked if he wanted to commit to you because that’s not something you guys have even touched on, but when he stayed silent as she went on about you just being his ‘friend’? Alluding to you just being a lay for him, just something he needs to ‘get out of his system’? Something disposable and unimportant?
You had at least expected him to defend you.
To tell her that while you may not be his girlfriend, you are important to him. More than a quick lay, more than just a young girl he needs to fuck out of his system. Because you know that’s exactly what she thinks you are. And what she thinks doesn't matter, not really, but if that’s what Jeongguk thinks?
Part of you knows that there’s no way that Jeongguk thinks that. That if he did, this thing between you both would have fizzled out by now or at least been harder to deal with. But that’s never been the case. It’s always been good with him, easy.
If he thought that way, he wouldn’t have been so worried in the beginning and would have instead jumped at the chance to get into your pants. You weren’t exactly subtle back then– there were plenty of opportunities for him to come onto you. But it literally took you throwing yourself at him for him to give in.
So like you know. You know, you know, you know in your heart that it’s not true, that he doesn’t think that little of you.
But his silence was enough to plant a seed of doubt, enough to break a little bit of trust. More than enough to hurt you.
“Naaa.”
You look down at Nari, and she reaches her hands up wanting to be held. A soft, pitiful laugh falls from your lips and you bend to pick her up.
“Sorry, wasn’t playing with you was I?”
Nari looks at you, studies you with those big eyes of hers. She pats at your cheek, a little roughly, but you can tell she’s trying to be gentle. Her little hand goes from patting to petting, almost like she’s trying to soothe you, like she can tell you’re upset.
“Buu?” she asks.
In reality you have no idea what she’s saying. But it feels like she’s asking if you’re okay, and just like if an adult were to ask you that when you’re close to losing it, close to breaking– it makes you cry.
Not the embarrassing type of cry, but just a tiny cry in front of the sweetest, tiny human. Your eyes just tear up, and your chin trembles a little bit as you try to muster up a small smile, but when you blink a couple tears spill over.
Nari gasps. “Nuuu!” she tells you, before she’s wrapping her tiny bread arms around your neck, clutching onto you like she’s trying to squeeze out all of the sad.
It makes you let out a watery laugh, and you squeeze back, enough so that she croaks a little like a frog. When you pull back she’s giggling in that pure baby way that probably has healing powers or something.
“You are so smart,” you tell her, sniffing a little, trying to get yourself together. You’re not sure if Dasom left yet, or how much longer it will be before Jeongguk comes back, and you don’t want him to know you were crying, or eavesdropping.
She tilts her head at you, then leans in with her lips pulled between her teeth making them pop out when they are against your cheek, a tiny ‘maa’ sounding with her smooch.
“That’s a new type of kiss,” you tell her.
“Sol-mi, Yoongi and Jimin’s daughter, taught her at the party.”
Whipping around at the sound of his voice, you turn and see Jeongguk leaning against the doorway with two glasses of wine in his hands and a sippy cup tucked into his arm. He gives you a soft smile, and you smile back because that’s the only thing you know how to do when you’re with him. Instinctive.
“Hi,” you say.
“Hi,” he says back.
“DAAADAAA!” Nari screeches.
You pull back, wincing for your ear drum, as you let Nari down with an endeared laugh. She toddles over to her dad, tugging on his joggers.
“Hi my babygirl,” he says. Then laughs when she tugs particularly hard, “Hey– you’re gonna pull Daddy’s pants down, quit it.”
“Joofs,” she says, grabby hands reaching for the sippy cup she spotted.
“I see how it is,” he says, handing you your glass and then grabbing the juice, “Didn’t even miss me?”
He manages to sit down without his hands and without squishing his daughter, and you follow suit, watching the daddy-daughter moment unfold, quietly sipping on your wine. Trying your best to push everything else out of your mind, trying to get that almost... safe, warm feeling back. The one that you always get when you’re with Jeongguk. It’s been missing since he came into the room.
“Give Daddy a kiss and then you can have your juice,” he angles his cheek to her and then adds on, “Also say please.” like it’s an afterthought.
You shake your head, smiling, and Jeongguk flicks his eyes to you, mirroring your expression.
“Peeb,” she spouts before she gives him a very quick, rather half-assed kiss. She doesn’t even do the ‘maa’. Her hands open out in front of her, expectant and ready for her drink.
Jeongguk tuts at her, but hands the juice over. “You’re rotten, missy.”
Nari says nothing, just waddles so she's standing in front of him with her back to his face. She plops herself right in his lap, his criss-crossed legs making a perfect Nari-shaped seat. Sipping away with her drink in one hand, her other comes down to Jeongguk’s tattooed arm that he wrapped around her belly. Tracing them with her pudgy little fingers, she tries her best to look down while simultaneously keeping her drink in the proper position.
It’s quiet for a bit, just Nari’s soft drinking noises. You take the moment to get up and grab something from your stuff in Jeongguk’s room, before returning. As you’re walking past Jeongguk back to your spot across from him, you feel his hand tug at the one you have dangling by your side.
You look at him, a small questioning noise sounding.
He pulls, making you bend at the waist getting closer to his level, and when he tilts his head back to look up at you, his eyes flicker to your lips and then he licks his and then he’s craning his neck and then he’s kissing you softly.
It’s fleeting but it's sweet. It makes the warm feeling settle in your heart again, just for a moment before it hides away, somewhere within you. Your eyes dart to Nari. Kisses usually being reserved for alone time.
He shakes his head. “It’s alright… Sorry that happened while you were here… Me and Dasom usually communicate better than that.”
You take a seat next to him and Nari, careful of his wine glass. “It’s okay…”
Gazes meet for a few seconds looking over the other like you’re both trying to figure something out. Things different from the ‘different’ you felt earlier. This different feels like something is off; the first one felt like a dream. Maybe it was.
“Okay,” he replies lightly, but he sounds unsure, like he doesn't know if it actually is ‘okay’. His eyes drop to the small bag that you brought into the room. “Whatcha got?”
You tell him you got Nari something for her birthday, nothing big but just something that reminded you of her. You ask him if it’s okay to give it to her.
He says of course, why wouldn’t it be?
For some reason the tiny exchange hurts.
Lacking an answer, you pinch at the little fat roll on Nari’s thigh, her tiny jean shorts putting all the chub on display. She looks up at you, and you raise the bag and shake it a little. Her smile grows as she realizes it's for her. Jeongguk is abandoned, your lap now occupied.
“She has no loyalty at all,” Jeongguk says.
“She’s just making as many allies as she can, and I think that is very smart of her,” you defend, watching as Nari plucks tissue paper after tissue paper out of the bag (with only one small hand, the other still holding her juice), until she’s squealing. Your face lights up at her enthusiasm, and hers lights up at the toy, and you don’t see it, but Jeongguk’s lights up at you both.
You’ve been good with her since that day you found her at your work, and Jeongguk notices when you go out of your way to ask about her, to be kind to her, patient with her... to take care of her. Never once have you treated her like she was a burden, or an inconvenience.
He sees the way that Nari is with you, too.
Sees how happy she gets when you walk in his front door, how she always shares her things with you in that sweet way that babies do when they like someone. She even asks about you when you don't come around for a few days. A babbled version of your name peeping from her little lips.
It’s no secret that his baby has grown attached to you, come to love you. Dasom’s words ring in his ears. The thing she said about Nari getting used to someone he brings into her life, just for them to not be permanent.  
A medium sized, pink, stuffed Narwhal is pulled from the bag by the horn, and Nari swings it to the side to show her dad, just for a moment, before she’s squeezing it to her chest. She’s cooing, kinda nuzzling into it.
“Ba buuu,” she says softly, eyes still on the gift like it's something wondrous, rather than just a small plush. Jeongguk grows soft and your heart squeezes in your chest. The warmth comes back, flickers before going out again.
“What is it?” Jeongguk asks around a sip of his wine.
“A narwhal. You know, Nar-i, Nar-whal.”
His mouth twitches, fighting a smile, but he just nods. Until he can’t hold his laughter in anymore, making you laugh too by consequence. Easy.
The little crows feet at the corners of his eyes make an appearance and he scrunches his nose at you as he quiets. His hair is still just a little bit damp. “It’s cute,” he amends. “You didn’t have to get her anything, but thank you for thinking about her.”
The smile on his lips is tiny, but you can tell it’s genuine. Without laughter lightning up his face, you realize how tired he looks, warn out.
“Are you okay?” you say, arms raising so Nari is able to get up, making her way to her other toys, the narwhal tucked into her side. She grabs a babydoll, holds it to the narwhal and makes them move around like she’s introducing her toys.
Jeongguk sighs, and leans back on his hands. “Just wasn’t expecting that, is all… I get stressed when things don’t go as planned.”
“That’s why you broke out the wine in the middle of the day?” you ask with a teasing tone.
He rolls his eyes playfully. “One glass won’t hurt…”
The doorbell cuts off your reply. The food’s here.
~~~
The headboard behind Jeongguk’s back is hard, just like he is under you.
But his touches are soft, just like his kisses.
You’re straddling him, your hips just barely rocking over him as you lick into his mouth. Mewl against his lips. Hands in his hair, not pulling, but just twining your fingers in his locks, keeping him close.
It’s slow, unhurried and gentle. When he brings his palms to your chest over his shirt, he feels how your nipples pebble through the material as he squeezes, rolls them in his hands. So responsive to his touch, you pull away for just a moment to breathe out a pleased sigh before giving him a few cute pecks. Pushing into your lips, he deepens the kisses, his tongue teasing the seam of your lips until you open up for him.
He feels young again, like he’s making out with his crush, heavy petting because they are too scared to go all the way, but too into each other to not give in just a little. He hasn’t felt this way in so long. You gasp into his mouth when he pinches your nipple between his fingertips. His cock pulses, but his heart clenches.
It’s like reality is finally catching up to him. Reminding him that you and him were never supposed to get in so deep, were never supposed to get so entangled in each other’s lives. Fun and casual. That’s what it’s supposed to be. But it’s so much more than that now. At least for him it is.
His heart clenches because he’s not young anymore, but you still are.
The baby monitor that goes off with hiccuping cries just confirms his feelings.
“Sorry,” he says against your lips, his hands moving to your hips, squeezing before he helps maneuver you off of him.
“Bring her back in here,” you suggest.
Jeongguk pauses, twisting to crack his back. “You sure?”
You hum, “Yeah, wanna hang out with you both.”
And again his heart pulls, but he nods with a soft smile and a quick kiss before he’s hurrying out of the room.
Hands scrub over your face as you wait for him, your head knocking against the headboard. You purposefully focus on playing a game on your phone while you wait, refusing to let your thoughts loop incessantly around your brain.
It's a little while when Jeongguk walks back in with Nari on his hip. The sight makes you coo.
Nari’s looking around like she’s still a little out of it, her tiny round body in a light pink nightie covered in little bunnies sleeping on clouds and moons. Instead of her hair being in her trademark little ponies, it’s down, falling in messy little wisps around her face. The narwhal is clutched in her tiny hand by the horn and when she sees you, she blinks a few times before she smiles around the paci in her mouth.
“Hi sweet girl,” you say, when Jeongguk places her on the bed.
She tries to walk over to you, but the bed is soft and she’s very much still tired so she stumbles, hits the mattress with a small oof and an airy little giggle. Crawling the rest of the way she sits herself next to you, puts her plush in her lap.
“Think someone had a bad dream,” Jeongguk says around a yawn, taking his spot on the bed. “Also sorry it took a second, had to change her pull up.”
You hum, your hand coming up to pet at her hair, dark, silky, and baby scented.
“Wanna watch something, boba?” Jeongguk asks, laying himself on his side, one hand propped under his head, the other on the remote.
Nari nods, hunkers down in the fluffy pillow behind her. She looks at you and pats the sheets, as if telling you to lay down like her and her Daddy. Of course you listen.
It’s calm and quiet, just the children’s show playing in the background that you all are watching. You and Jeongguk half heartedly, Nari with round eyes. She lets out little laughs every now and then, her blinks slow and heavy. Jeongguk’s got a hand resting on Nari’s tummy and her little hand holds onto his thumb.
The scene is domestic.
“She doesn’t have nightmares often, does she?” you ask quietly.
Jeongguk glances at you, shakes his head. “Not here at least.”
“Has she always been a co sleeper?”
Jeongguk shakes his head again. “Not till after the divorce,” he says. “And I wouldn’t say she still co sleeps… most nights she sleeps on well on her own. I just don’t tell her no if she wants to come into my room.”
At the mention of the divorce your brain begins to whirl.
It’s not something he brings up often, and it’s never really bothered you. But after today, after you saw and heard how he and his ex interacted… It makes you curious. They seem to get along decently well, and they both clearly love Nari.
You sound a bit timid when you ask, “Why did you guys split up?”
Jeongguk’s quiet, doesn’t acknowledge that he heard you even though you know that he did. You worry that you’ve said something wrong, and you’re about to apologize but he speaks up.
“I’ll tell you… just getting my thoughts in order.”
~~~
Jeongguk stares down at the teeny, tiny baby in the bassinet. The light pink of the skirt at the bottom matches the accents on the walls of her nursery.
Her big eyes are watching the fairy mobile, big felt flowers dangling above her, the softest baby coos leaving her mouth every once in a while. She was already up when he got home from work.
When he puts his hand inside the baby bed and extends one of his fingers petting at her small hand, the baby jumps a little like she didn’t know he was there, but recognition is instant and she smiles up at him, her tiny fingers clutching around his.
“Hi miss Nari,” he says quietly, “How long have you been up, hmm? Bout time for some milk isn’t it?”
She blows a bubble up at him.
His heart swells as he picks her up, a big hand supporting her head as he pulls her to his chest. A detour to the changing table precedes his walk to the living room, where his wife is sat cross legged on the floor, papers and her laptop scattered in front of her on the coffee table. The video baby monitor is propped up as well.
“Hi honey,” Jeongguk says.
Dasom looks over her shoulder, sees the two of them and smiles. “Hey, how was work? And how’s our baby?” She types something on her laptop.
“Baby is good and work was work. Remember how I said we are thinking of setting up another branch?” Jeongguk asks, swaying a little with his cheek resting on Nari’s head. She smells like baby and Dasom hums in acknowledgement. “My brother finally got me a list of locations, so just a lot of assigning scouts to scope them out and budgeting for the cost of their travel.”
“That’s great, babe,” Dasom says.
Jeongguk watches her for a few more moments, as she flips through the papers like she’s looking for something. He walks around, so that he can sit in the loveseat off to the side, adjusts Nari so that she’s cradled in the bend of his arm. “What are you doing?” he asks.
“Just reviewing everything that’s happened at the office over the last few months…” She flicks her eyes to him.
Jeongguk frowns. “You still have two and a half weeks before you have to go back, don’t you?”
“Yeah, wanna be prepared though.”
Nari starts to wiggle in his arms, fussy. “Did you ever see if you could get a few more weeks since you guys were in the hospital for so long? That’s hardly a leave, if you ask me.”
She laughs lightly. “That’s true. But I don’t think it’s necessary? She’s doing really well, and I think that that Montessori nursery will be good for her.”
Tension fills Jeongguk’s body. “I thought we talked about letting Yeoreum watch her when you go back to work.”
“Well yes. We talked about it– but we didn’t commit to–”
“We didn’t commit to Montessori either–”
“What benefits is Nari getting if we do that?” Dasom says, finally giving Jeongguk her full attention. “No offense to Jin’s wife, but it’s not like she’s certified to care for newborns.”
“She’s a mother, Som. A very good one, she knows how to care for a baby. And Nari would be the only baby she’s taking care of so it’s one on one attention and it’s someone we know and trust so–”
“Montessori has curriculum, and it teaches children to be independent–”
“She’s a baby! She doesn’t need to be independent. She needs to be–”
Nari’s fussiness has escalated, her tiny cries filling the living room. Jeongguk starts rocking her, shushing her with soft coos. He tries the pacifier attached to her onesie, but she just pushes it out, crying louder.
“She’s hungry,” Jeongguk says, getting to his feet so he can hand her to her mom.
“I pre-pumped when she was napping earlier. There’s a bottle with 6.5 ounces in the fridge.”
Picking his battles and barely suppressing a frustrated sigh, he walks to the kitchen and places the bottle in the warmer. Nari’s cries continue to sound as he waits, bouncing her a little, rubbing her back.
Back in the loveseat, he tries to give Nari her dinner but she’s grumpy, turning her head or pushing the nipple out of her mouth, growing angrier by the minute, her tiny body turning red from how hard she’s crying.
“She’s not taking the bottle, I think she–”
“Is it warm enough?”
“Yes, I think she wants you.”
Nari’s mom looks over the top of her laptop and nods. “I’m just about done–”
“Dasom, please,” Jeongguk says, “She’s hungry and she wants her mom.”
Almost like a fog clears, Dasom’s face falls before she’s nodding hastily. “Yeah, yeah… I’m sorry I– bring her to me.”
As soon as Nari’s in her mom’s arms she quiets some, and once Dasom holds her close and starts to feed her it’s serene again. Nari’s little hand opens and closes rhythmically, until her mom gives her her finger, like Jeongguk did early. Ever since she came home from the hospital, she’s liked to hold hands.
“I’m sorry,” Dasom whispers again, without looking at Jeongguk. He can hear the guilt in her voice.
He tells her it's okay and that he’s going to shower.
Later when Nari’s down for the night and he and his wife are laying in bed, Dasom apologizes again. Tells Jeongguk that she was just stressed with preparing for work and juggling the baby.
“Som-ie, that reminds me, I was thinking…”
She turns to look at him from his side of the bed, smiling. “Not too hard, hopefully.”
“Ha-ha,” he says, unamused. He continues nervously, like he’s walking on eggshells. “But I was thinking– what if you took off for the first year or so?”
The shift in atmosphere is instant. Dasom goes stiff in her spot next to him, and she says silent.
“I only say it because we would be fine, you know?” He tries to explain, “My job brings in more than enough for us to be okay, and if you just stayed home with her, you could teach her the way that you want and I would get the peace of mind knowing that she’s safe with someone I love and trust. We would solve the daycare dilemma…”
Still, his wife says nothing, her brows furrowed.
“And you wouldn’t be so stressed…” Jeongguk continues, “you wouldn’t have to worry about work on top of being a mom… You would never miss any of her firsts and–”
“When we talked about having a baby, I told you I didn’t want to be one of those moms.”
Dasom’s voice is upset, her tone hard.
“I know, I know,” Jeongguk says softly, “But it wouldn’t be for forever. Just until she’s older… I read that companies will give extended leaves sometimes, kind of like a sabbatical.”
She laughs in disbelief, “How long have you been thinking about this? I’m not taking an extended leave, or a sabbatical, or a hiatus or whatever it is you’ve been researching, Jeongguk. I worked so hard to get to where I am,” she closes her eyes like she’s trying to stay calm, “You can’t ask me to throw that away.”
“That’s not what I’m asking–”
“But it is!” she exclaims, “Even being gone for 3 months has already put me back. My position isn’t one that can stay open for extended periods of time. And that means if I take off for even just a year– it’ll be given to someone else. Someone else will come into what I built and either reap the benefits or ruin it.”
Jeongguk stays quiet, looking at the pattern of the duvet over his lap.
It’s softer when Dasom speaks up again. “If that’s the kind of mother you want me to be– the kind that has no substance, or passions, or goals outside of being a mom– then… you may as well get the papers.”
Jeongguk’s head snaps up, his expression shocked and confused. “Divorce? Why is that the first thing your mind goes to?”
Dasom runs her hands through her hair, pressing the heels of her palms against her temples. “I’m not gonna bend on this, Kook.”
And it was almost like when the idea of divorce was spoken into existence, it was something that hung over them, like a curse that took only 7 months to come true.
~~~
“Dasom is a good mom,” Jeongguk says slowly, “We just parent very differently.”
You stay quiet, waiting for him to continue, adjusting yourself so that you’re looking at him.
“That’s the root of it, really. We couldn’t agree on anything when it came to Nari. And obviously we talked about things before she was born, and had a loose idea of how we wanted to raise her…” He stops for a moment to think.
“It’s just so different when they are born, like you think you know what it means to be a parent but you really don’t. Not until it’s already happened and they are in your arms and you’re searching for a daycare and coming across horror stories about the workers abusing the kids. Or thinking about how it wouldn’t be the end of the world if she doesn’t talk but also knowing how much harder her life will be if she doesn’t.”
You can feel a heaviness cloud the room. Jeongguk is so good at keeping this part of himself tucked away, good at putting on a brave face that when you look at him and see him looking down at his baby with worried, furrowed brows, your heart aches.
“And it led to a lot of really bad fights and it just got to a point where one day I decided I wouldn’t raise a baby in a home that was tumultuous.”
“What did you guys argue about?” you ask softly.
Jeongguk gives you a sad smile. “More like what didn’t we argue about. Daycare… But I’ll admit I agreed to it before she was born and then changed my mind... Her speech, how to deal with tantrums, where she slept, what she ate. I think Dasom’s too tough, she thinks I’m too soft…” he taps his fingers on Nari’s belly, “She thinks I’m part of the reason why she doesn’t talk. That because I dote on her, Nari thinks that she doesn’t need to use words so she just doesn’t.”
Your brows furrow. “Babies hit milestones at different rates, my cousin didn’t talk at all until he was three… Taking care of her isn’t hindering her development.”
“Thank you,” he says, quietly. “I think she’s starting to understand that too, as we keep getting outside opinions…”
He falls silent and you can tell he’s sad, his hand coming up to push Nari’s hair off of her forehead, the baby now sleeping, her round tummy expanding as she takes deep breaths. You feel bad, having brought the tense atmosphere on with your questions.
“Nari’s so smart, Gguk,” you say, kind of hasty, eager to make him feel better. “Like earlier I was upset, and she just knew… she’s so emotionally intelligent and has such a pure heart–”
“You were upset earlier?” Jeongguk asks, his gaze questioning as he looks at you.
Your mouth opens and closes like you’re trying to find the right words, but none will come out.
“Why were you upset?” he asks again, genuine worry on his face.
And just like a few hours ago, when you felt like Nari was asking you if you were okay; when Jeongguk asks you why you were upset, tears begin to well in your eyes.
At the sight of tearing up, Jeongguk sits up gingerly trying to not wake Nari, but also be attentive at the same time. “Hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me…”
You sit up too, looking at Jeongguk for a moment before looking down at your hands in your lap. A tear lands on your skin when you blink, and you take a deep breath before you say, “I… I heard you earlier…”
His face pulls into one of confusion. “Me and Dasom?”
Your head tilts back, and you sound exasperated when you say, “Who else?”
Jeongguk thinks for a moment, goes over what he and his ex talked about, remembers her being a bit touchy about your age, and then he thinks he gets it. His features soften as he says, “Don’t listen to her… seeing you just caught her off guard, she–”
You give a hopeless watery laugh, turning to look at him with sad eyes. “It’s not what she said, it’s what you didn’t say.”
And once again confusion takes over his features, his mind trying to comprehend how and why something he never even said could hurt you to the point of you sniffling in his bed, your eyes begging him to get it. He feels bad when he says, “I don’t understand?”
It was never in the plan for you to be the girl that’s crying about why a man did or didn’t do something– that’s never been who you are. You’ve never really cared enough to get upset, you’ve always been independent, just cutting your losses and moving on.
But with Jeongguk, cutting your losses feels a lot like cutting out part of your heart, and you don’t think you’ll make it if you do that. One can live with half their lungs, only one of their kidneys… but no one ever lasts long when part of their heart goes missing. Jeongguk has become vital to you.
“Jeongguk,” you whisper, “What are we doing?”
Maybe it’s unfair of you to ask him something like that, when you both agreed to something carefree, no strings attached. But you think that falling in love with someone is a lot like how Jeongguk described being a parent: You think you know what it means, but you really don’t. Not until it’s already happened.
Because that’s what felt different prior to opening that door and letting doubt in with the breeze. Everything felt warmer, easier, safer, better because it was laced with the realization that you love Jeongguk.
His face has fallen when you look at him, waiting for his reply. The corners of his lips are down turned, and his brows are turned up. He begins to shake his head softly, his mouth parting a few times before he’s raising his shoulders in a hopeless way.
“I– I don’t know anymore,” he whispers back.
That’s the answer you expected, but it still makes you exhale pain, like his words knock the wind out of you. It’s shaky when you catch your breath, but you nod.
“I think I should leave for tonight,” you tell him, starting to push his comforter to the side.
Jeongguk feels his heart start to race, and he reaches out for you, his hand landing on your shoulder. “What? Right now? It’s the middle of the night– don’t– it’s–”
“If you don’t want me to leave,” you interrupt him, “then we need to talk.”
His mouth snaps shut and he rolls his lips between his teeth like he’s thinking. He glances at the baby sleeping between you, and gives you a quick nod. “Yeah, okay… Just not here, I don’t want her waking up again… let me get the monitor from her room. I’ll meet you in the living room.”
Nodding wordlessly, you slip out of the room.
You’re pacing lightly, in nothing but his shirt that hits high on your thigh and a pair of panties, when Jeongguk comes out. He’s still shirtless, but he pulled on some joggers before leaving the room. One hand is pushing his hair back like he’s stressed, and the other is holding the baby monitor. He places it on the counter, and turns to you. A sad smile is offered, and you give him one back because it’s instinct.
It seems like neither of you know where to begin, both just breathing heavy in the artificial light. You take a deep breath.
“I wanted you to defend me,” you admit.
Jeongguk stays quiet, but his brows pinch.
“Or maybe like… defend us…” Embarrassment creeps into your bones.
“Defend us over what?” he asks. He doesn’t sound like he’s being dense, but like he actually doesn’t know.
Sighing, you say, “The way she talked about me, Gguk… She said I was something you needed to ‘get out of your system’... just a friend you fuck that’s disposable and unimportant and–”
“You know that’s not true,” he interjects.
“Yeah I do. Why didn’t you tell her that?” You can feel the first licks of anger in your chest, your voice coming out harsher than you intend. “Why did you let her talk about me like I’m just some stupid kid that doesn’t know what she wants? Like you don’t know what you want?”
Jeongguk thinks about it, realizes the answer is quite simple.
“Because I don’t know what I want, and I don’t think that you know what you want either.”
You look taken aback, and anger colors your features. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that this turned into something it was never supposed to and now we don’t know how to navigate it or what we want from each other anymore,” Jeongguk explains, trying to keep the sadness out of his voice.
It’s true and it’s not at the same time. Because Jeongguk knows what he wants, at least to some extent, but he knows he can’t have it. Meaning that if he can’t have what he wants, he doesn’t know what he wants instead of that. And he supposes he can’t speak for you, but he doesn’t correct himself, instead says, “We’re in too deep, __… I care about you.”
It doesn’t sound like much, but you know what he means… know that it’s a confession of some sort.
Tentative hope bubbles in your chest at his words, and you take a few steps closer to him. “That’s not a bad thing, I care too. We both care so we can–” you pause, and look up at him. “We can just take the next step or something, right?”
Jeongguk smiles softly, and his hands come up to cup your face and it’s warm again, and it’s safe when you’re in his palms and when he’s kissing you. Your hands come up to just hold at his wrists, eyes shutting, and it’s sweet again and–
“It’s not that simple, baby…”
–and it’s over.
“There’s something that Dasom said that’s true.”
And you know it’s childish but you shake your head in his hands and tears begin to brim. She ruined everything. She planted that seed of doubt in both your heads, and she’s the reason why Jeongguk doesn’t feel safe anymore and why his hands aren’t warm and why everything is falling apart. You squeeze your eyes shut and scrunch your brows together, a few tears spilling over. “I don’t want to talk about her,” you whisper.
He smiles, a sad curve to his lips. “I know, you don’t... But we both need to hear it… We don’t agree on a lot when it comes to Nari, but she was right when she said that thing about people coming into Nari’s life and then leaving after she gets attached. That’s not fair to Nari and it was selfish of me to let it happen.”
“How do you know I’m just going to leave?” you ask.
“Because I’m not going to let you stay,” Jeongguk whispers, his thumb wiping away the tears that have already started to flow.
Words don’t even come to you, because of how badly it hurts. And you’re doing your best to keep it as together as you can because you aren’t pathetic. You’re not going to beg him to let you stay but you want to understand why. Your voice cracks when you ask him.
“You’re too young, __. And I’m not saying that’s why I don’t think you know what you want… But I don’t think you know what being with me long term means, and what you would be missing out on… I’m not going to trap you, it’ll just lead to you resenting me,” he says gently. His hands have left your face, and he walks around a little like he’s trying to gather his thoughts. “And there’s just so much that I have to balance. I don’t know if I have room or the time–”
It feels like a slap in the face. How did everything change so quickly from this morning?
“There was room in your bed for me,” you interrupt him, bitter pain lacing your words. “You had time to fuck me.”
He winces. “You know I didn’t mean it like that,” he tells you gently, “I just meant… I think I need to think about things, reevaluate my priorities–”
It sounds a lot like what you said earlier, when you were under him, taunting him with kisses.
You hum, “I just think you need to reevaluate your priorities, maybe.”
“And what do you think my priorities should be, __?” he whispers, eyes searching your face, lingering on your lips, a fond look coloring his features.
“Well, right now,” you start, looping your arms around his neck, “I think you should really focus on that plank, and on that kiss you’re dying to give me.”
And god, you wish you could go back. Wish you could rewind and just replay everything up until the doorbell rang. But you can’t because the reality of the situation is that this was always going to end.
Jeongguk has his mind made up. The fear of you leaving him and Nari and the fear of you resenting him if you stayed are inevitable feelings that he would have realized eventually. He has priorities and if he doesn’t change the way he thinks, it won’t ever work because–
“Because I’m not one of them…” you realize quietly. He cares, but not enough.
Jeongguk’s composure breaks and it’s written all over his face, how much it hurts him to hurt you, even if it’s not intentional. “I’m sorry,” he says, and it sounds desperate like he’s yearning for you to know that he means it. “But it’s always going to be her, Nari will always be the most important thing to me.”
And you won’t beg for a place in his life, but you want him to understand.
“I’m not asking to be the most important thing in your life, that’s not what I want,” you tell him.
“What do you want?” he asks.
“I want you to understand that I just want to be with you,” you tell him.
He’s by the couch now, sitting on the armrest. His lips are pressed in a tight line, and you can see redness around his eyes from fighting tears of his own. You’re still by the counter where he left you.
“It doesn’t have to be so extreme, Gguk… It’s not like we’re getting married, we would just be taking a next step–”
“But we might, __!” he yells, before shutting his eyes roughly and taking a deep breath. His tone is softer when he continues. “Obviously I wouldn’t spring that on you, but being with me means that you have to be okay with a lot of things,” he says.  
When you ask him what kinds of things he says, “You would have to be okay with never coming first, with me cancelling on you whenever something comes up with Nari. You would have to be okay with me still having a relationship with my ex because I refuse to let my baby have parents that hate each other.”
You try to keep your face straight but he must be able to see how he’s getting into your head because he continues, almost like he’s trying to convince you it’s not worth it being with him.
“At 22 you have to be okay with potentially getting married, with being a stepmom… I know you care about Nari, but if you were to commit to me, you would have to commit to her too. There would be boundaries that me and Dasom make, and you would have to respect them. You and her would have to learn to get along.”
“You’re only 22, __,” he continues, his voice borders on whining, like he just wants you to get it. “You don’t want that. You would lose your freedom… while your friends are travelling or doing whatever, you’ll be in a relationship, tied down… I won’t do that to you, __.” He looks at you for a moment. “Maybe you want a relationship,” he amends, trying to acknowledge your feelings. “But you don’t want an instant family, it’s too much for someone so young. It’s even a lot for people my age.”
“Why does it have to be so… all or nothing?” you ask, a little desperate because it's hard to understand the way he thinks.
“I can’t think short term when I have a baby who depends on me long term,” he replies.
“Then what have we been doing this whole time?”
Jeongguk opens his hands, turns his palms up like he’s giving up. “I was selfish and I got caught up… I made a mistake.”
A mistake. Your heart breaks a little but it beats loud in your ears as you let his words sink in. It's a lot to take in, especially when you two haven’t spoken about being in a committed relationship even once before. And it's confusing because he said he cared.
“I thought you cared about me… Why does it feel like you’re trying to scare me away?” you ask him, voice hurt.
Jeongguk looks at his hands, like he can’t face you. “I do care about you, and I’m not trying to scare you,” he says quietly. “I’m just telling you a fraction of the things that you really need to think about.”
And think you do.
Do you really want all that? Was he right when he alluded to you losing more than you gain? Are you ready to get into a relationship with someone who has marriage as the end goal when you don’t even have your life figured out? Are you really mature enough to handle his relationship with his ex, when you can’t even maturely handle things with your roommates sometimes?
Would being with you be a good thing for him and Nari? Or would they be better off with someone else? Someone with goals and passions, and their life a little more figured out. Maybe someone who has a kid of her own, because she knows what it’s like already. Someone older and more mature with a good job. Someone who is nothing like you.
You didn’t even notice that you started crying, but when you come back, your eyes are blurry and your cheeks are sticky with old and new tears.
“Okay,” you say. You try to smile, but your chin is quivering. “I’ll let you know when I’ve thought through everything.”
When you go back to his room to get you things, you give Nari a tiny kiss, and you tell her that you’ll miss her. As you walk past Jeongguk to his front door, he doesn’t try to stop you this time.
You love Jeongguk, you’re sure that you do, but maybe being with him isn’t what's best. Doubt has made a home in your heart, that warmth you long for nowhere to be seen or felt.
~~~~
AYOOOOO don’t scream at me too much, that's not the end lmao but whoa... how’d they go from kissing to crying just like that hmm... also, opinions on the ex wife?? genuinely curious bc i actually dont hate her ?? 🤔 anyway, i hope you liked it, if you did please do all the things~~ please reblog, like, comment, send an ask... very curious about how we feel about this one 🙇🏻‍♀️ thanks for reading and as always i love u, sorry im posting late lol byeeee <3
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opaljm · 3 months ago
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nip it in the bud (m) – kth
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➻ female reader x taehyung
➻ going to get a piercing au/completing bucket list au + my brother’s best friend au + tattoo artist!taehyung
➻ genres: smut, romance
➻ length & status: 10k words; complete
➻ rating & warnings: 18+; taehyung has tattoos and piercings, he and his big hands are illegal, tae's oral fixation is entirely out of control, nipple sucking/breast play, semi-public sex (? idk tbh), the pussy eating he does is sloppy and gross, squirting, nasty/messy sex, unprotected sex (wear a condom and be safe kids OR ELSE), riding, creampie, pussy stuffing cuz tae has a big dick (I don’t think you understand it’s GIGANTIC), multiple orgasms
➻ summary: You're not sure how you ended up here, but maybe a shitty ex and a horrible breakup had a hand in what placed you in front of the tattoo parlor. It was already a nerve-wracking experience, but what you never expected was seeing that the owner and artist giving you nipple piercings was your older brother's best friend you hadn't seen in ages. to make things even worse, he got fucking hotter.
➻ a/n: this was born out of a TikTok where I learned that tattoo artists have to make sure your nipples are hard before piercing them and then I yelled at @jamaisjoons, having an existential crisis about how hot that was. She is the one who told me to write about it 😌 and the reason the fic exists. The last time I got piercings was idk 16 years ago (yes I was 7 🥴). I also have zero tattoos so my knowledge of this is minimal I just wanted to write hot Taehyung sex. Hope y’all enjoy this mess regardless. beta-read by @taegularities @hantaev & @chateautae​ (she helped with the summary too🤩) my favorite tae accounts who have encouraged me so much during this arduous writing process! beta-read and banner made by @softestmuse! You all were there for me for so much during this whole thing and helped so much 🥺
⋆ my masterlist ⋆
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Were you actually going to do this? Was this really happening?
As you stood in front of the tattoo parlor christened “Inked in Blue & Grey,” by the messily arranged jagged font that laid out the cobalt blue neon letters decorating the shopfront, you almost chickened out. 
When you had been scrolling through Yelp late at night two weeks ago, flitting between the stages of depression and bargaining as you made your way through the grief from the breakup between you and your ex, Donghyuk, your eyes had stopped on the highly rated tattoo parlor – 4.9 stars? That was practically unheard of, especially when they had reviews and ratings in the tens of thousands. It hadn’t taken much for you, with eyes hurting from the blue light of your cellphone in the late hours and a head aching from how wine drunk you were, to quickly find the link to their website and sign up for an appointment to get twin nipple piercings. Well, no one ever wanted a singular nipple piercing to your knowledge. But you had no doubt that there were countless people out there who had chickened out from the pain of the first to not follow through with the second one.
You slowly pulled your lower lip with your teeth, softly biting down on the plump flesh as you had your head tilted up towards the intimidatingly bright letters of the parlor’s sign. The last time you had gotten any piercings was in summer camp ten years ago when Yuju had stabbed your ears through with a sewing needle. The needle had been unbearably hot from having been heated by the flame of the fluid lighter she had snuck into camp by tucking it in the black Nike crew socks she had been wearing on drop off day. It had stung you with the quick flashing pain of a burning stab wound. 
Yuju had been your last resort to get additional ear piercings which you had thought were so cool after you saw your brother walk into the house one day with several new helix piercings to go along with his lobe ones. You had begged your mother for another set of piercings, tired of having the boring set of two you had. You wouldn’t get them in the cartilage like Jimin had but wanted to add to your lobe. Your mother had vehemently denied your protests and grounded Jimin for sneaking out and getting piercings with his best friend Taehyung. 
You had complained about it to your cabin mates, who had seen the scores of tween and teen campers swoon over your brother and his friends who seemed edgy and dangerous. Your friends however were immune to their appeal and knew that they weren’t much more than geeky nerds who carefully hid their embarrassing tastes in both anime and porn. Hearing thirteen-year-old Y/N complain about her plight in the late-night whispers covered by the chirping of crickets that kept the night camp counselors from checking in on your cabin, Yuju had jumped down from her bunk into yours and eagerly offered to help you increase your total number of piercings up to four.
Looking back, you had no idea why you had trusted Yuju’s dubious claims of working at the Claire’s in the mall close to her house for three months. Later on, you found out that it had actually been Yuju’s older sister who had had the nice mall gig. The incident had left you with piercings that kept getting infected until one of them finally closed up, and you were still rocking the asymmetrical ear-piercing look, almost a decade later with one dangly earring threaded with stars on your right ear while a cubic zirconium stud and gold bedazzled moon clipped your left ear. You never saw the point of getting them fixed and had avoided piercings and needles to the best of your abilities until now.
You thought you pulled off the mixed jewelry look pretty well, but your face instantly scrunched up with an unhappy frown when you remembered Donghyuk telling you to wear matching earrings when you went out on dates with him. You bit down on the flesh of your bottom lip harder as you recalled how Donghyuk had constantly berated you and put you down for the entire duration of your three-year long relationship. Your face twisted as though a bitter taste had flooded your mouth when you remembered that your mother had been expecting him to propose to you this year. Why had you begged him for another chance when he callously threw your arms off him as he stomped around the apartment gathering up his things, ignoring your pleas and requests for an explanation until he couldn’t take it anymore? Then Donghyuk had turned around to you, glaring at you with the heat of his hard black-brown eyes, staring you down resentfully from his towering height of 6’2.
“I broke up with you because I’m tired of having such mind-numbingly vanilla sex with a woman who never comes. You’re so boring and honestly, I’m just not attracted to you anymore, Y/N. I thought I could change the meek mousy weirdo. But after three years, it looks like I was wrong,” he had said with a caustic bite to the venomous hate he spewed from his mouth.
Yes. You remembered exactly why you had booked that appointment in the fuzzy high you had gotten from too much wine and “Emily in Paris.” You had been so livid. Of all people, Donghyuk thought you were boring? Unadventurous, and vanilla? You were the one who was always holding yourself back from being too enthusiastic during sex because he could only get off when he was doing you doggy style with his hand covering your mouth in what he thought was his attempt at BDSM in the bedroom.
Your eyes lit up with renewed heat and you found yourself marching forward to the door and swinging it towards you with a powerful pull as you made your way in. Your newfound confidence only lasted until you made your way to the receptionist. There, you found yourself fumbling once more.
“Hi, I’m Park Y/N,” you stammered nervously, “I – uh, I made an appointment for… um nipple piercings,” you whispered the last bit, embarrassedly as your neck straightened and you twisted your head around to make sure no one else had overheard you. “Two weeks ago? I made my piercing appointment a while back,” you finished more confidently.
The receptionist stared at you expressionlessly. “What time is your appointment?” she asked, tucking back a vibrant purple lock of hair behind her ear.
“It’s – it’s the one o’ clock,” you mumbled, clearing your throat uneasily. You had never been in an establishment like this before and dressed in your oversized sage colored waffle knit sweater and a pair of charcoal gray Lululemon leggings you felt wildly out of place.
“Alright Y/N, here are the forms you need to fill out before you do this,” she said easily, plucking out the thick stapled document out of a manila folder. “Just a reminder, this is a semi-permanent body modification and this will close up rather quickly if you go without wearing jewelry for too long. There are pages on your medical history and if you have any allergies on the front. Prices and payment information are on the pages following that. The documents explaining the procedure and aftercare are at the end. We’ll send you home with a list of instructions on how to care for your new piercings after your appointment ends as well.”
You blinked, overwhelmed by the staggering amount of information she had just thrown your way. As you sat down at the oatmeal colored sherpa sofa at the reception and read through all the health risks and warnings, making sure you were taking in all of the information, carefully signing all the lines and checking off all the boxes, you wondered if you were in over your head.
Technically, it wasn’t too late for you to turn your back on this. You would lose your deposit, but you could still walk away – pain free. What would Jimin do if he found out that you had gotten your nipples pierced? Probably murder you, based on how he had reamed you and Yuju out after your ears had gotten infected from swimming in the lake the camp had been located next to. But would you really let your overbearing annoying older brother control you even now when you were 23? And how would Jimin even know about you getting these very intimate piercings? 
You only saw him a few times a year. There was no way Jimin would be finding out about this, nipples were more discreet than ears and you couldn’t even remember the last time you had been around your brother in clothing that would even hint that you had boobs, much less nipples. Jimin had only ever seen you in oversized T-shirts, flannel pajama bottoms or baggy sweats, and giant zip-up hoodies when he had the fortune of being in your company. No wonder he sometimes forgot you were a girl. 
Once you finished up the paperwork, you made your way back to the girl at the front desk with the clipboard. Placing it down on the counter, you took out your credit card to pay up front, with your id card beside it as verification on top of the terrazzo surface, but she shook her head, “You pay at the end for the piercings and the jewelry you pick. Personally, I prefer nipple clickers,” she said wryly, twisting her lips into a smirk.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” you mumbled as you watched her stand up and come around to you.
“Follow me, I’ll take you to the private room we have for the more intimate tattoos and piercings. There’s only one artist in today but he should be finishing up with his other client soon. You’ll probably only have to wait 5 to 10 minutes for V,” she threw her words over her shoulder carelessly as she guided you through the narrow hallway.
When she closed the door behind you and left you alone in the room, you felt rather like you were at the doctor’s waiting for your gynecologist to come in and the panic quickly set in once again. Should you have your shirt off and be ready for the piercing? Or would the tattoo artist be freaked out if he was instantly assaulted with the image of your breasts the second he opened the door? Should you sit up on the wide leather covered table or continue to stand while staring awkwardly at the door waiting for the artist to walk in?
As you looked around the small room, your eyes caught on the artwork decorating the walls. They were on white backgrounds that were framed and looked like post-impressionist portraits. The color scheme stuck to black and the primary colors, while the faces had the boldest of expressions painted over them. Extraordinary, you thought, as the door opened behind you.
“Hi, I’m V. I'll be the artist who is piercing you today. I see you’ve signed up for two nipple piercings?” A deep sensual voice flooded into the room, making you shudder involuntarily. 
You turned back and saw a male looking down at the clipboard with the forms you had filled out, his face was half covered by an indigo face mask dotted with silver embroidered stars while the other half was concealed by the soft looking black waves that were flowing forward as his bangs swept over his forehead and obscured his eyes.
“Yes, that’s right,” you nervously tittered, “Should I– should I take off my top?”
“Mmhmm,” he murmured, his eyes quickly sweeping over you, barely looking at you, as he continued on professionally, “Could you also take off your bra and tie back your hair before sitting up on the table?”
V turned around to the cabinets to get out the clamps and needles he would need to pierce you. As he bustled around gathering purple latex gloves and alcohol wipes, he asked in his soothing husky voice, “So what type of jewelry are we thinking? Titanium straight barbells? White gold hoops?”
“Which one is better?” you asked, shuddering in the air-conditioned room as your arms prickled up with goosebumps and you wrapped your arms around your naked upper half.
“Most people get the straight barbells; they find them to be the most comfortable,” V said as he tinkered around with the selection of nipple rings, “Titanium is hypoallergenic so it’s a really good metal choice. If you’re more sensitive to metals I would probably recommend gold but that’s a little more expensive. Any special closures you’re looking for? Star attachments at the end? Moons?”
“Just the basic white gold straight barbells with the star ends,” you muttered quietly. You’d worry about getting more decorative adornments for your nipples when they fully healed from the piercings and you were more accustomed to them. For now, the cute stars at the ends, instead of spherical stoppers, would be enough.
V readied everything on a small table with wheels that he pushed to one side of where you were sitting. As he pulled his gloves on, he said, “I’m going to clean your nipples and then I'll flick them to make sure they are erect enough that I can comfortably clamp them and pierce the needle through them, okay? Let me know if at any moment I am making you feel uncomfortable, sound good?”
You hummed your assent and V finally looked up from his equipment, an alcohol wipe in his hand as he reached forward for your left breast. Before he made contact however, his eyes met yours.
“Y/N?” he yelped in shock, his large gloved fingers brushing against your nipple for the briefest of moments in his shock before he recovered and recoiled from you as though he had been struck.
Your brows furrowed as you confusedly inquired, “Taehyung?”
The two of you stared at each other in shock. The male who was standing in front of you with the Van Gogh-esque vines and branches wrapping their way up his right arm  and covering his throat surely could not be the Kim Taehyung you had grown up with. This could not be your brother Jimin’s childhood best friend. This could not be the former bane of your existence.
“Yes,” breathed Taehyung, still gaping at you with his mouth wide open from behind his mask, not that you could see. You noted that he respectively maintained eye contact with you the entire time, not letting his eyes dip below your gaze. Shrugging on your muted green sweater you glared at him. The second you were covered, Taehyung gazed upwards to the rafters and murmured a not so silent prayer much to your displeasure.
“Y/N why are you getting your– ” Taehyung stopped, obviously struggling with how to word his question while not wanting to talk about his best friend’s younger sister’s nipples. “Why are you getting more piercings?” he said instead with what you thought was highly misplaced affront. “Remember when you almost died because of Yuju in eighth grade?”
Taehyung was so dramatic. You glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest, noting with satisfaction that a red flush was spreading across his golden skin as you held your gaze.
Taehyung had been a junior in high school and the camp counselor assigned to all the cabins in the row yours had been in the same summer Yuju had gone ham with your ears. He had also gotten his ass handed to him when Jimin had found out that instead of making sure the campers were asleep he had been sucking face with Jennie Kim every night.
You scowled, annoyed by how the Taehyung in front of you was a long way away from the gangly nerd with unattractive rectangle framed dad glasses and straight brown hair cut into an unflattering bowl cut that you remembered. Sure, everyone had always talked about how attractive Taehyung had been growing up, but you had never seen it. Taehyung had been a geek who had a penchant for weird outfits with his loose fit/too short culottes, brightly colored oversized crewnecks that were more hole than sweater thanks to his overeager hands when it came to snipping with scissors, and black beat-up converse lows. He had been the furthest thing from what you were into back in the day. However, the man standing in front of you right now? He was almost intimidatingly beautiful. A stunning Adonis, so gorgeous that even Aphrodite had fallen in love.
Taehyung had pulled off his mask and was frowning at you, his petal pink lips pressed thinly together. Your eyes widened when you noticed the glint of silver peeking out between his lips. Taehyung had a piercing on his tongue.
“Are you trying to police my right to have piercings?” you angrily demanded, “You work at a tattoo parlor! You have seven piercings.”
His beautiful dark brows pulled down as his wavy hair swept forward covering one of his eyes again, but he hectically moved his hair away from his face as he looked at you in abrupt alarm, “How could you possibly know that?!”
You froze in confusion, halting your impassioned tirade. Taehyung had seven piercings? You looked at him straight on again, your eyes flitting across his body, scanning him from head to toe. You had known about his five ear piercings. He had gotten them with Jimin when the two of them had still been in high school and you would see Taehyung everyday either at school or your house because of how often he would be over. The only facial piercing he had was his tongue. Where was the seventh? As your gaze drifted down his front, it stopped at his chest. Though you had been thinking about people with only one nipple piercing earlier, you somehow didn’t think Taehyung would be in that crowd. 
Your gaze finally stopped awkwardly at his crotch which was concealed by his black jeans. You stilled at the thought of Taehyung having a piercing on his cock and tried to look away quickly after you came to the realization. 
Unfortunately for you, Taehyung hadn’t planned on making it easy for you. A large veiny hand palmed at his denim covered crotch. “Are you having dirty thoughts about my dick, Y/N?” murmured Taehyung.
“I’m not!” you protested. “I’m just here for my piercing appointment so get on with it, Taehyung! Treat me like one of your usual customers!” 
You grabbed at the bottom of your sweater again and this time, instead of just holding it up above your breasts for Taehyung, you pulled the entire thing off. With your bare chest still heaving, you attempted to straighten your back, meeting Taehyung’s eyes confidently. 
Taehyung held your gaze with heat behind his chocolaty brown eyes for long interminable minutes. A sense of understanding seemed to pass between the two of you before he bit his lips and grated, “Fine, Y/N.”
Taehyung went back to the table where he had been preparing his equipment, making sure that he had gathered everything before pushing it along to stand right next to where you were seated. He sat down on a circular stool with wheels and slid towards you, using his feet to propel him forward.
Sighing once he was in front of you, he squirted hand sanitizer on his purple encased hands to make sure they were still clean, though he hadn’t touched anything other than your jewelry to resterilize them after his panicked realization that you were his client. He slowly and thoroughly rubbed his palms together, working the sanitizer in between his fingers, taking as much time as he could to delay the inevitable and then fanned them to dry. You were mesmerized by the size of his hands. They were so big they could probably cover your boobs with room to spare even though you were a rather busty girl yourself. You whimpered a little as you watched him at work.
Taehyung had heard you making that sound but he tried to ignore it. You were making it hard for him to think straight. He had never once thought that one day his dick would fall for Jimin’s crybaby little sister that he had annoyed at every opportunity he had gotten when he was younger. He had been trying to avoid direct eye contact with your uncovered upper half without much success. Your two voluptuous teardrop breasts seemed to be begging for his attention with their perky upturned nipples, hard due to the cold air drafting into the room. And below your breasts was your tiny waist and heavenly hips. You were shaped like the hourglass filled with black sand that he had for decoration in this room. 
He had already sterilized the white gold bars that you had wanted, and cleaning them a third time would only make you have an angry outburst again he was sure, but now it was time for him to get your nipples ready. He matter-of-factly ripped open an alcohol wipe, unfolding the drenched white sheet within the packet. It was finally time for him to touch you. He didn’t think he had ever been so unnerved in his life. 
Pulling the seat as close to the table that you were on as he comfortably could, he reached out for you. One of his large hands clutched your side, long fingers splayed over your ribs to hold you in place, as his other hand delicately swiped at your nipples with the alcohol wipe. You were frozen like a statue, not even daring to breathe as Taehyung was at work, his face only inches away from your breasts. Too soon, or so you had thought, his hands went away to grab the surgical scrub to further ensure that your nipples were as clean and disinfected as possible before he went to work and actually stabbed your chest to create the piercings. 
You sighed as his hands returned to your chest again. Taehyung had moved on from cleaning your skin to etching them with a marker to indicate where your piercings would be. He cupped the underside of one of your breasts with his left hand while his right hand carefully drew blue dots on either side of your nipples that were parallel to each other. He then switched over to your other breast and drew on the dots to replicate what he had marked before as symmetrically as possible. 
The scratchiness of the pen tip hardened your nipples even more than they had been and wetness pooled in between your pressed thighs. When he was done his palm was flat against your abdomen, pushing you back, “You’ll want to lie down Y/N just to be cautious. Some people get their piercings done sitting but there is the possibility that you’ll faint so I just want everything to be safe for you.”
As you laid back to rest on top of the butcher paper covering the cool leather of the table, you panicked. Taehyung was really going to do this. He was treating you like a paying customer, which you were, but you found yourself wishing that he wasn’t acting so professionally and had tried harder to dissuade you from getting these piercings, especially since you were having second thoughts about this. 
He finally returned to face you again, holding a steel contraption that looked like scissors but the ends were flat with little holes. He had his fingers threaded through the clamps he was going to use to hold your nipple as he pricked through it with a long sterilized needle. 
Taehyung sighed, “I’m going to have to flick and touch your nipples a lot. I’m sure you’re aware of that already but it might take a little more finagling than you thought. It might not be a one and done process where the clamps are perfectly on on the first try. Just, tell me if it’s too much or I’m making you uncomfortable and I’ll immediately back off. Okay, Y/N?”
You nodded mutely. You didn’t trust yourself to speak. What if you threw up all over Taehyung the second you opened your mouth?
Taehyung held your right nipple in between his forefinger and thumb, gauging its firmness before determining that it wasn’t erect enough. He flicked it with his finger, and you had to stifle your reaction, the hardness of his nail bed, even through the latex glove, catching you by surprise. Finally, he was ready to use the clamps.
You breathed through your mouth as the metal clamps pinched your delicate mauve areola to hold the bud of your nipple in place. Leaving the equipment dangling from the edge of your breast, Taehyung turned back around to grab the needle he had prepared. 
While Taehyung had been focused on the next step, you had managed to further your panicked state and were almost hyperventilating. Your lips were pressed tightly together and your hands had furled themselves into clenched fists that had your fingers digging into the thin white butcher paper beneath you, ripping it as your nails dug tiny indentations into the smooth leather underneath. 
Before Taehyung went ahead with the first of your piercings, he glanced at your face, like he did with all his clients to make sure that everything was still going smoothly. What he found had him putting the needle down again. Your face was white with fear and your eyes were filled with liquid. 
“Hey,” murmured Taehyung softly, his gloved hand cupping your cheek. “What’s up Y/N? You wanna tell me what’s going on?”
“No!” you protested fiercely.
“Miss Park Y/N,” teased Taehyung, striving to adopt a lighthearted tone, “Come on, is it just nerves? You can tell me. If I know what’s wrong then I can help you fix it. Do you not wanna get these done today?”
You sighed, “Taehyung, it’s just. I don’t know. Why am I even doing this?”
“Hmm,” hummed Taehyung, steepling his fingers, his warm brown eyes glancing at you comfortingly, “A very good question. Why are you doing this? We don’t want you getting a piercing for the wrong reasons. What is it? Have you been down in the dumps and need some change? Well maybe it’ll help you but maybe it won’t and then you’ll end up with far more piercings than you ever thought you would.”
“Is that what happened with you?” you whispered. Now that Taehyung wasn’t actively working on getting your piercings done, you had covered your chest again with your hands cupping your breasts.
“Not exactly,” admitted Taehyung, “Maybe at first when I was getting the piercings with Jimin, but later on as I got more serious about art and creating, it became a way for me to express myself to the world. A way to solidify my character and what I wanted to be known for and associated with. I really had fun once I started adding the tattoos in,” he laughed huskily. His cheeks came with his boxy wide spread grin. You had missed Taehyung. Though granted, he had been annoying for much of your childhood, you’d had a lot of fun with him. You adored Taehyung, you realized belatedly. Though perhaps realizing it while you were topless was not the best time for your epiphany, you thought as blush took over you, blood rushing to the surface of your skin, painting your cheeks, ears, and chest a muted red.
“Will you tell me where the seventh piercing is?” you asked softly, pushing yourself up. 
Taehyung stared at you, his gaze going in between your face and your uncovered form, its heat was infectious and made your own skin flush even further in its wake.
“Perhaps,” he agreed, “Although, you’ll have to tell me what pulled you into this studio today, first.”
You pouted, “It’s really dumb.”
“This is a safe place,” Taehyung smirked winningly. He repeatedly raised and lowered his thick, impeccably groomed eyebrows mischievously, “I won’t judge you, Y/N.”
“Yes, you will,” you groaned.
“Yes, I will,” admitted Taehyung easily, the ghost of a smile still painting his lips. “But you’ll tell me anyway, won’t you?”
“Donghyuk broke up with me,” you grumbled, “We were supposed to get married.”
Taehyung blinked, he vaguely remembered a baby faced male that was slightly taller than him with a mushroom cap haircut. He scoffed, “The audacity of some people. You were so far out of his league, it’s insulting that you weren’t the one to end things.”
You smiled weakly at Taehyung’s attempt to cheer you up. “It made my mind go all over the place. I don’t know. Maybe he wasn’t wrong. Maybe I am unadventurous and boring. Maybe I am vanilla.”
“What’s wrong with vanilla?” complained Taehyung, throwing his hands up. His outcry of displeasure loud and clear.
You snorted, your gaze focusing on the length of his fluttering fingers for far too long, “Let’s not pretend you’re not one freaky mofo, Taehyung. But I don’t know, I just wanted to live a little.”
“So?” retorted Taehyung mulishly, “I am a man of diverse tastes. I can appreciate both vanilla and some of the more– experimental stuff.”
“Hmm,” you hummed, “I wanted to get nipple piercings, they're adventurous right? And it’s not because I think that if I do this he’ll get back together with me. But maybe he’s the one who kept me trapped and complacent. Maybe he’s the reason I’m not bold. I just wanted to try something new.”
Taehyung scoffed, “You didn’t have to go to such drastic and permanent measures. You can barely handle the nipple clamp. You would’ve cried and complained the entire month that you had to wait for your nipples to heal. You forget that, I know you. Oh Y/N,” Taehyung suddenly recalled, “You can’t do sexy stuff with your nipples while they heal so how exactly would that have helped you during your kinky adventures?”
You narrowed your eyes at him, “You don’t know me that well!”
“No?”
“I’m gonna lose my deposit,” you griped. “This is the worst day of my life.”
“You are so dramatic Y/N,” Taehyung replied, “How can this be the worst day of your life?!” he demanded, “What about the day Donghyun broke up with you and pushed you head first through the five stages of grief?”
“Donghyuk,” you corrected. Taehyung made a face at you, contorting his handsome visage into something that made you let out a loud laugh, visibly showing he did not give one fuck about what your former boyfriend’s name was.
“It’s not a complete loss, Y/N,” Taehyung murmured. 
“Why do you say that?” you asked. 
Taehyung placed those devilishly sexy and large hands on your waist pulling you closer to the edge of the table to where he was seated besides you. You gasped at how his grasp almost entirely circled your waist until his widespread fingers were millimeters away from meeting each other. “Ever had sex with the owner of a tattoo parlor?” he breathed, his deep voice purposefully gravelly and husky. 
“No,” you murmured, hardly daring to believe that Taehyung returned your affections. The long buried feelings from your secret crush on Taehyung all those years ago, erupting once again in your heart.
“You don’t need to get piercings to make it fun, Y/N,” Taehyung tantalized.
“You’ll tell me about the seventh piercing?” you confirmed.
Taehyung barked out a laugh. “I’ll do you one better,” he murmured, “I’ll show you where it is.” He finished off with a rakish wink.
“Can I kiss you?” you asked, hands already moving forward to cup his chiseled cheeks and jaw within their grasp.
“Hold on one second,” Taehyung chuckled, peering at you playfully as he looked up at you from where his face was in between your palms. “I gotta do one thing first.”
Taehyung went to remove the metal clamps from your poor neglected nipple that had gone slightly numb from being within its confines this entire time. “My poor Y/N,” Taehyung softened his tone as he rubbed your breast to bring back the feeling. “I’m sorry for not doing this earlier.”
He ducked his head, his plush lips wrapping around the abused peak as he soothed it with warm wet licks and light suction. You let out a high pitched sound and then choked when the cool metal ball on his tongue slinked against your sore nipple as he twirled his tongue around the flesh. He was uncharacteristically gentle though he was spitting against your breast and spreading the welcome coolness around the hard peak.
You let your hands go up to his head, fingers raking themselves into silky soft black waves, holding him into place while he worshiped your chest. Soon, Taehyung switched over to the other breast, enveloping it in the warm wet heat of his mouth, as well. He was much rougher this time as he didn’t have to be careful. His teeth grazed the hard bud, nipping the nipple lightly as you found yourself letting out endless keens.
“Fuck,” muttered Taehyung finally pulling himself away, “How are you this sensitive and responsive? You would’ve had such a rough time with the aftercare if you had gone through with this.”
You shook your head, ignoring his question. “Taehyung!” you whined instead, “I need you.”
Taehyung scoffed lightly as a pleased smirk marked his lips. He ripped the purple gloves off, flinging them onto the side table. 
“Will you let me eat you out, Y/N?” he asked. “I’ve been dreaming of it ever since I saw those snaps on your private story for your 21st birthday.”
Your brows furrowed. For your birthday your friends and you had gone down to Cabo since it was close to spring break. You hadn’t even realized Taehyung was on your private story. Your brother Jimin certainly wasn’t. You had posted everything from videos of you skinny dipping with your friends in the hot tub, to full length mirror selfies of every itty bitty neon colored bikini you had worn on the trip. 
“I’ve had fantasies about you too,” you admitted as Taehyung’s hands slid down your waist to hug your hips, fingers digging into your charcoal gray leggings, ready to pull them off. 
He looked at you curiously, “Since when? Was I your sexual awakening?” he teased, his cheeks full in his joy. You wanted to bite those bread cheeks but you controlled the impulse.
“Hardly,” you retorted, “I was dreaming about Min Yoongi before I ever thought of you. But he graduated and went away for university. And you had that wavy silver brown hair. You looked so hot in your old school hiphop outfit you’d worn for Halloween senior year.”
Taehyung narrowed his eyes, “I was always hot, Y/N. It’s cute of you to deny it. But wow headbands really do it for you huh? Is that why you ran up to your room when we started watching It? I thought it was because you were scared. Had I known that you were sneaking away to shove your hand in your panties–” he trailed off.
“You would have what?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.
Taehyung hit your hip lightly with his fingers, more tap than slap, making you lift your bottom so that he could drag the dark colored athletic fabric down your legs. 
“Why don’t I show you?” Taehyung said. 
With your leggings down to one of your ankles, completely off of the other, Taehyung took a hold of your thighs, swinging your legs around so they hung over the side of the platform you were seated on. You were facing him now, but he was so tall that even with the small boost your seat offered, you were eye level with him. He slid back the stool he was on, moving it out of the way. Then he sank to his knees so that his head was at the perfect height for the treasure that laid between your slightly parted thighs. 
With his left hand still grasping one of your thighs, he used his other hand to prod at your folds over the drenched fabric of your black seamless panties. His forefinger and middle finger stroked at your opening, hunting for your clit, slipping over the sodden fabric over and over. When you were so wet that his fingers went away, picking up enough evidence of your arousal that a transparent string clung to him before finally breaking off, Taehyung decided to move the panty off to the side, revealing the swollen dripping folds of your cunt to him. 
“You’re so pretty, gorgeous,” he sighed, “I want to feast on you.”
His fingers were curiously spreading you even more, parting the furling petals to your entrance, revealing the pretty wet hole to his hot seeking gaze as it desperately clenched around air, wanting something bigger and more substantial to close around.
“Taehyung please,” you pleaded, your fingers knotting into his unruly hair, as you attempted to move his head closer to your cunt.
Taehyung dipped down, his lips pursed at first, almost like he was kissing you down there, but he soon found his pace, tongue wildly thrusting into the hole and gliding over the folds. As he lapped at your entrance, he hummed in pleasure, rejoicing in the sweet poignant taste of you. 
As his tongue ran over your folds and the engorged bud of your clit, you shuddered and trembled. It had been so long since someone had eaten you out. You had been broken up with Donghyuk for two months, but it had been even longer since the last time he had gone down on you. 
He tongued at you curling the tip of his wet muscle to urge more of your juices into his open mouth. You tasted like heaven, “You’re so fucking sweet,” he furiously growled into you, his baritone sending vibrations through your most sensitive part. “I love your reactions. I could eat you out for hours,” he hissed.
When his teeth nipped at the sensitive bundle of nerves, you cried out his name, babbling senselessly, mad with pleasure. He wrapped his lips around it, sucking tightly at the bud. Your eyes rolled back at the pressure, the stimulation almost unbearable. You felt the prodding of two long fingers invading your entrance even as his lips continued its merciless assault on the swollen bud. 
“Taehyung!” you panted. Your fingers were almost digging into his scalp. “I can’t stand this!!”
Your back arched as he scissored his fingers furiously within you. His teeth and tongue were sloppily pursuing their war on your heated and engorged clit.
“That’s it Y/N,” murmured Taehyung huskily, “Give yourself to me.”
His fingers reached deep within you, dragging against your folds that gripped around it like a vise, clenching and unclenching in stuttered movements. He groaned at the tightness, the vibrations of the sound echoing through your opening, your clit fluttering at the stimulus.
“Another finger,” you susurrated, your words chased by loud keens and moans.
“Yeah?” Taehyung breathed out, “You think you can take that? I can barely even move the two I have in you now. Your pussy is clenching around me so much.”
“Want it Tae. Need it,” you babbled, “Need to prep for that big cock you’re hiding.”
Taehyung exhaled loudly through his nose, the gust of air falling over your oversensitized core. “Yeah, you dirty girl? You wanna prep for my fat cock? You need it,” he admitted. “I’m gonna destroy your tight little cunt,” He growled.
With another nip of your clit, this one harsher and more toothy, he stuffed a third finger in you, frantically pumping them and curling them to drag against the taunt muscles of your inner walls. The appendages were stretching you out gloriously. You closed your eyes as you edged head first towards your orgasm. Taehyung’s tongue danced over your folds, stimulating them even further. 
He breathed through his nose as he ate you out even more enthusiastically; he had been going at this for a long time but it would be worth it. His cock was a hard and heavy weight against the confines of his constricting dark jeans. You whimpered, lightheaded and overheated as the pressure at your core continued to build. You were stuffed to the brim with his nimble slender fingers pushing savagely in you. 
All it took was a swipe of his long tongue over your bud, the metal sphere of his piercing a hard heaviness digging into your clit, as his fingers found your g-spot and hit it brutally, and you let out a shrill scream, immediately gushing like a flooding waterfall. There were black dots in your vision as the edges of your eyes gathered with tears. You panted as you continued to squirt over Taehyung’s trapped fingers, drenching his hand with the evidence of your orgasm then trailing down his wrist. 
“Fuck,” swore Taehyung, “You fucking squirted. That’s so hot, gorgeous.”
He reluctantly moved his hand away from you, licking a wide stripe across his palm, tasting your sweetness, still not tired of your delectable release. What he didn’t consume, he wiped against the butcher paper covering where you were seated. You had your hands splayed besides your thighs, needing help to keep yourself upright. Your gaze drifted down to your crotch where the paper was sopping wet, dark, and translucent from where you had squirted all over it. 
This was why you never had sex in public; you were already getting a headache at the thought of Taehyung having to clean up and sanitize everything before his next appointment.
“Hey what’s wrong?” asked Taehyung, getting up from his knees. His hand went to his belt, unbuckling the black leather and loosening it around his hips. He undid his button and zipped open his fly, finally freeing his aching hard cock from the confines it had been resisting against.
You stared at his erection, pressing against the band of his underwear. “Is this really okay?” you asked.
“Going soft on me so fast?” Taehyung teased, “Thought you were gonna prove to Dongkyung that you were fun and freaky. I bet he’s never had sex outside of the bedroom.”
“No,” you protested, “I still want to. I just– I just wanted to make sure you were still okay with this.”
“Oh,” murmured Taehyung with a ravenous glint in his eyes, “I’m thrilled about this. I want to destroy you in a way that has you limping after. I want your pussy to have PDD, never wanting another cock.”
“PDD?” you asked, repeating the acronym with confusion heavy in your tone.
“Post-Dicking Depression,” Taehyung clarified with a faux condescending tone. You could hear the laughter in his voice that he tried to keep in.
“I don’t know if I want to have sex with a man who refers to it as me getting dicked down,” you scoffed, wiggling your butt backwards to move away from Taehyung who scowled and quickly moved his hands from his pants to your hips, holding you in place.
“But you want a dicking from me,” he sing-sang, “You used to have fantasies about me.”
“I used to have fantasies about Flynn Rider, that means nothing,” you retorted, your hands placed over his.
He narrowed his eyes, “That says less about me and more about you, gorgeous.”
He palmed his heavy cock through the cotton fabric of his briefs. 
“You sure you wanna stop right here, Y/N? Don’t wanna go for another orgasm?”
“I can’t leave you hanging,” you acquiesced easily, “Golden rule of reciprocation and all that.”
“You don’t always have to give back what you get in sex,” Taehyung frowned, “It’s not a business transaction, it’s a group effort. As long as we both enjoy ourselves, you don’t have to worry about me, Y/N.”
“You don’t want to have me?” you asked, suddenly self-conscious, “You seemed really enthusiastic about it earlier.”
“I’m dying to have you, but I only want you if you want me,” Taehyung clarified, his baritone wafting into your ears soothingly.
You smiled up at him, even though you were naked in this room that might have his assistant or coworkers knocking at any moment, even though he was completely dressed while you were not, you still felt comfortable with Taehyung. You put your fingers through the belt loops of his partially opened jeans, dragging it down his hips, over his ass, stopping midway on his thighs. Taehyung watched you, his jaw clenched and his eyes hard with the heat of his lust, thick dark brows furrowed as he bit his lips.
“Please, Tae?” you asked, “I want you. I want the heavy fucking that has me walking side to side afterwards.”
Taehyung snorted, “‘4.5 when I make the bed shake,’ huh.”
“Ariana is a legend,” you gasped, outraged at his little quip, your hands falling from where they had been clutching his ass. 
Taehyung just gave you one of his gorgeous boxy smiles that left you breathless before he went to free his fat cock from the cotton confines of his underwear. His cock bounced once it was free from its bounds, his length even more thick and imposing than you had imagined when you were sixteen, slipping your fingers down your throat and choking on them, pretending they were his dick instead. 
It was impressively girthy and you knew your fingers wouldn’t be able to wrap around it and touch at the ends. The mushroom head was flushed burgundy. The seventh piercing winked at you, a curved steel barbell turned towards you as a part of his king’s crown piercing that was threaded through his head, running along the ridge of his shaft. Your mouth watered - the tip of his cock was glistening with precum and you wanted to whirl your tongue around its bulbous head like it was the tastiest lollipop. 
“Taehyung,” you pleaded, your fingers going towards his crotch. 
Taehyung gently slapped your hands away. 
“Uh uh,” he chastised. “Behave, gorgeous.”
You spread your thighs apart, knees up and feet flat in front of you as you sat up with your hands wrapped around your calves, holding your legs open. Taehyung took hold of the meaty softness of your right thigh and pulled you towards him, settling in between you, his cock bouncing lightly, the tip brushing against your entrance as he used his hands to pull your legs around him. Your hands let go and fell backwards and you splayed your fingers and palms behind you to balance your weight as Taehyung carefully situated your lower half, pulling your hips up to be aligned with his so that he could easily slip in and out of you.
He slapped your flushed and swollen cunt with his cock, the proof of your orgasm mixing with his precum. After a few slaps, he finally began to guide his shaft into you. For a moment there you didn’t think the fat bulbous head would be able to breach your entrance even with how wet you were as your tight glistening hole protested around it, but a firm push later he was sheathed. 
“You like that, gorgeous?” he growled, “You feel that? You’re gonna wring me dry when I cum inside, aren’t you? Gonna creampie this fucking pussy. Have your beat up cunt leaking my cum for hours.”
You whimpered as your mouth sought Taehyung’s lips but couldn’t. Instead you found your tongue licking up a line up the bare expanse of his neck, tracing the lines of his tattoos, your lips following their path, leaving bruising kisses and kittenish bites. He moaned and his head ducked down, moving his throat away from you so that you could finally kiss him. At first your tongues twirled around each other, but Taehyung was a messy kisser. His teeth were soon nipping at your lips and his tongue was thrusting in your mouth, licking the insides of your cheeks, the roof of your mouth, not letting you pull away to breath and leaving you lightheaded. 
Taehyung slowly pushed himself in and out, not going more than an inch or two within you, giving you time to get used to the fullness. He was so thick, your walls were clamping around his girthy length like a vise and he was struggling to move, but the movement he was able to make had you keening and whimpering as the round ends of his piercing jewelry dragged against the ridged muscles of your walls, making them spasm uncontrollably at the feeling. 
As you grew wetter and wetter, your desperation increasing exponentially, Taehyung found himself getting lost at the sensations, thrusting faster and more erratically until his control was so frayed that he could no longer hold himself back. He slammed into you, the thick heaviness of his cock stealing your breath away as he was impaled within you. You tried to catch your breath but he continued to jerk inside you, the piercing hitting your g-spot and making you scream as white spots appeared in your vision. 
His pace then grew progressively more frantic and Taehyung found himself holding you up with his sheer strength which left you breathless at the display of power; you were no longer on the table, he was fucking you standing up. Your legs were wrapped around his hips and your head was at the side of his face, pressing kisses against his jaw and nibbling up to his ear. Your moans were an echoing throaty vocalization in his ears, making them burn as a pool of lust gathered in his gut and made his abdomen tighten. Meanwhile, your hands were flitting across the expanse of his back, under his shirt, leaving long scratch marks in their wake as your nails dug into his skin every time Taehyung thrusted a little too hard, his fingers pinched your clit, or his piercing found that glorious g-spot.
“God, Tae,” you panted. You could feel him so deep inside you that as you glanced down you saw that your tummy was bulging a little bit and you had to wonder if it was because of him. You pressed down on your stomach experimentally and then you both gasped as your walls clenched tightly around him, rhythmically pulsating around the entire length of his shaft, keeping him connected to you. 
Taehyung hadn’t forgotten your tiny clit, although it was swollen and not as little now. He thumbed at the responsive bundle of nerves; the pressure from his finger had you on overdrive, hyper aware and feeling like you might go ballistic at any moment. Your mewls were like music to his ears and propelled him forward, making him plunge into you so violently. You were bouncing on his length, your legs loosening slightly around his hips from the force that came with every time he rammed into you.
For your safety, he lowered you down to the table you had been sitting on earlier, making your back flat against it as he had one hand by your head holding him up, keeping himself from crashing into you, and one hand wrapped around your hip, snapping it up to meet his every thrust. The new angle allowed him to go even deeper and he found himself slowing down to enjoy the feeling of your folds fluttering around his shaft as he dragged it through your walls deliberately, penetrating you acutely. 
He was holding himself back, he didn’t want this moment to end but at your surprised cry when one of those thrusts hit your g-spot particularly hard, you suddenly gushed like a broken faucet around him, and then clenched his cock tighter than you had ever before, even as the stream of cum cascaded all around his shaft. He grunted before following you in your wake, the heat of his own release leaking out of his tip and mixing with yours. 
Somehow Taehyung was still hard around you, you noticed with surprise as your legs fell with no strength left in them, no longer making your body cling to Taehyung’s. You stared at him in confusion, your eyes wordlessly saying, What now?
Taehyung licked his lips, his familiar grin appearing sheepishly. “Ride me, gorgeous,” he dictated.
He hadn’t let you remove his cock from inside your pussy and he picked you up, holding you beneath your thighs, his fingers brushing against the cleft of your ass as he moved you two around so that he was now seated with you on top of him. 
One of your hands fluttered against his chest as you got used to sitting on him, the other was holding onto his shoulder. You inhaled deeply, your hands going up to stop his head from moving so that you could kiss him punishingly, neither of you parting to breath for long interminable moments. His fingers threaded through your hair that had long since fallen out of its bun, holding you in place, so that his lips could chase yours easily every time you tried to break apart from him.
He helped you with the first move, his hands gripping your hips and his long fingers dimpling into your skin as he moved you up, almost entirely off his cock that dragged enticingly along your folds as it slipped away, before slamming you back on his lap with enough force to have your teeth knocking against each other. 
You braced yourself with your palms on his chest, fingers curving over the broad length of his shoulders, slowly lifting yourself away from his dick before quickly and forcefully bringing your ass down, reluctant to let him withdraw completely. Each time you brought yourself back onto his cock, Taehyung snapped his hips up, impaling you with his thick impressive length. His fingers were bruising into your hips with how hard he was holding you in place. 
Your movements were erratic and feverish, following no rhyme or reason, only seeking fullness and release. He had you writhing on top of him wantonly as your hips swiveled to meet each snap of his, until his cock was hitting you again and again vigorously. But it wasn’t enough; he wanted to give you more. So Taehyung found himself squeezing two fingers into you alongside his cock, filling you even more than you had thought was possible, bordering on the side of painful. His palm was positioned up so that it was pressed against your clit. And with every bounce and jerk on top of him that had his cock and fingers moving deeper within you, his palm pressed against your puffy bud stimulating you endlessly. 
You screamed as you sprayed around Taehyung, coming again. As you writhed against Taehyung’s body, his arms kept you wrapped in his embrace, keeping you from injuring yourself, pulling any muscles accidentally. Your cunt was reluctant to release its grip on Taehyung’s cock, holding onto him tightly, and he found himself grabbing your hand, borrowing it for a second to have you squeeze his balls. And then Taehyung felt himself cum for the second time that day. He shuddered into your chest as his balls emptied themselves, getting lighter as streams of his warm cum shot into you, painting your insides with lines of white. 
You mewled at the feeling, wiggling on top of Taehyung in discomfort. He chuckled huskily, an airy yet throaty sound. Carefully, he withdrew from you, using one of his hands to keep the cum from pouring out from between your legs, his palm against your entrance keeping the hot liquid trapped inside you. After a moment he moved his palm away so that his fingers could play around in your folds, pushing the cum into every divot and crevice, the pads of his fingers massaging it in and then his fingers went back inside you, swirling the cum around your hole with his fingers messily. You let him play around, rubbing his mark into you even though it was fucking filthy and gross, but when his fingers brushed too close to your battered clit, your inner thighs spasmed with your muscles jumping, you found your hand frantically pulling at his wrists attempting to pull him away from your exhausted and overworked pussy.
“Taehyung, stop!” you whined. 
He glanced back at you sheepishly. “Sorry,” he murmured, an apologetic tone painting his words, “I got distracted.”
You snorted, “Yeah, you did.”
Taehyung pulled you off his lap and sat you down beside him, from in between your parted thighs, your pussy leaked out the mixture of both of your cum out onto the ripped and mangled butcher paper that looked as though it had gone through the wringer. Taehyung stood up to grab a bundle of paper towels from his work station and came back with them, bending down in front of you and starting to clean you up. Once he was done, he looked back up at you.
“I’ll give you back your deposit, Y/N. Don’t get the piercings today, okay?” he said, “And when you finally feel like you’re ready to modify your body for the right reasons, you can come back here and I’ll do it for free. A piercing, a tattoo, whatever the case. Just– just don’t think you have to change for a man. You are perfect as long as you like who you are.”
Your eyebrows dipped down in confusion as Taehyung stumbled over his words, painstakingly attempting to make sure that you understood him and realized that he liked you and you should like yourself too because you were perfect and no man was worthy enough to make you change. 
“Why for free, Taehyung?” you asked instead, uncomfortable at his sincerity.
Taehyung smiled nervously, “Well if you’re dating the owner, it’s the least I can do. Don’t you think so?”
“Who says we’re dating?” you teased, pulling him closer to you, making him stand between your legs.
Taehyung pouted and then huffily said, “Fine, have it your way. See if anyone in the Tri-State area takes you as a client then. I’m getting you blacklisted from everywhere so Jimin doesn’t kill me when he finds out you want to look like Post Malone.”
“Post Malone?” you questioned, laughing uncontrollably. “Taehyung, why would you offer to help me if Jimin would kill you instead of those other tattoo artists?”
“Girlfriends hold more weight than best friends,” he said mulishly, slumping forward and resting his forehead against your sternum.
“Yeah?” you asked, quilting your fingers through his hair, scratching at his head comfortingly.
“I’m also in love with you,” Taehyung confessed, turning his head so his ear rested against your chest. He could hear your heartbeat, you realized with a panic, and how it stuttered at his reveal. But his arms had slowly wrapped themselves around your form and you couldn’t find it within you to push him away.
“Really?” you asked needily, needing the confirmation.
He hummed, “I would do anything for you.”
“I think I’ve been in love with you too,” you admitted as well. You suddenly shoved against him. “It was you,” you accused.
“Hmm,” muttered Taehyung, instantly knowing what you had meant, “I can’t help it if I’m beautiful and you kept fantasizing about me while dating Dongbyun.”
“Tae!”
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This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution - Non Commercial - No Derivatives 4.0 International License
©OPALJM 2021
3K notes · View notes
bratkook · 12 days ago
Text
switch up! (m) jjk.
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banner by @dee-ehn
pairing. bass player!jk x reader  genre. fluff, smut word count. 18k warnings. lotsa kissing, oral sex (m. & f.), sooome spit bc why not, protected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cockwarming?? summary. you would have never expected your shy, innocent art partner to be the man on stage covered in tattoos note. the tags are janky as fuck so if u read and enjoy, pls reblog ! let me refer you to this post of mine that birthed this hannah montana/double life jungkook. he is sweet and lowkey filthy and i love him sm & hope u will too <3, this fic is half plot and half smut to get myself back into writing filth and also to finally give jk a bassist story on my page lol, i’ve been working on this idea since january...writers block has been gnarly as fuck...so please let me know what you think of it hehe ty ilysm (also pls dont ask me for a part two, if i decide to write more for them ill let u guys know<3) taglist. @parkdatjimin , @jimilogy , @cheekychoca , @jjk301 , @marcoazz2 , @girlsforgloss , @fancycollectormoon , @aurevoir-le-bitches , @redbabie17 , @tomotae​ , @heartykoo ,
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The gentle breeze of the wind flows around you, trees rustling above, leaves fluttering down and landing on the blanket you had just meticulously spread out. The red and yellow leaves stand out against the light material, and you’re tempted to just leave them there but your desire to make this perfect has you crawling forward instantly, plucking the leaves and tossing them aside before smoothing out the fabric once more and settling back onto your butt. 
There, that’s better. 
The set up you currently had looked more like a picnic than the original drawing ‘date’ you had arranged. A wooden wicker basket was to your left, full of a variety of snacks and treats for you to munch on while you worked, your art supplies nestled to the side of it. You had almost forgotten them in your haste to leave, too excited about spending time with your art partner outside of class to remember what the actual premise of this was. It doesn’t stand out too much, the giant quad in the middle of your campus was occupied by other couples having similar picnics all around you, so hopefully you can pass this off as no big deal. 
Jungkook definitely doesn’t mind it though. When he approaches the set up you have, dark bag slung over his shoulder and his arms tucked into the pockets of his coat, he smiles as he sees you fidgeting with the edges of the blanket that flutter up with the wind. There's a small pep in his step as he gets closer, the small jitters he always felt while around you creeping up his spine and mixing with excitement. It's the same cocktail of emotions he has swirling in his gut anytime you were near. 
The crunching of leaves grabs your attention, looking up as you rest your bag on a corner to prevent it from flying up again. He eyes the curve of your legs peeking out underneath the plaid skirt you wear, covered in sheer black tights in an attempt to shield yourself from the cooler weather. A blush dusts his cheeks when he meets your gaze and realizes he’s been caught gawking at you like he normally does. 
The smile on your lips as you wave him over only makes him hurry up, taking longer strides until the chunky black shoes on his feet are sticking out against the creme colored blanket. 
“Sorry, am I late?” he wonders, lowering his bag beside yours before slowly sitting down. His all black ensemble swallows him up, the only form fitting article being the turtle neck peeking through his coat. When he adjusts his glasses, looking up at you with a small grimace, you snap out of it and clear your throat. 
“No, I got here a little earlier to set this all up.” You reach for the wicker basket, flipping it open and sliding it in between you so he could get a glimpse of what was inside. “I hope you like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”
Jungkook smiles down at the basket before locking eyes with you once more. “I love them actually. Thanks.” His fidgety hands waste no time pulling out his art supplies, not knowing how to sit in comfortable silence with you beside him, needing to occupy himself to not say anything without thinking. His mind was always whirling whenever you were within close proximity, it was a miracle he could get work done in class with you inches from him. 
You recognize the nervous ticks he has, how his fingers twirl the pencil in his hand as he flips open his sketch pad, how his eyes bounce from your knees back to the paper—too nervous to look up at you again. His toffee brown strands fall over his brows, tips of them resting on the rim of his glasses as they slide down his nose, his finger coming up to push them back up with a scrunch. It’s adorable—he’s adorable—in that sweet boy next door kind of way. 
His soft spoken demeanor and gentle smile was the first thing you noticed months ago when the semester had just started, mentally cheering yourself on for choosing to sit beside him and becoming self proclaimed partners. Jungkook was definitely artistically gifted, not once complaining when you’d lean over to his side and awe at his work, trying to hide his bashful smile as he shrugged off your praise. It was the main reason you weren’t shy to compliment his art, or his outfits, or him in general, just wanting to see the cute way his nose scrunches up and his lips curl into a grin. 
“You look cute and cozy,” you breathe out, staring right at him and smiling when his eyes peer up at you through his glasses. Jungkook has since learned to not expect you to look away, you were far too comfortable with yourself to be embarrassed or bashful. Instead, you continue to give him a once over, small smile on your face when his cheeks blush slightly in a way that can’t be attributed to the cool breeze. 
You can already tell his mind is trying to unscramble a response to your casual compliment but you save him from it with a small sigh, your eyes falling onto his sketch pad instead. “So, how do you want me?”
Jungkook can’t hide his look of shock, his own thoughts taking over before he realizes what you truly meant. His fingers grip the edges of his sketchpad as he clears his throat, smoothing over the paper and looking up at how you were positioned. “Like that’s fine, but however you’re comfortable. I’ll try to work fast so you’re not stuck in this position for long.”
You merely shrug at his comment, delicately placing your hands on your knees and readjusting your legs to the side. “Honestly take your time. I know it’ll look amazing.”
“Yeah, thanks to you,” he mumbles quietly, a sheepish smile on his lips that only makes you smile widely in return. He quickly tries to deflect it by reaching for his pencil and beginning the sketch but you’re having none of that. 
“Was that your way of saying I look amazing?” Your voice is soft, a small fluttering in your stomach at his compliment. Throughout the weeks of knowing each other, in between your harmless flirting, Jungkook had only had the courage to reciprocate it a few times. Each time he did, whether it was saying your hair looked pretty, or you smelled nice, it stuck with you and continued to fuel the gentle crush you have. 
“You always look amazing,” he adds, eyes focused on the light strokes of his pencil, outlining your silhouette in the exact position you were in. Jungkook knew the second you set your sights on him you’d push his train of thought right off the tracks every time you spoke to him, turning him into the shy, stuttering boy he was in highschool. 
He’s grateful that you never push it too far, not knowing if he’d be able to keep up the teasing and compliments while attempting to focus on the project at the same time. Instead you try your best to fight back the smile on your lips, not wanting to mess up what he was currently drawing. 
It really didn’t matter to you how long this took, you’d be more than happy to sit here for hours if it meant you’d be able to have his full attention. It gives you all the time in the world to admire your view, your eyes tracing down the slope of his nose, the outline of his lips when he purses them in concentration, the fluttering of his lashes as his eyes bounce up from the page to glance at you before looking back down to capture any detail he might have missed. 
Jungkook is a silent worker, his style of choice relying too much on intricacy and detail to allow him to focus on anything else. His hands move smoothly across the page, the gentle scraping of his pencil blending in with the rustling of leaves and soft hums he’d let out as he analyzes his work. It’s only when he finishes the general sketch of your face that he looks up at you fully, a proud smile on his lips as he holds up the sketchpad for you to see the progress. 
“Okay, you’re free to talk now.” He must have sensed your desire to spark a conversation, knowing fully well how chatty you were on a daily basis. Jungkook enjoys it though, finding the random questions you’d ask or the simple stories you’d tell him very endearing. Everytime he spoke to you felt like he was flipping the page into another chapter of your life, knowing just a little bit more about you in a way that left him eagerly anticipating the next. 
“Oh that looks amazing already,” you gasp, inching forward a bit to get a better look. It was the bare bones of what would be another one of his masterpieces but what he currently had was still enough to leave you in awe. 
“I still need to add all the heavy details and shading but we’d probably be stuck here all night if I did it now.” 
“We have until next week to turn this in so we can always meet up again in between classes to finish up anything.” The eagerness laced in your words makes him smile, the thought of seeing you once again before today’s date was even over leaving him just as giddy. A shy nod in confirmation is all he gives you before he’s jumping back into the drawing. 
This time however you don’t sit in silence, able to chat away now that the attention was off your face. It lets the time fly by, giggling together as you casually bring up the fact that the campus goose had chased you down earlier and you’d have to find a new route down here because the experience had been slightly traumatic. Your favorite moment however was munching on the sandwiches you brought and carefully feeding him some so his messy fingers wouldn’t ruin his work, his eyes crinkling up in thanks after every bite. 
His boyish laugh makes your cheeks hurt from smiling, something he takes note of as he looks up at you fondly, eyes locking together for a brief moment before the vibration of your phone grabs your attention. It buzzes against your leg, a slew of messages coming in from your best friend, all in varying degrees of distress as she contemplates her outfit choices for tonight. That's when you take note of the time, realizing you were supposed to be on your way to her place already. A quick response saying you’d be there soon is all you send before locking the device entirely. 
“Are you busy tomorrow?” you wonder, peering over to see how much more he had finished of his drawing. 
“I’m free in the morning. Why? Do you have to leave right now?” His doe eyes stare at you in curiosity, twirling the pencil in his grasp while you inch even closer to admire his work once more. He can smell your perfume, the earthy scent of amber warming him up, it reminds him of a rainstorm and he tries his best not to not make it obvious how much he enjoys your close proximity. 
“Yeah, I didn’t realize what time it was. I’m supposed to meet up with a friend right now, but we can finish up our drawings tomorrow.” 
Jungkook fishes his own phone out of his pocket, the bright white numbers letting him know he was also running late to his plans, quickly packing up his supplies as he nods his head. “Do you want to meet here again?”
Despite his rush, he helps you fold up your blanket as you pack up the rest of your things as well, gently tucking it into the wicker basket you brought and handing it over with a cute smile. 
“Yeah, just text me what time and I’ll be here. Bye Jungkook,” you sing out, wrapping an arm around him in a swift hug that makes his heart skip. His own arms envelop you easily, squeezing you tight before pulling away, the two of you going your separate ways with excitement weighing heavy in your chest.
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“He sounds geeky,” Chungha jokes when you finally bring him up to her later that night, your turtleneck, glasses wearing, art loving description painting him in a nerdy light that was very much Jungkook. 
“Shut up, he’s nice.”
“That's always code for ugly.”
You roll your eyes at her jab, but it’s not like she sees it, too focused on lining her lips as she stares at herself in the mirror. A huff escapes you as you fall back onto her bed, arms spread out and your heart still feeling light from the time spent with him. Your lips roll together as you hold in the small squeal you want to release when you remember the way his cheeks had bulged out while you fed him the sandwich, how his tongue would peek out to swipe at any of the jelly on his lips. Jeon Jungkook was the definition of cute, Chungha had no idea what she was talking about. 
“He’s actually really cute Chungha,” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you sit back up, watching as she fluffs her hair out before turning to look at you with an unconvinced stare. 
“Yeah, I’m sure he’s adorable. Hurry up and put some lip gloss on or something.” She reaches forward, grabbing a tube of gloss and tossing it at you with a chuckle. 
“Where are you dragging me to tonight?” you wonder, hauling yourself up to approach her brightly lit mirror. She has a prideful smile on her wine colored lips when she sees you doing exactly what she said, shooting you a thumbs up when you set the lipgloss into your bag once complete. 
“This club downtown. Cherin told me they play good music, and I’m in the mood to dance and make questionable decisions with cute boys.” You know she’s being serious too, the mischievous glint in her eyes and the way she adjusts her boobs in her top show you that much. When her finger comes up to poke at your own boobs you gasp and swat her hand away, cupping your tits with a glare. “Bring the girls out!”
“No, this top is cute.” She pokes at them once more, an evil laugh filling the air when you lift up your shirt to cover the small bit of cleavage showing. Thanks to your poor time management skills, it's the same outfit you wore earlier with Jungkook. Perfect for a cute day time drawing date, apparently not perfect for Chungha’s nightly activities. 
“At least take the tights off to show some skin.” She claps when you grumble under your breath as you once again do what she says, toeing off your heeled shoes and yanking the sheer material off your legs, balling it up before tossing it at her face. 
“Happy?”
“Partially, but I’ll manage. C’mon let’s go.” You know she desperately wants to force you to wear something a tad more revealing but she bites her tongue, keeping any more comments to herself the entire way to the club. And once you step into the crowded space, she’s too focused on trying to score free drinks to even think of saying anything else. 
You follow close behind her, eyes scanning the interior, trying to make everything out in the dim lighting. This isn’t like the usual places you go to on your nights out, the atmosphere differs greatly from the typical clubs where the bass was heavy and the flashing lights were blinding. Instead a stage was placed in the far end, low to the ground with a good crowd of people surrounding it as a group in rhinestone covered shirts played music. Suddenly, you’re grateful you had kept your earlier outfit on, the atmosphere in here being more laid back than you had anticipated. 
“Did Cherin tell you this was a music venue?” you speak into Chungha’s ear with a laugh, grabbing the shot glass she passes your way. The boy beside her looks a little offended when she completely turns away from him to talk to you, deeming him unnecessary after he bought you both drinks. 
“No, but I like the vibe. Plus, look around, there's plenty of options for you to choose from.” Her elbow nudges into your side obnoxiously before she throws back her shot, eyes screwed up as she makes a face at the taste. You mimic her actions, licking your lips as you look around at all of the options you apparently have. The two of you were pros at this, jumping from club to club, getting free drinks and a handful of new numbers added to your phone before the night was over and you were taking someone home. It’s what you did best, it was harmless fun that made for great stories, but as you analyze the crowd around you, no one catches your eye, your flirtatious abilities having been drained after the day spent with Jungkook. The only thing you want to do tonight is loosen up and enjoy the music filling the space up. 
“Go work your magic and get us more drinks,” you deflect her suggestion, laughing when her eyes switch back over to predator mode as she searches for the next sucker to buy her alcohol. 
You’ve learned a long time ago to never underestimate your best friend’s ability to get what she wants, only further proven when she manages to get you comfortably buzzed without ever taking her wallet out. By now the crowd of people have begun to move around as the band starts to play covers of popular songs, you and Chungha nestled in between them as you dance along to the music. It's a mess of limbs and raspy voices as a huddle of drunk girls joins you both, horribly singing along to the 80’s pop cover filling up the space. 
It’s not until she sneaks away once more to grab yet another drink that your bladder finally throws up a white flag in surrender for you to take a break. The pout on her face makes you giggle as you slowly leave her in her spot, sliding between people and following the glowing neon sign that leads you to the bathroom. Stumbling into the surprisingly vacant restroom and into a stall has you realizing you’re a little past buzzed. The checkered floor seems to fuzz together and the dark green stall doors begin to sway as you rest your elbows on your thighs and laugh to yourself. 
“Oh god,” you groan with a smile, rubbing your cheeks with your cold fingers. “No more drinks.” It’s honestly in your best interest, you and Jungkook were set to get together tomorrow morning to finish up your projects and there's no way you could allow a hangover to put a damper on it. 
With a lot of fumbling, you exit from the stall, catching sight of your reflection on the mirror above the sinks. The gloss coating your lips has long since wiped off on the glass of the drinks Chungha was feeding you, and that just wouldn’t do. Reaching into your side bag, you pull out the cherry scented gloss you had swiped from your best friend's counter, uncapping it and giving your lips a generous swipe before deeming yourself ready to re-enter the scene outside the bathroom doors. 
“What took you so long?” Chungha groans, manicured hand gripping your arm as she pulls you back into the crowd of people. “You almost missed the babes on stage.”
“Babes?” you snort. “I don’t think the men in bedazzled shirts count as babes.”
“Not them! Them.” She points up at the stage now, your eyes following her finger and spotting the new group that had taken over, just barely setting themselves up. The dreamy sound of her voice has you turning back at her before you get a good look at the members, gripping her cheeks to get her to look at you instead of drooling over them. 
“Nuh uh, you made me promise to never let you mess around with any band guys again after the last one!”
“But c’mon, look at them. The lead singer looks like he can slap me and call me a good girl.” That compels you to take a look for yourself, spotting the man gripping the microphone as he smiled into the crowd, a black striped shirt loosely buttoned down his chest. He was totally her type, which meant you had to drag her out of here asap before she was somehow shimmying her way to the front and tossing her bra at him. 
“I gotta get to the front. Its fate,” she announces, already attempting to slip her way past the tightly packed crowd. 
“That’s not fate, Chungha,” you laugh, gripping her arm tighter to prevent her from moving. The last time Chungha had gotten involved with a self proclaimed rockstar she went on a downward spiral and was fully convinced she needed to shave her hair, so really you’re doing her a favor here. 
“Why not?” she huffs, eyes squinting up at the stage to see the rest of the members. “Take your pick of the rest of the band, the drummer’s cute!” 
A quick glance lets you see the bright orange haired man sitting behind the drums, twirling the sticks around with a giant smile as he spoke to the singer. He was cute, but not enough for you to aid your best friend on her quest. “Not my type.” 
“Fine. The guitarist has big hands, I know your ass likes that.” The man stood to the right had a dangerously unbuttoned shirt just barely clinging on, long black hair framing his face perfectly. But the sharp look in his eyes as he scans the crowd makes you avert your sight immediately. 
“I’m pretty sure he would ruin my life, like instantly.” 
“What about the bass player?” She continues on, going down her list until hopefully one of them sticks enough for you to loosen your grip on her arm. 
“Oh my god Chungha, drop it,” you scoff, but your curiosity has already been piqued, wondering if he was just as attractive as the other members. The man in question has his back to the crowd now as he adjusts the straps of his bass before beginning to fiddle with the instrument. 
As he wanders to the left side of the stage your eyes follow him, dark strands of hair covering his face as he stares down at his fingers. Thick silver chains hang off his wrist, veiny hands curling around the neck of his bass, bold lines of ink trailing up from the silver bracelets before getting cut off by the cuffed sleeve of his dark patterned button up. 
He was definitely your type. 
And as you follow the trail up his arms, to the chains around his neck, tracing the dark lines that barely touch the edge of his throat, and the soft curve of his lips when he finally looks up, you can’t help but feel like he looks oddly familiar. Until suddenly, the similarities are a little too strong to chalk up to pure coincidence. 
“Oh my god,” you whisper out, blinking harshly when you don’t believe your eyes. Maybe it was the alcohol sloshing in your stomach and making your vision all wonky, but the man who has the bass hanging low on his hips looks far too much like your art partner. The similar shade of brown hair on his head is swooped back instead of covering his forehead the way it always did, but that adorable bucktooth smile you had a soft spot for is the clear indicator that it was him. If that didn’t tell you as much, the wide doe eyed look on his face as he faces the crowd is the giant sign that lets you know Jeon Jungkook from art class has a double life. 
Did he really have a double life? Not likely. But the stark contrast in his appearance had you thinking this was some Hannah Montana moment and you would have to take this secret to the grave. 
“Oh you liked the bassist huh?” Chungha cackles, success coursing through her veins when she realizes she might get her chance tonight. 
Okay maybe you could tell Chungha the secret too. 
“Shut up, that's him!”
“Who?” 
“Jungkook, the geek from my art class.” When she snorts in disbelief you slap her arm with force, ignoring her wince of pain. “On bass, the one covered in tattoos.”
“Oh shut the hell up.”
“I’m serious,” you whine.
“You said he was cute, not fucking sexy! He’s in a band?!” she shouts in a fit, ready to bombard you with questions before you cut her off with a plea. 
“We gotta go, I’m not sober enough to not make a fool out of myself in front of him.” Put Jungkook beside you in class, with his turtleneck and glasses, and you could flirt with him until his cheeks were red. But put him on stage where he's glowing, covered in ink, with an aura of confidence surrounding him, and you will go down way too fast for your dignity to survive. 
“What no, why?”
“Because—“
“Because what? You already told me you think he’s cute, how he gets all nervous around you, and now that you see him up there looking all fucking glorious you wanna run? No, babe this is fate.”
“This is not fate!” 
It’s uncharacteristically chicken for you to want to scram before you’re spotted, almost as if you were doing something you should be ashamed of instead of just enjoying a night out with your best friend. But your mind could not get itself out of the gutter, and all your thoughts were scrambled together to form some lewd visual of your cute art partner—who was currently chugging water like his life depended on it—spitting that exact water onto you. You had to go. Now. 
“You know the band, so I have a way in. Seems like fate to me.” Chungha sports a sly smile on her face, eyebrows wiggling at you as she tries to pry your hand off her arm a final time, giggling when you loosen your grip. 
“Oh you bitch, you’re pushing this for your own benefit.”
“Of course I am, but who are we to deny fate. Now we gotta get closer so you can get his attention and go fuck him in the bathroom!” 
You have absolutely no intention of fucking your art partner in the bathroom of this venue, but this version of Jungkook on the stage has you second guessing yourself. That’s not something you admit to Chungha though, because she will hold on to that and use it to guide every reckless decision she chooses to make tonight. Instead, you allow her to shimmy her way to the front with her free hand clasped to yours, no apologies sent to the girls she shoves out of the way. 
The band must have a good name for themselves judging by the people surrounding you, popular in this scene of music because the second the drums kickstart the first song everyone surges forward and screams in excitement. Chungha doesn’t care that she doesn’t know a single song, her eyes peering right up at the singer, just wishing and waiting for the right interaction to hook him. You were doing a slightly better attempt at pretending like you knew the music, bobbing your head along to the beat, but your own eyes were locked onto Jungkook. 
The loose fabric of his shirt flows around as he plays, slightly falling off his shoulder and revealing more of his tattoos to you, only making your brain short circuit some more. Why was it so hard for your mind to morph the cute and bashful Jungkook you were with earlier with the one you were currently staring at. This definitely had to be a sick dream, or maybe you were blackout drunk still in the bathroom stall you had walked into earlier. That had to be the only explanation to this. 
It’s something you believe, and sort of make peace with, until Jungkook scans the crowd with a smile and his eyes land on you. It’s a brief second before he moves on, but then the realization hits him and he’s double taking, the smile never leaving his face while he tries to make out that it's really you underneath the occasional flash of light. There’s a curious tilt to his head, his fingers never missing their spot on his instrument as the band goes through their songs, but he edges closer. 
He doesn’t look off put at seeing you—which makes you feel less guilty about discovering his double life—instead he looks proud, the twinkle in his eye sparkling when you finally smile back at him. That small interaction is just one of many, his eyes naturally gravitating to you throughout the set, almost as if he was double checking that you were actually there and weren’t just a figment of his imagination. 
As the band takes their first break, the singer panting into the microphone as he scans the crowd with a smile, Jungkook crouches down to grab his water. Your eyes are glued to him as he throws his head back and tilts the bottle, letting the liquid pour into his open mouth before he’s capping it once more, long fingers swiping at his lips to catch the stray drops. 
“It’s always nice to see a full house here On the Rox.” The crowd cheers at that, Chungha doing the most as she screams louder, successfully catching his attention as his eyes drop down to her. Your hands have to clasp around her shoulders to prevent her knees from giving out on her as he smirks. “I see a lot of pretty faces here tonight.”
Damn Chungha and her love of fate. 
“A lot of new faces here too,” another voice cuts into the space, and you recognize this one. Your eyes gravitate towards the left side of stage once more, locking onto Jungkook’s stare as he smiles at you before looking at the rest of the crowd. “If this is your first time seeing us tonight, I hope you enjoy it.”
“And if you’ve seen us before, make sure you give the newcomers some love.” The guitarist speaks now, his wavy black hair being raked off his face as he runs his fingers through it. The pick in his hand glides across his guitar with ease, a random chord playing through the speakers. “We got a couple songs left, are you ready?” 
The crowd cheers in response, Jungkook chuckling into the mic as he grips it, the silver chains dangling off his wrist. “You can do better than that. Are you ready?” His voice is strong, booming through the amps and getting the reaction they craved, everyone screaming as loud as they could. His lips spread out into a proud smile, and it’s impossible to look away from him. You’d never seen him like this before, but you can’t deny that confidence suits him, bathes him in this light that has your palms going clammy as he stares at you again. 
The sound of the next song rolling through barely registers within you as you snap out of it, pressing your forehead against your friend to collect yourself slightly before you’re able to look back up. It’s a blur of sounds and lights as their set progresses, you and Chungha loosening up enough to move around with the crowd as they play with their hearts. Jungkook continues to creep closer to you, never close enough to make it obvious but it makes your heart race each time he inched forward before wandering to the opposite side to interact with the crowd. 
You don’t even realize it’s coming to an end until the last note fades out and the lights dim, the low lighting in the place just barely showing you their silhouettes as they make their way off the stage. Chungha’s sighing dramatically the second the lights come back up, turning around to face you now that her eye candy was missing. 
“God they’re hot and talented. Do you have his number?” 
“Yeah, I do,” you mumble out, still in a daze as you slowly make your way through the huddle of people, eagerly anticipating the next group to take over and keep the party going. You needed a drink, maybe some water to quench the thirst you had growing inside of you. 
“Text him then, let him know you’re here.”
Jungkook definitely knew you were here, but maybe texting him wouldn’t be so bad. As you both get to the bar, Chungha ordering some water while you pull your phone out, someone settles in beside you in a haste. You don’t notice them at first, their palm resting on the bar top inches away from you, but when they tap their finger onto your shoulder they grab your attention. A quick glance to the side has you locking your phone instantly, forgetting the half written text meant to be sent to the man beside you. 
“Jungkook,” you breathe out, eyes wide and mouth drying up. Seeing him this close like that was so much harder than it was on stage. He’s still catching his breath from playing, ordering himself water to cool down. The tips of his hair have curled up, raked away from his face as he swipes it back, but when his nose scrunches up into a smile it brings you back to the earlier date today and the way he’d laugh at your stories. 
“I knew that was you, I just had to come make sure.” Jungkook chuckles, looking down at you with crinkled eyes. It's the first time you’ve seen him without his signature frames on, their absence opens up his face more, and you find yourself not able to maintain the normal eye contact you have with him without them on. 
“I was just about to text you to make sure you didn’t have a twin or something,” you laugh, hands fidgeting on the countertop, reaching for your water and taking a gulp. Chungha gently nudges your side, not able to contain herself as she sips her own water, trying her best to not look like she's eavesdropping. 
“No, I definitely don’t.” His voice blends in with the starting music of the next group that takes the stage. “We play On the Rox pretty often. I didn’t know you came here.”
“It’s my first time here actually. Our friend told us about this place.” You point at Chungha, holding in a laugh when she quickly inserts herself into the conversation, reaching her arm across to greet Jungkook with a handshake and a charming smile. 
“Hi, I’m Chungha. Is your lead singer single by any chance?” A snort escapes you at how forward she is, your hand coming up to cover the growing smile on your face when you notice the way Jungkook’s eyes widen at how unexpected her question is. 
He recovers quickly with a small laugh, his eyes looking over the both of you to scan the room, trying to find the blonde man in question. Jungkook spots him easily, waving him over with a knowing smile. “He is actually.”
“Score,” Chungha whispers low enough for you to hear, fluffing up her hair and adjusting her tits in her shirt before her eye candy approaches, the both of you turning around to face him. 
“Hey Yoongi, just wanted to introduce you to some people.” Jungkook rests his hand on your shoulder gently as he speaks to the singer, a soft smile on his face as he stands close. “This is Y/N.”
At the mention of your name Yoongi’s smile widens, his eyes looking up at Jungkook for a moment before locking onto you as he extends his hand out in greeting. “So you’re Y/N. Glad he finally invited you to a show.”
Jungkook clears his throat loudly, the two of them having a mental conversation that leaves Yoongi looking a little sheepish as he presses his lips together. It doesn’t take much guessing to know that he said something he shouldn’t have, exposing the fact that Jungkook obviously talked about you enough to have his friends hassle him into inviting you to a show. 
You hold back any teasing comment you might have as you nod along, barely able to say that it was nice to meet him before Chungha was swooping in for the kill and introducing herself. “Can I buy you a drink?”
Kim Chungha buying someone a drink, with her own money? She was down bad. 
With Yoongi’s attention gravitating towards your friend, it leaves you and Jungkook seemingly alone. His hand still rests on your shoulder, something he seems to realize as he slowly slides it down your arm before it comes to rest by his side. You grow to miss his touch instantly, subtly stepping a bit closer to him to close the small distance until your arm is gently pressed against his own.  
Jungkook smiles as he stares at you, noticing the uncharacteristically shy smile on your lips, how you can’t maintain eye contact, choosing to trace the petals crawling up his shoulder towards his neck instead. For the first time, he feels like he has the upper hand and he takes slight advantage of it, slyly tugging at his shirt to expose more of the tattoos he had somehow managed to keep under wraps this whole time, enjoying the way your lips press together as you avert your gaze when you know you’ve been caught staring. 
“Do you want a drink?” Jungkook breaks the silence, leaning back onto the bar top. 
“No, I'm trying to sober up, I don’t want a hangover tomorrow morning,” you laugh out, pressing your palm to your warming cheeks as you smile. If you added more alcohol to your system you could only imagine what your unfiltered self would blurt out in front of him. Your slightly buzzed self was already struggling to keep yourself together around him, you know all it would take was another shot for you to bring up how good he looked all sweaty on stage. 
“Were you guys planning on staying here all night?” he wonders, absentmindedly playing with the thick chains around his wrist. 
At his question you glance over at your friend and hum, seeing her and Yoongi huddled close as they spoke. The plan of action was usually hopping around clubs and bars until one stuck, but judging by the way she’s playing with the singer’s hair, it's safe to say she wouldn’t be going anywhere without him tonight. 
“We were but I think Yoongi hooked her already,” you chuckle, setting down your empty glass with a smile. “Do you usually stay here all night after you play?”
“Sometimes, but for the most part I end up at the convenience store down the street to stuff my face with ramen.”
“Oh that sounds good,” you hum, hands coming to pat at your stomach as you smile. The thought of slurping down warm ramen at the end of the night was enough to excite you, add Jungkook to the mix and it would be the perfect scenario to wrap up your night. 
“Do you wanna go, or do you think your friend will miss you?” he jokes, flicking his head in her direction, a smirk spreading on his face when he sees the way Yoongi’s staring at Chungha. 
“Definitely not. I’ll bet you a packet of cosmic brownies that she won’t even notice if I leave right now.” 
Jungkook does in fact get you a packet of cosmic brownies the minute you step into the convenience store, the two of you able to leave and walk all the way here without Chungha sending you a frazzled text. You know she’ll be beyond occupied with Yoongi until tomorrow morning, but Jungkook was good company so you’re not exactly opposed to the direction this night has gone in. In all honesty, being across from him as he slurps up steaming ramen, sitting on squeaky plastic chairs, illuminated by the light that filters out of the window a few feet away, beats stumbling drunk from bar to bar—for tonight at least. 
“It’s kind of alarming that neither of our friends noticed we left,” Jungkook laughs, wiping his mouth with a napkin before he's scooping up more noodles. 
You join in with his laughter, finally deeming your own noodles ready, opening up the flap to let all the steam billow out into the cool night. “Yeah, I’m gonna turn this into a life lesson for her tomorrow, but I'll let her enjoy her night.”
Jungkook hums suddenly as his phone vibrates on the table, eyes narrowing slightly as he reads the message he just recieved, his lips pulling into a smile until he’s laughing again and shaking his head. “My other bandmates just noticed my disappearing act, but only because I left before we packed up our things.”
“Oh,” you sit up straighter, “do you need to head back to help them?” You’re already gathering your things, ready to abandon your warm meal to leave. It’s not until Jungkook reaches across the table, his large palm coming to rest over your own, that you come to a pause, curious eyes looking at him and seeing the spark of humor written on his features. 
“No, it's fine. Taehyung, our guitarist, owes me for the amount of times I’ve loaded up his gear. They’ll be okay without me.” His voice is laced with reassurance, the weight of his hand lingering on top of yours for a moment longer. A smile spreads on his face as you turn your hand over in his grasp to gently wrap your fingers around his palm, thumb softly running over his knuckles before pulling away to allow yourself to eat your meal once more. 
“So, when did you guys start this band?” you ask with a small clear of your throat, leaning closer over the table to scoop some noodles into your mouth. Jungkook chuckles as you slurp them up, quickly sliding over a napkin when he spots the lingering noodle on the corner of your mouth. 
“They started the group a few years ago but I didn’t join until last year. I was roommates with Yoongi at the time and their original bass player quit so I filled in for a few shows as a favor until they found a replacement.” He stops for a moment to slurp up his own noodles, eyes staring off into the empty street as he chews before they fall onto you again, seeing the look of endearment clear on your face. “I never really wanted to be in a band, but once I joined them on stage and got to feel the rush of playing somewhere other than my bedroom, I was hooked.”
“So did they even try to find a replacement or was that just their way of luring you in?” 
Jungkook playfully scoffs at that, tongue prodding at his cheek as he straightens up in his seat, eyebrows cocking up in a way that makes you giggle. “My raw talent was all they needed to see for them to forget about trying to get a replacement.” He can barely finish his sentence before he’s laughing, the small burst of confidence morphing into the same bashfulness he’d have when you’d gush over his art pieces. The small slivers of his personality, the one you’re familiar with, help ease your silly nerves from earlier, replacing the jitters of the unknown with the airy feeling that came from being around him. 
“I mean, am I wrong? We have to be sort of talented if you actually stayed and watched.”
“Can I be honest?” you mumble out, a wry smile on your face that instantly makes his expression drop. 
“Oh god, did we really suck?”
“No!” you laugh, cheeks warming up when you see the way he’s looking at you, eyes wide with worry. “You guys were great, honestly, but I sort of panicked when I saw you up there and almost left before you could spot me.”
His laugh fills the air now, teasing and playful, not being able to fathom you doing that. “What, why?”
Without the earlier alcohol clouding your thinking, you’re able to feel the tinge of embarrassment creep up on you. Jungkook only laughs louder when you pick up your chopsticks and try to hide your shame by stuffing your face with more noodles. It doesn’t work, he’s as patient as ever as he sits back with his arms crossed, staring you down until you have no choice but to give him an answer. 
“Look, I was a little tipsy so when I saw you on stage looking like that, I kinda just chickened out and wanted to leave because I thought I would embarrass myself if you saw me.” 
Jungkook is a little too humble to know what you mean, not realizing that seeing him on stage in all his glory compared to the version of him you were used to had given you whiplash. He also can’t imagine a situation where you’d be the one embarrassing yourself, the amount of times he’s been caught in the act of admiring you, having your voice snap him out of his daydreams was enough to make him nervous about being around you. But you being on the opposite end wasn’t even a thought for him. 
“Is that why you’ve been acting like this?” A smile tugs on his lips when you look down at your empty bowl, no longer able to use your food as a distraction. He finds it endearing, deciding to pick up one of the steamed bun cakes he got and passes it your way, a soft smile pushing out his doughy cheeks when you accept it. 
“Like what?” You’re feigning ignorance now, hating that he had been able to detect your change, no matter how small. 
“Quiet, looking all shy. I’m used to being the flustered one,” he admits, recalling all the moments he would stumble over his words. The way you couldn’t make eye contact earlier, how wide your eyes were when he approached you at the bar, it seemed like your brain was fumbling as you tried to respond to him. It’s a stark contrast to the way you’d interact with him in class, confident gaze never failing in making his heart stutter in his chest. The tables have turned slightly, evening out the playing field because he can see the effect he has on you so clearly now. “Who knew all it would take was me holding a bass to have you switch up on me.”
“It’s not you playing the bass that got me like this,” you chuckle, smiling when he takes a bite of his bun, one side of his cheek bulging as he chews it. “I was just a little surprised by all of this.” Your hand motions to his arms and neck, giggling when he extends both arms out and flips them over like he has no idea what you’re talking about, playful frown on his lips when he stares at the dark ink on his arms. 
“These? They’re temporary tattoos, don’t let them fool you. I did them right before the show so they’d look fresh.” He’s full of shit, you can tell by the way he rubs his arms, the ink settled into skin, no sheen or obscene brightness that came with fake tattoos. The smirk he wears doesn’t let you believe it for a second, his hand coming up to tug at his shirt like he had earlier, sneakily showing you the tattoo you had seen crawling up his neck, being able to make out the lines more clearly outside of the dim club. 
“Oh really?” you laugh, nudging his leg under the table with your foot as he snickers, nose scrunched up while he adjusts his shirt once more and settles his arms on the table. He reaches across to give your curious eyes a better view, palms outstretched until his fingers meet yours. A small shiver racks his body as your fingers trace along his skin, eyes looking up at him for permission, and when he softly nods you slowly inch up past his wrist to make out the art on his body. Each piece is connected, woven into the next so intricately you could tell he had properly planned it out. Whether they had meaning or not, it was clear Jungkook had put a lot of thought behind it all. The proud smile on his lips never falls as you make your way up his arm, tracing flower petals, the intricate scales of a snake, the billowing clouds that get cut off when his shirt sleeve tightens around his arm too much for you to push up. 
“Why do you hide them?” you question softly, feeling the need to whisper as you continue to analyze the art of his other arm, the continuity of his previous sleeve was missing here, each piece being its individual work of art instead of telling a story, thick lines of traditional flash being easier to trace with your finger. 
Jungkook visibly shivers as you pass his elbow ditch, moving on to the reaper he had on his forearm. “I don’t hide them on purpose,” he mumbles, growing to enjoy the slight ticklish feeling of your fingers on his skin, hoping you continue to admire his tattoos to keep the contact with you. “I only ever wear short sleeve shirts during the summer, or on stage because it gets hot up there. But the weather has been cold lately and I enjoy layering up. I promise I’m not trying to disguise myself.”
That much was true, Jungkook was always wearing hoodies or oversized long sleeves that concealed his arms and considering the tattoo on his neck was barely creeping over his collar it’s not a shock you never noticed it before. 
“Are you sure? Seems like you’re trying to live a double life to me. I kinda dig it tho,” you giggle, smiling when he looks over at you with raised eyebrows, a spark evident in his eyes as he perks up. You’re fiddling with his bracelet now, slowly making your way down to his palms when Jungkook lifts them up and intertwines your fingers together. 
“Oh yeah?” His smile widens when you give his palm a gentle squeeze, the warmth of his skin making your stomach flip as you stare into his eyes. 
“Yeah,” you sigh. “Adorable artist by day, sexy rockstar by night.”
“I’m not a rockstar,” he snorts, his thumb softly rubbing your knuckles. 
“But you agree, you think you’re sexy?” And there it was, the familiar words and confident gaze Jungkook was accustomed to seeing from you. You inch closer, head tilted slightly with a teasing smile on your lips, playfulness written all over your features. 
“I thought I was cute,” he shoots back, eyes crinkling as he recalls all the times you’d call him that, playfully pinching the strands of his hair in class when they’d cover his eyes, muttering the compliment each time he’d smile at you, just loud enough for him to hear and blush at but you had yet to call him sexy until tonight. 
“You’re both, it’s the best of both worlds.”
“I’ll take it,” he laughs, wanting to get even closer to you, scooch his chair over or flip the table out of the way entirely but he decides that's a little too much, content sitting here despite the dropping temperature. The chill of autumn is more noticeable now as you sit here, no longer warmed up by the meal you had earlier, it's evident in the goosebumps that trail up Jungkook’s arms and the shiver you release with a small laugh. 
“Do you live far from here?” It’s an innocent question in theory, exactly the way Jungkook takes it as he shakes his head in response. 
“No, my place is pretty close actually. Do you?”
“I don’t live too far either. If you want, we can walk to mine or take a taxi if you’re too cold.”
“I don’t mind walking you home.” He smiles and you can’t find it in yourself to be upset that he hadn’t caught on to the fact that you were inviting him over. You wanted to spend more time with him, preferably outside of the cold, but the additional minutes spent on your walk would be good enough until you could see him tomorrow morning. 
The innocent question of yours doesn’t fully register as he cleans up the table, not even as you share bites of your cosmic brownie with him before leaving. The gears in Jungkook’s head finally click a few minutes into the walk, hands laced together as you make your way up the sidewalk, making soft conversation. It’s not like he wasn’t well versed with girls, but more often than not he needed a little more straightforwardness to get himself to kick into action. So as you near his block, shoulders brushing together in an attempt to keep warm while you share hushed laughter, Jungkook decides it’s his chance to make a move. 
It’s not until your body shivers and you jokingly say you should have taken a taxi that Jungkook speaks up. “My place is down the street.” He slows his pace, pointing down the road with his thumb when you stare up at him. “Do you want to come over to warm up?”
Your place isn’t much further, and you know that going over to his would only mean you’d be walking home later in even colder weather, but you were not going to turn this down. As Chungha so kindly put it, this is fate, and you don’t fuck with fate. 
Jungkook stares down at you with his top teeth nibbling on his lip, looking a little nervous for asking, hoping he hadn’t come across as sleazy when that wasn’t his intention. But he tries to keep cool, knowing that just because you come in doesn’t mean anything would happen. But what if something did? It makes his skin tingle and his heart hiccup, moreso when your thumb gently rubs against his knuckles, squeezing his palm in reassurance. And then you’re muttering out a response with a sweet smile on your lips, “Sure, I’d love to.”
He hears the giggle you let out as he freezes momentarily, snapping out of it with a smile before turning down the street and leading you towards his place. There's a subtle pep in his step that you take note of, biting back a smile as you hold his hand a little tighter, walking a little faster to get out of the cold as his building approaches. Jungkook doesn’t release your hand as he enters his code, not even as you step into the elevator, riding up to his floor in comfortable silence. He only lets go once you step foot into his actual place, mainly because you start to step away, your curiosity making you want to take his place in. 
It’s a cozy studio apartment, walls covered like a gallery full of different pieces of art mixed in with music posters in differing sizes. His bed is pushed towards the corner by a window, enough space to allow a nightstand on one side and his desk on the other, overflowing with his art supplies. His sketchpad is laid out on it, opened on the drawing of you he had started earlier today, a little more detail on it than before, letting you know he had come home and worked on it some more before going out. 
“Do you want something to drink? I can make coffee, or anything warm.” His voice grabs your attention, turning to see him approaching his kitchen counter, a soft smile on his face as he allows you to snoop. 
“Coffee would be great.” It’s warmer in his apartment, his heater slowly filling up the space to a comfortable temperature, but you could never deny caffeine. 
He occupies himself by filling up the kettle, turning his head to glance over his shoulder and see the way you make your way over to the other corner of his place. He has a full set up in this corner, a record player with speakers on either side placed on top of a storage unit that holds records and CDs, his bass resting on a stand beside it. It’s different from the one he wore on stage, this one was a shade of blue and white with a few stickers placed on the back of it, a little rough around the edges from use, not the shiny black one he had on earlier. When he catches you staring at it he makes his way over to you, watching how your fingers gently trace the neck of it with a smile. 
“This is the first bass I bought as a teenager so I keep it safe here.” 
“So you won’t be smashing this on stage anytime soon then?” you joke, staring back at him with a smirk as you step away from the instrument and move closer to him. 
“I’ll save that for when I’m an actual rockstar, and definitely with a bass that’s not as cherished as that one.”
“Is that what you want to do?” you wonder, curious to know where Jungkook ranked his love for music and being on stage. He was so very clearly gifted with artistic ability, being able to transform simple images on paper into something astounding, but maybe that wasn’t what he actually craved from life. 
“Nah, I don’t think so,” he sighs, his eyes staring at the walls surrounding you, bouncing from the works of art to the bands he had tacked around. “If that's how it plays out I’m not against it because I really do enjoy it, but it's more of a hobby for me. Making a career out of my art is all I’ve ever thought about doing since I was young and my heart has never strayed from it. What about you?”
“I don’t know,” you sigh. “I love art, but I don’t think I’d love it if I had to use it to make money. Maybe if I thought I had more potential with it I’d pursue it more seriously. Until then, I’m okay with filling my units up with art labs, I mean it landed me with you as a partner so I think it's going pretty well.” 
Jungkook doesn’t even try to hide his smile at your words, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck as he laughs softly. His eyes never leave yours as you step closer to him, fingers reaching out to toy with the material of his shirt, tracing the pattern of it before fiddling with the buttons. The beating of his heart is felt in his throat as he swallows, rattling in his chest so loud he wonders if you could hear it, decides to speak to mask it just in case. 
“You have potential,” he chokes out in a whisper, hands clenching at his sides when you slide your palms up, smoothing over his shirt until you reach the collar. A shaky breath is exhaled into the air when your fingers gently touch the tattoo on his neck, finally able to admire it up close, appreciating the detail put into the petals of the chrysanthemum. Jungkook cranes his neck out to give you more space, enjoying the soft touches too much to pull away. 
“Pretty,” you murmur, too lost in your thoughts to realize you had uttered it outloud but Jungkook hears it perfectly thanks to your close proximity and it makes his skin warm up. 
“You’re the one with potential.” You inch back a bit to stare up at him, the earlier effect he had on you long gone now that you were comfortable, your eyes fluttering to each of his before landing on his lips and coming back up. “I’d pay to have any of your art on display at my place.”
“Really?” he wonders, voice quiet but laced with elation at the idea of you thinking his art was worthy of money. 
“Yeah, whatever your favorite thing to draw is, I’d love to put it on my wall.”
Jungkook’s eyes scan your face, following the slope of your nose before landing on your lips, seeing the small smile etched onto them. He’s only ever been quiet and reserved around you, allowing you to have your fun as you teased and flirted with him, but now that you’re in his place, staring up at him with eyes full of want, he feels the confidence brewing up within him. It starts slow at first, slight nerves tingling his skin as he takes a breath, morphing into a simmering heat as he feels a confession settling onto his tongue. 
“You know what my favorite feature of yours to draw is?” It’s a low rasp, a quiet question that leaves you desperate for an answer.
“What?” 
“Your lips,” he mumbles, his hand slowly coming up to cup your jaw gently. His palm is cool against your skin, thumb tracing the bottom of your lower lip, pulling the flesh down before letting it bounce back. “I know you catch me staring at them all the time but I can’t help it.” 
That much was true, Jungkook’s tendency to be caught in a day dream trance was not new to you, sometimes he’d be staring at your legs but more often than not he was transfixed on your lips. “The curve of your cupid’s bow, the way they shine in the light when you wear that pretty lipgloss. I could spend hours trying to perfect them on paper but I don’t think I’d do them justice. You’re a work of art Y/N.” He whispers the last part of it and you feel it deep within you, drying out your throat as you find yourself at a loss for words. Maybe it was a blessing that Jungkook never reciprocated your flirting before because if he ever came at you with these words during class, you’d melt into a puddle and stare at him with googly eyes the entire lesson. 
A small smirk pulls his lips up when he sees how his words have affected you, his half lidded eyes staring down at you in a way you’ve never seen before and it leaves you weak once more. “I wanna know what they taste like,” he breathes out softly, inching closer ever so slightly, his thumb once again tracing your bottom lip. “Can I?”
At his question the kettle sounds off, the bubbling of water and beeping letting you know the water for coffee was done but you’re not ready for him to pull away yet. Your hands tighten around his shirt, urging him to not walk away. You’ve been wanting this to happen since the moment you met him and you’d be damned if coffee would be what ruined it all for you. 
“Kiss me, please.”
Jungkook doesn’t know how many times he’s dreamt of you uttering those words, and now having it become reality, he wastes no time closing the narrow distance between you. His lips are tender against yours, gently pressing into you as his hand remains cradling your jaw, finger softly caressing the skin as you kiss him back. It’s a slow smack of your lips together, pulling back briefly as you stare up at him through hooded eyes, but now that you’ve had a taste you don’t want to pull away again. 
His free hand grips onto your waist as you reconnect your lips, fingers digging into your skin when he senses the urgency flowing off you, your own hands slipping up and around his neck until you’re carding your fingers through his hair. That’s when you hear the first sound from him, a low groan against your mouth that shoots straight to your core, and you want to hear it again. 
It becomes clear that although Jungkook was quiet in day to day life, he was not shy about being vocal in these situations. The hiss he releases as you yank on his hair, the subtle groan into your mouth when he feels your tongue tracing the seam of his lips, to the soft curse words spoken into the air as you bite down on his lower lip and let the flesh snap back. 
“Well,” you mumble, pecking his lips once more as you twirl a strand of his hair around your finger. “How do I taste?”
His hands tighten their grip on you at your words, lips shiny as he slowly licks them over with a slight tilt to his head. “Sweet,” he murmurs, nudging your noses together, his lips ghosting over yours in a teasing touch. “I bet the rest of you is sweet too.”
You choke down a gasp, caught in your throat, not expecting the bold words to come from Jungkook’s mouth or the effect they’d have on you. It makes your stomach flip and your mind spin as you imagine it. “Why don’t you find out?” There’s an underlying challenge lacing your words, urging him to do something about it, to do anything he wanted because you were more than willing, and Jungkook is never the type to back down from a challenge. 
He chuckles softly, kissing you once more as he begins leading you towards his bed a few feet away, the coffee now long forgotten, no longer needed as you warm each other up with roaming hands and shared gasps. You can feel the way his lips curl into a smile against you when you squeal in surprise as his hands grip your waist, lifting you onto his bed properly. The soft sheets are felt against your legs as you slide up, resting against the pillows he has set up against his headboard while he hovers over you. When he pulls away from you he takes a moment to take the scene in, seeing you nestled into his sheets like you belonged there, looking up at him with lust filled eyes and swollen lips.
“God, you have no idea what you do to me,” he groans softly, large palm gently touching your neck and feeling the racing pulse of your heart against his thumb. His knees are slotted in between your own, bunching up the material of your skirt until he can see the small sliver of your red underwear beneath it. With a quiet giggle you’re lifting your leg up, nudging against his thigh until you feel the slowly growing bulge in his jeans.
“Hm, I think I have some idea.” 
His eyes playfully narrow at you, jaw ticking out as he huffs out a teasing laugh, enjoying the way you join in, morphing into a breathless sigh of his name when he kisses down your neck. Your hands meet in his hair once again, scratching at his scalp in a way that makes him shiver against you, distracts him momentarily as he licks and nips at your sensitive skin. 
The turn of events that lead to this moment is not what he expected, ever, so as his hands reach the hem of your shirt, he hesitates for a moment. You notice it when his lips pause their downward descent, craning your head back slightly to see the unsure look on his eyes. But you want this, so your hands pull away from his hair and meet his on your stomach, slowly pulling your shirt up for him and smiling when he looks up at you with curious eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, Jungkook. I’m sure.”
That reassurance was all he needed to kick back into action, pulling your shirt off of you and revealing the matching red bra you had underneath, the swells of your chest rising and falling with each breath as you lay there and let him admire you. You bite down on your lower lip while you lift yourself up slightly, gripping his own shirt and slowly tugging it up until he got the hint and helped you yank it off fully, revealing his golden skin and a mixture of more tattoos you had never seen before. Your fingers curl around his ribs as you marvel at the rich black shading the large moth across his sternum, following the curve of its wings before moving on to the following pieces in similar styles.
“I think you’re the work of art here Jungkook,” you sigh, leaning forward to kiss his skin, smiling against it when he rakes his fingers through your hair at the action. Your hands fall to the buckle of his belt, fiddling with the metal until you’re able to undo it, his button and zipper following suit and he laughs at your eagerness. 
“Wanna make you feel good.” His cock jumps at your statement, pushing against the denim and you feel it beneath your palm, looking up at him with a teasing smirk. “Can I?” you repeat his question from earlier, batting your eyes at him as if you weren’t asking for permission to do something sinful.
“Hm, I still want to get a proper taste of you first babe.” Still, he allows you to tug his jeans down, helping you slide them off his thighs until he’s left in his black briefs, kneeling in front of you with a cocky smile on his lips when he sees the way you focus on his cock tenting the fabric. “Lean back for me.”
He doesn’t need to tell you twice, settling back onto the pillows once more as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your skirt, pulling the flimsy article of clothing off of you entirely, groaning under his breath when he spots the small wet patch on the front of your thong. His mind was currently whirling at the visual, only worsening when you reach behind yourself to unhook your bra, the straps sliding off your arms as you slowly peel it off and let it drop onto the floor beside the bed. Any teasing comment you were about to say gets swallowed down with a kiss as he closes the distance, large palm sliding up your torso until he has a handful of your tits in them, giving them a squeeze that leaves you moaning into his mouth.
“Ah, Jungkook,” you whine out when his fingers pinch your nipple, gently tugging at the hardened bud. He smirks against your skin as he trails kisses down your neck, messy smacks of his lips as he passes your collar bone and slides further down your body, his warm breath fanning across your other breast.
“Sensitive?” he teases, cocking up an eyebrow at you before he’s kissing around your neglected nipple until finally wrapping his lips around it and humming. The warmth of his mouth makes you keen, jutting your chest forward for more as you place your palm over his head, groaning when he pops off and flicks his tongue across the pebbled nub. “Are you this sensitive anywhere else?”
“M-maybe,” you gasp, looking down at him as he continues down your torso. He was your living wet dream, from the charming smile on his lips when you stare at him dazed, to the way his fingers dig into your thighs to pull you further down the bed, you want to remember this moment forever. 
He’s just the right mix of rough and loving, fingers kneading your flesh after he slides your soaked panties off, groaning at the sight of your sodden folds on display for him, dripping and begging for him to get a taste. Jungkook settles between your thighs, staring at your pussy with lust filled eyes, it catches you by surprise when he leans forward and presses a firm kiss against your bundle of nerves, chuckling slightly when you gasp as the feeling. 
“I think you are,” he teases, slowly flicking the top of his tongue across your clit, reveling in the shuddering breath you release as your back relaxes against the bed. His hands slowly rub against your thighs as he takes his time, wanting to get to know every inch of you from this perspective. The way you roll your hips up for more, how your hands glide down your own body to tangle into his hair, the breathless moans of his name; he wants to store this memory under lock and key in his brain forever. 
Jungkook hums against your folds, loving the taste of you on his tongue, heart fluttering when your hand releases his hair to lace your hand with his as you moan at the pleasure. 
“Wanna leave you messy,” he mumbles as he pulls away, lips shiny with your arousal, glistening in the light of his room. A curious hum escapes your lips as you lift your head to stare at him, seeing his free hand spreading your lips apart before he’s spitting onto them, smirking when you gasp at the lewd action. The contrast of his spit on your warm skin sends a tingle up your spine, mouth dropping in awe when he digs back in, eating you out with more determination. 
His nose presses against your skin as he sucks on your clit, finding the perfect rhythm that leaves you mewling on his sheets. He smirks against you when your fingers tighten around his hand, eyes looking up at you, focused on the way your boobs jiggle as you pant from his ministrations. He can feel the way his chin gets wet as another gush of arousal spills out of you and when his finger comes up to circle your entrance he lets out a satisfied sound as the slick coats his digit. With no resistance, his fingers slip into you, the warmth of your walls wrapping around him as he slowly pumps his fingers, leaving him softly rutting into the sheets as he imagines how you’ll feel wrapped around his cock. 
The waves of pleasure wash over you quickly, rolling in with each tantalizing flick of his tongue and when he adds a second finger into the mix the delicious stretch fills you with excitement. The tips of his fingers curve up just right, nudging against the rough patch inside of you until you’re gasping again. A deep groan vibrates against your skin when your walls tighten around his fingers as he adds a third, your body eagerly inviting him in as you arch your back at the sensation. Jungkook takes great enjoyment in watching you fall apart, feeling you melt at his touch, that much is made clear as he moans like he was the one being pleasured, and it further fuels your approaching climax.
“Gonna cum,” you choke out, gasping as you stare down at him between your legs. Maybe it was because you’ve been wanting this—or some version of it—for so long but you can’t find it in yourself to feel embarrassed by how quickly he was able to break you down into a whimpering mess with his mouth. 
Jungkook’s finger’s quicken up their pace at your words, determination set in his brows as he pulls back, lips shiny as he smirks up at you. “C’mon, be a good girl and let me taste you.” The way he says it, eyes piercing into you as he latches back onto your clit, it makes your eyes roll back into your skull, the wet squelch of his fingers pumping into you mixing with the sinful sounds of your desperate moans. You’d never expect those words to come tumbling out of him, the need to do as he asks taking over, wanting to be as good as he says, and how could you ever deny him? 
A shout of his name is all you can say before you’re cumming, a flash of white displayed against your lids as you squeeze your eyes shut, hips unable to wiggle away from him when he pins you down with your connected hands, forcing you to ride out your orgasm completely until you’re whimpering and gasping on the bed. 
“So sweet,” he mumbles, pulling away from your messy folds with a look of awe on his face. His eyes are still focused on his fingers lazily pumping into you, admiring the way they shine with your slick coating them, feeling the pulsing of your sensitive walls around him as he gives your pussy a final lick before slowly crawling up your trembling body to stare down at you. “Have a taste.”
His wet lips reconnect with yours instantly, slowly creeping his tongue into your mouth while you hum in surprise, moaning into it as his tongue tangles with yours, passing the lingering taste in his mouth to you in an intimate display that left your sensitive core aching for more. Without pulling apart, your hands trail up his sides, gliding across his skin before venturing down his front. You can feel the way his muscles tense at the ticklish sensation, your fingertips ghosting across his skin until you’re toying with the hem of his briefs before slowly slipping your palm inside. He grunts against you, finally pulling away with a pant just as you wrap your hand around his length, thick and heavy in your palm while you slide it up, feeling the oozing beads of precum coating your skin as you circle his head with the flat of your thumb. 
“Wanna taste you too,” you mumble, still breathless from it all but the flicker of excitement is evident in you as you begin kissing his jaw, down his neck to suck a small blossom of purple into his skin. The ache makes him hiss, eyes fluttering shut when your palm squeezes around him slightly as you slide up. 
“Fuck,” he groans. “Y-yeah, okay.”
His agreement is all you need to pull your hands out of his briefs, pressing them flat against his chest to flip him over, letting him rest his back onto the pillows against the headboard as you settle between his thighs with hunger swirling in your eyes. Jungkook looks pretty like this, strands of his hair framing his face as he stares at you, head tilted with a small smile tugging at his lips while he contemplates your next move. His head falls back slightly as you let your hands trail down his skin once more, feeling the twitch of his stomach when you run your finger along his length over the material of his briefs. There’s clear enjoyment on his face as he allows you to take your time because it gives him a chance to admire you, to see the way your eyes widen slightly when you finally tug down his underwear, his cock springing out at no longer being restrained.
“Of course you have a big dick,” you huff, tip of your tongue running along the bottom of your teeth while you take it in. The prominent veins trailing up the body of it only accentuate his size, guiding your eyes up to the bulbous pink tip, pearls of precum dripping and begging for your attention.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he laughs out, biting down on his lower lips when you lift your palm up to your mouth and spit into it.
“It means,” you start, reaching forward with your messy hand and wrapping it around his base. “That you’re the perfect package, so why wouldn’t you have the perfect cock?” If Jungkook had a response to that, it dies in his throat the minute you start pumping his length, the slick of your saliva aiding the glide. Jungkook’s hands fist the sheets beside him when your thumb rubs the underside of his cock, jaw dropping open in a gasp while you lean forward in your kneeled position, mouth just inches away from his head. The warmth of your breath tickles his skin, a tender kiss pressed to his mushroom tip before you’re slowly opening up your lips and taking him in.
“S-shit,” he rasps, fighting the urge to thrust up into your mouth as your tongue curves underneath his cock, sliding deeper into your mouth. You repeat the motion, sliding down a bit before coming back up, collecting enough spit in your mouth to coat his length each time until it was pooling around the base of his cock, dripping down the side and leaving it as messy as he had left you earlier.
“Feel good?” you breathe as you pop off his length, giving him a sinful smile while your hands continue their movements, twisting in tandem in the perfect rhythm that left him feeling like he was floating. 
“Yeah, so good.” You feel the spark of pride in your chest when his voice trembles, leaning back over to wrap your lips around his tip only, giving it your undivided attention while your palm tightens its grip slightly. His thighs tense on either side of you as he slowly ruts up, no longer able to fight back his urges when you were making him feel this good. He groans at the visual in front of him, the slurps of your mouth sucking him in, how your lashes flutter while you sink down onto his length, the mess of drool on your chin and before he knows it he’s lifting a hand up and coming to place it behind your head. There’s no pressure behind it, simply his fingers resting on your hair, but you can feel the temptation he has by the way his fingertips briefly tighten around your strands. With a flicker of your gaze, you’re staring up at him through your lashes, giving him a quick nod with a mouthful of his cock as confirmation for him to do what he wanted.
Jungkook lets out a shuttered breath as his fingers grip your hair with confidence, yanking at it slightly and smirking when you hum around his length at the sting to your scalp. Your hand falls from his cock, settling over his thigh to let him have full control, taking in a slow breath when you feel him begin to push you down. He takes in every sensation, the pull of your lips pulled taut around him, the glide of your tongue alongside him, the way your nails dig into his thigh just as his tip nudges your throat, your muscles spasming around him for a moment before he’s pulling you off and allowing you to gasp in a wet breath. There’s a smirk on your lips that lets him know you enjoy it, the slow simmer he feels inside spreading when you allow him to do it again, and again, enjoying the messy way you choke on his cock too much to stop.
“God,” he groans out, thick with desire. “Who knew all it would take to have you acting like this was me on stage showing off my tattoos.” The confidence at the change of it all was swirling within him, never imagining the same eyes that would stare at him until his cheeks were red would be looking up at him full of tears while you gave him a blowjob. Seeing you so pliant in his grasp, the fiery, flirty version of you broken apart to reveal this image, it makes him chuckle darkly at how clear it is that the both of you were hiding aspects of yourself without knowing it.
His hands pull you off his cock when he starts to feel his orgasm beginning to spark inside of him, not wanting to cum in your mouth before he gets to feel your walls around his cock. Your lips are swollen and shiny as you sit back up, biting down on your lower lip as you rest your palms on either side of his hips and lean closer to his face. “Honestly, even with your cute turtleneck you could do whatever you wanted to me.” Your lips ghost over his own as you speak, breathing out a laugh as he leans forward in an attempt to kiss you, missing you when you inch back.
“Oh yeah?” he chuckles, his hand coming up to cup behind your neck, not letting you inch away before his lips are pressing against yours. It’s messy, the drool on your lips coating his own but he loves it anyway, groaning when you slip your lips open and lick your way into his mouth. Jungkook was only teasing, he knew your crush on him wasn’t purely based on the version you’re seeing tonight, having seen first hand how much you’d compliment him when he showed up to class in new glasses or told him how cute his smile was on a daily, but he can’t lie and say he doesn’t enjoy the slight flustered way you had behaved tonight.
“I can do whatever I want?” he wonders, pulling away and staring at you with hooded eyes, thumb rubbing along your jaw as he loosens his hold on your neck.
“Mhm,” you confirm sweetly, squealing when he suddenly flips you both over, the pillows cushioning your head while you stare up at Jungkook hovering over you. His dark hair hangs beside his face, nose scrunched up cutely at your giggle, eyes sparkling with mischief and desire so strong it makes your tummy flip. 
“Can I fuck you?” he questions softly, eyes flicking down to your lips and back up. His cock rests on your folds, slowly sliding against them as he ruts into you, lips pulling into a smirk when you groan at the sensation. Your fingers grip his sides when the head of his cock nudges against your swollen clit, hips rolling up to meet his thrusts, nodding with a small gasp. “No, baby. I need words.”
Shutting your eyes briefly, you try to calm your racing mind with a slow breath, opening them back up to stare directly at him. “Fuck me Jungkook, please.” He savors the words after you say them, breathing out a sigh when you lift your head up slightly to press a tender kiss to his lips. “I want it.”
A groan fills the air, fingers digging into his skin when he speeds up his thrusts, grinding against you with a tiny curse uttered under his breath before he’s pulling away. His body leans across to the side, scrambling over you to reach his nightstand in the corner, yanking the drawer open to pull out a small foil packet, biting the corner of it as he resituates himself over you with a boyish smile. You giggle at his obvious enthusiasm, biting down on your lower lip while you watch him tear the condom wrapper open, eyes falling onto his cock when he slowly fists it before rolling it on. Jungkook takes his time as he does so, eyes looking up at you with a smirk etched onto his lips, sighing softly as his hands meet the base of his cock. 
“Ready?” he breathes out, hands settling beside you as he leans over your body, nudging your noses together with a shared smile. When you nod, mumbling out a confirmation, he leads his length towards your dripping center, feeling the tight ring of muscle as he slowly inches forward. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sensation, palms gliding across his back as the head of his cock breaches your entrance. The slight stretch in the beginning sends a shock of excitement through you, moaning slightly when he pushes in further, sliding in with ease from how wet you are. 
Jungkook feels like he’s on cloud nine right now, the warmth of your walls enveloping him perfectly, tightening around him each time you’d gasp when he’d get deeper inside of you. His jaw is slack as he takes it all in, letting out a small groan of your name when he finally bottoms out, nuzzled deep within you, and he swears his body trembles slightly when he takes a glance between your bodies, seeing the way you’re connected now. Somehow you want him impossibly closer, hooking your legs around his slim waist to keep him close before he even has a chance to move, adjusting to his size as your walls flutter around him. 
“Fuck,” you shudder, mouthing kisses down his jaw to bring him back to reality. “Feel so full.” There’s a slight slur to your voice now, heady with pleasure, drunk off Jungkook entirely and it fills him with a sense of pride to hear you sound so needy for him like this. The groan he releases vibrates his throat as you kiss it, wet smacks to his warming skin that just make it harder for him to unscramble the words in his brain, and when your lips ghost over the earlier hickey you painted onto his skin his hips have a mind of their own and inch back, thrusting into you suddenly. A gasp hits his skin at the motion, your fingernails pressing into his back as he repeats it once more, pulling out a little more each time until he is slowly rocking into you.
“Tell me,” he pants, his finger tapping the bottom of your chin to get you to look up at him. “How do you want it?” His brow is cocked up in question, lips shining back as he runs his tongue along them. “Soft and slow?” His thrusts match his words, fucking into you sensually, reaching deep within you, his cock nudging against the best part inside of you until you were gasping. It makes you cling onto him tightly, feeling each deliberate roll of his hips, a slow heat of comfort and pleasure spreading through you until your skin is tingling at his touch. 
“Or rough and messy?” You have no time for the words to settle in your mind before he’s changing up the tempo, rearing his hips back before thrusting forward, skin smacking together and filling up his room. A strained moan leaves your lips, quickly swallowed down by a kiss as he closes the small distance between you, each gasp of yours fueling his hips until he’s fluidly pistoning into you. His cock fills you up deliciously, stretching you out until your walls are molding around him as if he belonged there. Each rough rock forward has him hitting your patch of nerves perfectly, cock curving just right inside of you, turning your thoughts into mush, every single cell in your body screaming for more.
“Like this,” you choke out, pulling apart with a wet smack, a string of saliva breaking between you. “God, just like this.” Your head is thrown back now and Jungkook takes full advantage to even out the playing field and give you a hickey of your own. The second his lips press into your neck your hand is coming to tangle into his hair, groaning softly as he nips and sucks your tender flesh. Your walls tighten around him at the new stimulation, your warmth sucking him back in with each thrust, greedy for more and he gives you exactly what you want. He hums against your neck when he feels another gush of your arousal drip out of you, coating your thighs, the wet squelch of your pussy soaking his cock getting louder, blending in with your soft cries in a perfect mix.
“Dirty girl,” he groans out, tip of his tongue flicking against the purple splotch beneath your ear, enjoying the way you shudder at the ticklish feeling. His hand fists the sheet beside you as he speeds up, balls smacking into you each time from the force, his eyes falling onto your tits to admire them as they jiggle with each thrust. His other hand comes up to squeeze your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers until your back is arching up, the small jolt of pleasure spreading through like a shock of electricity. 
“You like getting fucked like this?” he questions, knowing the answer very well by the look on your face. Your eyes are dazed as you stare at him, brows pinched together into a beautiful scowl while he continues his rough pace, tightening your legs around him and rolling your hips up in time. 
“Mm, want it harder.” There’s slight humor laced in your voice as you bite down on your bottom lip, feeling the skip in your heart as he narrows his eyes at you playfully, tongue prodding at his cheek like he did earlier as he shakes his head in thought. 
“Oh, you want it harder?” he teases, his hips coming to a complete stop before he’s pulling out entirely. You don’t have time to complain over the sudden empty feeling, his large hands gripping your hips so tightly it dimples the skin, flipping you over with ease onto your front. Jungkook chuckles as you turn your head around to stare at him, feeling his hands scoop under you to haul you up onto your hands and knees properly. 
“I can fuck you harder, pretty girl.” A mirth smile is on his lips while he kneels behind you, knees pushing your legs further apart, palm coming down to glide up your back until he’s pressing down to bend you over fully. Your mind’s spinning at the gentle pet name he had called you, heart warming in your chest in an adorable way that doesn’t match the raunchy events transpiring, but you bask in it for a second, coming out of it when your chest presses into his sheets. His palm doesn’t ease up until your hands are planted beside your head, cheek pressed to the side.
The sheets rustle as you tighten your hold on them, letting out a stuttering breath when you try to calm your racing heart at the tone he had used. Your skin breaks out into goosebumps as he trails his hand back down your body, over the curve of your waist, down to your butt where he softly palms your flesh. A small groan fills the air when his hands slip down to your thighs, feeling the mess coating your skin, showing him just how much you want him. With bated breath, he fists his cock once more, leading it to your heat and sliding in with a smooth thrust, the wet squelch blending in with your raspy moan when you feel how much deeper he reaches you in this position. 
“Shit, Jungkook—ah.” He gives you exactly what you asked for, large hands gripping your hips tightly to prevent you from going anywhere, hips thrusting into you with enough force to make his bed frame rattle, but his eyes were glued to the visual of his cock splitting you open. His jaw clenches slightly as he focuses on the bounce of your ass each time he rocked forward, the resounding smack of skin filling up his room. Jungkook can’t hold back the moan of your name when he spots how you’re creaming his cock, adding more mess to all of it, but this is what you wanted, rough and messy, so he’s keeping his word. 
“How’s that for harder?” he drawls out, tongue coming out to swipe at his lip, feeling the way your thighs tremble against his own. 
Words leave your mind for a minute, the speed of his thrusts turning you into jello as he pounds into you, the feeling of his cock robbing you of your voice. Jungkook can see his effect on you easily, scooping an arm under your hips to hold you steady when your form starts to falter, and you squeal as he lifts you up, angling your hips higher, tip of his cock nudging different parts inside of you that made your walls tighten around him. 
“You feel so good Kook,” you whine out, knuckles turning white as you tighten your hold on his sheets, wrinkling them in your gasp. Your cheek is smushed into the bed but he can make out your words just fine, the neediness laced into each syllable makes him want to give you more, sliding the hand around your hips to meet your sensitive clit. Your reaction is immediate, gasping lewdly as his calloused finger finds your swollen nub, rubbing circles in time with his thrusts and smirking when your hips twitch in his grasp. 
“Yeah?” he rasps, never slowing his pace, his own stomach tightening when he feels the way your walls flutter around him. “Am I gonna ruin you for everyone else? Make you dream about me fucking you like this?”
His words have their desired effect on you, crying out as you start to rut back onto him, your desperation to cum growing inside if you, striking a match within you until a steady fire is spreading. From Jungkook’s perspective, desperation looks good on you, leaves your skin sweaty and glowing in the light, makes your voice breathy as you moan out his name like a mantra, eyes screwed shut as you crumble into the sheets with his hand holding you up. 
“Yes, fuck. I’m only gonna want you, j-just you.” Your confession makes his chest tighten, his own pleasure crawling up his spine, sparking up every nerve ending, making his brain foggy until all he can think about is you you you. 
“Me too, pretty girl,” he groans out, speeding up the flick of his fingers, fucking you with more urgency to send you both over the edge. Your body tenses up as you focus on the pleasure, mouth opening up in a silent gasp as the feeling overwhelms you, pushing you over with a final flick that sends you shuddering beneath him as you cum for a second time tonight. 
Jungkook marvels at the way your body reacts to him, hips twitching in his grasp as you lift your face up from the sheets to gasp in a breath when his pace never slows, seeking out his own pleasure as it floods his system. 
“Fuck, fuck—“ he chants, raspy and trembling. The tingles of oversensitivity flare up inside of you but you bask in it, mewling softly under your breath as he surges deeper into your pulsing walls and cums with a raspy groan of your name. His heavy breathing fills the air, hips pressed flush against you, and you’re expecting him to pull out but he seems to have other plans in store. A choked moan is ripped out of you as his fingers come back to life, sliding up your sodden folds and enjoying the way you tremble under his touch. 
Jungkook leans over your weak form until his lips are pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder, feeling the warmth of your skin. The tenderness of his kiss doesn’t match the quick figure eights he rubs into your clit, thighs shaking as you debate running from the sharp pleasure. 
“You wanted it messy baby, make me messy again.” His words go straight to your core, stomach hiccuping as you gasp and moan, the overwhelming pleasure building up until you have no choice but to take it. Jungkook continues to press soft kisses to your skin as he praises you, a final flick of his fingers is what breaks the dam as you cum a final time. He groans against your skin when your walls clamp around him, arousal gushing out of you and coating his dick, dripping down your thighs until his sheets are messy from it all. Only then does he pull out. “Good girl.”
He slowly helps you lower yourself onto his bed, choosing to lick his fingers clean before he’s disposing of the condom and coming back to your defeated body on his sheets. “C’mon, let's get you cleaned up.” His voice is soft now, a gentle smile on his face that you see as he flips you over, fingers soothing your skin. 
“You can’t do that,” you scoff, finger coming up to prod at his chest. 
“Do what?”
“Fucking destroy me and then act all cute.” That earns you a laugh from him, nose scrunching up in that way you always love and it makes your heart flutter in your chest. 
“Yes I can,” he argues, slowly hauling you up to sit. “Do you want to use my shower?”
You hum under your breath, distracted for a moment as your eyes focus on the ink on his skin once more. You could use a shower, but having to walk home in this weather with wet hair was asking to get yourself sick. “I can shower at my place.”
Jungkook’s eyes look away from you instantly, pushing away the slightly dejected feeling that settles into his stomach and forcing himself to speak properly. Why was it so easy for him to talk your ear off while buried inside of you but his mind can’t formulate a sentence to invite you to stay. With a small clear of his throat, his eyes find yours again, uncertainty swirling in them as he speaks, “You can stay the night…I’d like it if you stayed the night.”
Your hands come up to cup his cheeks as you smile, that funny feeling in your chest spreading and making you feel giddy as you stare at him. “Well, if that’s what you’d like, I’m staying.”
Jungkook allows you to shower first, taking his time to finish up the coffee he promised you earlier as well as leaving some clothes for you to sleep in once you come out, also taking the liberty to swap his bed sheets because his current ones would need to be cleaned. It feels domestic to be bundled up in his clothing, sipping coffee in his bedroom while you admire more of the art on his walls, hearing him in the shower a few feet away. 
When he finally emerges from the bathroom, you do a double take, seeing him exiting with a long sleeve and sweats, brown hair falling over his forehead and his signature frames back onto his face. It was a softer looking version of the man that had walked in, but as he rolls up the sleeves of his pullover, the black ink meeting your eyes once more, it blends the two versions perfectly. 
“What?” he wonders when he catches your gaze, charming smile on his lips as he settles onto his bed a few feet away from you. 
“Nothing, you’re just cute.” His cheeks tint at your compliment, trying to brush it off with a smile as he pats the spot beside him to beckon you over. 
“You’re cuter,” he counters, snickering as you settle onto the bed, placing your mug on the coaster resting on his nightstand. 
“Hm, what was it again? I’m your pretty girl?” Not an ounce of embarrassment lays in him as he nods along, finger coming up to playfully tap at your chin. 
“You liked that huh?” 
“I did,” you confirm, smiling up at him as he inches closer. You beat him to the punch, swooping in and pressing your lips together sweetly, giggling as he makes a small noise of surprise. 
“I’ll make sure to say it more often.” It makes heat spread through you, having to ebb away your thoughts as he pushes down his sheets, a knowing smile on his lips when you look away from him. Jungkook chuckles under his breath when you finally join him under the sheets, his arm hooking around you to bring you close to his side. You get comfortable quickly, nuzzling into his chest as you throw your arm around his waist, hearing the slow beating of his heart. 
His body moves slightly as he brings up the blankets, his head looking down at you and smiling at the content look on your face. “I know this is totally backwards,” he starts, licking his lips over when you peer up at him with curious eyes. “But I’d really like to take you on a date. A proper one, that doesn’t involve you getting chased by the campus goose beforehand.”
“Really?” You can’t lie and say you weren’t hoping that this is what it would lead to, not wanting this to just be a one off hook up that would either make your relationship in class awkward or limit this to being the extent of your relationship. Jungkook had reeled you in the second you spoke to him on the first day of class, his polite demeanor and gentle compliments making it easy for you to picture what he would be like as a potential boyfriend. Tie that in with the way he was able to turn you into a stuttering mess with his fingers earlier tonight and that was all you needed to know he was the perfect package for you. 
“Yeah, we can go out for breakfast tomorrow before we finish our drawings? Or, I can take you to this really cool art shop a few blocks away. There's also this really pretty cafe that has themed drinks I think you’d like. And—“ his rambling is cut short as you squish his cheeks and bring his face down to plant another kiss on his lips. Jungkook finally releases a breath as you kiss him, eyes fluttering shut while his mind slows down and focuses on the gentle smacks of your lips together. 
“Yes,” you mumble against his mouth, lips curved up into a smile. 
“Yes to what?” he wonders, kissing you once again because he can’t get enough. 
“All of it. I’ll go anywhere with you.” You feel his heart race pick up against your palm, the smile on his face letting you know it’s not from nerves. Jungkook’s mind begins to whirl again with ideas, wanting to come up with something perfect, something worthy enough to show you just how he felt, and as he starts to speak them out loud once more, you can’t help but feel just as giddy.
Promises of taking you to see his band again, making you an art piece for you to hang on your wall, teaching you any song you want to learn on bass, are spoken into existence and you agree to all of it. The sparkle in his eyes makes your heart melt as you lean forward and kiss him once more, your cheek nudging his glasses while his palm comes up to cup your face. 
“I know how I wanna draw you for my project,” you murmur against his lips. 
“How?”
You pull back and turn to face the corner of his room, making two L shapes with your fingers and holding them close like a frame as you point to his bass. “With your cherished bass of course.”
He chuckles, arms wrapping around your waist to bring you closer as he kisses your cheek. “Yeah? I’ll even pose shirtless for you if you’d like.”
“Oh, don’t threaten me with a good time,” you laugh, tangling your fingers in his hair, feeling the way his body shakes as he joins in with your laughter. As you lay there, feeling Jungkook pressing gentle kisses to your cheek, twirling strands of his hair in your finger while you keep him close, you’re flooded with excitement at whatever he has planned. From this position, your eyes make out his opened sketch pad, the drawing of yourself so clear on the paper, and as that same fluttering feeling takes over your chest, you’ve never been more thankful to have chosen his sweet, geeky self to be your art partner.
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chateautae · 9 days ago
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hotter than hell | jjk. (m)
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banner by miss solaris @jamaisjoons <3
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➵ summary : jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.
↳ part of the Namkook Moonrise Masquerade collab hosted by @jamaisjoons
➵ pairing : fallen lucifer!jungkook x human!reader
➵ genre : supernatural/fantasy!au, romance, e2l, road trip, angst, fluff, eventual smut, three-shot
➵ rating : 18+
➵ word count : 27k
➵ warnings : swearing, angst, alcohol consumption, semi-biblically-accurate depictions of angels and demons, supernatural themes, mentions and depictions of sin, s e x u a l  t e n s i o n, neck-kissing, straddling
➵ a/n : WHY HELLO EVERYONE here’s the demon lucifer jk as promised!! i stayed up an entire night just to create the plot, i hope it delivers!! it’s literally one of the my favourite ideas ever hehe. this is the first part of a three-shot :) please excuse any mistakes or error since I didn’t have a beta and will probably get someone to do so later 🤧 PLEASE IMAGINE MOTS ON:E DAY 1 MY TIME JUNGKOOK FOR THIS Y’ALL, enjoy!! <3
➵ playlist : asshole by hooligan chase
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| 01 | 02 | final. |
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‘Why is she looking at my man?’ 
‘I need to get blackout drunk.’
‘Damn, that girl is fucking hot.’
‘I’ll steal it when he isn’t looking.’
Jungkook’s head rings with an innumerable amount of others’ thoughts, and he can’t seem to silence the blaring volume of them at all.
He’s roaming in complete confusion, clutching his palms over his ears because shit, is everything just so loud. His feet hurt too, when have his feet ever hurt? Why can’t he fucking fly? Why does he suddenly feel so cold?
Jungkook’s bleary vision catches sight of neon signs and lights that invite head-splitting migraines. His usual leather outfit suddenly feels like it’s sticking to his skin too much, and what is this constant pang he feels in his stomach?
He doesn’t know, all he knows is that this isn’t hell, and he definitely should not be here. 
In all his thinking, his shoulder smacks into a passing stranger and he scolds them with stern eyes, only to ram into someone else yet again. 
Fuck, that hurt. Why did that hurt? When has he ever felt pain at all? Jungkook grunts in frustration as he weaves through passing bodies in the streets and eventually tumbles before a closed store. The second he looks through the window, his eyes widen in sheer horror. 
He’s.. he’s human? 
No, impossible. He can’t be human, where did his red eyes go? Why can’t he see his wings? He snaps quick glances at his shoulder blades and finds them empty, even reaching behind his back to only feel a seamless leather jacket. He looks at his hands and sees them just like his usual form, but when did he lose that natural, searing heat to his skin? 
Jungkook can’t think, he can’t understand what’s going on but can only comprehend one very obvious, almost laughable thing. 
He’s been cast out of hell. 
He laughs, then laughs some more because shit, is that goddamn funny, comedic, absolutely hysterical. Lucifer, the king of hell himself, has been cast out of his own kingdom? Sent to Earth as some measly blubbering, putrid human? 
The second Jungkook whips his head around to a horn honking, his equilibrium unbalanced itself, that incessant ringing in his ear returning. He feels too fucking dizzy, the axis of his entire world spinning. Groaning in dull pain, he begins stalking down the street with his clammy palm to his head. 
He bumps into more people and staggers, but he doesn’t care when he can still feel that same agonizing headache plaguing him. His eyesight begins to lose precision, and before he advances, he feels his knees buckle into the nearest alleyway. He drops to the ground hard, and his surroundings disappear before he feels his cheek meet the cold pavement. 
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Monday’s are so goddamn boring. 
Absolutely nothing is special about the dreadful day. All you ever desire is to crawl into a hole and slowly perish. And the only remedy to such an issue? At least to you, it would be a nice, steaming cup of coffee. 
But what absolutely trashes even the taste of coffee on a Monday?
The fact that it’s a Monday.
You drag your feet down the street, listless and exhausted after a tiresome day at work. You loosely clutch your bag over your shoulder as you trudge along, paying attention only squarely in front of you when suddenly, your feet ram into something. You almost trip over, furrowing your brows in confusion as you zero-in on the culprit. 
Once your vision becomes clear, you immediately squeal out in shock. You look carefully to find a man lying unconscious nearby a dumpster, appalled by the disgusting trash that litters the area next to him. 
You step slowly towards the stranger, finding that he’s actually quite… handsome. No, scratch that, he is drop-dead gorgeous, his looks almost too devilishly attractive. He appears fairly young to you as well, maybe the same age as you. You scan his outfit next and find him in a quite showy leather outfit; black boots, sheer-patterned shirt that exposed his body, hair flawlessly framing his face. 
You could’ve believed he was a fallen angel, his almost ethereal aura screaming of an existence far from here. His face structure is almost perfectly crafted from the finest marble, his nose looks boopable and his adorable lips naturally fall into this charming pout. 
Though his cuteness was not to be taken head-on, because you could only imagine what such a beautiful man’s eyes look like, and what allure remained hidden within them. 
You shake your head out of the compromising thoughts, swallowing as you contemplate what to do next. The most logical thing would be to call 911, that would help him out the most, wouldn’t it?
You whip out your phone and tap your screen, only to gain no response. You quirk your brows, clicking your power button and finding your device completely drained of battery. You groan with a roll of your eyes, too shy to inquire another stranger on the street for their phone.
Weighing on the decision that the stranger most likely has a phone, you bite your lip before squatting down by him. You precariously reach into his jacket and gently search for any pockets inside, only met with empty ones. You target his leather pants next and surprisingly come up dry of a phone or wallet, no keys or even a damn stick of gum. 
That leaves you with a real head-scratcher. The stranger seems to have absolutely nothing on him, now suddenly curious of whether or not he's even dead or alive. Heart quickening at the prospect of this being a dead body, you nervously gulp as you carefully take his wrist, and place two fingers against his pulse point. 
You thankfully feel a faint heartbeat and release a breath of relief, thinking quickly on your feet. You couldn’t just leave the stranger to fend for himself, it was already cold tonight and God knows what would happen to him without any of his necessary belongings. 
On a whim and out of sheer concern for the man’s well-being, you decide to haul a cab and take him home with you, hoping to also treat that nasty wound on his cheek. 
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Jungkook feels his consciousness resurfacing, head heavy, legs weighing a ton. His eyes flutter open to a white ceiling, darting around to find himself not on the street, not in hell, but inside a quaint apartment.
He furrows his brows, rubbing lazily at an eye once he does a quick once over of the place. He sincerely doesn’t understand where he is or what he’s doing here, but right now his head is still pounding too hard to even contemplate his next move. 
Sitting up, he swallows to find his throat desert-dry, stomach producing this weird gurgling sound he can’t piece together an answer for, and his eyes feel this hefty weight behind his lids. 
With a sigh, he rises to his feet, steadying himself. He sighs at just how annoyingly human he is, feeling the sensation of his legs aching, his neck adopting a crook from being awkwardly perched on the couch’s armrest, even his cheek stinging with something. 
He touches the afflicted area and instead finds some sort of cloth taped over him, wondering what in the hell it is. He touches it some more, and applies pressure only to hiss at his wound, rolling his eyes at the sensation of pain. 
With a deep exhale to release the frustration from his body, Jungkook notices he can still feel the fiery pits of hell coursing through his veins. That hot flame is still alive inside him, something heated still within his blood and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do something about it. With a focused mind and a composed breath, Jungkook attempts to revisit the very first, innate thing about his older form, imagining conjuring up his red, glowing eyes. 
He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, and envisions them glowing crimson before he opens them again, feeling a smoldering heat spark in his irises. He spots a mirror by the front door of the apartment and peers at himself, finding his eyes a vibrant, almost fiery red. 
He smirks, proud and satisfied. He’s still got it in him and he’ll be fucked six ways from Sunday if anyone can tell him otherwise. Feeling confident and alive, Jungkook attempts to conjure up some flames in his palms. Lo and behold, after a tense second of undivided focus, a fire gushes open in his bare hands. It feels just like when he’s perched on his throne in hell, Jungkook cracking another smug grin at the power he still holds. 
In that moment however, he hears the distinct clatter of something tumbling to the ground, and whips around to the noise. He shockingly finds a human woman staring at him in utter terror, hand clutched to her heart with her phone on the ground, and cowering into the wall as she shakes profusely. 
You’re stunned, flabbergasted, downright terrified out of your wits seeing the same man you found unconscious in the street now with fire flushing out of his hands. You see him begin to approach you and you’re overridden with fear, screaming at the unnatural sight before you. 
You scream, you scream and scream and look around for objects of any sort. You spot a small bottle of body spray on your hallway counter and immediately fling it towards the man for defence. 
“Get away from me, get away!” 
“Woah, hey, hey! Calm down!” 
But you don’t, and you instead throw other obscure and heavy objects towards him only for him to either burn or dodge them, eliciting even more of your panic. He’s getting closer as he attempts to pacify you, darting by him and running directly towards your kitchen.
Your frazzled brain isn’t thinking and you immediately fling open a cabinet, reaching for the very first thing you see and rapidly grasp a pan. You hold it up ready for punishing the man before he scrambles and hushes your ear-splitting shrills, holding up his hands in surrender. 
“Wait, wait, stop! Shh!” 
“How can I not scream when your eyes are literally red?!” 
Jungkook struggles for a sentence. “Look, just, shh. You’re gonna alarm the people in your building!” 
“That’s the fucking point?! You’re a maniac!” You yell and grab open your drawer of utensils, beginning to chuck forks and spoons at the frantic man. 
“Hey, stop! Would you-stop throwing shit!” Jungkook yells frustratedly as you send him a scowl, only catapulting things harder in response. But suddenly, Jungkook burns a butter knife you haul his way, and fearfully watching it melt right before your eyes. They widen in absolute horror.
You’re seriously, and very horribly fucked.
Panic invades your chest and you spot your phone lying on the ground near your bedroom door, quickly bolting towards it in hopes of calling 911, or at least somebody for help. You dive towards the floor and snatch up your device, racing mind unable to sift through contacts efficiently enough before you feel strong arms quickly caging around you. The stranger traps your wriggling body as he attempts to grab at your phone, yelling angrily. 
“Are you insane?! Why are you calling someone?!” 
“Because you’re a fucking maniac!” 
You struggle against the man’s burly hold and flail around hopelessly, utterly panicking realizing how strong he is.  
Screams escape you as you useslessly fight each other on the floor, incessantly attempting to weaken his grasp. The man with much larger hands than yours however nabs your phone and tosses it into your room somewhere, attempting to hush you as you squeal and kick at him profusely. 
“Stop it, stop! I can explain myself!” 
“I don’t want to hear your fucking evil plan before you kill me!” 
The man’s arms are still, curled around you and hugging your back to his chest, but it’s not a warm welcome at all as he keeps you from escaping, all while you holler incoherently at him to release you. You grow tired of the shenanigans and stuff the meat of his hand in between your teeth, sinking them in with enough force to harm him. The man exclaims in pain as his arms detangle from you. 
“Ow! What the fuck?!” 
You rapidly rise to your feet in search of your phone. It’s laying near your bed and you scamper off towards it, bending down with a grabby hand to reach it, but suddenly feel the man’s heavy figure hurtle you onto the bed. You both tumble onto your mattress, the handsome stranger on top as he locks down your thrashing hands, eyes urgent as he regards you below. 
“Woman, please, please stop screaming.” He warns crucially. “I’m not someone people can know about, we’ll both get in shit!” 
“By who? You’re the only freak here!” You wiggle your smaller wrist out of his grip and reach over for a stray cushion on your bed. You feel the fleecy material in your hand and harshly begin smacking the man with the pillow. 
“Oh c’mon-what the fuck?!” You disarm him completely as he falters at your hits, the stranger toppling onto the ground as you recklessly beat the living hell out of him. 
He crosses his arms over his face in an effort to protect himself, knowing even if you run now, the man seemed strong and smart enough to capture you again; two deadly combinations that could mean your demise. So you decide to keep senselessly whacking the cushion at him until he eventually tires, and you’ll make a break for it, or Mr. and Mrs. Tran next door will most likely come to your rescue. 
You stand above him and yell profanities as you practically abuse the stranger with your pillow. However, the man latches a hand onto the pillow to halt you and causes the cheap material to completely tear open. Feather’s instantly fly out of the cushion and fill your room with white fluffiness, groaning in complaint at the mess. 
You disregard the $4 ripped-up thing, and return to smacking at the man with the pillow cover. 
“Why. The. Fuck. Did you. Rip. My. PILLOW?!” You howl between each of your attacks and the man struggles on the ground as he exclaims in pain, blinded and barely able to shout in return. 
“Are you fucking kidding me?! Why are you beating me up?!” 
“Says the one who ripped my pillow and tried to murder me!” 
“I’m not even-what!” The stranger shrieks in disbelief. “I never tried to murder you! I didn’t do anything wrong!” 
That response actually halts your actions, freezing once you truly contemplate the stranger didn’t try to exactly kill you or anything, and you’re then in fact assaulting him for no concrete reason. As your easily distracted mind wanders, the man suddenly pulls at your legs with grabby hands. You squeal as you suddenly land on top of his rather muscular body, crashing onto him hard. 
Funny enough, you end up apologizing for settling over him so roughly. “Oh my God, I’m so-” 
“Shh, shh.” The man pushes his index fingers to your lips and his own, shushing you both. There’s a long moment of silence, both you and the albeit, gorgeous man staring into each other’s round eyes as your chests press into each other’s tightly, feathers slowly cascading down around your entangled bodies. 
You swallow as you watch the man underneath you in fear, wondering why he hushed you. You open your mouth to question him but he only shakes his head, warning you with a hush again. 
“Shh, I hear footsteps.” 
Suddenly, your front door is racked with a few hard raps. 
“Who’s-” The man begins a question but you immediately smack your hands over his mouth, silencing him. 
“Shh, don’t say anything!” 
He removes your dainty hands from his lips and surprisingly holds them quite gently. “But is it the police-” 
You clasp them over his mouth tighter, your face and his suddenly mere inches from each other as you tut him. “Shh! They can’t hear another voice!” 
“Honey! Are you in there?” 
You both pause, wide-eyed and frozen in time as you hear the voices of the nice couple that live next door to you. Your fight or flight mode kicks in, stress hormones on high alert as you register the idea of them seeing a random man in your apartment. 
Let alone you on top of him like this.
They’ll assume the worst and get too worried for their own good, sighing with immense anxiety. You rapidly scramble off the leather-wearing stranger and snatch up his wrist, quickly tugging him upwards and onto his feet. He balances himself and you quickly shove him onto your tousled sheets and disorderly feathers. 
“Look, just-stay here.” You hiss in a whisper, gesturing to him to stay put like a pet dog as you rapidly kick some stray feathers that escaped into the hallway inside your bedroom. You fix your outfit with a few strokes and begin shutting the door to hide the man, until he suddenly calls you back with a whisper-yell. 
“Wait, woman!” 
You poke your head back in with an incredulous ‘what the fuck?’, and the man rises as he steps speedily towards you. His hands jut out for what you believe to be in effort to harm you, but instead find your hair and smooth down some of your wild locks, even picking out a fuzzy piece of feather that stuck to your bangs. 
“Oh..” You quietly exclaim, running your hands through your hair for a quick fix.
“Dear, where are you? We’re getting very worried!” You hear Mr. Tran yell more urgently this time, and your hands smack against the strangers to unhand you, pushing him back within the four walls of your bedroom and shutting the door on his handsome face. 
You compose yourself once you’ve done so and reach your foyer, swinging open your front door. 
“Oh dear, Y/N, we were so worried, honey. Are you alright?” Mrs. Tran holds her hand to her chest as she takes a deep breath, Mr. Tran soon joining. 
“Is anything going on, sweetheart? We heard so much yelling.” 
“I’m okay, Mr. and Mrs. Tran. You don’t need to worry about me at all.” 
“Are you sure you’re okay, dear? There was an awful lot of screaming.” Mrs. Tran’s eyes flit around your apartment discreetly. 
“I was just on video call with my friends and they decided to play a scary prank on me.” You bellow out a fake laugh and watch them lighten up, buying the lie. 
“Oh gosh, we thought we heard another man’s voice and got so scared! We’re so glad you’re alright, dear.” Mr. Tran laughs with you, and you kindly reply. 
“Oh not at all! Thank you for checking on me, Mr. and Mrs. Tran.” You smile big and wide to appear okay, momentarily snapping your vision towards your bedroom with a gulp. They end up bidding their farewells and you watch them entirely enter their apartment, sighing with relief once their door closes. 
You shut yours, and practically stomp over to your bedroom as you hurl the door back open. The man on the other side practically leaps when you do, staring wide-eyed with raised eyebrows at your angry expression. 
“You have a lot of explaining to do.” The man watches steam figuratively blown out of your ears, and a little noise escapes the back of his throat that almost sounds like a laugh. 
“Did you just laugh at me?” 
“N-no.” He brushes off sauvely. 
You roll your eyes and snatch his wrist again, dragging him over to your living room and abruptly halting just before your couches. You shove him towards them and he snaps a testy look at you, taking his seat. 
You decide to stand and look down at him as he crosses a leg and lays his arm against the backrest, sitting as if he owned the place. You fold your arms and tap your foot in anticipation, eyes pissed and steely. “Well?” 
“Well, what?” 
“Do you not owe me an explanation?” You quirk an audacious brow, attempting to fathom what just transpired in the last 5 minutes.
“Explanation.. of what exactly?” He tilts his head and watches you with fascination, and it was now you realized his eyes weren’t glowing red anymore, they’re the colour of chocolate brown. But that doesn’t mean what you saw was a hallucination or a mind-trick either, you remember exactly what you witnessed with your naked eyes. 
The man seems to feel a crook in his neck. Your once occupied attention now snaps to the way he stretches it out, listening to the cracks of his bones that sound practically inhuman. 
“Why the hell did I see fire coming out of your hands? And your red eyes? Who the fuck are you?!” 
The stranger has an ah-hah moment, and understands you with a small nod. He goes from a non-committing look of disinterest to a mirthy smirk on his face, one that almost seemed devilish. He lets out a proud sigh as he hoists himself up, standing tall before you as he suavely tugs at the lapels of his leather jacket. 
“Well, I’ll cut to the chase,” The man quirks his eyebrows and plays with his lips in this undeniably sexy way you can’t help but find hot, blinking away the thought before it consumes you. 
“I’m Lucifer, the king of hell, baby.” 
You blink; once, twice, then three times. You stare at him dumbfounded, as if that would help you understand what he just so casually uttered. You finally let out a noise akin to a scoff. “I’m sorry, what?” 
“I’m Lucifer. You know, fallen archangel? Satan? The Devil?” 
You blink. “Do you think this is a joke?” 
The so-called Lucifer furrows his brows. “Huh?” 
“I nursed you after finding you unconscious on the street, and now you want to joke with me?” 
“But I’m not joking..?” The man seems acutely confused, even tilting his head in this innocent way that completely contrasted his scorching hot looks. He even peers so vividly into your eyes, it's as though he could read every corner of your soul. He towers over you, you also realized. His height is so significantly taller than yours that he has to crane his neck to look down at you. And all of sudden, the way your eyes shift up to meet his gaze feels oddly searing, almost like you feel something hot ignite within you when your lines of sight lock.
“There’s no way in hell you’re Lucifer, buddy. Tell me who you really are and maybe we can talk.” 
“But that is who I am,” Jungkook emphasizes, watching him step closer to you. He suddenly leans down to be eye-level with you, staring directly into your pupils smugly before cracking an evil grin. “Let me show you.” 
Your lips fall into a quizzical pout as you watch him perplexedly before you, and witness the man’s eyes suddenly morph from a warm coffee brown into a dull, flaming colour of dark scarlet. You flinch, watching the image of almost a smoldering fire in his eyes, and the coy way he tongues his cheek gives you the impression he’s a man dripping in sin. 
He blinks and rids himself of the flames, straightening up. “Believe me now, angel?” 
You couldn’t fathom this information, nor the pet name he just used on you. Did you in fact find Lucifer, the devil himself unconscious in the street and brought him into your home? Even nursed him and let him crash in your living room? Not that you regretted it at the time, you do remember admiring his absolutely gorgeous face and couldn’t help but openly gawk at him. 
Of course Lucifer had to be scorching hot with a face that could be sat on.
So-called Lucifer suddenly cracks a grin and chuckles, narrowed eyes snapping to him. “Why’d you just laugh?” 
“Nothing,” The man shrugs, amused eyes scanning you over. “You’re kinda cute.” 
You scowl at him sternly and roll your eyes, clearing your throat as you address him. “Well, Mr. Lucifer-” 
“Jungkook,” he gestures with a hand before folding his arms. “Just call me Jungkook.” 
“J-Jungkook.. what in God’s name are you-or not God. What in hell’s.. the devil’s name?” You become confused trying to form the question, pensive finger to your lips. 
“What am I doing here on Earth, is what you’re asking?” 
You nod with big, curious eyes, though still hold an adorable amount of annoyance within them Jungkook couldn’t help but notice. Said man flashes an evident look towards your lips before he continues. “To be honest, miss. I have no clue.” 
You purse your confused petals as you figure  that’s not exactly much to go on. You wonder what a celestial being of such high caliber could possibly be doing on Earth, let alone appearing to you like some rockstar that missed out on his opening act for Elvis Presely. 
“You didn’t tell me a name.” 
Your eyes flicker to his. “Huh?” 
“Your name.. I don’t know it.” He flatly remarks as his hands slip into his pockets, still eyeing you, almost examining you with that intense stare that seemed to burn you alive. 
“O-oh, right. My name..” You nervously laugh, arms crossed over your chest. “Y/N.. Y/N Y/L/N.” 
Jungkook jerks his brows in amusement, doing that thing where he tongues his cheek, and now you suddenly wonder why he plays around with his tongue so much. “That’s a nice name.” 
“Thanks,” you rigidly respond, not exactly knowing what to do. You’re all but traversing the many thoughts swarming your head; is this even real? Is this a dream? Is this some sort of colossal, sick joke someone’s playing on you? 
But you’re interrupted by the sound of a sudden gurgle, knowing you’ve already eaten dinner, and discerning it’s coming from your otherworldly companion. 
“Umm, are you hungry?” 
“Shit, is that what this is? Hunger?” Jungkook pulls a disgusted expression and pretends to throw up, lamenting horribly. “Fuck, I really am human.” 
You roll your eyes as he puts on a show of fake-sobbing, his pretentiousness eliciting a scoff from you. “Look, do you wanna eat something or starve?” 
Jungkook lightly pouts his lips as his shoulders slump and hands falter, eyes suddenly much more innocent. “Eat, I think? It’s not good for a human to not eat food, right?” 
You realize with such a question how little knowledge Jungkook possesses on humans, and with a hard sigh, you nod as you lead him towards your kitchen. 
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You watch Jungkook literally devour all the leftovers you housed in your fridge; fried chicken, some old Chinese, even the pasta and ravioli you’d left earlier today all down his stomach. You feel full just watching him when you lean your elbows over the counter, seriously inquiring about him. 
“So, wait, repeat that again?” 
Jungkook scarfs down a slice of pizza in practically a whole second, speaking messily through a full mouth. You try not to grimace. 
“Basically, I was cast out of hell and now…” Jungkook swallows as he reaches for a tall glass of water. “I have to find my way back in.” 
You blink multiple times to compute the information. “So for some reason you were kicked out of hell, and now you need to find your way back? Why the hell were you kicked out in the first place?” 
“I have no clue,” Jungkook takes another swig of water to wash down the dense content of his food. “All I know is that I need a way back in.” 
“Do you at least know how? Or what you need to do?” 
You watch him slam down your glass after finishing off, and now, you find every plate you presented to him nearly wiped clean. “I have no clue about that, either.” 
You deadpan. “What the fuck?” 
“Look, human. All I know is that I can find the answers I’m looking for. I just don’t know where to start.” You sigh, cradling your cheek in your palm as you watch him pat a napkin to his lips, and all of a sudden it draws attention to the soft petals. 
Why are his lips so damn kissable?
Jungkook’s eyes suddenly flicker up to yours and you snap out of your trance, swallowing. “W-what? Have you never been on Earth before?” You internally facepalm yourself for your idiotic stutter. 
“Nope, not at all.” 
You narrow your eyes. “Then how do you even know how to act like a human?” 
Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to deadpan, an elbow coming up to rest on the table as his other hand cups over his thigh, leaning in. “Are you forgetting who I am, angel?” He smugly asks. “I’m the devil, watching humans is part of my job.” 
You shoot him a testy look for the pet name again, but become curious of his job all of a sudden. “What do you even do as Lucifer? Sit on a throne and hear the screams of poor souls perishing in hell’s fire?” 
Jungkook genuinely laughs at your words, and you become even more annoyed. “What?!” 
“You’re quite right,” Jungkook sends you a proud nod, though he suddenly leans in closer, and he’s now bridged the gap between you and himself over your kitchen counter. He’s close, close enough you catch a whiff of this crisp, warm, though attractive scent off him. It was practically beckoning you closer with each breath in. The heat that radiates off him is almost scalding alone, swallowing as his proximity calls this certain side of you to jump out. 
Or more so, jump him. 
Jungkook smirks again, wetting his lips. “But I’m also the king and master of sin. I draw people’s deepest, darkest secrets out of them. All the bad in them.” 
He deliberately eyes you, almost too hard. It's as though he’s searching every crevice of your mind and can suddenly see all the hidden, disguised aspects of yourself. Now the air’s suffocating, those searing eyes you swear turn scarlet at one point so immensely bewitching you, it’s hard to look away. 
You can feel this almost magnetic pull towards him, eyes darting down to those cute lips of his again. But you immediately brush it off, knowing men like, well, devilish men like him love using their charms to entrance whomever they deem weak enough to fall into the trap. 
You scoff, looking away. “I’ve gotta take a shower.” 
You abruptly rise from your seat. You swipe your phone with you as you watch him settle into his chair, arms folded and now appearing very bored. You sigh as you glare at him, wondering how you’re meant to keep Lucifer of all people entertained. 
A question pops into your head, having mulled over it since you’d nursed him on your couch. “Hey, demon.” 
His gaze flickers to you, chewing on his lip. 
“Do you have a place to stay?” 
You watch as Jungkook actually becomes uncharacteristically shy, shifting awkwardly in his seat. “Not exactly, no.” The column of his throat bobs as he gulps. “Why? Are you trying to kick me out?” 
You laugh, covering your smile when you do. “No, I’m not like whatever higher power that casted you out of hell.” 
Jungkook’s smile returns then, less snarky but now actually more.. charming? “Funny and cute. I like you, human.” 
You narrow your eyes with a curt reminder. “Human’s not my name, demon.” 
“And demon’s not mine, either.” You contort your lips into an annoyed pout and stare him down. He returns the challenging look, though lightens up for his next question. “So.. can I stay here?” 
You don’t take much time to consider your answer, knowing your empathetically-cursed character could never deny the homeless man shelter. “I guess so. I don’t think it’s smart to let you roam the human world with your little knowledge of it.” Jungkook moves to deny you the insult of his pea-sized brain, but you calm him down. “I don’t mean it offensively. I mean it for your safety, Jungkook.” 
He settles down, understanding. “Yeah, I get you.” 
Jungkook seems to then regard you with a much more amicable look, his eyes conveying unusual, though present gratefulness. Suddenly you become interested in exactly how human Jungkook really is, seeing as he appears as human as it gets, but exactly how Lucifer is he still? 
“If I may ask.. are you really.. human on earth? As in.. do you have a different form in hell?” 
Jungkook finds the question endearing, laughing a little. “Not really. I appear like this in hell too, all the way down to my outfit.” He gestures towards his attire. “Though in hell I have wings. My eyes permanently glow red and I usually have flames surrounding me.. mainly my wings.” 
You’re stunned, now contemplating the image of Jungkook with these wide, gorgeous wings. You’re left completely speechless, envisioning the flames that probably burst out of them like a Phoenix rising from the ashes. 
“They must be beautiful.” You don’t even realize you let your thoughts slip aloud, regaining focus when you see Jungkook smirk through a laugh. 
“I-I mean.. are you sure you’re human? I mean your skin and all.. do you even need to sleep?” 
Jungkook tilts his head side-to-side for an unsure answer. “Eh, it’s different now that I’m on Earth. In hell, I’m at full power and never need to sleep, eat. Shit, I don’t even feel pain. My flames act as a sort of protective shield, I never incur injuries.” Jungkook elucidates casually.
 “But it seems the rules are different for me on Earth. I get hungry and thirsty. And this,” he gestures towards the small bandage you placed over his cheek wound. “Means I don’t automatically heal, and the exhaustion in my body means I also require sleep.” Jungkook simultaneously yawns as he informs you, covering his mouth. 
“And your skin..? Is your body entirely human?” 
Jungkook cracks a chuckle and his devilish eyes land on you, staring into your soul yet again. He props off his chair without warning and suddenly steps towards you, towering over your smaller frame again. His eyes remain locked with yours as he removes the lapels of his jacket, peeling back the item as he tongues his cheek. The action calls attention towards the sharp edge of his jawline, noticing how attractive it makes his thick neck appear. 
Fuck, if only you could mark a neck that pretty. 
The sound of his sudden snort reels you back into reality, watching him strip his jacket off.
“Jungkook-” You panic to cover him, but he continues, tossing the jacket onto the couch behind you as he then employs his fingers towards his nearly sheer, black-patterened dress shirt. You grow nervous as you watch him dislodge each button, wanting to avert your eyes and do so, but something about him beckons your sight back. Eventually he casts his shirt open, and your eyes nearly fall out of your sockets. 
Jungkook is ripped, as in he has the sexiest body you’ve ever witnessed in your entire life. The Statue of David must be jealous, hell, Aphrodite herself would probably choose Jungkook over ugly ol’ Adonis; that is how gorgeous he is. 
“Touch me and see for yourself.” 
You gulp, wide eyes flashing towards him. “Huh?” 
His lips curve into a smug grin, emphasizing his already drop-dead gorgeous face. “If you want to know whether I'm human or not, touch my body.” 
You suck in a breath, suddenly his open shirt exposing his sculpted torso is making your brain go haywire. The deep timbre of his voice saying such words already have you in shambles, wondering when he became so goddamn irresistible?
You can see each divot and protrusion of his muscular body, his abs prominent and his chest downright sinful. Though it’s his tiny, almost delicate waist that has you swooning, practically drooling over the hour-glass figure of his stunning, practically ethereal body. 
You snap a look at Jungkook, and his eyes await you as he watches with pure mirth. You hmph, acting as though this isn’t a big deal when you step closer and slowly, but surely press your palm to his chest. You lose air the second you feel the rock hard muscle.
Fuck, can I squish my face between his pecs? 
You shake your head and hear Jungkook let out the tiniest of laughs, shooting him a grumpy look. You then carefully traverse his skin, being able to feel the beating of his heart, the flesh and blood that make up his body. He feels warm.. almost too warm and it’s as though he’s.. calling you. Your body feels that magnetic pull again, wanting to either devour him whole or litter his body with your sinful kisses. 
It rushes through your veins and floods your lungs, filling your bloodstream with this instinct to simply jump him, touch him, bring this ravenous, dark side of you out into the world. Your breathing increases speed; suddenly he’s all you see and you can feel your body needing him just like you need air, like you wouldn’t survive without him until.. you pull yourself out of the trance. 
You physically rip your hand away and breathe erratically, as though you weren’t yourself just now. Your perplexed eyes blink multiple times to allow the rush to subside, and swallow harshly as you look away from him. 
“What.. what is that?” 
“What’s what?” 
“That-that thing. That fucking attraction to you or whatever..” 
He displays a lop-sided grin on his face as he quirks his brow amusingly, scoffing. “I’m Lucifer, angel. I breed sin wherever I go.” 
“What-what do you mean?” You peer at him with annoyance but also.. intrigue? This was oddly interesting to you, never have you felt the effects of something so utterly hypnotizing, attractive, alluring.  
Never have you felt your heart hammer and mind race like that. 
Jungkook makes it a statement to subtract the space between you two, your bubble invaded by his bare body as he carefully circles a palm around your arm, searing eyes boring into yours. “It means whatever sin you think of; lust, greed, gluttony, envy. They’re all heightened when you’re close to me, and worse if anyone’s lucky enough to touch me.” 
Your vision locks with his, finding the explanation to that scalding heat of his body. 
He’s goddamn Lucifer. 
“But.. I touched you.” 
He breathes a laugh through his nose. “And I don’t let just anyone touch me, angel.” 
You narrow your eyes at him, tugging your arm out of his hold. “Why do you call me angel?” 
Jungkook lightly gestures towards your chest area, and before you can grow offended over his line of thinking, you flicker downwards to find that your pajama t-shirt for tonight has the word ‘angel’ written across it, then adorned with wings and a halo around the text. 
You scoff, returning to him. “Really?” 
“That, and you seem to radiate the energy of an angel.” 
“And how exactly do I seem to do that, demon?” 
Jungkook’s fingertips find themselves preoccupied with feeling a piece of your hair, letting himself watch the action with a faint smile. You would smack his hand away, but his softer eyes look towards you, and you swallow nervously when you feel that heated attraction to him once again. 
His open shirt is already difficult to ignore, and you can’t seem to want to shove him away.
“Angels are pure, and true. They’re virtuous and serve the good of the universe.” You feel his hot breath tickle your skin as he decreases the gap between you two. His eyes remain locked with yours as he releases your hair. “But one thing to be known about angels,” He leans in closer, and pierces your soul with his searing heat. 
“They’re not as innocent as they seem.” 
He does it again, peering as if he knows something about you, deliberately searches your eyes as if he can sift through your mind, and you need to simply break away from him. His lips are too close and fuck, do you already find his lips so goddamn kissable. Not to mention this now supernatural pull you have towards him heightening your darkest desires. 
“I’m gonna take a shower, busy yourself in the main area.” You mutter almost incoherently. 
And all you hear is Jungkook’s muffled laugh as you scurry away. 
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The sounds of the TV running quirks your brows, ruffling a towel against your damp hair as you enter the living room. 
You find the odd sight of Jungkook holding a remote in his hand, lounging on your couch as he watches an episode of Friends. A laugh escapes you, not having ever imagined Lucifer doing something as mundane as watching TV. 
His eyes shift towards you at the sound of your chuckle, Jungkook sitting up much straighter. 
“Welcome back, human.” 
“It’s my house, demon.” 
Jungkook kisses his teeth as you approach him, your towel hanging around your shoulders. His eyes remain on your face for a while, though they travel down your body with a little scan. You realize it’s your short-cladded legs he’s observing, then returns his sight to you. 
“What are you wearing?” 
“Pajamas?” You answer him with a chide. 
He purses his lips in this certain manner of understanding, leaning his arm against the back of the couch, legs manspreading almost indefinitely. This is when you earn the opportunity to really view Jungkook’s legs, and fuck, are you goddamn mesmerized. His strong, thick thighs are hugged snuggly by those leather pants, and they do him a damn service by emphasizing their muscular, sexy build. His legs are also long, you notice, perfectly presenting his lap to you and it takes every ounce of your being to not so obviously look at his bulging crotch; naturally bulging crotch may you add. 
I swear if he’s packing too, this’ll just be unfair. 
Jungkook cracks a scoff all of a sudden and you narrow your vision, scrutinizing him. 
“I asked you a question?” He suddenly says.  
“Huh?” You blink; he must’ve queried you when you spaced out. “What did you ask?” 
“I asked if that’s how humans usually dress for the night.” Jungkook repeats himself. 
“Well, yeah. You wanna be comfortable when you’re sleeping, less clothing is usually the answer.” You reply honestly, arms crossed over your chest that adorns no bra. “You’re a guest in my home, and this is how I dress.” 
“You consider me a guest?” Jungkook inquires with a slight smile. 
“Well, yes. To be fair, I’m the one who brought you to my home, you didn’t infiltrate it or anything.” You offer him a shrug. 
You watch Jungkook genuinely grin at that, amused eyes flitting to you. “You’re nice, human.” 
“Thanks.” You’re not sure how much a compliment from Lucifer matters, but you take it anyway. 
“Oh shit, you don’t have anything to wear tonight, do you?” 
Jungkook’s round eyes wander off in thought, and it’s now that you notice his eyes are actually quite.. cute. “I don’t think so. I assume sleeping in an outfit like this wouldn’t be comfortable, as you say.” 
“Yeah, just hold on. I’ll come back with something.” 
You return to Jungkook with a set of comfortable clothes in hand, presenting them to him. “Here, I think these should fit.” 
Jungkook quirks a brow as he peers at the clothes with incredulousness, then you. “You’re going to make me wear that?” 
You roll your eyes as you regard the Hello Kitty shirt and grey sweatpants in your hands. “This is my biggest oversized shirt, okay?” You attempt to defend yourself. 
Jungkook appears as though his ego is hurt, a baffled hand to his heart. “You expect Lucifer, the king of hell, to wear something like this?” 
“It’s either this or no clothes, buddy.” You try to reason with him. 
Jungkook smirks then, standing to his feet before you with an amused and suggestive attitude. “I mean, I don’t mind not wearing clothes. But I think the only person that’s gonna have a problem with that is you, angel.” 
God, his eyes just scream the fiery pits of hell and mischievous mirth, who fucking knew Lucifer could be so obnoxious? His sense of confidence is suffocating and he seems as egotistical as the high school captain of a football team. 
You shove the clothes into his, dare you say, rock hard abs and huff with a scowl. “Just take the fucking clothes and change, demon.” 
Jungkook scoffs with barely-there acquiescence, inspecting the clothing items as he picks out the sweatpants. “These sweatpants don’t look like they belong to a woman.” 
“They’re not mine.” You absent-mindedly grumble as you make your way towards your kitchen, deciding on tidying up the many plates Jungkook left scoured from his feast. 
“Whose are they?” 
“Ex’s.” You reply flatly, compiling the plates together and nabbing the utensils he used. 
Jungkook nods in understanding, though now seems a bit out of place holding the pants. He reveals what could’ve been... sympathy? Pity? You don’t know. 
“Why are they in your apartment?” 
“He left them here after I kicked him out.” Jungkook notices the way you seem too casual while washing the plates, querying again. 
“Why did you kick him out..?” 
You set down the plates harshly in the sink then, producing a loud clattering noise. “Could you just fucking change?”
You didn’t mean to say it so sternly and with a cold-cut tone, but you settle once you see the taken aback expression on Jungkook’s face. You bite your lip as the water runs over your now cold hands, sighing as you return to your dishes. “I’m sorry. Just-get changed, please? That outfit must be bothering you.” 
Offering your words a little sweeter this way seems to dissemble the look of surprise on Jungkook, nodding as he visibly zips his mouth shut. Jungkook then begins to unbutton his pants right before you, undoing and just about tugging them down until you rapidly hold up your soapy hands to halt him. 
“Wait-wait! Not here!” 
“What?” 
“Don’t get changed in front of me, change in my room or something!” You attempt to mask your line of sight. No way would you goddam let yourself see whatever beast Lucifer is hiding in his leather pants. 
“And why would I need to do that? Haven’t you seen a man naked?” 
You roll your eyes at his snarky remark, knowing there’s got to be another smug grin on his rideable face right now. “I have but I haven’t seen you naked. Just change in my room please.” 
Jungkook lets out a grievous huff as he fixes his pants back on. “Fine, I’ll be back.” 
He snatches up his clothes and finds his way to your bedroom, shutting himself inside after flashing you a purposefully saccharine grin. You exhale once he’s disappeared, now running through the millions of thoughts that plague your mind. 
Is this really what your life’s now come to? Housing Lucifer in your home? You do digress on the matter that it’s not his fault. He’s been cast out of hell for a reason he doesn’t know, and it’s not like he was provided an elaborate guide on how to get himself back in either. 
You assume it must do with learning a valuable lesson or performing some sort of task, though it’s not like you know what the mighty powers above have in store for an already ethereal being such as Lucifer. You weigh your options here, maybe you can simply let him live here as a roommate until he can find a way back, right? 
Considering he has no means of living in the real world; ID, wallet, phone, fuck, even a passport, he won’t be able to get around easily. So for now, you might as well let him slumber with you until he deals with whatever introspective prospect of himself he needs to clean up. 
Your bedroom door clicks open as you find Jungkook emerging in your ex’s sweatpants that actually fit him quite well, and a stifled giggle escapes you once regarding him in your blush pink Hello Kitty t-shirt. 
“Well, you look just about ready for your hellish throne, don’t you?” 
“Fuck you.” He harmlessly exasperates, dragging his feet towards you with slumped shoulders. “You couldn’t have found me a shirt that maybe had anything to do with hell? Like that one sitting on your chair by your desk?” 
You scoff, scrunching up your facial features in disbelief. “No way would I give you my Thrasher t-shirt.” You glower. “It’s my favourite t-shirt.” 
“And I’m about to become your favourite person soon, hand it over.” Jungkook holds out his palm and requests the shirt with an arrogant curl of his fingers, sending him a deadpan expression and shoving his hand aside. 
“Maybe if you help me clean up my apartment and the dishes I’ll consider the offer, demon.” 
Jungkook rolls his eyes, kissing his teeth yet again. “You made a mess of objects in your apartment by throwing them at me, and now I have to clean them up, human?” 
“Who’s the ‘human’ that’s keeping your identity as Lucifer a secret and is letting you live here for free?” Jungkook pulls his lips back guiltily at that, pursing them with an affirmative nod before reluctantly getting on with his task. You quietly huff as you watch him compliantly clean up the mess, glad that he can at least follow instructions. 
It boggles you actually. Did you just instruct Lucifer, the obnoxious ruler of the Underworld to do something, and he listened? Do you now have one of the most powerful beings in the universe wrapped around your finger for offering your home? The thought paints a smirk onto your face. You did not begin this Monday at all thinking you’d be in the good graces of the devil himself. 
Too preoccupied with your thoughts, suddenly a searing heat beside you startles you. You peer up to find Jungkook slotted right next to you and picking up the dishes you’ve sudded up, silently rinsing them with this pout on his lips that seemed like a natural habit.
Cute.
You quirk an inquisitive brow though, hands having stopped moving. “What are you doing?” 
“I’m helping you?” He replies obviously. 
You absorb the kind gesture and loosen up a little. “That’s.. kind of you.”  
“What? Didn’t think Lucifer could be kind?” He’s teasing you now, his eyebrows jerking in an amusing way that shows you he just loves the game. You roll your eyes, nudging his elbow as you bite back a smile. 
“Get to work, demon.” 
Jungkook suppresses a grin. He rather contorts his lips in acquiesce as he continues to wash diligently, humming a tune very similar to The Beatles’ “Devil in Her Heart”. 
And you quietly chuckle. 
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“There,” you gesture with an accomplished grin, hands perching onto your hips. You and Jungkook both look on at a makeshift bed you had crafted for him in your room, eyes peering at him for approval. 
He observes it with a critical lens, pensive pointer finger and thumb stroking his chin. “Is this meant to be where I sleep?” 
“Of course, where else would you sleep?” 
Jungkook’s eyes flicker towards your queen-sized bed and very obviously gestures towards it. “Maybe on the entire bed in your room? Did you think I don’t know that humans sleep in beds?” 
You exhale with irritation, palm smacking your forehead. “You can’t just sleep in my bed, genius. I barely know you!” 
“And what’s so bad about a man and a woman sleeping in the same bed?” Jungkook questions argumentatively. 
You send him a glare. “Like I said, I don’t know you and your intentions, and sleeping is when humans are in their most vulnerable state.” 
Jungkook contorts his lips with dislike. “I’m not going to unsolicitedly touch you or anything, if that’s your concern. All you are is a measly human to me, I have no attraction to you.” He holds up a hand in protest. 
“Excuse me?” You gasp. “Are you saying I’m unattractive?” 
“So now you want me to think you're attractive and want to unsolicitedly touch you?” 
You halt once you see the flaw in your argument, brewing in resentment as you watch him grin proudly. “That’s what I thought, human.” 
“Fine, you know what? Either you sleep on this lovely bed I made for you on the floor, or you sleep on my couch.” 
Jungkook sticks his tongue out and blows a wet raspberry, arms folded over his hard chest. “Fuck your couch, it put this damn crook in my neck.” 
You clasp your hands together and emphasize the most pathetically sympathetic pout in the universe. “Awh, did little Luci get an ouchy?” 
“Are you asking me to burn your couch? Because I’ll do so without hesitation, angel.” 
“Ugh!” You suddenly burst out into figurative flames, standing square before Jungkook to address him seriously. “Alright, demon. Since you seem to be the epitome of a picky child, you can sleep in my bed with me.” 
Jungkook’s face purposefully lights up like an elated child, gasping comically loudly just to get on your nerves, but you halt him with a finger. “But, we’re putting a barrier of pillows between us.” 
Jungkok scoffs with folded arms, hating that the action called attention to his bulky, bulging biceps in a funnily contrasting women’s shirt. “Not like I wanted to cuddle with you and catch your human disease, anyway.” 
You exclaim disapprovingly at the way he spits the term, hands perched on your hips with a speedy retort. “Well fuck you and your smoldering heat, demon. When I asked for a new furnace I didn’t mean you.”
Jungkook childishly mocks your expression, rolling his eyes. “Whatever, if you need a furnace then clearly it gets cold at night, and then we’ll see who’s cuddling up to who for heat.” 
You watch him practically throw open your covers and shuffle inside, hmphing as you step off in search of your light switch and shut it off. “Whatever.” You weakly grumble back. 
You settle into your covers as you harshly shove a bunch of pillows between you and Jungkook, not even daring to spare the infuriating man a look, turning completely away from his figure. You huddle into your side like a fetus once the night really kicks in, cursing your goddamn furnace for supplying such sparse heat while your window leaks chilly air through the old cracks. 
You shiver all while Jungkook seems to completely knock out in peace, most likely from his first oh so tiresome day being human. You’re welcomed by his light snoring for hours as you roll your eyes in contempt. 
Wanting to pin it on him for so irritatingly interrupting your much-needed sleep, you become annoyed not just with Jungkook’s snoring, but that he was right. 
You really wanted to cuddle up to him for some goddamn warmth that night. 
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You bop around to the Beatles’ 1963 track Jungkook was humming last night, pushing around some strips of bacon in your pan, messy hair tied and in your lounge wear. You’d cracked a few more eggs and cooked more bacon for your annoyingly hellish acquaintance. 
The chilly night really didn’t serve you well as you froze in your spot, only shuffling towards Jungkook after peeking at his slobbering, snoring state of sleep. You were thankful he still radiated such an abundant amount of heat, that finding relief in the small waves you could feel even over the pillow barrier wasn’t too difficult. 
Your pride kept you from removing even a single cushion. 
You produce playful noises from your lips as you busy yourself, setting up some breakfast considering your house does not only have a population of one anymore, but two, and it still continues to shift the axis of your world. 
Was last night really your reality? Are you sure that wasn’t just a wild figment of your imagination? It had to be, even if you believe in the supernatural, there was no way such a superior celestial being could so casually be a guest in your home. 
You’re reminded of that certain special guest when you suddenly hear a loud thud in your bedroom, concerned eyes perking towards your ajar door. 
“Demon?” You call. 
You gain no answer, wondering if you truly did just imagine all the events from last night. 
“Jungkook-!” Said man tumbles out of your room then, groggy as all hell as he lazily rubs his eyes and appears to you as death himself, though still delectably hot. 
Ugh, fuck him. 
“Y/N.. shit.” He addresses you, and suddenly the deep, gravelly tone of his morning voice makes your core inadvertently clench. “Y-yes?” 
“I crashed into your damn vanity in the bathroom.. why is everything of yours so tiny?” He complains first thing in the morning, now remembering just how frustrating the king of hell really is. 
“Maybe you’re just too big, demon.” He grunts his response, stalking over to you as he can’t seem to adjust to the morning light filtering into your apartment. 
You watch him approach you, gathering the necessary tableware for a quality morning breakfast. “How’d you sleep, demon?” 
Jungkook’s barely-open eyes scrutinize you as he seats himself on a stool by your counter, covering his mouth when he yawns. “Meh. I had this… this thing. I saw these pictures in my head when I was sleeping…” 
“A dream?” You assist him as you pour out a glass of milk. 
“Yeah, whatever the fuck it’s called. Anyway, I think.. I think I saw something that’ll help me get back to hell.” 
That pries your eyes open with intrigue, setting the glass of milk down for him on the counter. “Oh shit, already?” 
He nods, and you find it actually quite endearing how much his hair was tousled into this attractive bed-head, eyes puffy, lips pouting. “I saw this club.. I remember seeing it when I used to be in hell.” 
“A club?” 
“Mm,” he replies with a confirming hum as he reaches for the glass, lightly inspecting the drink as he continues. “It’s this exclusive club only for celestial beings. I heard about it sometimes among my demon subjects, but I was too busy being the mighty king of hell to give a crap.” He haughtily regards himself as he takes a moderate swig of the milk, licking his lips as he nods in approval of the beverage. 
“I like this, what is this?” 
“Milk,” you elaborate. “What about this club?” 
Jungkook takes another lazy sip as his eyes scan over the food you now plate on the counter. “Well, it’s obviously only meant for celestial beings. Demons and angels. I’m thinking if I can find even one of my demons, I could find out where the club is, and then figure out why I was kicked out of hell.” 
“Ohh,” you remark with understanding, setting aside the pan and spatula, while nabbing two forks from a drawer. “So you just have to visit this club then, correct?” 
“Correct,” Jungkook answers. “There’s just two things.” He begins as he takes the fork you hand him with ease, impressed by his adeptness for such human, mundane things. 
He must’ve watched humans for a brain-numbing amount of eons. 
“One, this one’s mainly angel territory.” 
You raise your brows in question, arms crossed and eagerly interested in the information. “There’s more than one?” 
“There are clubs scattered around Earth, it’s to allow celestial beings a place of refuge when they visit here.” Jungkook explains. “I remember seeing an American flag when I landed here, so I’m assuming I’m in America, and the only existing club here is in Chicago.” 
“Chicago?!” You exclaim with utter shock. “That’s across the entire country from here!” 
“Not the point, human.” He cuts you off with a finger. “Point is, that club will be crawling with angels, and as Lucifer they may not welcome me with open arms.” Jungkooks sets his fork down against your counter with a sigh, almost seeing his mind shift its locks and gears. 
“The only way I’ll be able to get in is if..” He pauses, serious eyes locking with yours. “Is if I bring a human with me.” 
You blink; rapidly, then slowly, then rapidly again somehow hoping it would change what you just heard. “Come again?” 
Jungkook sighs, his facial features already telling you he finds this difficult to discuss. “This club in Chicago is angel-dominant, meaning demons need to bring a human companion in order to get in. Like a truce, a sign we mean no harm.” Jungkook elaborates. “And even as Lucifer, I don’t think my charms and wit alone can get me through considering my less powerful, human form.” 
You scoff at him shamelessly tooting his own horn, wondering if he’ll ever tire of it. “Sounds like a real pickle, Luci. Wonder where you’ll find yourself a ‘measly’ human.” You snark with a snort, placing the milk back in your fridge and reaching for your mango juice. 
You swivel back around to a Jungkook who doesn’t smirk, nor grin nor tongue his cheek condescendingly, but simply leans his elbows over the counter and pressingly peers at you. As if communicating with his eyes alone… 
No, no way. No way in the fiery pits of Jungkook would you goddamn do this. 
“Jungkook, don’t you dare..” 
“Human.. it’s important.” You scoff through a humourless laugh, setting down your carton of mango juice and gesturing towards yourself in disbelief. 
“Me? You want the human to be me?” 
“Y/N…” Jungkook quite gently calls your name, a complete contrast to his arrogance and while the sound of your name on his tongue lights something within your chest, you can’t help but snort with utter derision. 
“No. I’m not fucking accompanying you all the way to Chicago just for some innocence show-and-tell.” You immediately deny him, contemplating just how crazy this is. How in the world could you just up and leave for some travelling with the devil all the way across the country? You couldn’t even take a goddamn flight considering dear-old Lucifer’s lack of passport ID. 
“Y/N.. look. I know it’s not ideal for you, but this is seriously important.” Jungkook emphasizes with a persuasive tone. “I need you…” 
Those last three words and the look of pure need in his eyes tug at the strings of your weak heart, groaning in complaint. “Jungkook, you can’t be serious. I-I have a life here! I have friends and a job and not to mention school starts back up for me in a month-” 
Jungkook suddenly rises from his seat and paces over to you, grasping a careful hold of your hands and the innate warmth he emits from his skin actually feels.. comforting. 
“Y/N, look. I get it. You have a life here on Earth, a place where you belong. But I have a life in hell, a place where I belong. Wouldn’t it be best to just accompany me and get me back to hell so I can get out of your hair?” 
“Jungkook…” You counter with an uncooperative tone, eyes communicating sympathy, but you can’t offer him the help he needs. “I can’t.” 
“This will benefit both of us, human.” Jungkook convincingly states. “I go back to hell faster, and I leave you alone faster. I know how much you don’t want me here.” 
You hesitate, eyesight faltering to your connected hands; his thumbs are actually soothing the back of your hands? When did he start doing that? 
“That’s not exactly true…” 
“Y/N, just come. I know it’s asking a lot but I really need this.” Jungkook pleads. 
“And what will you do for me in return if I come with you?” 
“Oh, Y/N, I’ll do anything. The faster I can get back to hell the faster I reclaim my full powers, and I’ll grant you anything you desire. I promise.” You’re uncertain of how strong a promise from the devil could be, deterring you from giving him an answer he wants to hear. 
With a sad sigh, you disconnect your hands from Jungkook’s. “I really can’t, Jungkook. It’s non-negotiable…” 
You watch as the usually confident, cocky man falls into an expression of glumness, silently retracting his hands. He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly as he acquiesces, though seems silently upset. “Okay..” 
The gloomy pout to his cute lips does you in. “Look, Jungkook. I’m going out with friends tonight for drinks at this bar. Maybe you can tag along and you can easily find another human? I’m sure any girl would be willing to roadtrip with a super handsome guy like you across the country.” You attempt to present a peace-offering with a joke, hands shoved into your sweater paws as you hug your chest. 
“But those humans won’t be like you..” He groans with a huff, eyes evading you. 
“And what’s so different about me?” 
“You already know I’m Lucifer, that makes things 100x easier for me.” He argues. 
“Well, I found out and I ended up accepting you. Who’s to say you won’t find another human like that?” You plead your case, but Jungkook just scoffs in reply. 
“Please, do you not remember what happened when you saw that I was Lucifer?” You recall the fiasco of forks, flinging and feathers, sighing once you see his point. “Exactly. Besides, you saw me as Lucifer by accident, I can’t just be revealing my identity to anybody. It’s not allowed.” 
“But I know..?” You question genuinely, gesturing towards yourself. 
“Like I said, by accident. Though I’m assuming the Council won’t see it that way, and they’ll come for me anyway.” Jungkook more so mutters to himself as he frustratedly tongues his cheek and steps around, brewing with stress. 
“The what?” You question. 
Jungkook rolls his eyes, as though now registering just how annoyingly human you are. “Think of them as angel police, yeah?” 
You mimic his tone purposefully and he impersonates you back, scoffing to end the interaction. “Look, if you already have these angel police people on your ass then what’s the harm in telling another human? They’ll be chasing you anyway.” 
Jungkook laughs dryly, looking away from you as he shakes his head. “I can’t just do that, that’s not how it works.” 
You sigh, watching the way his jaw flexes because he’s grinding down on his teeth too hard, a clear sign of his anger. You hate that it emphasizes the sharp edge of his jawline, and that it’s actually fucking hot. 
He suddenly breaks into the slightest laughter that holds some amusement, wondering what he’s laughing at. Nonetheless, you decide to defuse this situation and try to comfort him. You meant it when you said last night you wanted to be in Lucifer’s good graces, but also remain in them no matter how irritating he is. 
You approach him amicably and grasp his bare bicep, brushing his arm in support. “Look, Jungkook. Just come with me tonight and try, okay? Maybe your answer is just an arm’s length away.” 
Jungkook’s eyes find yours, and you watch them glimmer with something akin to understanding, surprisingly loosening up at your touch. Though his irises are soon blanketed with his signature mirth as he eyes you, feeling the heat of his body suddenly radiate off him like a heatwave. 
“You sure you want me to come tonight, angel? Your friends may think I’m your scorching hot boyfriend.” 
You produce an appalling noise of disapproval, removing your hand from him and shaking off his Luciferness. “Fuck you. I’m telling them you’re my roommate and that’s final.” 
“And where exactly did you find me as a roommate? On the street?” Jungkook laughs as you shoot him a crabby glare, not missing the way his amused eyes flit over your figure with almost… likeness? 
“I’m telling them you’re a co-worker. No way am I saying I just found you on a whim, they’ll think we’re-” 
“We’re sleeping together, right?” 
You grow aggravated by the sly way he’s folded his arms and does that stupidly attractive thing where he tongues his cheek, fed up with his suggestive fun. You quickly snatch your kitchen towel in your hands and roll it up into a punishing device, rapidly smacking at him. 
Jungkook exclaims playfully as he dodges your hit. “Wo-hoah, human. Didn’t I tell you angels are good and pure beings? They don’t hit people.” He laughs as you grunt in frustration and follow his retreating form for another whack, actually landing it against his arm. 
“Hey, bad angel!” Jungkook tuts you light-heartedly as he cleverly evades your angry attacks. You hate that even while he’s riling you up, you actually liked the image of his glowing, entertained smile, his cute teeth reminding you of a bunny. 
“Says the obnoxious Lucifer!” You holler loudly in complaint, chasing him while your once warm breakfast turns unfavourably cold. 
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“And this is Jungkook, my co-worker!” You cheer as you present Jungkook to your group of friends, earning wide smiles and gawking eyes from your female friends and equally surprised male friends. 
“Hey, everyone.” Jungkook waves with a confident smile, showcasing his adorable teeth for a lovable grin. 
Did he seriously have to be cute too?
You snap out of it once you see your friends all greeting him kindly, Jungkook only left to shyly smile and reply shortly to all the inquiries he gains. His lost eyes find yours and he reveals genuine fear in them, silently requesting you to come join him and let up the traffic of questions. 
A snort escapes you as you watch on, who knew Lucifer could actually be awkward? You swear he should’ve been a natural with people, though you contend he just doesn’t do well with so many questions at once. 
To be fair, he’s never been around other humans before either. 
You grant him mercy by sliding in beside him, shooting pleasant grins all around as you answer the dozens of questions your friends ask about your new gorgeous co-worker. 
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“Doesn’t he just look like one of those men that’ll eat you out until he can’t breathe?” 
“Oh for sure, looks like he’d stuff himself full and even when you tell him to breathe he just says no.” 
“Hell, he’d be that type that pulls your hips back down over his face when you try to let him breathe.” 
“Guys..!” You interject as your friends Madison, Naila and Kiara all giggle together. You’re all huddled together drinking by the bar as your friends become more interested in observing Jungkook in all his dripping sexiness. 
And to be honest, you don’t really blame them, he’s wearing that scorching hot leather outfit again. 
“Y/N, seriously. How could you not tell us someone that hot worked with you?” 
“This has got to be a crime, were you gate-keeping him?” Naila suddenly complains as you quell their grievances. 
“Guys, he just.. got transferred to my department recently. He’s new.” You find a quick enough and convincing lie. 
“How did you two end up even living together? There had to have been some sort of meet-cute.” The girls all gush together when Kiara asks, all eyes shifting towards you as they excitedly await an answer. 
“Well.. we just.. got on the topic of him needing a place and we hung out sometimes. So I offered my place.” 
“And?!” 
You feel slightly cornered, but confidently answer with another white lie. “And he said okay.” 
They all squeal together like teen girls, honestly finding amusement in their reactions. “Ugh, you’re living the dream, Y/N.” Madison suddenly slings an arm around you and tugs you towards her, gesturing towards nothing that indicates her depiction of ‘the dream’. “You’re in a roommate situation with an absolutely scorching hot guy, you’ll totally end up either falling in love or banging him!” 
“What?” You squeak as you throw back a shot of tequila Naila handed you. “No way will that happen, he’s obnoxious as hell!” 
“Ugh, babes. Even if he’s obnoxious I bet that dick isn’t.” Kiara jokes and the girls all chuckle together, tipping back their shot glasses after filling some back up. You roll your eyes and smack her arm as she exclaims, trying to lighten you up. 
“Y/N, c’mon. You deserve to have some fun after that shitty fucking ex of yours. Live a little, ya know? Whether it’s love or dick, they’re both great remedies.” 
You scoff as your lips hover over a shot glass, eyes wandering the club as if you're occupied, but really, you know it’s in an effort to look for Jungkook. It’s funny you act like you don’t know where he is, when you know his exact location. 
Your eyes flicker across the bar, finding Jungkook having casually slipped into conversation with the boys tonight. He was laughing and happily tipping back shots himself, amused that he at least eased up and found some company with your male friends. 
Sights absorbed in suddenly eyeing him, it’s truly difficult to pry your gaze away. No way was this Jungkook’s impact of being Lucifer, you now knew you needed to be very close, or at least touching him in order to feel those effects. So why is it that you still feel this magnetic pull towards him? Can’t help but not only find him incredibly sexy in his usual outfit, but something so mysteriously alluring about him? 
Your body wanted him, you knew that much. Anyone with eyes and functioning reproductive organs would know that, but you couldn’t shake off the fact that it wasn’t just your body that wanted him.
He was just so intriguing, and you wanted to know more. 
Suddenly, Jungkook’s eyes casually shift from your friend Hobi he’s speaking to, and locks with your gaze across the bar. You freeze, eyebrows raising as you hesitate to take your shot, caught in a stare with him you can’t break. 
Jungkook stares back, and he stares goddamn good. He tongues his cheek again irritatingly and you try to swallow down the way he makes your core light up. Jungkook then tilts his head a little downwards with a cracked smirk, before he peers up at you again with eyes so devilishly smoldering, you could feel a sweat break out at the nape of your neck. 
You gulp as Jungkook then tips his head to the side with a light furrow of his brows, as if questioning you what’s wrong, and you lightly nod to him nothing. He laughs a little, hating that he finds this somehow amusing. You’re in the middle of narrowing your eyes at him until Naila interrupts you, Jungkook cleverly looking away then. 
“See, they’re practically eye-fucking already!” You shoot them all an annoyed look as you grunt in complaint. 
“Are you sure you guys aren’t together?” Madison inquires. “It seems like he already likes you, babes.” 
You click your tongue in disapproval. “He just likes to tease me, guys. Drop it, would you?” 
“As long as you land on his face, then everything should be good.” The drunk girls giggle together, and you can’t help but snicker at the joke. You contemplate in your tipsy head there really is something about Jungkook’s smoking hot face that makes it seem so rideable. 
“I’ll be back, guys. Stay here.” You instruct the girls as you set your shot glass down. You weave through the throngs of people mingling and dancing in the bar, ignoring your girls’ hollers of encouragement as you bee-line towards Jungkook. 
You reach the occupied man and tug lightly at the end of his sleeve for his attention. “Jungkook!” You shout over the blaring speaker the guys are all near. 
Jungkook’s vision snaps to you as he simultaneously touches your wrist to acknowledge you. Your skin ignites at a simple touch of his, feeling a rush you’ve never experienced before. You blink it away before lightly tugging him aside, speaking to him. 
“What’s up, human!” The booming bass of synth-pop beats abuses your eardrums, requiring both you and Jungkook to yell at each other. 
“Why haven’t you talked to anyone yet!” 
“Huh!” He hollers in response.
You exclaim in complaint as you lean in a little towards his ear, shouting louder. “I brought you here to talk to someone and bring with you, why haven’t you been talking to anyone yet!” 
Jungkook draws back and signals to you he can’t hear, rolling your eyes and curling your palm around his wrist, dragging him through the crowd. You tug him into the secluded restroom area where it’s much quieter, the shut door closing out the music. 
“Ah, that’s much better.” Jungkook notes. 
“I was asking if you’ve talked to anyone about Chicago yet, Jungkook.” You repeat yourself from earlier, hand still holding onto his wrist. “That’s what I brought you here for, remember?” 
“Hey, I’ve been talking to people,” Jungkook defends himself, though his expression falters into one of hesitancy. “Kind of..?” 
You glower at him, “Jungkook, what do you mean by ‘kind of’?” 
Jungkook sighs, shoulders slumping as he surprisingly doesn’t even make you let go of him. You can feel that rush of his energy coursing through you, but you manage the invasive feeling as you focus on the conversation instead. 
“I’ve been trying to get it out of me but.. I just never end up asking.” You exclaim in annoyance as you scold him.
“Jungkook, why not?!” 
“Because it’s just weird, okay, Y/N?” Jungkook argues. “I’m meeting these people for the first time, I can’t just fucking ask them to hitchhike with me all the way across the damn country.” 
“But it was completely okay to ask me?” 
Jungkook kisses his teeth with a roll of his eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you you’re different, human?” 
“Well, I’m not any different when you always call me a ‘human’ anyway, demon.” 
Jungkook becomes fed up with your pestering and scoffs. “Whatever. You’re the only human I can do this in front of and not have someone screaming their head off.” Jungkook emphasizes his point by conjuring up a hot flame from his palm. His suddenly glowing red eyes also appear, shooting you an ‘I-told-you-so’ look of challenge as you glare back at him. 
You’re seconds from retorting until you’re suddenly interrupted by the shrieking of a woman. You’re startled as your unsuspecting vision falls to a random stranger who had just ventured out of the bathroom and…
“Fire, fire!” 
You and Jungkook both look at the flame in his palm, then towards the woman in fear, finally locking anxious eyes with one another and panicking. Jungkook puts out the fire and you rapidly approach the woman to calm her down, hoping nobody can hear how goddamn loudly she’s screaming. 
“Shh, oh my God. It’s okay, it’s a prank. It’s a prank!” You repeatedly yell in order to shut the lady up, but she keeps yelling and trying to make a horrified break for her purse. She scrambles inside and you both watch her fish out a small bottle of something that’s engraved with almost-visible writing.
Holy Water. 
“A demon, it’s a demon!” She shrills so goddamn ear-splittingly, you and Jungkook leap into flight mode. He engulfs your arm in his and tugs you towards him urgently.
“Y/N, we have to go!” 
You curse repeatedly as Jungkook swings open the doors to the club and you shoot the woman apologizing glances, begging for her to put a damn sock in it. Jungkook takes the lead as he drags you out into the bar. He rapidly pulls you through people and ensures he keeps a tight hold of your arm, tugging you incredibly close to his own body as some sort of shield. 
Your friends end up seeing you both fleeing and shooting you looks of either ‘what the fuck’ or ‘get it on!’ as you practically hide your face in embarrassment. You and Jungkook hurtle out into the blissful night as he tugs you both down the way he knows you parked your car. You grunt in raging frustration once you realize that you parked it far with this place being downtown. 
“Ugh! You just had to fucking use your powers out in the open!” You complain aloud while you run with Jungkook, not caring now for the few late-night city stragglers hearing you. 
“Not my fault you keep nagging me about finding another human!” Jungkook argues as he continues pulling you down the road, the fear of authorities being called by the random woman scaring him. “Do you see now why you’re the only one who can come with me?!” 
You whine as you consider he’s correct, there’s no use in him searching for another human for ages when you exist right before his eyes. “Fine, fine! I’ll fucking go with you, asshole! Can we just stop fucking running?!” 
You become too tired to keep up with Jungkook, feet aching in your shoes once you realize how fast Jungkook was going, hands dropping to your knees as he releases you. 
“You… you run.. fucking fast.” You heave for air as you register the sweat on your forehead, having participated in too much exercise just now. 
“I’m a little faster as Lucifer, human.” Jungkook elaborates oh-so-obviously as you wave him off, squawking for air as though you were a fish out of water. 
“You okay?” Jungkook asks as he nears your bent over form with a hand, and you swallow harshly as you tell him to give you a minute. You’re focusing on resupplying your lungs oxygen until you suddenly feel arms cupping underneath your body, and are unexpectedly hoisted up in the air. 
You squeal as you find Jungkook’s lifted you off the ground bridal-style, freaking out at just how strong he is. “J-Jungkook, put me down! You can’t carry me all the way to the car?!” 
Jungkook swiftly ignores you as he begins jogging towards the direction of your car, and quite frankly does so almost too easily. “I’m fast and strong as Lucifer, human. I can handle you.” 
Jungkook quells your worries as your round eyes watch him flash a look down at you, and try to stifle the flutter of your heart when he shoots you a show-stopping smile. 
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It was the day of your trip, and having woken up at the ass crack of dawn to get on the roads early, you and Jungkook currently load your car with your luggage enough for two weeks of travelling. You groan as you rub an exhausted eye, yawning when you feel sleep still beckoning you to your warm bed. 
You stand frozen in your spot as you refuse to move the suitcase resting at your feet, rather staring at it with delirium instead. 
You feel a sudden nudge to your shoulder, finding Jungkook settling beside you. “Hey, sleepyhead, get moving.” He instructs in rather a light, encouraging tone, finding that very different from his usually pushy tone. 
Sight still filled with sleep, your eyes remain locked on Jungkook shooting you one last look before he’s hauling a duffle bag over his shoulder, and carries another heavy suitcase effortlessly, hating that it all made his biceps pop so goddamn sickeningly.
Did Lucifer really have to be ripped?  
You roll your eyes at how unfair this is; Jungkook having begged you last week to take him on a small shopping spree so he had enough trendy clothes to wear and didn’t have to keep sporting your Hello Kitty shirt. Not only that, but you had to spend even more bucks purchasing him necessary things to even live in the human world; his own toothbrush, cologne, hell, even boxers were on the list with Jungkook’s shameless ass promising he’ll shower you in gold once he’s ruling hell again. 
Jungkook suddenly waves his hand before your eyes, perking up as your eyes shift upwards to accommodate for his height. “Hello, human? I need you with me.” 
You blink rapidly. “Yeah, yeah. I’m here.” 
“You okay? I know you didn’t sleep well with everything you needed to arrange.” Jungkook’s palm curls around your arm, carefully inspecting your features. “How was your call with work?” 
“Not terrible. They were kinda pissed. I was asking for vacation time at the last minute but when I explained it was a family emergency, they weren’t so annoyed about it.” Jungkook approves of that as he rubs your arm supportively. 
“I promise we’ll be back in two weeks, and your life will go right back to normal, human.” Jungkook grants you another promise as he sends a small smile, earning a miniscule, tired grin from you. 
“Did you get the last of everything from inside my apartment?” You gesture towards your building. 
“Yeah, I got everything. Just your suitcase left.” You nod in understanding as you bend down to lug at your suitcase. You struggle as your palms fasten onto the bag but find the weight too much for your flimsy arms. You make a rather resilient effort to tug it towards the trunk of your car with all your might, until Jungkook’s hand suddenly replaces yours on the handle. 
His presence casts you aside as he shoots you a tight-lipped smile and lifts your luggage himself, tucking it into your trunk effortlessly and shutting the hood. You stand frozen at the sudden kind gesture, brows furrowed in confusion. 
Did he just do something nice for me? 
You decide not to snarkily comment on it, instead shutting your mouth and making towards your beat up Prius.
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Ironically, AC/DC blasts through your car’s speakers, snickering a little once you consider you genuinely are on the ‘Highway to Hell’. 
Your laugh catches Jungkook’s attention, who’s enthusiastically pretending to drum the exact beats of the rock song. With your peripheral, you find Jungkook completely enjoying himself before shooting a look at you, then back out on the road again. 
You and Jungkook were about 2 hours into driving now, having decided to blare the music in order to keep each other awake in the early morning. 
“You sure you don’t want me to drive, human?” Jungkook asks as he settles in his seat, getting comfy as your hands remain at ten and two. 
“Nah, it’s okay. If I don’t drive I’ll fall asleep.” 
“You kinda look like you need it.” You shoot him a glare as you move a hand to smack at his arm, to which Jungkook hisses and tuts. 
“Hey, focus on the road, will you?” 
You hear him laugh while you roll your eyes, returning your hand to the steering wheel. “Fuck you, do you even know how to drive, demon?” 
“Of course I do. It isn’t too difficult.” Jungkook shrugs as though you were both discussing apple-picking. 
“And how to hell do you know that?” 
Jungkook scoffs a dry laugh, taking a long, deep sigh. “Sweetheart, you have no clue how long I’ve been watching humans.” 
He reclines back in his seat as he shuts his eyes, tossing the heels of his shoes over your dashboard until you swat violently at his legs, sneering reprimandingly. “Hello? This is my car? Get your dirty feet off.” 
You shove his legs off and Jungkook awakes with a disagreeable scowl. “What the fuck? Can’t a guy goddamn rest?” 
“You’re Lucifer, Jungkook. Not a human, remember?” You purposefully chide with a saccharine tone, and you listen to him scoff. 
“Whatever.” 
“Awh, he’e becoming more human everyday.” 
Jungkook mocks you before you find his arms tightly folding over his chest, huddling against the window as he genuinely attempts to get some shut-eye. You presume he’s not so used to needing sleep. 
“Do you even know if this is the right way, Jungkook?” You ask, ensuring with him every now and then if he wasn’t just simply leading you to your demise somewhere. Who knows, maybe the real way for him to get back into hell is by sacrificing a human life through a ritual or something. 
You shiver hoping that’s not true at all. 
“Yes, I know..” Jungkook grumbles with his closed eyes and an exhausted body, watching him peacefully come to rest. 
You decide to not bother him considering he did complete most of the work packing and loading all your luggage for the road trip this morning, needing to have woken up before you for the task. You shoot a glance at his resting state, his lips falling into that pout you’ve now noticed over the week, in fact, is a natural habit of his. 
He usually makes it when he falls asleep. 
With an acknowledging side-grin, you turn down the volume of the music, and focus on driving again. 
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“You just had to eat all the Fuzzy Peaches, didn’t you?” 
“No I didn’t, there were only three left once I even got the bag, it was you.” 
“And you couldn’t spare some for me? I’ve been driving for 4 hours!” 
That particularly stupid argument is what led both you and Jungkook to pull into this convenience store along the side of a quite bustling street. Car washes, lauder mats, even a brunch diner were all located in this small plaza ‘Ed’s Convenience’ was also in. Across the street from you was a supermarket, the rest of the area littered with stores whatever odd town in California housed. 
Currently, you were waiting for Jungkook to return to you from the convenience store. Despite now knowing him and his tendency to snack a lot, you allowed him to take your card after he promised that you would be given the choice of always deciding where you eat. 
You had to seriously discuss with Jungkook that money was going to be your biggest issue on this trip. Considering gas, eating out, staying at hotels, a lot of your own personal finances were going to be depleted just for this 2 week trip. Jungkook yet again, promised indefinitely that once he returned to hell he would be able to conjure up triple what you spent on him, along with a slew of fake-sobs that you reluctantly agreed to in order to shut him up. 
You roll your eyes remembering the interaction, having set a strict rule with him that your money will have to be managed and budgeted very well while on this trip. Sometimes you would both have to survive on convenience store food, sometimes it would be best to just camp out in the car together rather than always spending nights at crappy motels. 
The sound of gravel crunching catches your attention, soon finding Jungkook appearing before you. He was wearing black ripped jeans, combat boots, black shirt all tied together with his leather jacket, holding a bag of convenience store goodies as he plopped down next to you on the trunk of the car. 
He currently munches on some gummy worms as you watch him, finding that he probably appeared the most innocent when he was eating. His eyes go round as though he’s a child eating food for the first time, and he chews in his adorable pout you can’t help but admire, rather ironic for the sinful king of hell. 
You never expected to see him in such a domestic, human state. 
His eyes flash to you and you wake up from your trance, clearing your throat before flickering back to your laptop screen. “You’re back, demon.” 
“Mm,” he hums, reaching into his bag and suddenly presenting you with a bag of Fuzzy Peaches. You raise your eyebrows in surprise as your hand tentatively clasps around it. 
“For me?” 
“Well, you threw a whole tantrum over em’.” 
You immediately move to elbow him but he defend himself, laughing as he presents the bag of candy. You accept the bag with a scoff, disguising the grateful smile and flutter that threatens your heart at the gesture. 
“What are you looking at?” He inquires with narrowed eyes to get a better look at the screen. 
“Google maps. I know you said the club you need to visit is in Chicago, but do you know the exact location so that it’s easier once we’re in Chicago? I need to know which highways to take.” 
Jungkook nibbles on the last of a gummy worm as he pouts his lips in thought, watching the clear blue sky above him. “I told you, we’d have to ask one of my demon subjects in order to find that out.” 
You nod in comprehension. “Do you know anyone we could possibly visit for an exact address?” 
Jungkook reaches inside his packet for another bite of a gummy worm. “I do. I think most of my subjects would know, though the only one I can recall the exact location of is a demon named Azazel.” He snaps a piece of his gummy worm in half, bringing one of them to his lips for a nibble as he details. “He’s one of the Princes of hell, serves right under me. He likes to hang out at this one place in Nevada I think. He’d definitely know where the celestial club is located.” 
You purse your lips as you absorb the information, checking it through with him. “Prince of hell?” 
“Yeah,” Jungkook nods. “They’re these 7 princes that are meant to represent the Seven Deadly Sins. They’re a ranking just below me, powerful beings but they’d never dare defy me.” Jungkook proudly remarks, watching the way he straightens up his slouched back and squares his shoulders. 
“That’s interesting. Which sin does this Azazel demon represent?” 
“Lust. Or, well, vanity.” Jungkook clarifies. “But when I say he’s a super weird one, I mean it. He’s got his own very… unique tastes he thinks very highly of.” Jungkook grimaces as he seems to remember something bone-chilling about the demon. He then laughs, however, finishing off the last of his gummy worms as he regards you beside him, trying not to squirm at how much larger he is than you, or how he even makes damn ripped jeans look scorching hot.  
“Take a guess where you think we’ll find someone like him?” 
You furrow your brows as you tilt your head in question, Jungkook’s eyes lighting up at the adorable gesture of yours. “Where?” 
6 hours later, you stand frozen, mouth agape, legs unmoving. You listlessly stare at a loud, flashy neon-pink sign that depicts the image of an erotically-posed woman wrapped around a pole, along with the name “The Devil Wears Prada” ironically plastered underneath in cursive. 
It’s a fucking stripclub. 
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You peer at Jungkook absolutely bewildered, blinking a few times to compute whether or not he was serious. Jungkook merely stands all too giddy, arms folded over his chest as he flashes you a beaming smile. 
He’s having way too much fun with this.
“Jungkook..” You draw out his name with a scolding. 
“Oh c’mon, Y/N, it’ll be fun.” He attempts to warm you up to the idea, nudging your elbow too adorably. 
You shoot him a dirty look and snatch your arm away from him, exhaling annoyingly. “Did it really have to be a stripclub?” 
“Why?” Jungkook queries. “Have you never been to one?” 
You freeze, suddenly a lump forming in your throat and trying to swallow it down. You’re not sure how you’re going to tell Jungkook that you actually have without revisiting a long-gone memory from your past. Your eyes evade him completely then, squeezing your folded arms tighter. “I have.” 
Jungkook furrows his brows. “Is.. there a problem?” 
“No just-get us inside, will you? It’s not exactly warm out here.” You begrudgingly complain as you harshly tug your cardigan around yourself. You hate that the temperature suddenly dropped significantly at night, leaving you freezing in your tank top, jean shorts and a measly wool cardigan. 
You internally groan then, not just at the weather but standing in front of this Godforsaken place. The entire idea of a stripclub is off-putting to you, and it’s not like you’ll tell Jungkook exactly why. 
You didn’t want to recall the god awful person attached to it. 
All of a sudden, you’re enveloped by the warmth of a jacket around your shoulders. You surprisingly snap to your right and find Jungkook adjusting his cozy leather jacket over you, warm from his usual higher temperature. Your lips fall into a quizzical little pout. 
“Why’d you...” 
“Let’s go inside, we don’t want Azazel leaving, do we?” 
You regard Jungkook with round eyes as he simply sends you a smile, halting yourself from swooning over the deadly image. He wraps a warm palm around your wrist and drags you to the entrance of the club, silently following him with the hint of a shy smile. 
A long line awaits outside the door, but Jungkook confidently stalks over to the security guard on duty. The man almost protests angrily until Jungkook glowers at him with his crimson eyes, sending the man to instantly shiver with fear. He graciously opens the door for you both without a hitch, even granting you VIP access badges. 
Impression is all that colours you as you contemplate Jungkook’s mere unmatched power, knowing damn well you’ll refrain from pissing him off too much, You slip inside the lively club with Jungkook, and unconsciously slide your fingers into his with acutely rising nerves, squeezing slightly. 
And surprisingly enough, Jungkook squeezes back. 
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Your pairs of once peaceful ears are welcomed by the sound of raunchy music blasting over the speakers, scantily-clad women dancing on a neon platform with a shimmering pole, and also decorating the many suit-wearing men in the crowds. 
You feel out of place, awkward, only having been in a stripclub once, and it was not your best experience at all. You clasp Jungkook’s hand a little harder this time, even cowering into his much larger form as people pass you by and disregard all means of space. 
Jungkook’s eyes sweep over the place with nothing but mischief and mirth, watching his eyes smolder a fiery red with a smug grin.
“Fuck, now this is my place.” This must be exactly where Jungkook thrives; sin litters this place from left to right and you assume it’s channeling his powers of pure evil. 
You fear a human possibly sighting his Lucifer eyes though, and quickly prop yourself on your tip-toes. Your hand curls over his shoulder and you speak to him in his ear, Jungkook instinctively bending down. “Jungkook, your eyes.” 
“Hm?” His round orbs stare into your soul inquisitively, and you suddenly realize he actually has very big eyes, almost doe-like. 
“Your eyes, they’re red. Someone will notice.” 
“Oh,” Jungkook blinks a few times and dials down the heat, dispersing the colour. “Better?” 
“Better.” You nod. It takes a good second for you to notice how close your faces are to each other, however, and your breath catches in your throat. Jungkook’s lips curve into a little smile when he sees that, becoming too swept up in his ocean and immediately removing yourself from him. Only your hands clutch each other as you avert your sight. 
You continue to evade him and Jungkook instead zeroes in on you, scrutinizing your features. “Are you okay?” 
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” 
“Oh my God, don’t tell me you totally lied about going to a stripclub.” Jungkook drawled. “You’re so innocent.” 
Jungkook makes it a statement to ruffle the top of your head, and you quickly smack his hand away as you send him a death glare. “I’m not lying, for your information. I have been to a stripclub, and I’m not that innocent.” 
You have no clue the things I’ve thought of.
Jungkook cracks a sexy grin. “Hmm, are you sure about that?” He leans in eye-level with you suddenly, and you lean back in accordance. “I’m sensing something else here.” 
“The only thing you should be sensing is Azazel, demon.” You shove him back and Jungkook lets out a hearty laugh, rolling your eyes in response. 
“You’re right, I actually can sense him. He should be here.” Jungkook scans the place with his demonic eyes, attempting to discern where exactly Azazel may be. 
You’re busy hmphing when you move to cross your arms, and realize that Jungkook, while distracted, is still holding your hand. You peer down at the means of contact, feeling a warm, fuzzy feeling suddenly spreading across your chest. You push it away once Jungkook turns to you, ensuring he doesn't catch you staring at your connected hands. 
“I think he may be in one of the VIP rooms, I’m going to check, okay?” 
“Wait,” you pull him back, Jungkook all ears for you. “Why are you going alone? I can’t come?” 
Jungkook chuckles a little. “Demons usually take up the vip rooms in this club,” Jungkook then suddenly tugs you towards him without warning, and you tumble directly into his chest. You peer up at him in complete surprise, only to find his smile absolutely shit-eating. 
“I wouldn’t want an angel like you in a den of sinners.” 
Your heart hammers against your ribcage, being this close to him just sets off an insatiable fire inside you that’ll never have an explanation anymore. Maybe it’s Jungkook’s attraction as Lucifer, you’re not sure, but suddenly feeling his chest against yours, mere inches from his lips, his eyes only on you in a room full of exotic, topless dancers, you feel yourself falling into his abyss. 
Why can’t I just kiss his cute lips?
A shove to Jungkook’s shoulder by a stranger snaps you out of it, immediately adding space between you two. “G-go find Azazel.” You see Jungkook crack a knowing grin before he holds up his hands in mock surrender. 
“Alright, alright.” He vindicates himself, but suddenly winds an arm around your shoulders, his lips brushing your ear. He tugs you close enough to catch a whiff of the coffee you both drank on the way here, trying not to ignite at the feeling of his lips touching your skin. 
“Stay here, don’t talk to anyone. Don’t take a drink from a stranger either, only wait for me.” He instructs firmly with a squeeze to your arm, turning to the side to question him why, but Jungkook has already let you go. He disappears into the crowd and booming club then, before you can even breathe. 
Damn, he really is fast as Lucifer. 
You suddenly become reclusive in the grandiose, erotic club. All you see are boobs and sexy women flaunting their gorgeous bodies, and as much as you find it downright impressive, respecting the hell out of the stunning dancers, a pit settles into your stomach.
Stripclubs just aren’t your thing, they never have been. Especially after what your asshole of an ex did to you in a stripclub before, they unsettle you to the very core. It brews a storm in your heart you can’t remedy nor can ever forget, sighing as you suddenly wish Jungkook didn’t leave you alone. 
What the fuck? When did you even need his presence around in the first place? 
You shake the jitters out of you. You won’t let some dark part of your past haunt you anymore nor think about the literal devil himself, you’re far beyond that and a healed person. 
You sigh as you contemplate what you’re meant to do now, Jungkook’s instructions of staying put and not even touching a drink producing your sheer boredom. You stand with your arms folded and step towards the bar ensuring you weren’t in the way of any dancing women, or didn’t catch the eye of some ogling man waving money. 
Blowing a raspberry, you silently bop around to a sultry rock beat as a new stripper presents herself on stage. Your own eyes are glued to her almost instantly, surprised by how gorgeous she is and mentally commending her for her graceful figure and well.. generous assets. 
Out of boredom, her show becomes your center of attention until a sudden tap to your shoulder turns you around. You come face-to-face with a very handsome bartender. 
“Sorry to interrupt, but this drink’s for you.” He sends you a polite smile. 
“Oh, but I didn’t order a drink.” 
“I know, I ordered one for you.” You’re internally taken aback by not only the man’s boldness, but his drop-dead gorgeous smile. A grateful grin creeps up onto your lips as you chuckle a little.
“And why did you do that?” 
The handsome stranger shrugs. “It looked like you needed one.” 
You slowly wet your lips as you try to keep from smiling too wide, encircling the glass. “That’s awfully kind of you.” 
“Don’t mention it,” he waves you off. There’s a simple moment where you’re merely looking at your glass, taking it in your hand for a drink until Jungkook’s voice rings clearly in your head. 
‘Don’t drink anything either.’ 
You furrow your eyebrows wondering why you exactly couldn’t. You teeter on either defying him or simply choosing to listen, not knowing how severe his order was. You buffer on the drink until the man’s rather hypnotizing voice pulls you out. 
“So.. what’s a woman like you doing here all alone?” 
You quirk a brow. “And who exactly is a woman like me?” 
“Too pretty to be alone.” 
You crack a chuckle at that, the charm he’s laying suddenly loosening you up. “That’s a good one.” 
“Good enough to know whether you’re alone or not?” 
You hesitate on an answer here, not knowing his intentions but giving him an honest answer nonetheless. “No, I’m.. not here alone.” 
“Are you here with a boyfriend?” 
Your heart stops at that, someone referencing Jungkook of all people as your damn boyfriend feels ridiculous. Even imagining such a thing leaves you sneering, and no the idea does not make your heart swell or your chest flutter. In no corner of the world will you find even a measly speck of you considering Jungkook as your boyfriend, a good idea. He’s only the smoldering hot king of the underworld that seems to actually be nice despite being the master of sin, has these cute doe eyes when he’s confused or these pouty lips whenever he eats. 
And he does not have you undeniably attracted to him. 
Not at all. 
“N-no, not my boyfriend.” You choke on your saliva. 
“Ah, so I don’t have to worry about a jealous man or anything.” He smirks all too handsomely. 
“And why exactly would a jealous man bother you?” 
“Because I’d like to make you mine tonight.” 
You feel your heart experience whiplash in your chest as you feel it bloom with fuzziness. Suddenly his smile is show-stopping, the way he leans over the counter emphasizes his muscles and his black button-up hugs his body like a second skin. 
“Have a drink and loosen up, gorgeous.” The smoldering bartender tongues his cheek, and suddenly his jawline is looking too good to not kiss up.
With a smirk of your own, you run your tongue inside your cheek as well, a fire lighting inside you. Your fingers curl around your glass of what seems to be a cocktail, suddenly thirsty for a drink. You eye up the handsome stranger as you bring the glass to your lips, tipping your drink over. 
“What the fuck are you doing?” Jungkook’s voice startles you as he suddenly clamps down on your wrist and displaces your drink, spilling some on you. “Didn’t I tell you not to drink anything or talk to anyone?” 
His sudden rude tone ticks you off. “Jungkook, it’s just a drink-” 
“Hey, man. I was just talking to her.” 
Jungkook’s eyes immediately become annoyed regarding the stranger behind the bar, quickly approaching him with a furious look. “I’m not some ‘man’, and I know you aren’t either.” 
Jungkook then violently grabs the bartender’s collar and tugs him over the counter harshly, the anger in his eyes absolutely searing. You panic as Jungkook’s harsh actions catch the attention of others nearby, your glass now empty as it spills over. 
“Jungkook-!” You try to pull him back, only to be completely surprised with what you see next. 
Jungkook’s eyes spark into a demonic fire as he stares into the man’s very soul, and you watch as the bartender’s irises suddenly reveal a deep shade of red himself. You falter back in shock as the man’s features immediately paint over with terror so horrific, he scrambles to be let go of.
“Sir, please-” 
“Get the fuck out of my face.” 
The once smirky and charming bartender turns into the equivalent of a crybaby, practically tripping over his feet as he runs off to cower away in the employee’s break room. Jungkook without a word snatches up your hand and begins leading you through the club, ignoring the concerned eyes that follow you two. You’re overridden by a million questions as he relentlessly pulls you, not even granting you a moment’s rest.
“Jungkook, Jungkook! What are you-” 
“Did I not fucking telling you to stay put and not talk to anybody? Did you think I said that for fun?” 
The irritation in his tone makes you feel guilty, and maybe you’re realizing your mistake, but Jungkook didn’t have to be so damn pushy about it. 
“I don’t exactly see the problem-” 
“That was the problem.” Jungkook suddenly stops you both before a dimly lit corridor as he gestures in the direction of the bar. His breaths are hot and heavy as his eyes cut you cold. 
“And what kind of problem was that? He was just a bartender-” 
“He was a demon,” Jungkook emphasizes. “This place is crawling with them.” 
Something about the anger in Jungkook’s face either makes you feel turned on, want to argue back, or a deadly combination of both, 
Why is it so sexy when his jaw clenches like that? 
You try to ignore the way your legs suddenly squirm. “So what if he was a demon?” 
Jungkook scoffs dryly, wetting his lips as he looks away. “That’s what the demons do here. They reel human women in with their charms, roofie their fucking drinks and get them alone.” He then mutters under his breath, focusing on nothing in particular with sheer indignation. “You have no clue the disgusting things he was thinking.” 
You scrunch your face in confusion. “And you do?” 
Jungkook rolls his eyes before he simply huffs, “it wasn’t hard to tell. Do you even know what a demon would do to an unsuspecting human like you?” 
His evasiveness and avoidance of making eye contact only increases your pissy mood, folding your arms with a pressing question. “And since when did it bother you what happens to me?” 
Eyes flashing to you, Jungkook only produces a mean look of hesitation. His jaw clenches as he gnaws at his teeth, lips impatiently pressed together. He then simply takes your hand in his, muttering yet again. “I found Azazel, let’s go.” 
And he drags you away as you unwillingly tag along. 
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You and Jungkook stop before a rather grand-looking door, noticing it’s probably the most expensive and exorbitant among the hallways. The entrance is perched by two guards on both flanks, a stern-looking man and an evil looking woman, both staring you and Jungkook down as though they could see right through you.  
Jungkook clears his throat, proudly presenting himself with a look of unbothered confidence. “Good evening, underlings. I need to see Azazel.” 
“And who might be asking?” The sultry woman practically slithers out her words. 
Jungkook rolls his eyes before he, for the dozenth time, flashes them his scarlet eyes, watching the stoic man raise his brows in surprised acknowledgement, as the woman merely shivers in pleasure. Both their own eyes glow a deep shade of ruby, and you now understand that they’re demons as well.
Did Lucifer have some sort of connection or invisible linkage between all demons? Was there something about his eyes? 
“Ah, the king himself is here.” She cheers, clasping her hands together with excitement. Her vision flashes down to Jungkook cradling your hand in his, though, but she doesn’t show any disapproval or bitchiness about it, rather seems intrigued. 
She abandons her post and makes towards Jungkook, her red dress accentuating every slim curve of her body. She laughs an almost harmonious giggle as her hands soon land over Jungkook’s chest, biting her bottom lip as she asks in a whisper. 
“Is it really you, master?” 
Jungkook merely laughs, tilting his head as he condescendingly asks. “Who else would it be?” 
Her eyes flicker with fire, fingers slowly feeling over much of Jungkook’s muscly body as he simply allows her to do so. His expression doesn’t really communicate much of anything however, as though he’s bored and simply letting the demon have her fun. Clearly the attraction to Jungkook isn’t just a human thing, he has practically all creatures on their knees for him, and he seems to know it too. 
Arrogant prick. 
A laugh escapes you suddenly, and the female demon’s attention immediately snaps towards you, eyes narrowed into slits. 
“And who might this be?” 
“None of your concern.” Jungkook tugs you a little closer to his body, almost shielding you. You can only intently watch, unable to do much of anything. But the female demon boldly ignores Jungkook, too enthralled by you to remain obedient. She approaches your figure with almost a cat-like nature, extremely curious and hyper-aware. 
You suspect absolutely nothing, until within the blink of an eye, she suddenly grapples the back of your neck and tugs you flush against her own face. You gasp in immediate fear when her fingernails transform into sharp claws. 
“Amara.” Jungkook scolds with a reprimanding tone as he squeezes your hand, but she only continues on, the bridge of her nose skimming the arch of your cheekbone. She actually sniffs you, and her lips curve into a downright demonic smile. 
Ironic. 
“A human..” She chimes lowly, but is only interrupted by an irritated Jungkook. 
“Amara, let her go. She belongs to me.” Jungkook instructs firmly, and your heart does a backflip inside your chest. When did you ever become his? 
Even worse, when did you actually like the idea? 
“Is that why she’s wearing your clothes, master?” She queries as her sharp hand rests over your shoulder, feeling at Jungkook’s leather jacket on you. “Master never gives his clothes to anyone.” 
The fact leaves your eyes widening, looking towards Jungkook who merely sighs. He then holds onto Amara’s shoulder and forces her to face him, seriously peering into her eyes. 
“Amara, let her go.” Jungkook’s eyes beam a vibrant red as he authoritatively orders. “I will not ask you again.”  Amara immediately lets you go then with thinly-pursed lips, holding her head up high as she returns to her post. 
Jungkook wets his lips in frustration before he turns to you and gently gathers your hair in his hands, carefully peeking behind your neck. He lightly whispers in your ear, “did she hurt you?” 
Ignoring the goosebumps that arise across your skin, your fingertips canvas over your neck as you feel the slightest sting in a certain area, knowing it must be a scratch. “Not really.” 
Jungkook laughs then, and you furrow eyebrows. “Why’d you just laugh?” 
“Because the desire to sin really does kick in when you’re near me, huh?” Jungkook’s pointer finger then slides over the exact cut you had, and you instantly let out a hiss. Jungkook knowingly grins. “You just lied to me.” 
You roll your eyes, seconds from swatting his hand off you until the sudden scent of coffee on his breath stops your heart. Jungkook casts your hair aside as he gently leans over your shoulder, and invades all your personal space. You’re unsure of what he’s doing until you feel his breath fanning you—he’s blowing on your cut. Surprisingly enough, it’s almost as though Jungkook’s delicate blows cauterize your wound, feeling your pain melt away in an instant. 
Sweeping your hand over the nape of your neck, suddenly it’s as though there was never a wound at all. You look at Jungkook with pure wonderment as he simply flashes you that sexy quirk of his brow and an attractive grin. Adjusting his shirt on himself, he then fixes his jacket on you, pulling it tight around your body. He turns back to the demons after finishing his task and grasps your hand yet again “We need to see Azazel, open the doors.” 
The stoic man that’s merely stood there the entire time silently clasps onto the handle. He opens the door without a complaint, standing off to the side. Jungkook enthusiastically tugs you along with him as you pass Amara, who only flashes a half-hearted smile your way before you’re greeted by something you never expected. 
Rouge curtains, a plethora of intoxicating incense, bright, vivid colours of Moroccan splendour designs attacking your eyes. The entire place is littered with these vibrantly coloured fabrics and charms, gaudy pieces of diversified collectibles and an odd earthy though spicy scent that made you throw up in your mouth. Though what catches you next are the multitude of nearly naked women sensually dancing and sitting around a quite eclectically dressed man, your brain far from boggled. 
The man’s too busy making out with a certain woman until Jungkook loudly clears his throat. “Azazel,” 
Said man, well, demon suddenly rips his mouth away from the topless woman, wiping some lipstick that smeared onto his skin. His hooded, hazed-over eyes are far more entertained when he regards Jungkook, however, lips curving into a mirthy grin. 
“My, my, if it isn’t the king of hell himself.” 
Jungkook purses his lips in acknowledgement as Azazel leans over onto his knees, waving off his dancing women. “Nobody told me you’d be visiting little old me.” 
“Maybe if you weren’t sucking the life out of female humans, you would know.” 
Azazel’s eyes bounce as though he were dealt a hit he actually liked, snickering in his throat. “A little too haughty for someone in your position, don’t you think?” 
Jungkook furrows his brows in confusion, and Azazel merely scoffs. “Think the whole of hell doesn’t know what’s going on with you, boss?” He questions rhetorically. Azazel then gets up from his seat, the women around him not even minding as they seem in almost an unbreakable trance. 
‘They reel human women in with their charms, roofie their fucking drinks and get them alone.’
Fuck, Jungkook was really telling the truth. Better yet, was he genuinely trying to protect you?
He approaches Jungkook, almost too close for comfort. Jungkook squeezes your hand in response, and you stay right by his side. 
“We all know the big man upstairs kicked you out of hell and you’re about as powerless as a mouse in a glue trap, boss.” The demon, you now realize, is almost ironically nothing what you imagined the demon of lust to be like. He seems the epitome of gluttony with his larger belly and older-looking features, honestly disgusted by him. Jungkook almost reads your mind as he makes an expression of distaste too, turning his face away from Azazel’s to actually breathe. He faces him then, eyes powerful and self-assured.  
“I’m still the king, and I rank higher than you, Prince of hell.” Jungkook squashes Azazel’s ego. “I’d watch what comes out of your mouth.” 
“And I’d do the same if I were you, boss. Right now it’s looking right about rocky for you with your powers gone.” Azazel practically, or well, quite literally spits. “I’m thinking you should choose your words wisely, could probably squash you like a pesky ant on the side of a road, Your Highness.” Something about the superiority complex and condescension of Azazel ticks you off. You turn to Jungkook trying to believe what the demon said isn’t true, but Jungkook’s acquiescing expression clues you in to the fact that that’s not the case. 
Maybe he really does have to play nice right now, you didn’t know the breadth of Azazel’s powers compared to a human Lucifer, anyway. 
Jungkook sighs as he tongue his cheek. “I just need to ask a question, Azazel.” He then instinctively tugs you further behind his larger frame, but that only draws Azazel attention to you, and suddenly his once normal eyes beam with an intriguing, red hot flame. 
“And who might this be?” His creepy voice curls around your spine and makes you shiver, sending him a look of disapproval. His hand comes out to cup your cheek but you immediately smack his hand, leaning away from him. 
His eyes glow with anger as he almost lunges towards you, but is stopped by Jungkook’s arm blocking the way. “Behave, Azazel. She’s mine.”   
“Ohh,” Azazel calms down with a snarky tone, eyes still scavenging your figure as though you were a meal to consume. “The master’s keeping a toy, I see.” 
The context of that leaves a bad taste in your mouth, watching Jungkook’s expression stay predominantly blank. He squares his shoulders when he requests again. “Just answer my question, Azazel.” 
The demon hmph’s as he sends you and Jungkook a death glare, returning to his seat. “Sit down.” He practically growls. 
Jungkook leads you with him towards the vibrant indigo, velvet couch across from the weird demon. Jungkook plops down on the cushions, and just as you’re about to seat yourself next to him, he immediately tugs you forward with a force you couldn’t deny. You tumble into his lap and your ass settles over his strong, thick thighs. Your arms naturally fall around his neck as his hands delicately hold your waist, panic overflowing you once your core presses into his crotch. 
“J-Jungkook, what are you-” 
“Shh,” he grits quietly under his teeth. “Just play along.” 
You pull a confused face, watching as Azazel becomes busy speaking with one of his scarcely-dressed ladies. “What do you mean? Why do I-”
“Azazel has a thing for human girls,” Jungkook whispers closely in your ear, hands slowly soothing your side that leaves you squirmy. He suddenly dares to nibble on your lobe a little, the touch igniting a lusty flame inside you despite the initial surprise. “Especially girls like you.” 
“What-what are you doing?” 
“Acting,” he rasps in a whisper, tongue gently licking at your lobe. “Play along.” He repeats pressingly. 
“What do you mean…” You attempt to suppress a yelp when Jungkook unexpectedly bites your ear lobe, only fidgeting over him more. “Girls like me?” 
You feel Jungkook smirk as he presses a bold kiss behind your ear, a hand of his dropping to your bare thigh. He ever so slightly brushes the tips of his fingers up and down your skin, fuelling every nerve inside your sensitive body. 
“Sweet and innocent ones like you.” 
His tone is so dark, so deep and low you’re forgetting where you even are. Your grip on his shoulders tightens when Jungkook skims his nose up your pulse point, his heated breath and lips raising goosebumps all over you. You chew on your bottom lip to contain how horny you suddenly feel, as though every cell in your body wanted Jungkook kissing you, on you, inside you. The hunger was insatiable, your legs rubbing together once your panties felt too sticky. 
“Since-since when did you care? I thought you hated humans.” 
“I said I hated humans, not you.” 
“You..” You contain a moan when he grips your bare thigh. “You said you’d never be attracted to a human like me.”
A scoff escapes him as his lips graze your skin, scrunching his shirt in your fist for any semblance of control. It’s hilarious that Jungkook is so transparent about insisting you’re different, but never explains why you are in the first place. His silence now beckons you to question him again, though it comes out more akin to a moan.
“Jungkook...” 
Jungkook then finally latches his wet mouth onto your neck, feeling your core gush with an immediate waterfall. He begins ever so slightly mouthing at your skin, laying soft kisses that were almost feather-like, barely there, yet you felt as though you were on fire. You realized he didn’t answer, wanting to query him again but fuck, you’re too goddamn distracted by his plushy lips sinfully kissing your weak spot. 
Suppressing a moan, you manage, “why are you doing this.. Jungkook?” 
“I need to show him you’re mine..” Jungkook mumbles against your neck as he sucks a soft bruise . “So he won’t take you.” 
His words snap you out of your daze, reminded that you and Jungkook are here for a goddamn task. He wasn’t doing this because he actually wanted you, there was an underlying agenda here and you need to stop getting sucked into his tempting ocean. 
You gently push him off you and find Jungkook’s amused eyes peering at you, cracking his signature grin. You realize you must appear flushed, the heat of Jungkook’s Lucifer body too searing to handle. 
Eyes locked in an untelling gaze, this position with Jungkook feels too unreal. You’re currently perched in his lap as you hold his neck and he hugs your waist, face mere inches from each other, almost kissing but not. You hate how much you suddenly yearn to kiss his lips, wondering if that certain Lucifer attraction is the reason why, or maybe Jungkook’s lips are just so fucking kissable. 
Jungkook doesn’t break your eye contact as he juts out his tongue to swipe his bottom lip, flashing his vision down to your petals that hang slightly open. You breathe carefully attempting to not suffocate, Jungkook is seriously, and very undeniably hotter than hell. You can almost taste the coffee on his breath again as he nears you, vision flashing to his lips that suddenly seem so close…
“Cozy, now aren’t we?” 
You both snap towards Azazel in unison, clearing your throat as Jungkook plants his feet down and straightens himself. 
“What’d you wanna ask, boss? Make it quick.” Azazal tends to one of his topless girls feeling him up, practically cooing at her as he speaks annoyingly. “I’ve got better things to do.” 
Jungkook rolls his eyes, his hand on your tummy drawing soft circles. You try not to melt. 
“I need the location of a club, Azazel.” 
The demon laughs across from you both, caressing one of his dancers that flank his left side. “There are many clubs, boss. You gotta be specific.” 
“You know which one I’m talking about,” Jungkook scowls, his palm firmly clutching your bare thigh, and you try not to imagine what he’d feel like touching you elsewhere. 
What if he touched me down there?
Jungkook suddenly squeezes your thigh and you practically jump, trying to refocus on the conversation. You attempt to not pay attention to the way Jungkook’s practically eye-level with your cleavage. The mere prospect of his sexy face in your boobs leaves your legs rubbing together, nipples shamelessly hardening. 
God, why are you so horny?
“Angels Give You Wings, you know the one.” Jungkook affirms, seriously trying to work with the rather disinterested demon. 
But once the name’s up in the air, Azazel’s eyes shimmer with mirth as his attention shifts to Jungkook. “The infamous club, you say?” he asks rhetorically. “You should know it’s in Chicago.” 
Jungkook sighs. “I know it’s in Chicago, but I need the real address.” 
Azazel raises his brows. “And why would you need the real address?” 
“It’s not exactly your concern.” Jungkook cuts in all too arrogantly, Azazel narrowing his eyes. He now examines you both, almost scrutinizing the pair of you as he touches one of his strippers. 
“You two don’t look very close for a couple.” Azazel observes, flitting over your entangled bodies. You become displaced, looking towards Jungkook for an answer. But you only find him glaring back at Azazel as he cradles you in his arms, practically demon-growling at him.
Azazel hoots as he watches Jungkook’s anger grow. “Wow, would you look at the master being possessive of his toys for once.” He smiles evilly, laying both his arms over the back of the couch with a repulsive look. “If you’re being possessive of her, then you ain’t getting jack shit tonight, boss.” 
“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Jungkok practically spits.
“It means,” Azazel mimics Jungkook’s harsh tone. “If you wanna know the address, you need to let me read her.” 
You furrow your brows as Jungkook heavily sighs, bringing a hand to his forehead with distress. Your fingers ask for his attention through rubbing at the nape of his neck, voice quiet.
“Jungkook, what does he mean?” 
“Oh!” Azazel cheers all of a sudden. “She calls you by your real name, master? That’s wonderful!” He claps like a happy seal, now understanding what Jungkook meant by Azazel being quite the... odd type.  
Jungkook lifts his head to look at you then, eyes revealing something akin to.. Fear? Stress? You couldn’t place it accurately. “I won’t let him have you, angel.” 
You’re sure Jungkook is probably only saying this to act like you’re together, hell, even his hands slowly but soothingly caressing your waist and thigh have all probably got to do with this ruse. But something about the reveal of emotion in his eyes maybe indicated he could be speaking the truth. 
Or at least, you’d like to believe so. 
“Hand the girl over, boss.” 
Something ticks inside Jungkook as he flashes his eyes a searing red, and practically sneers at Azazel. “You’re not touching her.” 
Azazel’s amused expression only thrives off Jungkook's anger. “Well then, you won’t be getting your address, then.” 
Jungkook huffs with a dry scoff. “I’m not offering her to you anyway.” He then pats your thigh to move off him. You climb off Jungkook’s lap as he stands on his feet with you, avoiding your eyes as you wonder why he won’t just give you up. He intertwined his hand with yours in mere milliseconds as he sends Azazel a death glare. “We’re leaving, angel.” 
“You’re funny, boss. How do you expect to get your address?” 
Azazel’s condescending tone stops Jungkook, and you need to seriously squeeze Jungkook’s hand tightly in order to prevent him from charging forward. You should’ve known, Lucifer would obviously be irrationally hot-heated. But, also being the representation of Pride among the so-called seven princes of hell, he absolutely hated it when someone knocked him off his high horse. 
And that’s all Azazel has been doing. 
“I can ask any other demon.” Jungkook grits through his teeth. 
Azazel clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Nuh uh. That’s an Angel-dominant club, do you really think some second-rate lackey could get in? It takes someone of my power-ranking or higher to even withstand those damn halo-wearing pricks.” 
Jungkook scoffs. “I’m Lucifer, Azazel. I can ask an angel.” 
Azazel snickers as though he were told an immature joke. “You really think an angel won't go straight to The Council and rat you out? Don’t think you’d appreciate seeing your estranged brothers in this circumstance, boss.” 
You hear a crack in Jungkook’s neck as you watch his jaw flex firmly again, except now, it seems like Jungkook could be breaking his teeth as he bites down hard. His eyes are a seething ruby, wondering what could be causing Jungkook so much heated distress. 
Brothers? Did brothers mean.. the rest of the Archangels? 
Your hand suddenly feels too hot as Jungkook practically crushes the life out of you. You exclaim in pain, realizing that Jungkook’s utterly losing his cool. You panic, knowing Jungkook is still quite powerful and you did not want to see him angry. He needs to simmer down before all hell actually breaks loose, worriedly approaching him. 
You rapidly step in front of him and grips his biceps, attempting to gain his attention. 
“Jungkook, hey, Jungkook.” You call him with light shakes, but his breaths only increase in speed. His vision is glowing a vibrant red and you can feel him entering attack mode. You protest for him yet again, to look at you, to calm down, hoping your voice can pull him out but gain no response. 
Jungkook is seconds from unleashing his flames, already raising his palm for a ferocious blast until your small hands suddenly engulf his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. 
“Jungkook!” You say it so worriedly, so sweetly that something almost automatically switches off inside Jungkook. It’s as though the figurative flames bursting out of him are extinguished, his breath stabilizing as you find his doe eyes staring back at you. 
You crack a smile as you watch his features change, becoming the exact Jungkook you met back in your apartment. 
“Human..” You’re unsure of why Jungkook’s stuck with the name, but funny enough, it made you laugh a little
“Demon..” You chide him, and he actually cracks a grin too. You wet your lips as you seriously peer into his eyes, speaking kindly. “Jungkook, you should let Azazel read me.” 
His eyes flood with something akin to anxiety and he grips your hand against his cheek, shaking his head. “No, it’s not a good idea, angel. He’ll hurt you.” 
Your lips pout slightly hearing his concern, again, unsure of whether or not this was all a ruse. You wouldn’t know. 
“What will he do?” 
“He can read minds when he touches people. Angel, demon, human, it doesn’t matter. But it hurts, especially for humans.” Jungkook warns, eyes communicating the urgency he desires to reach you. 
You can see where Jungkook’s coming from, whether it was for the ploy or his own genuine compassion, you wouldn’t want Jungkook to hurt himself just for you, either. But you knew this was important to him, he really needed to unearth that club and figure out his way back to hell. 
He needed to go back home.
You’ve already tagged along and come this far, not to mention how many times Jungkook really did show concern for you and helped you out. You should repay that kindness and help him too. 
“Jungkook, you really need that location.” You explain softly. “It’s okay, it won’t be for long, right? I can endure it.” 
“Human..” You can see the worry in his eyes, feeling your heart melt. He squeezes your hand harder and you try to ignore the fact that he doesn’t even mean any of it, only an act meant for the demon you can tell is staring you both down. 
But you’d oddly like to believe it was real.
“He’s going to infiltrate your mind, read your deepest, darkest thoughts, invade your privacy...” He urges you, emphasizing gravely that this is not something to be taken lightly. 
“I’ll be okay, demon.” 
Jungkook sighs with evident worry. “If you feel uncomfortable for even a second, I’ll kill him.” He proclaims. “You don’t have to go through with this.” 
“I’ll be fine, Jungkook. We’re a team now, alright? I got you.” 
You’re unsure of what emotion flashes through Jungkook, but you can clearly see his expression soften. He purses his lip, and simply nods as he slowly lets your hand go, but not without leaning in close to your ear. “You need to convince him..” Jungkook advises quietly. “Convince him about us to get the address.” 
You nod back in affirmation, detangling your fingers and stepping towards the sleazy demon. 
Azazel flashes you a toothy smile you wish you couldn’t see, repulsed as you stand before him. You notice the women flanking him don’t necessarily pay attention to you, and have only been touching and dancing around Azazel the majority of the time. You wonder if they’re under some sort of trance, attributing their behaviour to the drugging methods Jungkook informed you of earlier. 
Though you also wouldn’t rule out the doings of Azazel knowing he’s the sin of Lust. 
“What do you want?” You question bleakly. 
“Your hand, darling.” He slides his tongue over his teeth. 
“Do more than just read her, and I’ll torture you in hell for eternity.” Jungkook scolds threateningly, jaw clenched and eyes smoldering. 
Azazel merely acknowledges Jungkook as you reach the eclectic demon. With a weirded out expression, you hesitantly present your hand to Azazel, who snatches you up as though he were a starving dog seeing meat for the first time. He immediately shoves the back of your hand against his nostrils, gaining a good, heady whiff of you. You try not to feel a sense of ickiness all over your body, suddenly feeling this certain shock that runs throughout all your veins. 
It feels uncomfortable at first, but suddenly transforms into this sharp pain flooding your bloodstream. You exclaim immediately, feeling as though knives were suddenly coursing through your arteries. You falter as the feeling crawls all over your skin, clutching your hand to your chest in a panic. 
“Human!” Jungkook worriedly approaches you, but stops once Azazel’s ominous red eyes warn him. 
You calm down for Jungkook’s sake, breathing through the aching intrusion. “I’m fine.. I’m fine, Jungkook.” 
You remember his words in an instant, enduring the pain as you focus on thinking about Jungkook. He needs to think you’re both together, right? What better way than to conjure up every appealing thought you’ve had of Jungkook? 
His lips, his body, his eyes, his rockstar hair, his sexy leather outfit that hugs him just right. His Adam's apple, his thick neck, his alluring voice, the attractive way he tongues his cheek. Not to mention the adorable way his eyes go round or his small, cute lips pucker into a pout. 
Your mind naturally drifts towards the thought of all those features, and how they ignite your core anytime you ponder them. His fingers? His tongue? His lips? What could they do in other places? Would he be fast or slow? Would he touch you right? Would he be rough or soft? 
You try to imagine how it would feel if he were to touch your pulsing clit, shuddering once you register that masculine roughness he has to them. You bite on your lip, center lighting up with wanton desire once you consider how his tongue would feel, and most of all, you wonder exactly what beast Jungkook hides in his pants. You practically scream all these things at yourself, prominently contemplating your attraction to Jungkook for Azazel. 
Though funny enough, you know deep down they were real thoughts you merely suppressed. 
Azazel continues to read your mind, your shut eyes too focused on honing in on your likeness for Jungkook until all the pain in your body suddenly stops. You exhale harshly, as though air was sucked out of your lungs once you return to Earth. You recall your place in reality and face Azazel, swallowing. 
“Hmm,” Azazel contemplates, suggestive, mirthy eyes gazing up at you. “She really does belong to you, boss.” 
You hear Jungkook let out a triumphant scoff, hands on his hips as he quirks a brow. 
“You’re all she seems to think about.” Azazel then eyes your figure up and down. “And they mainly seem to be very dirty.” 
That fact makes you physically choke, coughing out the spit that caught in your throat. You rip your hand out of Azazel’s hold, recovering from the hiccup. 
“T-the address, Azazel.” 
Azazel’s annoyed vision flits to the side as he leans back. He rolls his eyes, holding out his pointer and middle finger in the air. He suddenly flicks them to conjure up a piece of paper with a bright spark of flames. Its edges are burnt, though the integrity of the piece still holds up. 
You smile victoriously as you reach out for the paper, only for Azazel to suddenly retract it. 
“You owe me for this, boss.” 
Jungkook laughs dryly, suddenly feeling his presence beside you as he flattens his warm palm against the small of your back. “We’ll see about that in hell—what did you say? Second-rate lackey.” 
The term makes Azazel growl as a counter, finally nabbing the paper from him and nuzzling into Jungkook, proudly presenting it before him. 
“For you, my liege.” You bow as part of your skit, Jungkook clasping the paper. 
“Why thank you, my angel.” Jungkook responds in the same playful tone, bowing as well. 
He graciously snatches the paper from you and tucks it inside the pocket of his leather jacket you wear. He pats the pocket condescendingly before entangling his fingers with yours and tugging you flush against his side, saluting Azazel. 
“So long, Azazel. Hope you grow the balls one day to fight me in hell.” Jungkook snarks, cocking a proud brow. “We’ll see then who's more powerful. If you’re not too busy getting your balls taken care of here, that is.” 
Azazel literally spits at the ground you both walk on, Jungkook immediately clutching you close to him as he merrily laughs at his own remark. 
And honestly speaking, as obnoxious as Jungkook can be, you laugh, too. 
Hugging the paper with the address to your chest, Jungkook side-hugs you to him as the pair of you walk out together into the main area of the strip club. There’s a new stripper on stage now, and Nelly Furtado’s ‘Maneater’ fills the hooting club as you both make your triumphant exit. 
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The soft thrum of rock beats keep your eyes open, shifting in and out of sleep as you slump into your passenger seat. Jungkook sits at the wheel now, and despite only claiming he could drive, you admit he’s a pretty decent driver for someone who’s only learned through observation. 
You’re yet again falling asleep after the day’s tedious activities, cheek resting in your palm while you huddle into Jungkook’s warm leather jacket. It was oddly very comforting. 
“Hey, sleeping beauty.” Jungkook lightly hits your arm and you shoot up, grumbling with sleep-laden eyes. 
“What the fuck, Jungkook?” 
“Feel lucky I even called you beauty, you don’t look so hot right now.” 
You roll your eyes, not caring of your appearance after driving for God knows how long. You still run your fingers through your hair, however. “Fuck you.” 
You see in your peripheral Jungkook silently scoffing, chiding you with an expression of mimicry. You narrow your eyes into slits at him, huffing at how easily you both return to normal. You should’ve known whatever concern and care Jungkook was showing you was only for Azazel, there’s no way the daft idiot could even muster a single cell of decency. 
Asshole.
Jungkook suddenly toes at your shin, nearly kicking you awake once again. You turn around and face him with sheer annoyance. “Jungkook, what the fuck! Can’t you just fucking drive?!” 
“So you have dirty thoughts about me, huh?” Your throat cinches, your brain shuts down and you transform into the epitome of an error 404 not found code. You hold up a finger in protest as you buffer, lips struggling for a sentence. 
“I-” 
“I didn’t know I was always on your mind, angel.” Jungkook bounces his brows as he peers at you, but it seems like his expression completely depicts the opposite of what he says. He eyes as if he knows the inner workings of your brain, knows exactly what you think, what’s on your mind, and knows they’re not innocent like an angel. 
God, he’s so annoying. 
“Would you shut up? That was for Azazel. You wouldn’t have your precious address without me anyway, demon.” 
Jungkook scoffs, laughing at your rather cute act of denial. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, human.” Jungkook's hand once gripping the steering wheel then suddenly settles over your thigh, not squeezing or touching, but merely resting there as he refrains from doing anything compromising. 
His eyes then suddenly flit towards you.
“You seem to be quite the dirty little angel.” 
Your cheeks heat up, growing angry because.. fuck, did he actually have to be right? Why did it feel like he could see right through you? Like he could read you as though you were bearing all the pages of your book? You scrutinize him repulsively as you shove his hand off you, shuffling away from him further. 
“Whatever. You should be letting me sleep, asshole.” You counter in response. “And watch the fucking road.” 
Jungkook stifles a laugh in his throat as he returns his eyes to the road, his hand now resting over the console as he drives with one hand freely. You try not to flit down to his legs manspreading deliciously, or gaze at the veins that sprawl up his arm and his rough hand on the steering wheel. You even ignore the way he tongues his cheek as though he’s too amused. 
“Why did you keep calling me that?” 
Jungkook flickers towards you. “Huh?” 
“With Azazel, you kept calling me angel.” You grumble. “You only use that when you’re being an asshole.” 
Jungkook breathes a laugh through his nose, his vision focusing on the road as he handles the steering wheel. He swipes his lips with his tongue as he looks ahead, flexing his jaw. 
“I didn’t want him knowing your real name.” 
Your brows raise in light surprise, not expecting that concern to come from him even without putting on a show. 
“That’s rich coming from you.” You scoff. 
Jungkook cracks a smoldering smirk, hating that he was so obnoxiously attractive. “It’s rich that for an angel you have a lot of dirty thoughts.” 
You roll your eyes, shutting down the arousal that floods your core as you smack his bicep. Fuck Azazel for saying that aloud, and now fuck Jungkook for snickering about it to himself. You exhale tiredly as you tuck your hand underneath your cheek and force yourself to sleep, completely avoiding him. 
So what if you wanted to fucking jump his bones? It’s his fault for being so sexy. 
With a knowing smile and quirk of his brow, Jungkook leans over and turns the volume of the music down, continuing your journey under the dark sky with spangled stars. 
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Jungkook brings in the last of your luggage from the car into your motel room, setting down the heavy bags and suitcases in one-go. He appeared seriously fucking strong doing so, and suddenly the image of him hauling stuff like that was simply too hot to not watch. 
His shirt clings to his muscular body as he maneuvers your things around the room, filling up space the way it should. You laid on your tummy simply scrolling through your laptop, meant to be looking up the address of the club you’d received from Azazel. 
Instead, you watch Jungkook’s back muscles flex as he zips open his duffle bag, shuffling through his belongings. You genuinely wonder if it’s possible to be attracted to someone’s back. He’s just so incredibly broad and wide, his traps and shoulder blades adding to the breadth of his posterior. He seems strong enough to be able to manhandle you, but kind enough to be gentle about it. 
Suddenly you remember what your friends were all whispering about regarding Jungkook; the type of man that would let you do anything to him to gain your own pleasure. 
Fuck, would he ever let you ride his back? 
Jungkook stifles a laugh in his throat as his eyes shift to you, sexy smile on display with amused eyes. You become aware of your blatant ogling and hide behind the screen of your laptop, clearing your throat. 
“What’re you doing over there, angel?” 
You heat up once you realize he clearly saw you, though act as though absolutely nothing happened. “Nothing, I’m just researching the address we got.” 
You continue clicking through much of Google maps, only to find yourself coming up empty. That was the issue with the address you’d both earned from Azazel, it appeared like a normal address, though it didn’t show up on any maps or across the grand internet. 
“Have you found the exact address?” 
“Honestly, I’m having some trouble with it.” 
Jungkook furrows his eyebrows with a little confused noise, abandoning his things and joining you on the motel bed. He seats himself right next to you, and just as you begin explaining the conundrum, Jungkook leans in close and places a hand over your body. His fingers squish into the sheets next to you as he practically cages you on the bed, feeling a fluttering in your chest at his unusual proximity. The scent of his cologne mixed with the fabric softener he started to like set your nerves ablaze, never having expected Lucifer himself to smell so nice, be so suffocating. 
It was intoxicating, he was intoxicating. He’s simply leaning over you to closely peer at the screen, but you couldn’t help but feel your heart race in your chest, feel his presence permeate your back. 
“What’s troubling you?” 
You struggle with your sentences before you can find feasible words, attempting to not stare at his thick thigh through his ripped jeans right in your face. “I-yeah. Um, did Azazel give us the right address? I can’t seem to find the club.” 
Jungkook hums in understanding, cutely pursing his lips. “I see. Let me take a look.” 
To your surprise, Jungkook leans down directly over your head to type on your laptop, and you attempt to not squeal at how incredibly proximal he is now. He covers all of your upper body so easily, and you suddenly wonder what it would be like if he were on top of you. 
He’d probably completely dominate me. 
You hear Jungkook breathe a scoff above you, tentatively peering up to find that in fact, his chin could’ve been resting atop your head. You watch his gorgeous, thick fingers type over your laptop then, searching diligently as you silently grow warmer underneath him. 
“Hmm, I see what you mean.” Jungkook chimes as he drifts into thought, also coming up dry. “Azazel shouldn’t have lied to me, the princes of hell are incapable of doing so.” 
You tilt your head and peer up at him, chin resting in your hands as you swing your legs back and forth over the mattress. “Why so?” 
Jungkook smirks devilishly, eyes flitting down to you. “They know the hell they’re in for if they do.” 
You roll your eyes, how typical of Lucifer. Jungkook ticks his head, however, as he thinks, trying to piece together what to do now. He brings his pointer finger and thumb to his chin, contemplating. 
“Can I see the paper Azazel gave us?” 
You fish it out of Jungkook’s leather jacket that you were in fact still wearing, presenting it to him. You watch Jungkook stare at the paper in his hand, scrutinizing the living hell out of it. You watch the gears in his head shift until finally, Jungkook has an ah-hah moment. 
He brings the piece close to his pink lips and gently blows over the paper. You watch in surprise as it smolders in accordance with Jungkook’s breath, suddenly small text emerging in a searing heat underneath the original address. 
‘Only those with wings can truly see.’
Jungkook cracks a scoff as he finally understands, laughing to himself. “Azazel, you damn bastard.” 
“What does it mean?” You query curiously. 
“You can’t see it, but I can.” Jungkook explains. He shows you the paper and runs underneath the first part of the text, indicating it to you. “‘Only those with wings’ means celestial beings like angels and demons, they both have wings. Humans can’t see the address or location unless they’re with a celestial being.” 
“Ohh,” you nod your head in acknowledgement. “That makes so much more sense. Google maps just kept showing me this dead-end alleyway.” 
Jungkook clicks his tongue as he ruffles your hair. “Should’ve been using that big brain of yours instead of staring at me, angel.” 
You scoff underneath him, peering up through narrowed slits. “Shut up, I wasn’t staring at you.” 
“You were pretty clearly staring at me, sweetheart. Next time you want a piece of this,” he gestures towards his brawny body. “You can let me know.” 
You pretend-vomit as you shove him away from you, Jungkook chuckling as you prop yourself back up. “Get away from me, your egotistical head is too big.” 
“Nuh-uh” Jungkook tuts with a finger. “I may be egotistical, but I know what I saw. Just tell me you want me and it’ll solve all your problems, angel.” 
“And who said I want you? It’s not like you want me.” 
“Did I ever say I didn’t want you?” 
Your eyes fall open in surprise, Jungkook merely staring at you with his mirthy eyes. He even dares tilt his head as he intensifies his gaze, growing too flustered to consider what he just said. He’s clearly only playing with you. 
“Whatever,” you wave him off. You grab the physical map you’d purchased at a convenience store. “Just fucking circle where we need to go on this.” 
You’re presenting a map to Jungkook for actual work, but he then cunningly swipes it from your grasp. “Wait a minute, what map exactly?” 
You grievously complain as Jungkook holds the map too high for your height, cursing his long arms and how much larger he is in comparison to you. You practically climb his strong body and lap to retrieve the flimsy thing, only for Jungkook to retract it every time you think you’re close. 
“Jungkook!” 
“You have to try harder than that, angel.” You breathe out a fed-up chuckle as you reach with all your might, wildly struggling as he simply giggles at your attempts. You finally snatch the map out of his hand and let out a triumphant ‘ah-hah!’
But just as you celebrate, Jungkook unbalances you with his grasp and the weight of his body sends you toppling over, falling back against the bed. Jungkook falters directly over you, his hands either side of your head as you stare up at him in shock. 
Your hands are sprawled either side of your head, round eyes regarding him with sheer surprise. You notice the way Jungkook’s knee has settled right between your legs, causing you to fidget. You swallow watching the smirk on his face grow, all too amused by the compromising position. 
“Mmm,” Jungkook suddenly hums. “For an ‘innocent’ angel you seem very comfortable as a bottom, huh?” 
You suck in an immediate breath, hating how much this position lights your nerves on fire. An arousal shoots through your core as you attempt to appear normal, countering his comment with your own. 
“Funny, you don’t seem much like a top.” You were lying straight through your teeth, and you goddamn knew it. But nothing else really mattered as you flit between Jungkook’s lips and his eyes that gleam with mischief, another typical characteristic of Lucifer, you thought. 
“Ouu,” Jungkook hisses. “You really are a liar, aren’t you?” 
You stare him down in challenge as he slowly leans down towards you, examining your every feature. “Wonder who taught such a pure angel like you to sin so much.” His voice is so condescendingly low, you couldn’t help but squish your thighs together. 
“And I wonder who taught such an arrogant asshole like you manners. They seemed to have left out personal space.” 
Jungkook hisses yet again, head dipping for a dry laugh before refocusing his almost lust-ridden, fiery eyes back on you. “We need to do something about that attitude. Angels don't talk back.” 
“One, I’m a human, not an angel.” You snark wittily. “And two, what exactly will you do about my attitude, King of hell?” 
Jungkook wets his lip slowly, taking his time with it. He very obviously flits down over your body before he arrives at your face, lowering himself even more as his fingers slide into yours against the mattress. His proximity shoots waves of arousal through you, your once dry core now fluttering with anticipation. 
Goosebumps blossom over your skin as Jungkook comes exactly face to face with you, lips mere inches from yours as your body loses control. 
“You have no clue what I’ve got in mind,” he whispers, his deep voice travelling through you and right to your dampening pussy. “But once I’m done with you, you won’t be so pure anymore, angel.” 
Your breath hitches as Jungkook maintains his heated closeness, eyes flickering down to your lips as he seems seconds from connecting them, petals brushing yours as you taste his breath… only to finally collect yourself. Registering this as Jungkook’s crazy Lucifer attraction, you quickly shove him off you with a loud huff as you sit up on the sheets, muttering almost incoherently. 
“I’m going to take a shower.” You attempt to shake all the dirty thoughts about him out of your system, slipping into your slippers and making towards your luggage. 
Jungkook chuckles before tonguing his cheek while you search through your things, his thumb swiping across his bottom lip. He props a leg up on the bed, leaning his elbow over his knee as he regards you. 
“We should eat dinner after your shower, human.” He nonchalantly says, as though absolutely nothing happened between you just now. Funny, you should’ve known Jungkook was playing, it’s practically the only trait Lucifer has. “You get to choose, remember.” 
“I do. You’ll have to eat whatever I want, though. No complaints.” You gain the courage to look him in the eye, and honestly laugh shyly when you find him very obviously checking you out. Or just looking? You didn’t know, but sitting like that while purposefully peering at you seemed evident enough. 
“No complaints here.” He held up his hands in mock surrender, ticking his head towards the shower. “Go, I’ll be here if you need anything.” 
You nod in response, and try to divert yourself from considering the fact that you’ll be in a room over from Jungkook, showering and naked. 
You wonder what he looks like naked. 
Jitters crawl all over your body and you snap yourself out of it, rapidly nabbing your clothes and rushing towards the bathroom without a single thought. You stand in the doorframe and peek back into the room, only to see Jungkook bouncing his brows just to tease you with a little wave, and you roll your eyes as you slam the door shut. 
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Shutting the shower nozzle close, you let out a sigh as you finish. You wanted to smack your head against the shower wall repeatedly, horrendously until it produced an answer for why in God’s name Jungkook made you feel like this. 
Why did you like him on top of you like that? Why were his lips so goddamn tempting? Maybe it really was the Lucifer effect he has on you and practically anyone he comes into contact with, but you groan once you realize this feels stronger. 
If it were merely the effect of Jungkook, then you shouldn’t like it so much, should you? It feels as though it isn’t an arbitrary attraction anymore, but rather a voluntary desire that keeps manifesting itself everytime you’re near him. Maybe the effect is just stronger on humans, you didn’t know. But what you did know is that you wanted him, and it did not originate from whatever spell Jungkook always manages to cast upon you. 
You smack your forehead as you emerge from the shower, spotting your clothes for tonight’s outing and drying yourself with a towel nearby. You wrap it around your chest as you proceed to apply moisturiser and your usual skin care routine, plugging in a blow dryer for your hair before sorting through your clothes for your undergarments. 
Only to realize, they weren’t here. 
You immediately gasp as a hand covers your agape mouth. Your dumbass really didn’t think to bring your bra and panties when you were angrily snatching your clothes in front of Jungkook. You feel dread overcome you as you contemplate needing to venture out into the motel room for your clothes, stepping anxiously in your spot as nerves flood your system. 
You take a deep breath once you realize that they’re merely your clothes, and whether or not Jungkook lets you live this down, at least you didn’t go completely commando out to dinner with him. 
Mustering every speck of courage in the world, you crack the bathroom door open to take a small glimpse, expecting to see Jungkook maybe sprawled on his bed and watching TV, but only finding an empty mattress. 
“Jungkook?” You call quietly, hoping for a response. You don’t hear anything though, sparking your light concern. You meander out a little further and call his name again, but gain no answer. You presume he could be out of your room right now, using this as your golden opportunity. You scamper towards your bag with all your delicates in only a measly towel, clutching it loosely from falling out of place as you scrounge through your bag. 
You rapidly put together a matching set and instantly zip your bag shut, barging it back into your suitcase. You swivel around to make a risky break for it, only to run smack dab into someone’s rock hard chest. Suppressing the desire to cry, you recognize it anywhere, complaining as you rub your forehead from the contact. 
“Ouch.” 
“What are you doing?” 
Your face heats up, carefully meeting Jungkook’s gaze as you see him fully clothed, while you’re naked and wet underneath a towel. The thought pries your embarrassed eyes away from him, clutching your garments to your chest in order to conceal them, but his sharp eyes can clearly discern what they are.
Damn his Lucifer abilities.
“I-I’m sorry. I just forgot something..” Your eyes flit everywhere but at Jungkook, who stands firmly in place without even the slightest bit of shame, towering over you. 
“You could’ve asked me to grab them for you.” Jungkook proclaims, his voice velvet-like and practically serenading you. 
“This isn’t something you can exactly grab.” You state. “It’s embarrassing.” 
“What’s so embarrassing about you being a woman?” Jungkook suddenly asks, still unable to meet his gaze, and you’re honestly glad Jungkook doesn’t demand it out of you either. His voice seems softer now however, almost understanding you. 
“Nothing, but it’s just…” You trail, not feeling exactly uncomfortable about him here, but feeling quite bare and open. All your intimate parts are covered, yes, but the mere idea that only a layer separating him from witnessing what lies underneath leaves you almost mortified. What if you’re not desirable at all to him? What would he think about your stretch marks? Your scars? All the flaws that you adorn? 
It leaves you clutching the towel even tighter, the very thought making you swallow a wad down your throat. Jungkook seems to notice your unease, and his expression falls from one of his usual amusement to seriousness. 
He very carefully, and hesitantly juts out his hand towards your hair. He considerately watches your reaction as his fingers meet a certain strand dangling in your eyesight, and he gently casts it behind your ear. His fingertips naturally fall to your chin, and you instinctively peer at him as he holds you ever so delicately. 
“You don’t have to be embarrassed with me, Y/N. I’m not expecting anything from you.” Jungkook clarifies, his tone uber soft. “Is that what you think of me?” 
“No.. I just,” you pause, searching for better wording. “Don’t know what you’ll think of me.” 
Jungkook furrows his brows, as though contemplating how that’s even something you could say.  He light-heartedly laughs as he looks to the ground, then peers back up at you. His eyes have softened into those round orbs of coffee, noticing that his eyes actually had a tendency to emit this natural glow, almost like a shimmer of stars. 
“You really think I’d be the type of guy that judges a woman’s body? Or her bra and panties?” 
You suck in a breath listening to his pretty lips say those words, gently nibbling on your lip as your tentative sight meets his. 
“If there’s one thing you should know about me, angel.” Jungkook begins, still cradling your chin. “You never have to be ashamed of yourself around me. I’m Lucifer, baby. All your sins, your secrets, your darkest thoughts.. I got you.” 
Jungkook steps closer to you, closing the space between your bodies as he releases heat that only warms you up, both inside and on the outside. He then closes the space between you two ever so slowly, lip brushing your ear as he whispers. 
“Even the dirty ones.” 
 His words ignite a lustful fire inside you, wondering a million heart-pumping possibilities with him so close to you, but choosing your gratitude over your horniness. You and Jungkook are merely a team, not a relationship waiting to happen. And so you crack a smile as you find yourself gazing into his eyes, wondering where this was coming from, and contemplating that maybe Jungkook... really isn’t half bad. 
That was, until he opened his mouth. 
“But if you’re like a furry or something, I’m gonna have to pass.” 
You scoff as you propel his chest away from you, shooting a repulsed expression his way. “Let’s just go to dinner, jackass.” 
Jungkook laughs as he watches you march away, flickering back to scold him, but only seeing his lips curving into this rather attractive bunny-like smile, wondering why the fuck Lucifer had to be blessed with such cute lips. 
And also wondering what it would feel like to kiss them. You didn’t know you’d find out later that night, or that Jungkook is in fact hotter than hell. 
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jungkxook · 6 months ago
Text
—sweeter than sugar. (m)
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⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader 
⟶ genre: ceo!jungkook / sugar daddy au + fluff / smut 
⟶ words: 22,258 oops
⟶ rating: 18+ 
⟶ summary: when infamous playboy jeon jungkook comes to you with a proposition that you know you should say no to, you can’t. because all you really know is that being spoiled has never felt so sweet before
⟶ warnings: lot’s of brand name dropping bc jungkook stays spoiling you!!, sprinkle of angst, unprotected sex, dry humping, grinding, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, face riding, handjob, standing sex, window sex?, riding, creampie
⟶ note: this is a repost of a fic from my old blog, just in case it looks familiar to anyone!
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You have come to find that when rich men and women are drunk enough, they will talk.
Naturally, living in the metropolis that is New York City with its crowded population of millions, you are bound to come across certain interesting people. Yet none have seemingly compared to your experiences with the social elite and upper class businessmen and women of the city. For there, nestled perfectly in the hub of the mayhem and money that is the Financial District of Lower Manhattan in a bar lounge you work at, you learn much about the inner workings and the dramatic gossip of some of the wealthiest people in the city. Stripped down to nothing but self-indulgent humans enjoying their happy hours after a day of work and incredibly drunk off of Cabernet Sauvignon red wine and smooth Louis XIII cognac and martini cocktails, they will talk. They will talk about important business deals, murmur about the hushed world of embezzlers, boast about their latest luxurious purchase, whisper about affairs, and mock fellow friends or business partners.
Of course you listen. You always listen. To you, these people are a whole other species ━ so distant from yourself yet so fascinating. It’s not as if they care about your eavesdropping either, for they do not so much as grace you with a second glance, even when you present them with their drink. Perhaps that’s for the best. After all, you’re certain you’ll never be able to understand them. It’s not as if you like them either. But there is one person in particular who becomes quite the talk of the wealthy entrepreneurs and tycoons that occupy the lounge; the same one person who catches your attention over the many nights of your shifts and you think him to be, perhaps, even more fascinating than his fellow snobby folk.
Jungkook, made of diamonds and gold, is a person you find hard to avoid.
Tabloids and whispers of the eminent young man make him known to you far before you even lay eyes on him and all you know is that he is built upon old money and glory. He is infamous, it appears from the ostentatious words that pluck him from the ordinary and hangs him high above in the endless sky, born into a world where he is lucky enough to be graced with not only the wealth but the handsome features too. You still aren’t quite sure you understand what exactly he does for a living, though you learn over time he’s inherited his father’s company of investment banking at the ripe age of 23 after his father’s retirement. Really, all that seems to pique your interest is the simple fact that he wears clothes that cost the same amount as your college tuition, if not more, whilst you are drowning in obstinate debt. It is a life he will never know, much like his life is one you will never know.
Though many attempt to degrade him as being a spoiled rich kid with a pretty face who doesn’t deserve his father’s company, you can hardly find an inkling of hatred in your bones for the boy. Instead, you find blatant envy laced in every nerve, despite still struggling internally to be thankful for the dismal life you live from a day-to-day basis. It is only on days when the universe itself decides to take it’s annoyance out on you in mundane mishaps that makes you entirely jealous of men and women at the lounge. Of the eminent man that is Jungkook.
As a college student in your final year, the looming fact of paying your tuition debt, amongst other necessities and living expenses, dangles over your head in a foreboding dark cloud. It isn’t the idea that you struggle to barely make ends meet, or yet another heated conversation you have with your landlord only a week prior, begging him to wait until you get paid to give him your rent, or the fact that you work two part-time jobs aside from attending class in an attempt to make enough money to live that makes you break down on one particular Saturday morning. It is when you return from your first job of working an eight hour shift at the café around the corner from where you live, climb the five flights of stairs to your floor after you find that the elevator isn’t working, only to scan through your daily mail of bills and taxes to find an envelope containing a letter with big, bolded words screaming at you EVICTION NOTICE, akin to two middle fingers raised high in the air for you.
That is when the severity of your situation seems to hit you because you suddenly become aware in an entirely pessimistic shame that you have failed. Failed to make ends meet and failed to make your dull routine work of running from one job to the next and attending classes. You skim the contents of the notice rather quickly, your mind stuck somewhere between terror of living on the streets and rushing to get ready for your second shift of the night, but your nervous eyes are able to catch a glimpse of the three week deadline your landlord gives you in order to either return to him the lost rent you are owing to stay or to pack your belongings and leave. You hardly have time to read the rest or devise a plan in order to save your ass as you crumple the paper in anger and toss it on your bed before moving to prepare yourself for work.
The second job you work is at the lounge. It’s popularity amongst the urbanites makes sure that you find little to no time to rest as you are running back and forth from behind the counter to customers serving drinks and other appetizers. It’s a newer job you work, having only been there for six months, but at the four month mark is when he starts showing up, as if the universe further wanted to laugh in your face and taunt that there are people who never have to work hard to simply live.
In the short time span of two months that you see him at the lounge, you never once utter a word to him as your boss makes certain that he personally tends to Jungkook and his friends in an attempt to please the rich boy. However, you admire him from afar anyway, taking note in his appearances and manners. He is always well dressed from head to toe in perfectly tailored and fitting Giorgio Armani suits. His dress shirts are usually either pure cotton or some sort of silky lavish material and a watch and rings are accessories he always seems to wear. He is generous, however, and orders the most expensive drinks for he and his friends and is the one to make sure they find a ride home but you discover he must naturally be a bit of a lush because he is always stumbling out of the lounge well into the night and blissfully inebriated, usually with a girl wrapped around his finger and fawning over him drunkenly. He is, quite obviously, a sybarite, a playboy, but a kind one at that ━ or perhaps that is just a facade.
You do not see him at first when you begin your shift that night, but he seems to make an appearance at the most terrible of times. It is just as you’re finally clocking out for your break and take a step outside next to the building for a breath of air, further off from the other customers of the lounge who like to sit on the patio with a burning cigarette limply dangling from fingertips or the finest of cigars, when you find your boss, Namjoon, joining your side to tell you something you aren’t at all prepared to hear.
“Y/N, I actually wanted to talk to you,” he starts, his tone casual. The night is cool despite being mid-spring, and a breeze ruffles his dark hair and sends a chill down your spine.
“Am I in trouble?” You ask, and though it is supposed to be a joke, you can’t help but fear for a moment about whether you might actually be.
“Oh, no, nothing like that,” he says with a lighthearted chuckle. “No, no. It’s just that━ Well, you see━ You’re most certainly one of our best employees here but, that being said, I think━ Ahem, simply put, with all the new hires we got recently and all their training, we unfortunately are going to have to start pulling your hours.”
His words don’t seem to register in your mind at first and you look at him curiously, dumbfounded. “You what?”
“From now on, we only need you to work ten hours a week here,” he says. “Just for the time being━”
“You’re cutting back on my hours?” You ask abruptly. “Why me?”
“If it makes you feel any better, you aren’t the only one this is happening to,” he replies. “It’s a really shitty thing to do, I know, but we have no other choice.”
Finally, what he says seems to sink in and your eyes widen in disbelief. You push yourself off the wall you are leaning against and round on him instantly. “No, no, you can’t! Please! I need those extra hours and the money━ Look, I just got the news today that I might be kicked out of my apartment in less than a month and I still need to pay back my school tuition. I can’t afford to━”
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Namjoon says, entirely in a dismissive manner that has you coming to a complete halt and making you feel absolutely foolish. “But there’s nothing I can do right now━ Ah! If it isn’t the man himself! Jungkook! Glad to see you could make it. Excuse me, doll━”
Your boss moves quickly, parting from you with a final pat on your shoulder as if to poorly console you before shifting his attention over to the newcomer, to Jungkook. You’re seething with absolute rage that boils in the pit of your stomach and the tips of your fingers, your mouth hanging opened in an appalled gap, as you whirl around only to have your eyes settle upon your boss devoting all his attention to Jungkook and the friend by his side who is digging through his pockets for a cigarette atop the patio just behind you. You are left entirely forgotten and bristling with anger that you find hard to keep under control as you gawk at your boss before realizing that Jungkook is staring at you.
His dark chocolate pupils peer at you under the shimmering moonlight, reflecting something soft and pensive, but what exactly he is thinking, you can’t surely make out. It catches you off guard and has you clamping your mouth shut as if to showcase some sort of proper etiquette around the prestige boy, a blush warming your cheeks, because why is he looking at you? He’s never taken the time to so much as glance your way with any sort of interest ━ or so you thought ━ and yet here he is, his intimidating eyes piercing yours and making you shift uncomfortably in your spot. You don’t bother to linger any longer after that.
As soon as his friend is calling for his attention, and Jungkook turns to avert his gaze to the conversation that is happening without him, you round on your heel and briskly walk back into the lounge, your mind in a haze of embarrassed confusion and anger.
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Your awkward encounter with Jungkook is quick to slip your mind as soon as you are hurled back into the persistent problems of your life.
The next few days elapse into one another in a useless blur as you try to beg your boss at your first job to allow you more shifts, while simultaneously trying to discover what you will do and who you can live with if you are evicted. Moving back in with your parents seems the most practical but least favourable when they live too far away from your jobs and school. You’re considering asking a close friend if you can live with them for a few weeks when the universe seems to present itself to you one more time, but in a way to redeem itself.
It happens on that Wednesday, only a few days after receiving the eviction notice. You return to your job at the lounge that night for a rather usually dull shift as not many people seem to come out on a night that is in the middle of the week. It’s slow, as you expect, and you try to spend the time by cleaning the bar counter, cleaning the shelves that the bottles of liquor stand on, cleaning glasses, and repeating the process again and again, but even that becomes tedious after a while. The lounge itself isn’t typically a place of gathering for just anybody with it’s all glass panes, dark interior, and lights of hues of purple and blue to help with the ambiance, modern furniture, and smooth jazz music to tie it all perfectly together. It’s nearing 7pm when the door swings open but you hardly pay much attention as you’re uselessly wiping the counter and fretting over the notice. When you hear the sound of someone clearing their throat from behind you, you spin around and come face-to-face with none other than Jungkook.
An involuntary gasp slips past your parted lips before you can swallow it back and your hands quickly abandon the rag you’re holding to nervously smooth down your hair and clothes.
“Hi there,” he smiles and, when he does, it is something daunting and mischievous.
He’s abandoned his usual Armani attire for something a little more casual though even your untrained eye can sense that the clothes he wears still costs much more than what you earn in a day. A Saint Laurent bomber jacket, a Rolex watch, Louis Vuitton dress shoes. His blonde locks are parted ever so slightly off to the side and, as he moves to certain angles under the dim lights of the lounge, you catch sight of the tattoos that cover his arm and are mostly always covered up. Up close, you can see features on his face that you would have otherwise misplaced, like the dainty point of his nose or the piercings on his ears or just how big his eyes truly are, giving him a more youthful appearance even though he is not much older than you as it is. You’re so mesmerized and too busy studying his dazzling attire to notice the fact that he speaks to you that it takes you a moment to respond.
“O━Oh, um, hi,” You force a smile on your face that is visibly so. You gulp back your nerves and straighten up, fighting for your voice. “What can I get you?”
“Just water is fine, actually,” he says and, goodness, why was his voice so smooth and luxurious?
You quirk a brow, the question tumbling from you before you can stop it. “You’re telling me that you came all the way down here for a glass of water that you can easily get at your home?”
Your mouth quickly snaps shut, as you’re suddenly fearful of having said something wrong, but the boy in front of you only chuckles and shrugs sheepishly.
“Ah, well, it’s a Wednesday night and I do have to work tomorrow,” he says.
He’s still smiling as he watches you and the sight has you nervous once more. To avoid his intense stare, you move to gather him a glass of water. It’s silent as you do so, the only sound coming from the other chatter of customers and the music that plays in the foreground. When you slide his drink over to him, his smile widens and he nods.
“Thanks.”
You nod timidly and try to distract yourself by cleaning once more. Not even before you can turn fully away from him, he’s speaking again.
“So, you know of me, huh?” he asks and then stops himself. “Sorry, that sounded very conceited of me. I’m just━ I don’t know. Surprised.”
“You’re quite the talk of the city,” You point out in a matter-of-fact tone and giggle. “It’s hard to not know who you are.”
Jungkook licks his lips and smiles almost bashfully. The sight seems so rare that it has you staring at him in wonder. His eyes flicked up to look at you past his long lashes and then he lifts his chin to properly face you. “Then who do I have the fortune of speaking to tonight?”
“Y/N,” You introduce, holding out a hand for him. “It’s most certainly a pleasure to meet you properly, sir.”
The boy takes your hand in his, his skin smooth and delicate, and then he does something you do not expect at all. He turns your palm over so that the back of your hand is facing him and he presses a small kiss to your knuckles that leaves tingles running down your spine.
“The pleasure’s all mine,” he says.
You must be entirely gawking at him again as he lets go of your hand because he laughs and straightens up in his seat, taking a sip of his water.
“I actually wanted to talk to you,” he says.
“M━Me?” You ask, still stunned. “Did you want to speak with Namjoon? He isn’t in right now but I can leave a note for you, if you want━”
“Oh, no, that won’t be necessary,” he replies, gently turning down your suggestion. “No, you were just the person I was hoping to find tonight.”
“Oh, really?” You question and Jungkook nods. “Then what can I do for you?”
The smile on his face shifts into a smirk and he pauses to take another sip of his water, leaving you in hanging anticipation. He sets his glass down and props his elbows up on the counter, leaning forward.
“I’ve come to offer you a proposition,” he says.
“A proposition?” You echo.
“Mhm, and it’s one I hope you don’t turn down,” he continues. “See, the other night on Saturday, I couldn’t help but overhear you talking to your boss about your shifts, or lack thereof, and━”
“You heard that?” You gasp, dismayed. “You were eavesdropping?”
“Not exactly,” Jungkook says. “I just so happened to stumble outside just as you were complaining.”
You eye him warily, folding your arms over your chest. “Okay, go on.”
“Well,” Jungkook begins, “I’m here to offer you a job but, I must warn you, it’s a very different kind of job.”
His words seem to intrigue you as you absentmindedly take a step closer to him, lowering your head to listen closely. You don’t reply back but, judging by the interested look on your face, Jungkook casually carries on. He locks gazes with you then, a hard unbreakable gaze that has you looking only at him as he utters his next few words.
“There’s no easy way to explain this that won’t make it seem indecent, but I can assure you that my intentions are pure,” he admits. “Have you ever heard of the term sugar baby?”
As soon as you hear the last of his words, you push yourself up and begin shaking your head furiously. “You want me to be your sugar baby?” You ask. The incredulous question has a blush pinching at your cheeks. “Are you nuts? I’m not that kind of girl. I’m not going to sleep with you even if you pay me━”
“Hear me out,” he says calmly and, for some odd reason, you pause. Your eyes narrow into a scrutinizing glare as you stare him down.
“Fine,” You say stiffly. “Keep talking.”
“It’s a crazy idea, I know,” he says. “And, sure, typically sugar babies are used for sex but I would never force myself on you or force you to do anything you wouldn’t want to. That’s a promise I’ll never break. I just figured that we can keep the companionship aspect of the whole thing and that’s it. Nothing more than having a person by my side.”
“I’m sure you can find plenty of girls to take that role,” You muse aloud.
“Sure,” he admits sheepishly, “but I’m asking you because I want you to be the one and because I know you need this money more than anyone else.”
You fall silent as you study him. He pulls out his phone then and begins to scroll through it almost too nonchalantly but you don’t necessarily mind. You are much too busy pondering his offer.
“But you don’t even know me,” You say at last.
“Also true,” he says, glancing up at you. “I guess you could say that’s another part of the reason why I’m asking you because I wouldn’t mind getting to know you. I mean, I see you all the time at this bar. I would have loved to come up and talk to you at any given moment but you always seemed so caught up in your work. Now I know why.”
Another silence ensues and he watches as you bite nervously on your lower lip. You rake a hand through your hair and sigh.
“How about this?” he asks, shifting in his seat to sit up straighter. “We try it out at least once to test the waters for an upcoming event where you’re my date. If you like it and want to keep going, great. If you absolutely hate it and hate me, then you can forget all about me and that I ever asked you this and I’ll leave you alone. Deal?”
“How do I know you’re not planning my murder?”
Jungkook smirks wolfishly. “That would be bad for business, love, and neither me nor my company needs that sort of attention in the press. So… What do you say?”
“I don’t know. It’s just… a lot. I have to think about it.”
Jungkook nods. “That’s understandable. Here━”
He shifts in his seat and pulls his wallet from his jeans. With a flourish, he procures a business card and slides it onto the table. Then, he gestures for a pen and, once you hand him the one you fish out from the apron tied around your waist, he scribbles his own personal number down on the back. He looks up at you with an ever so pretty smile, his eyes twinkling.
“Call me on this number whenever you decide.”
He doesn’t stay much longer after that. When he does leave, he makes sure to leave you a tip. A considerable sum of $500 in the form of a cheque. He’s long gone by the time you register the amount on the slip of paper and your name scribbled down. When the shock is gone, you tell yourself you can’t possibly take the cheque. But he knows that either way, whether you accept the cheque and his offer or try to return the money to him, you’ll call him one way or another. You realize this only on your way home from the lounge and shake your head at his conniving way. If there was one thing you have learnt during your time at the lounge, rich men always get what they want.
You aren’t entirely too sure what makes you cave. Maybe it’s the fact that, when you return home and are greeted to the looming notice papers, you are reminded that you so desperately need the money, or the fact that Jungkook is as charming and attractive as people say. Maybe it is the fact that he is quite obviously devoting his time and attention on solely you. Perhaps once won’t hurt after all. Then, if he stays true to his word and pays you handsomely, just enough for your rent, you never have to see him again. So the next morning, after a great deal of pensive pacing around your apartment, it is with one final hefty sigh that you call Jungkook. He answers on the third ring with a cordial, “Hello?”
“I can’t believe I’m saying this but fine. You have yourself a deal.”
Even without seeing his face, you can hear the smile in his voice, can see the way it must be tugging at his pink lips. “Ah, Y/N! Great!”
“What do you need me to do exactly?”
“Well, first thing’s first,” he says. “We need to set up some ground rules. First, I won’t try anything on you that you won’t like. Second, since this is technically still a job ━ and I know it’s going to sound ridiculous but stay with me ━ we need to be cautious about gaining romantic feelings for one another. It’ll just get in the way of everything, okay?”
“Okay. Whatever you say.”
“Good,” he says. “Then let’s jump right to it: I need you to be my date at this business dinner party that’s coming up. The logistics of the dinner party bore me. I know as much about it as you do, if I’m honest, but everyone ━ mostly my father ━ thinks it’ll be a good idea to bring a proper date. As if that’ll leave a good impression on these people we’re trying to win over. We’ll see about that.”
“When is it?” You ask.
“Three days from now.”
“Where?”
“Paris.”
“As in Paris, France?”
Jungkook hums in agreement a little too calmly for your liking. Your jaw drops open in surprise and you begin to sputter for air, stammering over your words.
“Jungkook,” You say his name sternly, laughing at just how ridiculous this request is. “This whole thing started because I have no money. I’m getting kicked out of my apartment ━ or did you miss that? What makes you think I have the money for a ticket to Paris?”
Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to bursts out into boisterous laughter, and he continues to laugh and laugh as if this is the funniest thing he has heard yet. You are left staring blankly at your wall, completely frazzled and stunned.
“God, you’re cute,” he sighs at long last. “Baby girl, I don’t think you quite understand the concept of this but that’s okay. We can work on it. Here, look. Check your phone━”
As he says this, your phone chimes pleasantly to notify you of a new message. Pulling your phone away from your face, you see a new text from Jungkook’s number: a screenshot of an email of a bank purchase, one that he confirms out loud with his confident words even when you feel your hands shaking in overwhelming anticipation.
“I already bought you a ticket as we were speaking,” he says. “We leave Friday.”
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The concept is entirely too hard to wrap your mind around, even after you sleep on it.
It’s like a dream come true, a fairy tale that people can only ever hope for, and it had fallen so perfectly into your very lap in the form of Jungkook. You pack the next night for Paris (which will only be a two day trip, according to Jungkook), the excitement and nerves finally kicking in and making you jittery and grin from ear-to-ear as you rummage around your apartment. He picks you up early the next morning in a chauffeured BMW before you’re both driven to the airport to fly in two first class seats to Paris. The whole thing is ludicrous but you can’t seem to get enough ━ even with the way he seems to act like a total gentleman by holding the car door open for you and holding your hand as he helps you onto the plane. From what you gather, he is kind and gentle and spends the time talking to you on the long flight to Paris in an attempt to help soothe your nerves when he sees you toying anxiously with your hands. You learn about his father and his company and he learns about your family and school life.
When you arrive in Paris, the streets are suddenly dazzling with a magic you have never seen before. From the architecture to the gardens to the grand tower in the distance, everything seems like a whimsical dream and you, the poor undeserving spectator, can’t possibly contain your excitement. In the chauffeured drive to your hotel, Jungkook watches you with amused eyes and chuckles under his breath when you gawk out the window at the passing city. Your accommodations for the getaway have already been paid for and includes a stay at the Four Seasons Hotel. It is simply marvelous, a palace sculpted so divinely out of white stone and marble in the lobby. The people are friendly, both the employees and other occupants, greeting you with warm smiles and generous gestures, but the atmospheric prestige is slightly nerve-wrecking.
Jungkook pays for your room which is the luxurious Royal Suite, a room much larger than you truly need but, god, do you love it. There’s a spacious living room, a foyer, a marble fireplace and a dining table, the master bedroom accompanied by an all marble bathroom, and private terrace with a view of the surrounding city and the Eiffel tower in the near distance, so close it feels as if you can reach out and touch it. Everything is adorned in gold and ivory furnishing, white plush cushions and bedding with teal accents, white flowers and exceptional pieces of decorations. Jungkook is still with you when he guides you into the suite but he doesn’t speak and nor do you. Instead, he watches as you stare in awe at the overwhelmingly large room and the lavish paintings and furniture that are placed perfectly around, and the platter of macaroons and a bottle of Dom Perignon champagne in an ice bucket atop the glass coffee table. He watches even as you throw yourself to the terrace door, beaming outside at the beautiful view.
“Like it?” he asks, his lips curling upward faintly in an amused smile.
“Like it?” You repeat, astonished. You turn to face him and can’t contain the squeal that bubbles at your lips. You fling yourself down onto the plush sofa nearest you and sigh dreamily as you look up at the boy who is suppressing his chuckles. “I’m in love, Jungkook. I definitely don’t deserve this━”
“Don’t say that,” Jungkook frowns, interrupting you quickly. “Of course you deserve this. I’m glad you’re enjoying it so far. That’s what I want to hear.”
You push yourself up to sit on the couch and cross your legs beneath you. You gaze up at Jungkook, gnawing nervously on your lower lip. “I just feel like you could have found a better person to replace me. I mean, I don’t even know where to start with repaying you.”
“There’s no need to repay me,” Jungkook says. “That’s the whole point of this ordeal. All I want from you is to be my side when I need you. You owe no debt to me. Just keep enjoying yourself, yeah?”
You nod timidly and he smiles. He notices you shift in your seat to stand up once more and he swiftly holds out his hand for you in an ever gentleman-like way. You take it graciously and pull yourself up and then he does it again, lifting your twined hands to his lips to press a tender kiss to your knuckles. He keeps his lips pressed to your skin for a second too long and it has you blushing madly before he finally releases your hand once more.
“It’s late,” he says. “You should get some rest. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. Set an early alarm, okay? I have something else for you that I want to show you before the dinner party.”
“Sounds like a plan,” You hum almost absentmindedly as your attention is suddenly averted back to the room that you can’t seem to get enough of.
“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he smiles.
He begins retreating back to the door of the room but stops when he hears you call his name, your voice so distant and faint, soft and gentle and loving, that it makes his heart skip a beat.
“Thank you for everything so far, Jungkook.”
Jungkook notices the irreplaceable smile on your face and it’s so genuine and heartwarming that it has the exact same smile mirroring on his face. He nods once more, understanding, before giving you a sly wink and walking out the door. You don’t stay awake much longer after that, the jitters and excitement eventually soothing into something soft that lulls you to sleep
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You aren’t entirely sure what Jungkook has planned for the next morning but you are most definitely not disappointed.
He comes by your room around 10:00 am, a light rap of his knuckles against the door signalling his arrival. He’s dressed casual today and it, for once during the duration of the time that you’ve been with him, doesn’t make you feel bad for wearing just as casual clothing. He takes you to a café just down the street from the hotel for breakfast and then he walks with you through the streets of Paris, past all the people and hectic life. When you finally arrive at your destination, your jaw drops open in complete unregistered shock because you realize he’s taking you shopping ━ and shopping not just anywhere but the Champs-Élysées and down Avenue Montaigne where all the leading couture designers are. He pulls you into a certain shop with designer and brand name formal wear, dresses and suits of all sorts of materials and lengths lining the walls, shelves, and dressing mannequins.
“I figured we could go shopping for something for you to wear tonight,” he says. “It’s your pick. See anything that catches your attention?”
You snort a bit ungracefully, your fingers running over the silky material of a scarlet red Valentino dress decorating a mannequin near you.
“Yeah, all of it,” You say, your fingers plucking the price tag of the dress and gawking at it. “But not for that price. I’d have to take out another loan from the bank if I’d want to buy this and I’m still paying off my tuition fees.”
Jungkook laughs lightly at your dry remarks and places his hand on the small of your back with such ease that it catches you by surprise.
“Baby girl,” he hums, and the small pet name is enough to make your heart flutter, “I’m buying it for you. Go ahead. Run wild in here. We can get a consultant to help you if you want.”
“I’m going to need more than a consultant to deal with all this,” You say. “It’s making my head spin. If I’m dreaming, please don’t pinch me.”
He smirks, giving you a shake of his head. “I can assure you that you aren’t dreaming. Go on. If you see anything you like, don’t be afraid to tell me. Today is all about you.”
And Jungkook doesn’t lie. Though it feels so wrong to be so spoiled and pampered, you find yourself basking in all of it ━ from the way Jungkook follows behind you as you study every piece of clothing and waits patiently as you try on dress after dress, to the way the employees that work there fawn over your body and the way you model the dress “just perfectly,” to the way they serve you bubbling champagne in crystal flute glasses. It’s all about you, and it’s never felt so good.
It doesn’t stop there. Jungkook takes you to shop after shop, boutique after boutique, until you find a dress that you take quite a liking to. It’s a floor length Alberta Ferretti velvet midnight blue, almost black, gown, the seams of which hugging your body and curves in all the right places. It’s a slightly off-the-shoulder dress, with a heart-shaped scoop neckline and a slit on one side of the dress that runs far up the smooth expanse of your leg to end mid-thigh. It’s the dress you pick because it’s the only dress that seems to garner such a unique reaction from Jungkook. It’s one where he forgets his words momentarily, gazing at you as if you were made of pure gold, because, holy shit, he’s never seen anything so beautiful before. He can’t speak whilst you model the dress for him and the consultant, twirling around and around in front of the mirrors to admire your own figure, because he doesn’t want to miss a single thing about just how gorgeous you look in it.
He doesn’t tell you but, when you decide on that dress, he couldn’t have been any happier.
Even after finding the dress, Jungkook still continues to take you shopping, promising to buy you any other article of clothing or piece of jewelry that catches your attention, though you try to tame your desires as you begin to feel a bit too spoiled. Jungkook doesn’t mind, of course. He never seems to mind. Eventually, after he takes you back to the hotel with all black Christian Louboutin ankle strap heels and a glittering Tiffany necklace and earrings for the dress, he leaves you alone to get ready for the dinner. When he meets you once more at your suite, it is later in the evening and the sun outside has just begun to set. He enters your room looking as if he has just walked out from a Renaissance painting or was sculpted by the Grecians himself in marble stone because of just how divine he looks. He’s adorned in yet another Armani suit, a dark charcoal that is almost ebony black, and his hair is combed and parted neatly to the side. There’s no need to even look at him to know he is already handsome, but something about that night makes his features more prominent.
You’re still in the bathroom when he does enter your room, calling out to you with a, “Y/N? You ready? We need to get going soon.”
He hears your voice carry from the bathroom, light and feathery, and though it is muffled, he can make it out to sound like, “Just a sec!”
So, Jungkook waits. He’s suddenly nervous as he does, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves and the hem of his suit jacket, when he hears the bathroom door click open. He hears the clinking of your heels as you walk towards him and then time seems to slow down in a sort of entirely cliche way because all he can focus on is you. And, god, you’re beautiful. If Jungkook is to you only a man-made beauty of Renaissance and Ancient Greek art, then you are to him made up of the stars and the moon and sun, carved divinely from the very hands of the universe itself and kissed all over by enchanting Mother Nature. You are radiant, you are natural, genuine, breathtaking, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. He is far too caught up with the way you look to even pay attention to your words, that only hit him in disoriented white noise.
“Jungkook?” You wave a hand in his face. “Can you zip me up?”
“What?” Jungkook seems to snap out of his daze and shakes his head suddenly. “Oh, right! Sorry, of course. Come here.”
You do, closing the distance between him and you with a wobbly flourish on your heels and turn your back to him. Jungkook gulps as he sees the zipper of the dress hanging low on your back. With cold hands, he begins to pull the zipper up, but he doesn’t seem to notice the way goosebumps run down your spine when you feel the ghost of his touch. When he’s done, you turn to face him once more and place your hands on your hips. Your hair and makeup are perfectly done and the glittering jewellery you wear all makes you look like such an elegant star.
“Well?” You ask. “What do you think? Is it too much? I don’t really know, to be honest. Or am I too underdressed? Oh god, I don’t know━”
“You’re beautiful,” Jungkook says abruptly.
Your cheeks are tinted pink at his compliment and you look down bashfully. He reaches out for your hand and you take it carefully only to have him raise your clasped palms above your head.
“Spin for me, love.”
You obediently follow his command, anxious under his watchful eyes. They drift down and up and then back down and up again to take in your full figure and he sighs under his breath. When you’re facing him again, there is a hint of a smile on his face and his pupils are glistening.
“Magnificent,” he breathes. “My goodness, baby girl, all eyes are going to be on you and only you tonight. I think I’m going to need to keep a watchful eye on you and make sure you don’t ditch me for another man before I can even get to know you better.”
You shake your head at him as he softly drops your hand from his. You inattentively reach out to grab at his already perfectly kempt tie, straightening it from beneath his collar.
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” You giggle. “I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon, Jungkook.”
And Jungkook smiles.
Another chauffeured ride picks the two of you up at the hotel (this time a sleek black Mercedes) and drives you all the way to the Hotel Plaza Athénée, in which one of Jungkook’s associates have rented out the entire restaurant attached to it simply for the cause of their business dinner. Jungkook is the one who gets out of the car first and holds your door open, taking your hand to help you out and hooking arms with you as he guides you inside to the restaurant that you can only describe as a winter wonderland, made upon white furnishing and a magnificent crystal chandelier that resembles falling stars or snowflakes frozen in time.
The party isn’t nearly as terrible as you had thought. It begins awkwardly and you feel uncomfortable, shifting your weight from one heel to the other, and clinging desperately onto Jungkook, but the partygoers are friendly. They talk to you without a problem, introducing themselves with big smiles and welcoming you into their small lavish circle. The party continues on rather pleasantly, though you thank the glasses of red wine you are constantly consuming to not only help pass the time and soothe your nerves, but to distract the rich men and women around you long enough so you can breathe without feeling scrutinized.
By the time the night is coming to a close, you and Jungkook are equally as drunk off of expensive wine and champagne, and say a reasonable farewell to the other guests before leaving back to the hotel. You don’t leave Jungkook’s side, and perhaps that is because your intoxicated mind is suddenly buzzing with thoughts and your bloodstream is pumping with adrenaline because you are wide awake. You end up back in his room, both of you lounging out on the perfectly made bed, sharing yet another bottle of wine (that Jungkook had ordered from room service) between the two of you, giggling and chatting well into the night.
There is a moment where the late hour of the night and the alcohol seems to finally get to you and Jungkook; where the two of you are simply sprawled out on the bed in a comfortable silence. Your eyes begin to itch with the heavy need for sleep and you find yourself slipping in and out of your stream of consciousness, the fact that you are still confined to the tight dress you wear completely vanishing from your mind. It’s then that it seems to hit you - the whole ordeal with Jungkook and the fact that you are in Paris, wearing clothes that most certainly cost as much as your tuition - and it comes in waves of overwhelming and bursting joy and gratefulness.
“Jungkook,” You hum sleepily, catching the boy’s attention. “I’m serious when I say thank you for everything. It’s just so- so amazing and I want you to know that.”
“I know,” Jungkook says. “I believe you.”
You shift in your spot to stare up at him. He’s reclining beside you, a hand propped behind his head, and he is gazing up at the ceiling before looking over at you. He smiles softly.
“I just don’t want you to think you’re making a mistake by spending all this money on someone like me ━ as if I’m some sort of basket case,” You say. “So if you want to be brutally honest with me and never want to speak to me again after this, please just tell me now so I don’t have to wait to be rejected.”
He quirks a brow, examining your features as if to decipher your words.
“Is that what you think this is all about?” he asks finally. “The rich boy trying to do his moral duty by giving away his money? I’m helping you because I like you and because I don’t want to see someone as sweet and gentle as you being kicked out on the streets. I like you, all of you, and that’s not going to change. I’m not going anywhere.”
He finds you smiling, bright and cheery, your eyes twinkling beautifully. You do not know what compels you to move next ━ possibly the alcohol clouding your mind or the fact that Jungkook is sitting before you, as handsome as ever even at three in the morning ━ but then you are pushing yourself forward, leaning toward him and pressing your mouth against his for a sudden kiss. All you can focus on is the soft plump of his lips, laced with the taste of bittersweet wine and his intoxicating cologne, and it makes you pur with delight.
The action has Jungkook completely shocked but he doesn’t push you away. If anything, he begins to get carried away, but so do you. Suddenly, neither of you seem to be able to get enough of the taste of each other’s lips. You feel his tongue poke against your mouth, grazing your lower lip sensually, practically begging for entrance, and you part your mouth with ease, welcoming all of him. He kisses you slowly, yearning for more, but then the intensity of the kiss heats up. Your tongues dance together in a sloppy wet kiss, teeth clashing together in a desperate and needy fashion, lips smacking roughly against each other’s and igniting flames in every joint of your body. You react without thinking, wiggling around on the bed until you’re lifting yourself up and straddling his hips, sitting back on his thighs.
You’re grasping eagerly at him, tugging at the strands of hair at the nape of his neck, as his own hands come to rest upon your hips, pulling you against him. He parts from your lips then to pepper kisses down to your jawline and neck, where he licks a clean stripe upward. His lips wrap around the delicate skin there and he sucks, something that earns him a moan from yourself. You keen on him in content and jut your hips forward, silently urging him on for more. His breath hitches in his throat but, when you roll your hips against his once more, he moans into your neck.
“Baby girl,” he grunts. “If you keep doing that, I won’t be able to hold myself back.”
You smirk as you nip at his neck, making him growl. “Don’t hold back. I don’t want you to.”
Tingles run down his spine at the way your lips brush against his skin and he tugs you closer to him. He is so absorbed in the wholeness that is you that he can hardly grasp onto a reasonable thought. Especially not when you’re moaning against his neck with a slight whine of, “Fuck, Jungkook, I need you so bad.”
It takes all that he can in him to not cave at your touch and he shifts beneath your weight, gnawing on his lower lip. You can feel the bulge in his pants begin to brush against your inner thigh and the sensation against your throbbing core suddenly excites you. You roll your hips once more against him as you smash your mouth against his for a passionate kiss. It’s messy and eager and hot and you don’t plan on stopping. You think Jungkook has the same intentions with the way he is stifling his moans into the form of grunts and groans, his fingers digging tightly into your skin enough to make you gasp, but then his hold becomes ironclad and he stops your movements with ease.
“No, baby girl, we can’t,” he whispers against your lips.
You lean back on his lap and look at him curiously, admiring the way his lips are bruised red and the way his neck is suddenly marked raw. “Why not?”
Jungkook finds it hard to focus as you run your hands up his chest and back down, your fingertips dancing on the top of his belt. He grabs your hand then, twining your fingers together as he usually does and shaking his head gently.
“Not now,” he says. “I said I wouldn’t force you to do anything you don’t want.”
“But I do want this,” You insist. You lean forward to kiss him once more, moaning in pleasure. “God, I want this so much.”
Jungkook smiles weakly. His hand comes up to grasp gingerly at your cheek and he makes you look at him with delicate gestures.
“You’re drunk. I’m drunk,” he says. “Sometimes people make the wrong decisions when they’re drunk. I don’t want you to regret this when you wake up in the morning, even if you insist right now that you won’t. Okay?”
You sit back on his lap once more, dumbfounded and, albeit, slightly let down, but there’s a part of you that is thankful for Jungkook’s sudden decision. You relent at once, somehow letting a reasonable thought in your mind tell you that Jungkook is right, and you nod.
“Sorry,” You sigh and then yawn. “You’re right. I’m just━ just tired.”
Jungkook nods understandingly, and pecks your forehead gently, a gesture that is enough to leave your head spinning. You push yourself off of him and plop onto the bed with a heavy exhale of air as soon as your head hits the pillow. Once it does, you find it incredibly hard to keep your eyes open and Jungkook smiles lightly. It’s the candid genuinity that makes Jungkook’s heart swell.
“Why don’t you sleep here?” he suggests. “I’ll sleep in your room for the night if you want, or on the couch━”
He’s already standing to his feet when you stop him.
“Wait, Jungkook,” You mumble. When you speak next, your voice is an involuntary drunk whine, “This dress is so uncomfortable━ I just━”
He sees you struggling to reach the zipper of the dress and chuckles under his breath.
“Let me help you, baby,” he hums, his hands brushing against yours as he thwarts your attempts. “Just rest.”
You begin to argue, sounding very similar to a needy child, but Jungkook simply hushes you. In your drunken tired state, you don’t seem nearly as flustered as Jungkook is as he unzips your dress very slowly and the feeling is so foreign that it has Jungkook’s nerves mingling with fear. He’s undressed a girl plenty of times and never once has he been this timid. He finds it hard to focus his eyes elsewhere when he has you shimmying out of the dress because, Jesus, did you have to wear black lace panties with a matching strapless bra? You’re nearly stripped bare before him and he gulps as his eyes flicker down fleetingly over your body and your feminine curves. Before he can linger any longer, he is grabbing one of his plain t-shirts that is hanging off the back of a nearby armchair and slips it over your head and body with such soothing motions and all Jungkook can focus on now is just how cute you look in his shirt, your lips parted slightly, and your hair a hectic mess.
By the time your head hits the pillow once more, Jungkook can hear your tiny snores, and he can’t bring himself to shake you awake to help you into a pair of his sweatpants. Instead, he reaches for the blankets below you and tosses it over your figure and you shift, pushing yourself onto your side and nuzzling your head further into the pillow. As he is straightening up and exhaling a breath of air, he feels a small tug at his hand. He looks down then only to see your hand grasping at his fingertips and hears you mumble, through slurring words and a curtain of hair that crowds your mouth, “Stay.”
Jungkook knows it’s a terrible idea. He knows, deep down, just how badly this is affecting him with all these strange nerves coming to light and with just how easily he seems to give in to your demand. He smiles tenderly once more and nods, despite sighing under his breath.
“Of course, baby,” he whispers. “I’ll stay right here. Go back to sleep, okay?”
You don’t reply, but he doesn’t necessarily need you to. The serenity that is your slumbering face is enough for him and so he changes into a comfortable shirt and sweatpants before slipping under the sheets with you where he falls asleep without trouble. When he wakes in the morning, he finds that your limbs are tangled messily with his and you are pressed closed to his chest, his own arm slung over your waist, and he decides, in that moment, that he made the right choice after all.
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You return from Paris feeling refreshed, strangely, and your heart yearning for another magical getaway to a foreign city.
As if buying you the items he did in Paris wasn’t enough, Jungkook gives you yet another check of money for your time and it is surely enough to make your heart stop altogether. You aren’t quite sure how he knows, but he gives you just the right money to pay for your rent, and then some. It doesn’t just surprise you, but your landlord is at a loss for words when he sees you hand him a sealed envelope with the money you still owe him that very Tuesday, though he doesn’t question it.
Your encounters with Jungkook don’t stop there.
For some reason, you convince yourself to stay with the deal a little longer (perhaps a little selfishly, though you do admit you enjoy the company of Jungkook), but you have also convinced yourself that he’ll disappear, vanish without a trace, after returning from Paris. Fortunately, he doesn’t disappear, and he doesn’t act as if your relationship with him is simply just a job. You find him opening up to you, talking to you as a friend would, and you, in turn, find yourself falling more and more under his charm. Sometimes, he needs you for important business dinners or weddings or polo matches and other gatherings he’s invited to and, each time you go, he pays you fully in return. He always tells you such social events make these businessmen who they are, as if it were all one elaborate game. Other times, he invites you to do the simplest of tasks with him. When it first happens, only a week or two after Paris, you’re lounging in a relaxing bath late one Friday evening and you receive a text from the boy that simply says something along the lines of, “Are you busy? I could really use you right now. Come over if you can.”
Then, shortly after, he sends you another message that asks you, simply, to bring a swimsuit if you have one. The ambiguity and peculiarity of his message, as well as the fear of making sure you don’t disappoint him (but also, quite possibly, the chance to just see him), makes you scurry out of your bath and rush to get changed before chasing out the door. You hadn’t been to his home before then but he texts you his address after you reply that you are on your way and it doesn’t come as a surprise when you see he lives in one of the fancier parts of downtown. The address he gives you leads you straight to a high-rise complex in Midtown Manhattan. The subtly grand lobby is still overwhelming and the doorman and concierge greet you formally as you walk by. Jungkook’s abode, naturally, is the luxury penthouse located at the very top of the building and, walking past the other employees and residents to reach the elevator, makes you feel ashamed of the tight yoga pants and oversized shirt you wear (though no one is actually looking).
You wait anxiously in the elevator and walk the short distance to his entrance as soon as the elevator doors slide open to his floor. Earlier he had sent you a text that instructed you to just simply walk in and so you cautiously press open the front door of the penthouse. It swings wide open and your jaw drops at the stunning view before you. From what you can see, there are two floors to the penthouse, and the main floor has the very outer wall made of ceiling-to-floor glass window panes that look down onto the bustling city below. It is spacious and lavishly furnished and all you know is that your tiny apartment pales in comparison to this. You take a step inside and let the door shut behind you and, as soon as it clicks into place, a chirp of a bark makes you jump. Dashing straight out of a room and charging straight for you is a small white dog, yapping along the way at the newcomer that is you. Your face instantly lights up at the sight and, as the dog begins jumping and barking by your feet, you bend over to scoop him up in your arms, scratching just behind his ears.
“And who are you, cutie?” You coo. “How could Jungkook keep someone like you a secret from me?”
The dog twists in your hold and begins licking at your chin, earning an eruption of giggles from you as you try and gently push him away.
“I see you’ve met Gureum.”
Your head snaps up at the sound of Jungkook’s voice.  He’s standing near a corner he had just turned, leaning casually against the wall. The grin on his face is undeniably strong as he watches you cradle his dog in your arms. He pushes himself off the wall and takes leisurely strides towards you.
“He’s been by my side ever since I was a teen,” he says. “He’s a pretty loyal dog, y’know, and he and I have this special bond going on so I just needed to make sure you were worthy enough to be introduced to him, otherwise I would have told you sooner.”
You burst out into laughter and shake your head. “Well, I’m glad I passed the test and was worthy enough to meet him. Gureum, hm?” You pause and glance back down at the dog. “It means cloud, right? A cute name for a cute pup. I think we’ll get along just fine.”
You plant a kiss on Gureum’s face and then place him down on the ground where he immediately darts off to grab a toy before tottering back. You straighten up to look at Jungkook and gesture around his home.
“Nice place you got here,” You say. “Need a roommate?”
“You want to live together already?” he teases. “You have to at least let me take you out on a few more dates before we get that serious.”
You chuckle lightly and the sound is so silvery and sweet that it makes Jungkook’s heart sing. He is watching you with admiration as you kick off your shoes and begin walking further into his apartment.
“So, what did you want from me tonight?” You asked. “Your text seemed a little urgent.”
“Oh, right,” Jungkook says. He begins following after you and shrugs. “Well, I was going to ask you if you could be my date for an upcoming event. It’s a charity gala ball that my parents and the company will be endorsing in a few months time. It’s fairly a big deal and my father thinks it’ll be good for publicity, again, if I have a proper date by my side since I’ll be hosting the night of the gala and saying a speech.”
“Of course I’ll come with you,” You say. “But did you really have to tell me to come all the way here just to say that?”
Jungkook bursts out into laughter. “I know I could have done that over the phone but, truthfully, I really just wanted to spend a little more time with you. Now that our business talk is out of the way, how does a pizza and movie night sound to you?”
He flings himself down onto the couch nearby and lounges out on it, staring up at you with a look of anticipation. You can’t help but quirk a brow, biting your lower lip to hide the smile that threatens to paint your face.
“You just wanted to spend time with me?” You echo. “So you called me over for pizza and a movie?”
Jungkook nods, beaming up at you. “What do you say?”
“I’ll stay only if you let me have first pick of the movie.”
He pushes himself up to sit (at which point, Gureum takes the liberty of jumping up to sit in his owner’s lap and Jungkook casually threads his fingers through the dog’s fur) and grins, “You can pick every movie we watch.”
“Well, then, if that’s the case━” You plop down next to him on the couch and wiggle around until you’re comfortably positioned. “A pizza and movie night sounds absolutely divine.”
“Good,” he says. “Because I already ordered the pizza while you were on your way here.”
You throw your head back and moan a bit too excessively but it only makes Jungkook laugh. “You spoil me rotten, you know that?”
He shrugs sheepishly and shoots you a wink that has your heart leaping in your chest. He leans in close with a wicked smirk on his face and hums, “Only the best for my baby girl. And, of course while you’re here, we can take a dip in the pool.”
“So that’s what you meant by the cryptic swimsuit text,” You giggle. “I’d love to go for a swim. This apartment’s pool must be amazing.”
“Oh, yes, that one is quite spectacular but I was thinking we could stay within the comfort of my home.”
He says this so simply that you almost don’t register his words. Then it seems to dawn on you the meaning behind his words and you are gawking in pure amazement. “Are you telling me you have a pool in your penthouse?”
Jungkook smirks humorously. “Is it too much?”
You can’t help but shake your head at the cocky tone that twines with his words. A small, bemused thought pops into your head that begs the question just what have you gotten yourself into? A month ago, you would have never been able to imagine living such a life and yet here you are, as Jungkook so graciously had invited you into his own personal world.
Soon enough, you’re standing by the edge of the pool in Jungkook’s home ━ and, yes, he really does have his own personal pool. Tucked away on the second floor of his penthouse, high above the city of New York, like his own perfect little oasis. When you see it, when you’re dressed in nothing but a red bikini standing on the edge of the pool, it feels like a dream. The buildings of Manhattan tower around the penthouse, dazzling with lit windows that shine their soft glow onto the rippling surface of the pool. Somewhere far below you can hear the sound of the city breathing, living; of a distant wailing siren and the squeal of a tire and a blaring horn. And, when you look above, it feels as if you’re so close to the sky that you could reach out and touch the hiding stars.
Jungkook, who is behind you and watching the look of awe paint your face, will smile to himself and then he will give you one playful nudge that pushes you into the pool with a gratifying splash and a yelp of startle on your part that you know will fade into nothing to the people far down below when you’re up this high. He’ll join you in the pool and you’ll sit with him in the serene space, sipping on a bottle of wine and enjoying the pizza he had ordered.
Up there, so high above Manhattan, it feels as if you have the whole world in the palm of your hand and you tell yourself that if this really is a dream, you never want to wake up from it.
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After that night, it isn’t uncommon for Jungkook to text or call you with equally vague messages, asking you to come over to this apartment only to embark on the utmost mundane things. Once, he calls you asking for your help and, when you rush to his apartment, he is debating which flavour ice cream he should bring out for yet another movie night you spend together. Another time, he calls you to accompany him on his walk with Gureum, or to help him buy groceries, or be his extra food critic when he decides to order takeout from a new restaurant.
Each time he calls or texts you, each time he asks you to rush over only for something minor, he ends up paying you in cheques and still spoils you with “little” gifts every now and then, like a watch one night, a pair of diamond earrings another, a shirt you had been eyeing at the store one day when he and you had passed by a boutique while walking Gureum. Though the money and gifts are, by no means, any less valuable or less cherished than they already are by you, your sudden time alone with Jungkook becomes something much more than just material pleasure. When it’s just you and him, curled up next to one another on his couch as you watch the flickering images of the movie play out before you, whether basking in the silence or laughing together until you cry, those moments become precious and sacred and you find yourself enjoying his company much more than his money or gifts.
Your relationship with him carries on like this for weeks upon weeks, until three months seem to pass, though it certainly doesn’t feel like it at all (especially when you are consumed with finishing school). The money he gives you, as well as the money you earn from both jobs you still work, is enough for you to keep paying your rent and your loans off, long after you’ve graduated from school (another celebration that Jungkook so graciously attends and earns strange looks from your friends and family when they see just how close the two of you are). As a gift for your graduation, Jungkook calls you late one evening when you are relaxing in a warm bubble bath. When you answer the call, cradling your phone between your ear and shoulder, he greets you with, “How do you feel about Italy?”
You quirk a brow. “It’s beautiful. I’ve always wanted to go there. Why are you asking?”
“Well, yes, it is quite beautiful,” he says. “But how do you feel about going to Italy? Say, tomorrow morning?”
You nearly drop your phone into the bath when you register his question. You sit up rather quickly, as if that will help steady you against the tremendous question. “Is it for a business thing?”
“Just an us thing,” he says. “To celebrate your graduation.”
He already knows your answer, as do you. Yet you still sputter over your words and then, with a sheepishly large smile plastered on your face, exclaim your approval of the spontaneous trip.
In the morning, Jungkook will come to pick you up in yet another chauffeured drive, much like it had been for the trip to Paris. This time he decides to take you to the Amalfi Coast, a coastal town in southern Italy. You land in Naples and rent a car from the airport (a Lamborghini, to be exact) which Jungkook and you take turns driving with the roof down, the wind in your hair. The narrow winding roads on the sides of the coastal cliff seem to be no match for the exhilarating speed of the car and much of the drive is spent soaking up the rays of the warm sun. The quaint town of the Amalfi Coast is built upon the sides of the steep cliff with small alleyways, cobblestoned streets, blossoming lemon trees, and colourful buildings that spiral down, down, down, to the rocky shores of the beach and the sparkling cerulean waters of the sea. The villa Jungkook rents has a luxurious view of the sea. It’s all shimmering white and ivory and cobalt blue detailings, all culminating in one magnificently breathtaking oasis.
The first day in the town is spent on the beach, and the evening is spent wandering about the streets with you in a sheer white and floral Zimmermann sundress courtesy of Jungkook, sipping on limoncello and eating dinner at an outdoor restaurant as the bright sky fades to night. The streets are just as lively as ever with tourists and distant music, the town glowing softly with its burning lights and candles against the starry sky, and everything is simply perfect. Whimsical. The next day is spent with Jungkook’s friends. You’ve seen them before in passing at other social events you have accompanied with Jungkook and, unbeknownst to you at the time, at the lounge when Jungkook and his friend had stumbled upon your talk with your manager. You come to learn that this same friend is Park Jimin, a wealthy man not much older than Jungkook himself, who is built upon old money and whose family owns a chain of successful global hotels and resorts. Jimin invites the pair of you to a day on his yacht out at sea with a few of his other closest friends.
The yacht itself is quite a spectacle, with three floors to it and a personal pool located on the deck, as well as a bar and a lounge area. You spend most of your time sipping on piña coladas and sunbathing in the glittering sun atop the deck, adorned in a Proenza Schouler black swimsuit and a wide-brimmed sun hat. Jungkook’s friends, you come to find, aren’t as insouciant as Jungkook himself but also aren’t as arrogant as the customers you have encountered at your work at the lounge back in Manhattan. Whatever the case, they are nice enough to invite you into their group and make certain you feel as welcome as you can. When Jimin decides to take the cabin cruiser for a spin around the sea, you stand at the bow of the deck, your hands clasped tightly on the back of your hat so as to keep it from flying away, and laugh spritely as Jimin speeds around in wide circles with the sea’s mist dusting across your face.
At some point, the cabin cruiser comes to a halt, softly rocking against the gentle current of the sea. Jimin is the first one to jump into the water, followed by yourself, and a few other of their friends. When Jungkook joins you in the shimmering ethereal blue waters, the smile on your face is irreplaceable and one that makes a similar grin form on his face. The cool water is a relief against your skin which had, up until that point, been warm with the sticky heat of the day. Jungkook is by your side in an instant, just a short distance away from the cruiser and his other friends. By the time he joins you, you’re positively beaming, bursting with joy, and entirely overwhelmed with appreciation for the kindness of Jungkook and the beauty of Italy.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asks humorously. Of course he doesn’t need an answer ━ not when you are so clearly content and at peace.
“Jungkook,” You sigh his name dreamily. “I’ve never been happier.”
He smiles gingerly. “I believe you.”
“I still don’t want you to think you’re making a mistake by spending all this money on someone like me,” You say.
He quirks a brow, examining your features as if to decipher your words, and squints past the sun.
“That’s still what you think?” he asks finally. “That I regret all the time we’ve been spending together? Because you’d be wrong. When I first asked you about all of this, I did it because I wanted to help you, because I like you. And all our time spent together since then… It’s been incredible.”
“You really mean that?” You ask timidly.
“Of course I do,” he says. “Look, when I’m with you, things feel different.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“Good. Definitely good.”
You catch his gaze on you and, despite all the money and glory he has to his name, he looks at you unlike he has looked to anything else before. As if you’re worth far more than all the gold jewelry and diamonds and pretty coastal towns and designer clothes he has ever seen. As if you’re the whole world and more, right in front of him, under the glittering Italian sun. His eyes then flicker from yours, down to your lips, and you certainly don’t miss it. There’s a tiny voice in the back of your mind that begs you desperately to kiss him. Maybe he’s feeling the same way because, slowly, your faces inch towards one another.
He comes so close, in fact, that you can feel his breath fanning against your neck, can smell the sea’s salt on his skin and the faded scent of his cologne. You come so close to one another that it, perhaps, becomes a little too dangerous. Before anything can happen, Jimin is calling out to the two of you and you both instantly freeze. Jungkook laughs almost sheepishly and you can’t help but join in. Still, even as the day unfolds and you become distracted with every other beautiful detail of the Amalfi Coast, you can’t help but wonder what would have happened had you and Jungkook not been interrupted by Jimin.
And, by the end of the night when you’ve both tucked in for the night in the villa, the realization dawns on you that you, quite possibly, are falling in love with Jungkook.
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Just when you believe things are going impeccably well, the bitterness of reality finally seems to settle in.
A few weeks after your stay in Italy, Jimin invites both Jungkook and you to a party he is hosting at his family hotel in Seoul. Most of the night unfurls smoothly, with you adorned magnificently in a cream-coloured Alexander Wang slip dress and Jungkook in a Saint Laurent dress shirt, lounging by the bar near the lobby of the hotel and sipping on martinis. Jimin’s hotel is full of a type of grandeur that resembles a palace with its elegant ornate decorations and ebony wood carvings. Seoul itself is as spectacular as ever, the metropolis towering around you and all illuminated by the city’s lights. Yet all of this and Jungkook still focuses only on you, his voice low and charming over the soft thump of music, and his eyes twinkling mischievously.
Some time during the night, Jimin begins chatting to you and Jungkook disappears. At first he is chatting to an old confidant but, when you turn to look at him the next time, you find him with another girl at the bar, seemingly flirting with her. Whatever the case, they appear to be rather cozy with one another, and though you know you have no warrant to be jealous, it still creeps upon you without warning and sabotages your night. You try to avert your attention, try to chat with Jungkook’s friends, and flirt with other rich entrepreneurs but nothing seems to distract you long enough ━ not until Jimin mentions something that grabs your attention.
“You know,” he muses pensively. He pauses to take a sip of his cognac and then says, “I’ll admit: I’m surprised you and Jungkook have lasted so long.”
“What do you mean?” You ask.
“Well, it’s not like you two are dating, right?” When you continue to stare up at Jimin with a dumbfounded expression, he continues. “The only reason Jungkook confronted you in the first place was because his parents were pissed at him. Something about him tarnishing their name by his ‘free’ lifestyle, if you will. They got mad at him and his rampaging bachelor ways, having flings with random strangers every other weekend in a foreign city. His parents are really stuck in their old-school mentality; they just don’t want Jungkook to drag the wrong kind of people into the family money and business. They would have even gone so far as to kick him from being CEO of their company.”
“They what?”
“Oh, yeah,” Jimin says. “Didn’t he tell you? That’s partly what the charity gala is for. His father doesn’t think Jungkook will be able to settle down anytime soon. He’s been under a lot of scrutiny. Jungkook was considerably worried there for a moment; I’ve never seen him like that before. I suggested he fall from the limelight for a bit but he thought he could fix all of this. I guess that’s where you came in. I didn’t think Jungkook would last long constantly being tied down but he’s certainly proved me wrong.”
He chuckles then, as if this whole thing was quite amusing to him. Though you aren’t quite sure how to react. You knew Jungkook wanted you to be his date at important social events for good publicity, but it never dawned on you that he could only be using you for his own sake. Maybe it didn’t mean anything. Maybe Jungkook had simply forgotten to tell you, but that just felt as if you are uselessly grasping at excuses. Either way, it slowly begins to dawn on you the whole ordeal of your relationship with Jungkook and, suddenly, you feel used.
You tell yourself Jimin’s words shouldn’t have meant anything anyway because it’s not as if you and Jungkook are dating but you can’t deny the fact that they leave a lasting impression on you. But that’s how it had all started, hadn’t it? Or maybe not. Jungkook had approached you on the basis of needing your company, but he had made it sound so simple ━ as if it was you who needed the help. And you can’t deny the hope you had felt building within you. Had everything Jungkook said to you been a lie? Every pretty word, telling you how great he had claimed it felt to be with you? Jimin’s words all culminate in one prominent thought which is that maybe Jungkook only really needed you long enough for the charity ball, simply so he could earn back his father’s trust and secure his spot in the company.
Whether it was one too many martinis or strawberry daiquiris or the lavish designer dress that suddenly feels too constricting on your body or the way Jungkook was so carelessly flirting with another girl, much like he had done before in Paris and even in Italy, you need to escape. Everything just seems so suffocating and ridiculous. But moreover, you are reminded by the sobering fact that this lifestyle you have suddenly surrounded yourself with is one you have mocked before. It’s one you have claimed you would never have the privilege of understanding, one that you never really yearned to be a part of if it was anything like the wealthy folk who inhabited the bar lounge you work at.
So, you decide to leave.
You aren’t quite certain your abrupt decision will do any good but suddenly all you crave is the comfort of your own home, however much it may pale in comparison to villas in Italy and luxurious hotels in Seoul. You don’t bother telling Jungkook. Instead, you send him a single text that warns him of your departure and inform Jimin who, in his drunken bliss, may or may not remember to tell Jungkook.
And somehow, after you are able to secure a flight back to New York within a few hours and are seated aboard the plane, you’re able to convince yourself that maybe Jungkook wouldn’t miss you anyway.
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Out of your own stubborn will, you begin to ignore Jungkook.
The day after you return to New York, you are greeted by a voicemail from Jungkook who asks curiously why you left. Then, when you don’t respond to that, he decides to send you various texts throughout the week that continue to ask if anything happened, if you’re doing okay, if you’re mad at him. At some point he sends you a text asking if you can come to his place and you decide to respond with a short and cold text simply saying you’re too busy. You don’t know exactly what you expect from pushing Jungkook away. Maybe you had imagined he would forget you altogether and you could casually slip back into the real world that you had lived before meeting Jungkook. Of course that isn’t the case. Jungkook knows something is wrong; he knows that you’re angry but he has no means of knowing why you’re mad at him. Yet he refuses to stop trying to contact you.
It starts with a grand bouquet of saffron crocuses surrounded by Casablanca lilies and gardenias. It first appears at the bar lounge, a massive and beautiful arrangement of flowers encased in a crystal clear vase taking up most of the space of the bar counter which doesn’t exactly please Namjoon. A single card is tucked amongst the petals of the flowers, your name printed in pretty script. It doesn’t say who it’s from but you don’t need to know the name to understand. You decide to leave it at the bar, much to Namjoon’s dismay. The next week, you answer a knock at your door and are greeted to a personal delivery of a small neatly wrapped package that is revealed to be a rose gold Cartier bracelet encrusted with diamonds. You tell the delivery man at the door to return it. The week after that, you answer the front door once more and come face to face with delivery men placing a dozen bouquets of red roses around your apartment. This time you are forced to keep them, and stare at them distantly as they overwhelm your small kitchen in a wild secret garden.
The same week of the gift of the plethora of roses is also the same week of Jungkook’s charity gala. You try to convince yourself to stay home but you can’t not go. Even if Jungkook was possibly using you to his own benefit, it would be a shame if your missing self was indirectly one of the factors that caused Jungkook’s father to change his mind. Besides, it is the least you can do for the man after he had showered you with attention and materialistic pleasure, even if none of it really mattered to him. Your invitation to the gala still stands, that much you know, and the dress Jungkook had bought for you weeks ago is still hanging on the back of your bedroom door. It is a long, A-line Zuhair Murad gown with a plunging neckline, and the tulle and fabric of which is made of a light blush colour. It’s encrusted with sparkling swarovskis where they cluster mostly at the bodice and then trail along the rest of the skirt like falling stars. It’s a breathtaking, elegant piece, and you tell yourself that it is the sole reason why you ultimately decide to go to the gala because it really would be a shame to never wear the dress out.
When you finally do arrive at the gala, it is at Pier 15 in Lower Manhattan. The party itself is on a grand luxury yacht and the duration of the gala is meant to take place sailing around the harbor once night has fallen. As it rests docked by the pier, the yacht is already crowded with various elites and socialites and certain celebrities as the stragglers still trickle in. The party is well on its way, with the guests mingling with one another, enjoying hor d’oeuvres and champagne out of crystal flute glasses, as a live band, somewhere, plays smooth jazz music. You spot Jungkook before he notices you, looking handsome in another Armani suit, standing at the front of the bow of the deck and greeting newcomers. Beside him stands an older woman and man dressed impeccably, both of whom share a striking resemblance to Jungkook. Though you have never met them before, you assume they are his parents. You approach them shyly, with your back straight and your head held high. Jungkook notices you first and his eyes widen in surprise, his jaw unhinging open (partly because it feels as if he hasn’t seen you in months, but mostly because of how divine you look).
“Y/N!” Your name slips past Jungkook’s mouth in an exclamation before he can bite it back. He moves forward as if preparing to walk up to you but he has to hold himself back. He doesn’t miss the way you desperately try to avoid his stare, or the way you stand rigidly beside him.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” You apologize, though you say it mostly for the act you are putting on for his parents. “I got caught up at work and the traffic was horrid.”
“Oh, that’s certainly alright,” The woman says brightly. “You must be Y/N.”
“We’ve heard plenty about you from our son,” The man chuckles to himself. “I was wondering when we would have the pleasure of meeting you.”
Jungkook, who is still in a state of shock, opens and clamps his mouth shut repeatedly, frantically trying to grasp onto a proper train of thought. Eventually, he snaps from his daze and nods towards you. For the sake of the act, he places his hand on your back between your shoulder blades rather than the small of your back he had grown quite acquainted with.
“Mom, dad, meet Y/N,” he introduces. “Y/N, meet my parents.”
You shake their hands in a firm grip and nod politely, tight-lipped, when they introduce their names to you. Soon after, when the sun has dipped below the horizon, the boat takes off on its slow journey around the harbor and the party begins. While Jungkook mingles with his guests, you saunter off to the bar where you concede you will be spending most of your night. A few of Jungkook’s friends are there whom you remember from Italy and so you chat with them if only to pass the time. Fortunately Jungkook is much too busy to find a moment to come up to you. In fact, the only time you are around Jungkook is when he begins his speech to the partygoers at the gala on the deck of the ship. A handful of hours later, the boat docks by the pier once more and, while the party continues to unfurl within the yacht, you decide to venture home.
You have only made it off the yacht and onto the pier when you are forced to come to an abrupt halt. Because there, rushing off the ramp connected to the deck, and hopping down onto the pier in a hurry to catch you with a call of your name, is Jungkook. Truthfully, you had been hoping to escape the party without him noticing; meanwhile, Jungkook, who had been subject to a dull conversation about stocks with an old business partner of his father’s, was hoping he would find you once he managed to break free from the party. Yet now that he has you within his grasps, his words fall short. He stares at you curiously, perhaps a little confused as his brows knit together at the sight of you. There’s a dozen things he wants to ask you, and a dozen more things he wants to tell you, but he can’t.
Instead, he asks, “Where are you going?”
“Home,” You reply. Behind Jungkook, the ensuing party can be heard ━ an amass of sound ranging from regal laughter to soft music. Behind you, and out towards the city, you can hear the sound of passing citizens and tourists, the whizzing of cars and the wailing of a siren. “You don’t need me anymore. Your parents are gone. They looked pleased. You can clearly go have fun now. Maybe go back to that girl who was eyeing you at the bar.”
Jungkook, staring at you with a dumbfounded expression, asks the first thing that pops into his mind that seems the most logical. “Have you been drinking?”
You simply shake your head, though Jungkook has an unnerving feeling that it is more of an act of scrutiny towards him and not an answer to his question. It’s Jungkook’s fault anyway; he wants to talk to you, but he can’t seem to formulate his thoughts into words.
“Just go back to the party, Jungkook,” You sigh.
“I don’t want to,” he says with a frown. He takes a step towards you and pauses. “I want to stay with you.”
When you don’t respond, he pushes himself forward once more. He doesn’t stop until he is standing right before you, where he so very carefully takes your right hand in his. It’s a small action but it’s enough to make your heart swoon. He glances up, makes sure he catches your wandering stare with his.
“Come home with me,” he says. “Whatever’s happening… We can talk it out. Don’t you want to?”
You do. You want to tell him the truth but your stubborn mind warns you to be wary and the small fact that you feel as if you can’t trust Jungkook anymore is enough to make you wince. Perhaps he can sense your hesitation, or notices the way you flinch because he squeezes your hand just enough. And maybe it’s the way his deep carob eyes pour deeply into yours, or the proximity between your two beating hearts, or the way he holds your hand that makes you cave. You tell yourself, much like you had at the start of all this, that just once more wouldn’t hurt. That maybe he’ll finally answer all your questions or that maybe you’ll learn to forget everything you had heard and let Jungkook spoil you with riches.
So, when you nod your confirmation to Jungkook, you not only startle him, but yourself too. He abandons his dwindling party on the fancy yacht for you. He calls for a chauffeur and drives with you in a tense silence back to his home. The perverse silence follows you even as you clamber out of the car, into the apartment’s lobby, and during the elevator ride to the penthouse. When you finally make it to his home, you are disappointed to feel nothing. You don’t know how long you’re in his apartment for, though it really isn’t for that long.
You’ve kicked off your heels and have wandered over to the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room just as he’s shed his suit jacket and tossed it somewhere on one of the couches. He asks if you want something to drink ━ such a mundane question for your relationship with Jungkook, but what else could he ask you at a time like this? He just wants to know what has been plaguing your mind long enough to drive yourself away from him ━ but you only shake your head. Your arms are wound protectively over your chest and, as you eye the illuminated city down below, you are overcome with the feeling of shame and embarrassment. And all because of one sole thought that reminds you: you don’t belong here. Here in this luxurious dress, here in this luxurious penthouse, here with such a luxurious man.
As if that is the cataclystic thought you need, you turn around on one pointed heel and shake your head. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come here tonight. This was a mistake.”
You’re halfway to the door when Jungkook stops you by speaking up.
“Do you mean coming here tonight was a mistake?” he asks. “Or are you really trying to tell me that you think we’re a mistake?”
“There isn’t even a we,” You retort. When you turn to face him, his brows are pinched together in a scowl.
“What has been up with you lately?” he asks. Though his words may sound hostile, his voice is a gentle plea. “You’re mad, aren’t you? Well, what did I do?”
When you don’t respond, he decides to continue on.
“Didn’t you get my gifts?” he asks. “They were the only way I could reach you to apologize. Did you not like them? Because if that’s the case, just say the word, and I’ll buy you anything you want. Just━”
“That’s not it, Jungkook.”
“Then what is it?” His words are a little more vexed than usual. When he realizes this, he pauses and takes a deep breath. Then, running a hand through his perfectly parted hair, he continues on. “I can’t know what the problem is when you won’t tell me what’s bothering you ━ when you keep pushing me away. But I’m trying my hardest to please you. I just need you to talk to me.”
“So you thought the gifts would work?” You ask. When your eyes settle on him, they’re narrowed into a glare. “Did you━ what? Think you could just buy my attention back? Or buy my love? I’m sorry if it came across that way but I’m not another one of your cheap fucks. I’m not going to come crawling back to you just for your money. I just━ I’ve had enough of all of this! It’s so stupid! I feel so ridiculous.”
You raise your hands in the air in a sign of defeat, though really you are bitterly gesturing to the pretty dress adorning your curves and sigh. Cautiously, Jungkook takes another step towards you. “Y/N, please just tell me what’s wrong.”
“Did you even really care about me?”
The question is so abrupt that it catches him off guard. He takes a moment to respond, noting the way you wrap your arms protectively over your chest.
“What are you talking about?” he asks wearily.
“This whole deal between us,” You say. “You just needed a perfect cover so you could impress your parents, right? Secure your spot as CEO so you wouldn’t lose all your money? And might as well get some bonus points for deciding to ‘settle’ down with a poor girl while you’re at it, right? Was that all that I was to you? A cover and the charity case?”
You assume by the way his eyes widen with apprehension and the way his lips are pulled in a thin line that you must be right. He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it, his words stammering in his mind.
“How did you know?” he asks.
“So it’s true?” You ask sourly.
“No. I mean, yes. It’s half true,” he says. Then he shakes his head sullenly. “It was Jimin who told you, wasn’t it?”
“What does it matter?” You retort. “The point is, I’m right. You were just using me the whole time. I bet, on all these fancy excursions you took me on, you and your friends would laugh about it and me. You know, I knew you were rich but I didn’t take you for an asshole too.”
“No!” he exhales sharply, as if he has just felt a horrendous pang of pain in his chest. “I mean, you’re right about my parents and about the CEO position, but everything else is wrong.”
Clearly, you don’t look amused. Your patience is wearing thin, and the way you stare up at him as if he is some stranger altogether makes his chest and throat swell.
“I made a mistake. I’m sorry, okay? I should have told you from the beginning,” he sighs. “They were mad at me ━ my parents. They thought I wasn’t taking the position as CEO seriously enough and they would have taken it away from me. But it wasn’t the fear of losing the money that made me feel ashamed of it all. It was the fact that I had disappointed my parents, and I wanted to make things right. I wanted to show them I was responsible enough to take on the company. I wanted them to trust me.”
“So you had to use me?”
“No!” he shakes his head furiously. “Look… All the business dinners and social events I took you to over these past few months ━ I’d have gone to them all even if you weren’t by my side. The first dinner in Paris I took you to ━ I told you I needed a date to impress those associates and it worked. My parents heard about how well it went and they kept praising you, even though they hadn’t met you. For once they didn’t look so disappointed with me. Having you by my side was just a plus. I wasn’t really using you; you just came at the right time so we could both benefit from this deal between us. But when I first approached you at the lounge, it wasn’t about all of this. It was about you. Because I had seen you there before and because I overheard how you were scared you would get kicked out of your apartment. I wanted to help you because I like you, not because I thought you were a charity case or whatever you think it was. It was because I genuinely wanted to get closer to you. And what I said to you in Italy? I meant it. I meant everything.”
You’re gnawing on your lower lip anxiously, watching him carefully. You haven’t realized that he has slowly been inching closer to you until then. You ask quietly, maybe a little tiredly, “But what do I really mean to you, Jungkook? Pretty words mean one thing but… It’s just been months since this whole thing started and nothing’s ever happened between us and I always see you with pretty girls but I can’t be the only one feeling different. I mean, even in Italy ━ you can’t tell me we weren’t going to kiss but then you turned away and━”
You’re cut off abruptly with a kiss on your mouth, his mouth silencing your own mouth with an unbreakable seam of your lips. It catches you completely off guard but it reminds you so suddenly of all your harbored feelings towards him. The kiss is hard, fast, feverish and it happens all at once that you barely have time to register anything else before you’re parting from with him a loud pop! of your lips. You’re gawking up at him with wide eyes and an ajar mouth, lips swollen red, and breathing fast when a sudden realization dawns on you. All the magic you had felt in Paris and Italy, the dreamlike state of mind you had endured these past few months ━ most of it had been because of Jungkook. Because when you’re around Jungkook, no matter the lavish place or foreign city or pretty beach, everything feels, simply, like magic. Jungkook’s reaction is similar to yours but then it softens into something more cordial. His eyes sweep over your face softly and his hand comes up to rest gingerly upon your cheek.
“You mean the world to me,” he whispers. “And I mean that. I haven’t felt this different in such a long time. These past few months that we’ve spent together, whether it being at boring dinner parties or walking Gureum or having a movie night, it’s meant so much to me. You mean so much to me. No one else matters. No one else compares to you. Fancy cars and Italy and Paris can’t even compare to you. And I’ve never felt so━ so me and so comfortable than when I’m around you. I’m just so thankful you even gave me a chance in the first place━”
This time it is you who silences him again with another short kiss, his words exciting you all too suddenly that you think you aren’t possibly able to contain it. You part from him moments later only to mumble against his lips, “Keep kissing me, please.”
It earns a soft chuckle against your lips but Jungkook doesn’t relent. How can he ever deny such an idea when the taste of your lips is so heavenly? The soft flesh of your upper lip wedged so perfectly between his teeth, the way you sigh with delight against his mouth as the kiss progresses, the way the touch and feel of your lips ignites something so foreign, so lovely, in the very core of his heart, in his bones, exploding with each passing second behind his shut eyelids and at the tips of his fingers. He enjoys it too much to find any reason to stop and, instantaneously, his insatiable hunger for you is coming to light. His eager lips part from yours to nip and suck at your jawline and neck and it earns a beautiful gasp from you, your hands flying out to grasp onto his biceps.
“Let me take care of you tonight, baby girl,” he hums. “It’ll be all about you. I’ll show you just how much you mean to me.”
It’s the way he is whispering his words, deep and husky, that sends shivers down your spine. You curl into his chest instinctively and crane your neck, as if silently begging him for more. You can feel his lips ghost along your jugular as you try to speak next and it is enough to make you flustered and, thus, makes you give up on any attempt to communicate verbally without sounding like a fool. Instead, as if to show him your interest, you catch his lips with yours once more and kiss him eagerly. It makes Jungkook smile and suppress his chuckles as he sees just how desperate you are and, fuck, he finds it incredibly hot. In the next moment, you’re burrowing your face into his neck, your tongue laving circles at his jugular.
“Just as long as you get me out of this stupid dress,” You mumble against his throat.
“Gladly.”
He laughs lightly and you can’t help the giggle that bubbles at your lips. He grabs onto your waist then and pushes you around until he has your back pressed up against the nearest wall. He leans in against you and replaces your efforts by littering love bites along your neck and down to your collarbone. Your breath hitches in your throat and your hand immediately comes up to allow your fingers to thread in his hair and grasp at something, anything. You’re bristling with excitement as you hold your head higher, lips curling into a smirk. He hums into your neck and then he’s greedily reaching for the zipper of your dress, tugging it down.
As soon as he has the dress unzipped, he watches as you begin to shimmy your way out of the material, tugging it down your torso and then legs and Jungkook makes sure he doesn’t miss one single second of it or the white lace underwear you wear, the perfect perk of your breasts bare. It’s then that Jungkook realizes this isn’t all an elaborate dream in his head; that this is real life, and that you’re opening yourself up completely to him. As soon as you’re stepping out of the dress, Jungkook can’t help but reach out to grab onto your hips and yank you toward him, sighing into your hair, “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”
Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice the way your own hands snake up his chest to pop open the first few buttons of his dress shirt. Instead, he is much too busy on peppering kisses along your neck and shoulders, down to your collarbones, and back up again, marking you red and purple. It’s then that he starts pulling you with him as he takes quick yet careful strides backwards to the flight of stairs. It’s messy and frantic and results in a lot of time spent pressed up against walls and the railing of the stairs along the way to the second floor, greedy hands and lips unwilling to part from one another. By the time you’ve made it to his bedroom, you’ve somehow managed to unbutton his entire shirt which now hangs open against his chest and your hands selfishly run up and down his exposed skin. Once in his bedroom, he shoves you up against one of the ceiling-to-floor windows that line the wall facing his bed, his lips still attached to your neck, and one of your legs thrown haphazardly around his hips, pressing him into you.
You can feel the bulge in his pants and his restrained member poking against your inner thigh and it is what pushes you to give an experimental roll of your hips against his. A rather loud moan falls from your lips at the abrupt contact against your throbbing core and suddenly you need more. You catch his lips on yours and he decides to take the liberty of grinding against you in such agonizing slow circles that it has both of you going absolutely insane but you want to take the time to enjoy every single second of this. His hands grasp at your hips, pushing you further and further up against the window. When he parts from you in the next moment, it is with a fleeting sweep of his hungry gaze down the front of your body, his fingertips dancing faintly along your arms and sides.
He presses one last lingering kiss to your lips and then leaves a trail down your throat, between the valley of your breasts (which he gluttonously grasps at, his thumb swiping over one of your perked bugs), and to your navel. He’s on his knees by the time he’s hovering over your hips, and the leg that had been carelessly wound around his waist now rests upon his shoulder. He plants a kiss on the skin just between your hip bones, just above your panties, and surely he understands your need. His seemingly unencumbered expression is maddening. His fingers dig into your hips and hours seem to pass as you wait for him to touch the one place he neglects. A needy whimper falls from your parted lips that sounds akin to a desperate beg of, “Please, Jungkook. I need you.”
“Shh, baby girl, have patience,” he rasps. “I’m going to treat you just right.”
His promise rouses you and makes you stifle your childlike whines, though your patience is beginning to wear thin. His fingers hook around the lace material of your panties and he slowly drags them down your legs, enjoying the way you bite down on your lower lip in anticipation and watch him with hooded eyes. His eyes take in your soft glistening cunt and he sighs in admiration. Then his tongue makes contact with your clit and a small squeak rips from your throat, your hips immediately bucking forward. He doesn’t seem to mind, though, and if anything moans in delight at the taste of your cum on his tongue. He runs the wet muscle down your folds and back up, swirling slow circles against your bundle of nerves, feeling just how wet you are for him, tasting just how wet you are, and the new sensation hits you all at once, leaving your jaw hanging open. He smirks at your reaction, his tongue continuing its ministration as you’re certain he can feel your arousal grow.
“Jungkook,” You sigh, your hands twisting in his hair. “Ah, th━that feels so good━ Oh!”
The sudden gasp that tears from your throat is a result of his finger pressing against your folds. He runs his digit along your skin, coaxing it perfectly in your sticky succulence that sends a sudden shock of euphoria spiralling all over your body. As he busies himself with swirling his tongue around your sensitive clit, his lips suction perfectly around the skin and he sucks, hard, and his finger slides past your slick folds, earning a cry of delight from you. His finger curls within you and begins pumping in and out of you at a gradual pace but it, mixed with his tongue pressed against your clit, is enough to send you whirling out of control. Your legs are suddenly shaking and, had your leg not been supported by his shoulder, you fear that your knees may have buckled under the pressure
“Ah, Jungkook!” You gasp in a trembling breath. “F━Fuck, nghn━”
The sound is simply divine and Jungkook selfishly wants to hear more. He basks in the way you clench around him, the way you whimper and writhe. Soon he is picking up pace, pumping his finger in you with a reckless abandon and sucking hard at your clit, and it’s almost shameless how fast your sweet release hits you. You’re tumbling over the edge soon after, hips bucking back and forth into his mouth as you chase after your high. Jungkook joins his tongue with his fingers and starts lapping at your walls like he’s eating a full course meal and the new sensation suddenly has you howling.
“Jungkook!” You cry. “Jungkook, I’m━”
You hear him, feel him, hum against your core before it turns into a beautiful moan. He burrows deeper into you, his nose brushing against your clit, eager to carry you to your high, and he does so with ease. As soon as you feel your high rapidly approaching, you let go of all sense of control and welcome it with wide open arms. You’re hit with waves of intense pleasure as you release onto Jungkook’s tongue and finger and, fuck, the sight is even hotter than he could have imagined. He hurries to help you ride out your high, gasps and moans ripping from your throat in a messy cacophony, your hips writhing beneath him. He relents at once when you start to whimper at the oversensitivity and pulls apart, glancing up at you with a glistening mouth, his lips and chin coated with you. He licks at every inch of his face that is shimmering and moans in content.
“Fuck, you taste amazing,” he gasps, his eyes flickering up your dishevelled appearance.
You’re breathing hard, chest rising and falling, and your teeth have bitten down so hard on your lower lip that the flesh is almost swollen. He leans down once more to kiss the inside of your thigh gently and looks up at you through his long lashes. You’re still gasping for air when your hands start tugging at him, trying desperately to pull him back up to you, and he allows you to. When his face is hovering right above yours, you smash your lips hungrily against his for a messy and heated kiss. He grins against your mouth, seemingly enjoying the way you’re biting at his lips, tasting your own cum on the tip of his tongue.
“Tell me what you need from me,” he whispers between your kisses. “What do you want?”
“You,” You gasp. “All of you, fuck. I need you so bad. I’m so wet for you right now; I need you to fuck me.”
His grin shifts into a sly smirk as he hears your pleading whines and he kisses you harder. “Anything for you, baby girl.”
He lets you tackle his neck with harsh kisses and lets your digits trace down his torso to the belt on his pants. You’ve only so much as pushed his pants and boxers down his thighs when both of you grow impatient. His cock pulses, tip angry and red and leaking with milky pre-cum, and you lick your lips at the sight, unable to contain yourself. Your hands reach for his length instantly, fingers brushing against his tip before wrapping firmly around his base. His breath hitches in his throat as you start pumping him, gliding your hand slowly up and down his length, your eyes fixated only on him.
“Fuck,” he grunts abruptly. “Baby girl━”
He pauses and hisses through clenched teeth as you continue. He doesn’t at all expect you to start pleasuring him but he doesn’t mind. In fact, he is carried away as you continue to work your hands against him, jerking him off in just the right pace that he isn’t able to hold himself back. He would have been fine coming right in your perfect hands but he needs more first before he is able to let himself fully go. He struggles to find his words as you begin to quicken your pace, sputtering for air helplessly. He squeezes his eyes shut, gulping hard and trying to focus his attention away from the exaltation he’s receiving.
“Ah, s━slow down, angel,” he breathes. It nearly pains him to pry your hands off of him and when you look at him with those innocent puppy dog eyes, he has to refrain from letting go right then and there.
“What’s wrong?” You ask. “I thought you were enjoying that.”
“No━ I mean, fuck, yes, I was,” he stammers. “But I’m trying not to come undone before I’m filling you up. Fuck, I just need to be in you right now.”
“Then fuck me,” You say boldly. “I’m all yours.”
The words seem to spark a glint in his eyes that entices him to move next. One hand grips at your thigh and lifts it onto his waist, while his other hand pumps himself slowly. Your mewls of euphoria hit his ears in a ringing melody and he waits, patiently, watching as you quiver beneath him, moaning once more. Your teeth sink into your lower lip as you’re held in suspense, waiting for the heavenly contact. When it happens, when you finally feel the tip of his cock push past your folds, your jaw drops open in a silent gap. He pauses then, grunting and hissing as he adjusts to your warmth, before he’s pushing himself into you once more, slowly. He’s perfectly thick, fitting snugly in your core, letting you feel him stretch you open inch by glorious inch. It’s too much for you to handle now, and you can’t help the moan that escapes you.
“Fuck,” You whimper, head lolling back against the windowpane. “Fuck━ I━ I━”
“You’re so wet,” Jungkook grunts. “Shit, you feel amazing.”
You whimper in response and he pushes himself into you the rest of the way until he’s finally buried hilt deep within you. He pauses again, letting you both adjust to the newfound sensation.  He almost collapses against you as he pushes himself deeper into you, grinding against you in slow motions that have your head spinning. He pulls back after a while in one languid stride until only his tip is left buried in your folds before thrusting back into you with enough force to send you tottering forward. He adapts a leisurely pace of thrusting in and out of you so that you can feel him stretch you open all the way until it feels like he’s in the very back of your throat before pulling out and it drives you mad. As your arms wrap around his neck, one of his hands digs into your hips, and the other dances up the front of your chest. It first grasps at one of your breasts, his warm palm wrapping so perfectly around it, before his fingers stretch out amongst your neck.
Favouring a more suitable position, Jungkook comes to one stimulating halt when he thrusts up into you one final time. Momentarily you’re taken from your reverie when he pulls his dripping cock from your folds. Instead, he turns you around and you so easily oblige. He yanks your hips towards him, your ass pressing up firmly against his hips, and then he pushes himself into you once more. Your hands brace yourself as you plant them firmly on the window before you. From this angle, you can see the dazzling lights of the city, and though you know it isn’t possible from this high up, you wonder if any passersby far down below on the streets can see you and Jungkook in such a lewd setting. This time, his pace is fast and precise, his hips angling just right to thrust his cock into you in just the right spot.
“Fuck, baby girl,” he rasps. “Moan for me. Let me hear you.”
There is an internal battle to find your voice, being condemned silent due to the ecstasy that clouds your mind and blocks you from thinking or saying anything reasonable. You swallow hard, all senses focused on the way he’s thrusting into you, picking up speed, the sound of skin against skin and vulgar wet slaps each time he sinks deeper into you. The only way you can describe it is akin to feeling your head being set ablaze and sending it’s flickering flames all over your body and make the dazzling lights of the city blur in with the stars. When he thrusts into you the next time, he is suddenly hitting an angle that has something erupting in you and has you plummeting forward, jaw ripping open. You cry out as you flail forward, your hands slipping from their hold against the window.
“A━Ah, f━fuck,” You hiss. “Jungkook! J━Jungkook━ I’m━”
Your voice is drowned out by another loud moan and the sound is so angelic, so clear, that Jungkook yearns to hear more. He pulls your waist closer to him because there is no way you can find the strength to prop yourself up any longer when it just feels so amazing. His movements become more erratic, messy as he fumbles for your high and his. His warm fingers continue to tug at your ass, your waist, anything to hold you closer to him. But soon even he can’t hold himself together. With the way you clench so tightly around him, he begins sputtering for air. Soon, he has you pressed shamelessly all the way against the window, your cheek laying flat against the cool glass, and his own chest lays taut against your back. His self-indulgent hands snake around your front and push apart your thighs so that he can rub the heel of his palm against your clit. That, mixed with his teeth sinking absentmindedly into your shoulder, and the feeling of his twitching cock buried deep within your core is enough to have you a moaning and whimpering mess.
When he pulls out of you this time, it is to pull you back towards the king-sized bed. In the process, you help him kick off the stubborn remaining material of his pants. He’s only managed to make it as far being seated at the edge of the bed, with you straddling his hips and sitting prettily in his lap, when you eagerly reach down to run his length along your folds. Jungkook is too caught up in the pleasure to even bother to stop you, watching as you grip his shoulders tightly, and ride him in his lap with a reckless abandon. Your actions are desperate, eager. He wraps his arms around your waist, holding you tightly against him, and all you can hear is the vulgar wet sound of his length slipping in and out. It’s disorganized, frantic, desperate, hot, as both of you chase your highs. It hits you first after already being spent from your first orgasm, as if you had just ran straight into a brick wall, and has you completely unprepared. It starts at your core and sparks outward, like electricity flowing through your veins and bones. Your stomach unravels at the feeling, your core tightening around his length and the tight confinement has Jungkook moaning and wheezing for air.
“Jungkook!” You cry. “Fuck!”
You reach your high moments later, coming around his length and coating every inch of him in your sweet release as it leaks out of you, chanting his name over and over again in a beautiful mantra that he finds himself indulging in. The way your high overwhelms your senses has you seeing stars, your head spinning, as your body writhes in his ironclad hold. Jungkook nearly collapses against you at the feeling of your kegel muscles flexing around him, his hands pawing at your back in an attempt to keep a hold on reality. It’s the way your orgasm seems to hit you that has your core pulsating around him, even as you try to come down from your high only to feel the pleasurable ache that is his hard cock buried deep within you. He pulls out then, far too quickly for your liking, but he fumbles to gingerly push you over and you follow suit until you’re laying on your back. He takes no time to position himself back over his entrance, kneeling between your legs, and pushes himself into you once more with a wet squelch. You’re met with a feeling of oversensitivity, but you buck your hips forward, probing him to his release.
“Ah, Jungkook,” You whimper. “Mmm, come for me, baby.”
Your indigent hands tug at his arms, his torso, anything in your reach to have him closer to you and he happily obliges, propping himself up with his elbows. He combs your hair away from your face and kisses your lips tenderly. He pulls his length out of you only to slam his hips back in and rattling you to the bone. You squeak involuntarily, your mouth peppering his jawline and neck with love bites. His thrusts are still quick, desperate almost, as he lusts for his release. The tenderness in your core met with his hard pumps have you sinking your teeth down into his shoulder and he hisses. His hand finds your chin then and he delicately pulls you apart from him before making you face him.
“Keep looking at me, baby girl, okay?” he rasps before cursing under his breath.
You nod meekly, finding solace in gnawing on your lower lip as your eyes make contact with his. The sight has Jungkook nearly coming then and there and how can he not when your hooded eyes are fixated on him, sleepy and innocent, completely fucked out, and you’re sucking hard on your lip. Jungkook has a similar look of exhaustion painted on his face, his eyebrows scrunched together in hard concentration and his lips parting ever so slightly for you to see his gritting teeth. Beads of sweat form on his forehead and yours and suddenly the room is stifling hot, warming your face and body completely. Soon, the oversensitivity you feel soothes into something softer, more pleasurable, and it doesn’t affect you nearly as much. You jut your hips forward then, urging him on and he moans.
“Y/N━ Oh, shit━”
A whimper falls from Jungkook’s lips and it’s so surprising, so hot, that you nearly come again. He’s picking up his pace, snapping his hips messily into yours. He comes only moments later, finally reaching his perfect bliss, and it has him plummeting his hips once more into yours before he’s releasing his hot sticky seed into you. The room is filled with both of your moans, mixed with his breathy groans of your name. His weight gives out beneath him and he falls on top of you though he rocks his hips into yours tiredly to ride out his high until he is finally at peace, boneless from within you. Once he has calmed down from his high, he slumps fully against your chest, his face buried in your collarbone, and the room finally goes silent.
All that fills the air is the sound of both of your wheezing pants and your shrilly beating heart that you are certain even Jungkook can hear. The room is warm, the smell of sex stale in the air, but there is a sheen of pure white elatedness that has you sighing in content. Your fingers rake through Jungkook’s sweaty hair and the silence, with the added warmth of his body laying over yours, almost lulls you to sleep. You’re drifting in and out of consciousness when Jungkook presses his lips to your collarbone and then lifts his head to kiss your own lips. Your eyes flicker open then and you find him smiling down at you and the sight is so radiating, so ardent, that you can’t help but mirror it tiredly. He pulls out of you then and you hiss at the sudden emptiness and the way his milky cum leaks out of you and down your thighs. He stands to his feet, tossing on his underwear, before leaning down to whisper, “I’ll be right back, baby girl, don’t worry.”
He disappears out the room but you don’t know where until he returns a minute later with a damp cloth in hand. He climbs the bed next to you and then he begins to gently wipe at your core with the cloth, making you hum in satisfaction. He finds you smiling at him when he finally looks back up at you and quirks a brow, tilting his head to the side.
“What?” he asks.
“Oh, nothing,” You chuckle lightly, though you’re certain he knows his gentle gestures have your heart bursting with joy. “Come here.”
He does as you say, reclining back on the bed and opening his arms to invite you in. You wiggle closer to his body until you’re pressed up against his side, your head nuzzling into his chest; his own arm wraps around your waist and his other hand lets his fingers run up and down your spine in comforting circles. That, and the sound of his gently thudding heart, is what carries you to sleep that night.
When you awake in the morning, it is to the coarse and wet tongue of Gureum lapping at your cheek. The shimmering sunlight drifts in through Jungkook’s shut blinds and dusts your body in a golden light and heat. It, and Gureum, rouses you back to reality and has you giggling sleepily as you see the small white dog perched up next to you on the bed. Your reach for him to scratch behind his ears as your eyes focus on Jungkook laying just beyond the dog. He’s already awake, gazing up at you with dreary eyes and a soft smile.
“Good morning,” You yawn.
“Morning,” he replies.
He kisses your forehead and you smile once more, folding into him as you hug Gureum close to you. It’s silent again after that and it feels so strange to have everything feel so normal. To be cuddling with Jungkook and his dog in his bed with him after a night of making love, and it is almost as if you were supposed to be there from the very beginning. It was comfortable, it was simple, it was easy ━ and you loved every single second of it. His hand finds yours and your fingers lace together flawlessly and you’re so content with falling back asleep that you nearly miss Jungkook when he speaks next.
“Do you remember what I said to you at the lounge when I first brought up this whole thing?” he asks.
It takes you a moment to think back to that day which seems so far away. His gaze is fixated on your clasped hands but you’re already staring at him.
“The rules?”
He nods slowly. “Do you remember how I said we shouldn’t fall in love?”
You can already sense where the conversation is going and it has your throat swelling, your heart pounding in your chest. “Yes.”
Jungkook finally looks at you, his dark chocolate eyes locking with your own pupils. “Well,” he trails off. “I’m pretty sure I broke that rule because I’m falling in love with you.”
His confession startles you completely, hitting you all at once. You gasp in response, eyes widening in surprise, and you can only hope he isn’t able to hear the frantic beating of your heart.
“When did you break it?”
That is all you can muster, but it doesn’t seem to disappoint Jungkook. He smiles sheepishly, his eyes flickering up to the ceiling.
“Would you call me insane if I said that very night at the lounge?” he asks.
“No,” You reply, catching his attention once more. “Because I’m fairly certain that’s when I started falling for you, too.”
Jungkook’s face begins to light up and it is the first time you have seen him as happily genuine as he is there. His smile radiates the same warmth and glory of the sun and he watches you in a shimmering lovelight as you look away, face flushing, and fingers tracing patterns on his bare chest.
“Can we make another deal?” You ask faintly.
“Of course, anything,” he says.
“Can we━ Can we give us a try?” You inquire.
Jungkook laughs. “You didn’t have to ask. I thought it was already a given that we would give us a try after we said we both have feelings for each other.”
You smile again and look up at him. “But there’s more.”
“What is it, baby girl?”
“I just━” You pause and then push yourself over onto your stomach from beneath the soft sheets. Gureum skips over to the edge of the bed and sits at the very end of your feet. “I want to give us a try without your money getting in the way. I mean, I don’t need you ━ or want you ━ to pay for me to be by your side. I want this to be real and genuine.”
“Of course,” he complies. “This is just you and me now. But, that being said, I’m still obligated to spoil my baby girl rotten every now and then with gifts and there’s nothing you can do to stop me. You still deserve to be treated like a princess.”
You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head at him. You kiss him once more, short and quick, and mumble against his lips a very faint, “Deal. But, on one condition.”
“Go on,” he hums.
“You let me take you out on a coffee date today and let me pay for the both of us this time with my own money,” You say.
Jungkook grins wide and nods enthusiastically. “That sounds perfect. Anything you want, I’ll do.”
You find it hard to look away from Jungkook after that, and you’re certain you find yourself falling even more in love with him then. His golden tan illuminates under the glittering sunlight and you want nothing more than to be in that moment forever where it is just you and Jungkook, Jungkook and you.
“First thing’s first, though,” Jungkook says at long last. “How about we start the morning off right with a round two from last night in the shower right now. What do you say?”
His proposition has you laughing so suddenly that it startles Gureum at the edge of the bed. You lean down again to kiss Jungkook’s irresistible lips. When you part, you catch his mischievous stare and his broad grin and mirror it.
“Well,” You say, “I have always said you like to spoil me rotten.”
“Well,” Jungkook echoes with a chuckle. He shrugs innocently as he speaks next, pressing a chilling kiss to your neck. “Only the best for my baby girl.”
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⟶ All rights reserved to © jungkxook. I do not allow reposting, translating, or any sort of modifying and reuploading of my work. 
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balenciaguks · a month ago
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ROCKSTAR 101 | jjk (m)
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➵ pairing: jjk x f!reader
➵ word count: 8.2k
➵ theme: pwp, established relationship, smut , just pure unadulterated filth
➵ rating: 18+ explicit for mature audiences only
➵ summary: In the words of Christina Aguilera, “there’s nothing more dangerous than a boy with charm” and Jungkook is certainly coated in it.
➵ warnings : JUNGKOOK HAS A FULL SLEEVE - think sowoozoo jungkook in the black sleeve ripped fit • mentions of koo shredding on an electric guitar - im hornee for it • hard dom!jungkook • sub!reader • bratty reader with bratty behaviour • koo is a lil mean bcs he gives no attention • jords’ awful attempt at brat taming • very slight switch jungkook if u squint real hard like put ur reading glasses on and squint • use of derogatory terms - for example slut • jungkook in a pair of bunny ears sksks • sex in the form of - pussy slapping • mouth stuffing • choking • panty sniffing • unprotected sex but oc is on the pill (wrap it b4 u tap it) • oral (m receiving) • face fucking • size kink • belly bulging • bdsm themes - for example use of PINK HEART SHAPED HANDCUFFS  and mention of oc having a safe word • spanking with a leather belt • doggy style • saliva - the return of jords’ spitting kink so expect a few of that • messy sex • messy kissing • missionary bcs koo has pretty eyes n im a sucker for all the eye contact • non-penetrative grinding • failed attempt at edging • multiple orgasms bcs jungkook has staMINA • throatpie (hehe) followed by cum dribbling and multiple creampies
➵ aksglfjah this is the longest one i have ever written n im so happy with how it came out. a big thank you to my baby @kithtaehyung​ for betaing this for me at the last minute. sowoozoo koo really fucked me over , ive been residing there with that tattooed demon since
➵ song rec : rockstar101
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Jungkook was currently sitting on the floor of the lavish hotel suite, one of his many custom-made guitars in hand; a Fender Stratocaster Electric Guitar, to be precise, as he practiced some advanced shredding on the electric instrument.
The guitar had been a gift from you, bright baby blue on the body and black all the way down the neck. The impressive instrument was decorated with black peony flowers with your initials intricately placed inside the bed of flowers in Jungkook’s own handwriting, “because you will always be with me, even when you aren’t,” as he told you when he revealed it to you.
It was hard to not stare at him in moments like this. The way the guitar sits firmly gripped in his lap allows his biceps to protrude right in front of your eyes. His freshly cut hair hangs lazily over one side over his face whilst the other is sitting neatly gelled to the side, showing off his freshly pierced eyebrow piercing. But his hands working up and down over the fretboard are what really grab your attention. His fingers decorated in expensive silver and black rings and an abundance of bracelets adorn his wrists creating a soft tinkling sound as he continues pressing down and strumming away.
Looking up, Jungkook catches your eyes for the briefest of moments before offering you a smug smirk. He’s stupidly hot, and what’s worse is he knows it.
Accentuated by soft candlelight, your complexion illuminates ethereally like a halo around the most beautiful angel Jungkook had ever laid eyes on.
But angels are forbidden to be in love with the Devil.
Leaving your place on the couch, you crawl your way on all fours over to Jungkook and sit yourself on both knees behind him. Trying to get his attention, you place your arm around his neck and rest your hands underneath the hem of his shirt on his chest, giving wet kisses along his shoulders and up his neck.
“___, what are you doing?” Jungkook murmurs under his breath, not in the least bit interested. “Can’t you see that I’m a little busy?”
“Mm, but Koo - I want you,” you whine, your nails digging slightly into his flesh.
“Not now baby, I’m busy,” he answers you. Jungkook doesn’t bear you any attention when he responds to you either, fingers too busy plucking at the strings in front of him.
You sigh in defeat, another attempt at taking his attention failed. “You’re always so busy,” you mutter under your breath as you get up to relocate yourself back onto the bed, hoping Jungkook didn’t catch on to what you said.
Little did you realise, he heard every word but chose to ignore it for the meantime.
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Another ten minutes of sulking and huffing passes by with you still scrolling aimlessly on your phone before you see Jungkook leaning forward to set his beloved guitar in its stand. 
Jungkook gets up from his place on the floor before making his way over towards you, dark eyes drinking you in. His hands come down to the leather of his belt, unclasping the metal and pulling the material through each of the loops and discarding it to the floor at the end of the bed. 
Jungkook stands at full height and looks down at you, humming quietly in an attempt to get your attention. 
You look up, missing his gaze entirely to stare at the new piercing nestled into one of his eyebrows. The silver from the newly placed barbell glimmering in the gentle glow of the fairy lights hung around the wall.
He takes a hold of the top of his acid denim skinny jeans and pops the button open, a small sigh at the small release before slowly pulling the zipper down. With no satisfaction of your attention, Jungkook bends down to reach your eye level and places both hands over the back of the headboard resting behind your back, trapping you in between.
“My eyes are down here, angel,” Jungkook laughs with amusement, as he reaches for your cheeks with his tattooed hand, squishing them between his forefinger and thumb, allowing your mouth to part. Dressed in tight jeans and a fitted tee, he looks good but it’s the leather jacket that ties the outfit together is what made him look insatiable.
He raises one arm behind his head and removes the ripped band t-shirt in one swift motion. Jungkook knows what he’s doing. Knows how to rile you up and turn you on. It’s always the simple things that do it.
In the words of Christina Aguilera, “there's nothing more dangerous than a boy with charm” and Jungkook was certainly coated in it.
With the lack of a shirt, you are able to clearly see the expanse of his upper body. You can clearly tell he has been working out at the gym a lot more often than usual as the deep lines of his abs running down his lower body are prominent in the soft light before dipping into the waistband of his boxers. Little hairs trail down his tummy deliciously. Jungkook intentionally tightens his abdominal muscles, sending you a reminder of just how fucking hot your boyfriend is. Like you need one.
But your favourite part of him? His arms. The way they are covered sporadically in tattoos, from flowers to grungy lyrics curving around his wrists and forearms, every piece of art decorating his tanned skin holding special meanings to him. Eventually all coming together as one at his elbow before the clear saran wrap was tightly hanging off his body.
Earlier, Jungkook had been out all day before the show telling you white lies about finishing touches to the new album before it’s due to be released in the next month or so, only to return to the hotel suite with saran wrap covering the entirety of the muscles. New ink etched onto his skin.
You haven’t left his side since he walked through the door. Eager eyes to find out what designs lingered under the protective layer. To touch and admire the pretty drawings littering his now full arm. Jungkook already had an ego, but this just heightened it tenfold.
Jungkook leans towards your ear, licking and sucking at the skin of your earlobe. “Gonna go for a shower, angel,” he whispers, the devilish smirk still playing on his lips as he lifts himself up and walks away from you.
You watch as he disappears out of the room, eyes trained on his defined shoulders, the muscles flexing as he runs a hand through his fluffy black hair.
Getting up from the bed, you pick up Jungkook’s discarded shirt from the floor. With some time to spare before he finishes his shower, you dig around for your black fluffy bunny ear headband, placing it on your head to move your hair from your face before undressing yourself for the night. You slip on your boyfriend’s shirt over your own frame, giggling lightly at the way it drowns you. The lingering scent of Jungkook’s cologne and fabric softener is a welcomed feeling of comfort as it pierces through your senses.
You turn to look at yourself in the mirror, smirking at the stark contrast of the cute set of ears on your head that stands out against the Metallica shirt. Twisting your body, you manage to view a peak of black lace showing at the swell of your ass. If Jungkook wants to play, you can too.
In the midst of your daydream, Jungkook appears behind you, his large warm hands wrapping around your waist, startling you briefly with his presence. You stare at him through the mirror, taking in how breathtakingly beautiful he is. 
Jungkook presses a kiss to your cheek, smiling as he lingers for a moment. You sigh and lean back into his touch, lacing your fingers with his that rested on your stomach. “You look so cute with those ears on, bunny,” he comments, nuzzling his nose into your neck, breathing in the fruity perfume that is left on your skin from the day.
You make eye contact with Jungkook through the mirror as you admire how he towers over you with his arms still wrapped around your frame like he was protecting you from the world. You smile at just how happy you are. How did you end up so lucky as to bag a man like Jungkook?
Then it came to you. Remembering how not even twenty minutes ago, your idiot boyfriend rejected your affection for attention. You remove yourself from his embrace and roll your eyes as you bend down to pick up the basket of skin care products, conveniently pressing your ass against Jungkook’s cock before you strut back over to your side of the hotel bed.
Jungkook groans in frustration at your actions before witnessing you sit on the bed with your back facing him, feigning ignorance to your ministrations. “Baby?” Jungkook tries.
“Yes, Jungkook?” you turn your head to look at him for the briefest minute, the look on his face one of disbelief; how you could just tease him like that and act as if nothing had happened.
“Don’t ‘yes, Jungkook’ me, what was that for?” Jungkook is annoyed by your behaviour.
“What was what for?” you ask demurely, keeping up the act.
“___, don’t start.”
At this, you had to turn your head to conceal the smile fighting its way to your lips. You look at him through the small compact mirror in your hands, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just busy doing my night routine,” you childishly rebuttal, putting the emphasis on the word busy knowing Jungkook will figure out exactly where this attitude is coming from. 
Following your game, Jungkook nods his head and climbs onto the bed behind you “Stop acting like a brat, baby,” he breathes into your neck before planting three small kitten licks at the junction between your neck and shoulder.
“I don’t think I’m being a brat, I’m just busy,” you hum. 
You feel the bed dip as Jungkook sits, giving himself enough space to manspread out in front of you. He looks dangerously good in his outfit. Your favourite pair of his loose black tracksuit pants that cuffed at the ankles hanging low on his hips evidently showing a lack of underwear underneath judging by the prominent outline of his cock. 
Jungkook hasn’t bothered to put another shirt on, allowing your eyes to graciously eat up his frame in front of you. Wet droplets are running down from his still wet hair and onto the taut muscles of his chest and stomach.
Jungkook takes hold of your ankles and places them over his thighs, running his hand up and down creating a trail of goose bumps building a home on your legs.
“You look really cute like this, you know.” Jungkook smiles at you whilst pointing at the bunny ear headband on the crown of your head, trying to change the conversation. 
An idea in your head has your mind racing. You settle yourself in your boyfriend's lap, legs either side of his tiny waist, careful to sit directly above his cock, not giving in to him by giving him what he’s been looking for. You stifle a small laugh at your egotistical boyfriend before taking the headband off your head and placing it on his own. “There,” you giggle.
You lean back ever so slightly, taking in the full look of Jungkook. His shoulders are broad and define the deep crevices of his clavicles wonderfully. The saran wrap is now long forgotten from his arm, giving you your first full look at the new full sleeve showing off scattered drawings, shaded shapes, words and numerals on his skin all etched and linked together so beautifully. His artist had truly outdone themselves this time around. Even with a pair of fluffy animal ears on his head, nothing will make him look ridiculous.
You rubbed his arm and pouted, “Koo.”
You nuzzle your head into the side of his neck, biting softly into his skin, his arms on your hips tightening, signifying you had hit his sweet spot. You continue to suckle on his honey skin, littering it with pieces of your own ruby stained art. “Are you in the mood yet?” You whisper into his neck, grinding your panty covered pussy over his hardening length.
Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut, basking in the feeling of your tongue and teeth nipping and grazing at his throat. He’ll give you this one time - just to test how far you’ll go with this.
“You’ll regret this.”
You ignore him, your pace quickening up.
Jungkook sighs heavily. “___, I’m warning you.”
“Don’t want to stop."
You reach your hand down to move the fabric of your underwear to the side, the feel of Jungkook's hard heavy cock stiffening through the fabric of his sweats giving you the smallest amount of friction to your bare clit. Rutting yourself against him faster but it just isn’t enough to fully get you there.
In your state of euphoric concentration, you move your fingers over your clit and rub small circles over your sensitive nerves. Your breathy moans filled the dimly lit bedroom. “Oh fuck, fuck, oh my god, shit you look so good, Kook.”
Staring down at where you were pressing yourself on your boyfriend, you begin working your fingers on your clit, bringing the other down and inserting two fingers deep inside of you.
Jungkook’s jaw is firmly locked in place, the anger radiating off him at your blatant disobedience and bratty behaviour.
Sliding in and out, back and forth, you continue to pleasure yourself on top of your boyfriend, the sight of him laying there with your pair of stupid rabbit ear headband on his head, blending in with his newly short black hair a true fucking sight for sore eyes.
Spreading your legs further as you pumped your fingers in and out, you locked eyes with him as you whined, “I’m gonna cum, Jungko-”
Jungkook has had enough, snapping in a fit of blinding horny rage. Jungkook grips at your sides and rolls you over, planting you firmly on the bed, grabbing your wrists and pulling you up the bed, ruining your moment of bliss.
He removes himself off the bed and goes over to his packed case across the room. Sensing you moving, he turns back. "Fucking stay," he growls.
You stay put as instructed. The first one you followed all night. Eyeing Jungkook from the side, you see him raking through the clutter for something.
Jungkook turns round and makes his way back over to the bed and climbs back over you, his turn to straddle you. "Arms up, princess."
You lift your arms up over your head, deciding best to do as he asks. Jungkook, not pleased with where you place your arms, drags them up and through the bars of the headboard, allowing you to grip onto the cool metal. A contrast to your searing hot skin.
Jungkook reaches behind him and pulls out what he was going through all the effort to find.
Bright pink heart shaped handcuffs. 
You giggled loudly with amusement only resulting in pissing Jungkook off more.
“Looks like I’m going to have to teach you a lesson. Remind you how to fucking behave, hm? Put you in your place,” Jungkook snarls as he wraps the metal around each wrist and locks you to the bed. He gives a rough tug at your restrained wrists, a loud yelp tearing from your throat. Finishing with his task, he leans back to admire his work. You’re purring, a vocal acknowledgment to how much you love being restrained.
Jungkook stared down at you directly. “Safe word?”
“Red,” you answered confidently.
“Do you remember your signals?”
“Green for good, amber for slow down, red for stop,” you respond, this being second nature to you now.
“And?”
“Two taps for warning, three taps for I need a minute, four taps for stop.”
He removes himself from straddling your waist and kneels at the bottom of the comforter. 
“Good girl. Now, where do we start with you,” he questions, more to himself more than anyone else. He gives a light slap to your pussy, looking for any reaction he can gather from you.
You yelp in sensitivity, your clit still hyper sensitive after being torn from the brink of your orgasm.
“Huh, well would you look at that; still noisy it seems. Let’s fix that,” Jungkook states. Not a moment later, Jungkook is tearing the lace material from your ass, the sound resonating throughout the room, before he lets the sodden panties dangle by his pointer finger, watching it swing slowly back and forth in his grasp. You watch on in shock at the action, not daring making a sound.
“Fuck, you’re wet without me even touching you,” he moans as he begins to fist your underwear tight in his grasp and brings it up to his nose, giving them a long sniff. Your heady arousal painting the material. On one hand, Jungkook can’t get enough of your scent, yet on the other, he’s irritated by how wet you get just from pissing him off. He glances down, watching you spread your legs further for him, seeing your sweet juices coat the expansion of your glistening thighs.
 “Fucking stupid slut only wants to be fucked, huh? Well, if you’re not going to listen to simple instructions and keep quiet when told, we may as well find some other use for your pretty little mouth, isn’t that right? Open.”
Doing as you’re told, you open your mouth as wide as you can, allowing Jungkook to stuff your mouth full with the ripped lace material. The taste of your heady arousal prominent on the cloth.
Leaning close to your ear, Jungkook’s hot breath fans over your skin as he whispers, “What makes you think you even deserve my cock tonight, sweetheart?” Jungkook questioned, giving each of your tits a harsh slap making you whimper out in pleasure.
Your skin feels hot at his touch as he leans down and takes a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue and sucking on the hardened bud as he kneads the other in his veiny hands causing you to harshly buck your hips and grind into him. Satisfied, he swaps, and gives the other tit the same treatment.
“Mghgmhg,” you moan through your full mouth as his teeth graze over your nipple. Jungkook pulls away from your tits to sit back on his knees and gaze at your glistening pussy.
As Jungkook cups your warm cunt in his palm, feeling the heat radiate from your core, you gasp at the contrast between the warmth of the pads of his appendages and the coolness of the multitude of rings that decorate his long fingers as he diligently swipes two fingers from your hole to your clit and gathers as much as your slick before bringing it up to your lips.
Jungkook removes the panties from your mouth, sodden with a mixture of arousal and spit. “Clean them, filthy girl.” You do as he tells you and open your mouth, your tongue darting out and wiggling back and forth in anticipation for his fingers. He slides both fingers in and pushes them down your throat. Your lips wrap around his digits as your tongue licks and sucks the salty essence from his fingers. You gag around his fingers as he keeps them lodged in your throat.
Moans spill through your lips as you continue to suck your slick from him. Hastily removing himself from your mouth, Jungkook plunges them back into you, starting up at a rapid pace, curling deep inside you with every thrust of his digits in your sodden pussy. The squelching sounds are borderline obscene and pornographic but motivate him to continue.
“You wanna come on my hand? Come on then, I want you to fucking come,” he grits out as his eyes only darken with molten lust, stretching you further with a third finger and adding his thumb to rub circles on your sensitive clit. 
Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as your walls clench around him signalling your near release as you pull at your restraints, the pink cuffs clinking against the metal as the grooves of the cuffs bite at the skin of your wrists.
Jungkook watches you as he increases the pace of his fingers in your tight, wet pussy, spitting on your face and smearing it with his other hand across your face. 
His words echo in your head as you try to conjure up a response but with the brutal pace of his fingers inside you relentlessly fucking you closer to your own orgasm, your eyes roll back to the back of the head as you begin to see stars and not a single coherent thought comes to mind.
“Fuck yes, come on then __, going to make you come so hard.”
Your restrained hands thrash around before they find the cool metal bars and grip on for dear life as your body finally finds release and trembles at the force of your orgasm.
“Look at you, fuck you’re so hot, keep going,” Jungkook moans. He doesn’t relent and keeps up the aggressive force of his digits in and out of your pussy, forcing the cum of your climax to coat his hands right down to his wrists.
“J-Ju-kook I-,'' you whimper as your eyes fill with tears.
“You wanted to act like a big girl, so act like a big girl and come again.”
Your pussy is clenching repetitively over your boyfriend’s fingers as your clit pulses with overstimulation. You squeeze your eyes shut as you feel another oncoming orgasm.
“Shit, shit Jungkook, please,” you scream as this one hits you harder than the last. Your head turns to its side into the pillow as Jungkook removes his fingers in time to watch your climax dribble out of you with force, coating your thighs and the bedsheets below you.
“Holy shit, __,” Jungkook gasps, “That was fucking hot.” He pushes his fingers into your mouth again as he slightly instructs you to suck again. 
“Oh baby, you gonna do that with my cock? You wanna suck my cock like that?” Jungkook can’t take his eyes off you. Arousal seeping from your cunt as you stare up at his dark eyes, the silver piercing catching the light.
You nod your head, chest heaving as you breathe through your nose to take in as much air into your burning lungs but pliant as always as you wait for his next move.
Satisfied with your sucking, he pulls his digits out your mouth and holds them up above your face. His fingers are coated in your saliva as it begins to drip down to your face. Again, Jungkook brings his hand down and drags his wet fingers across your face, coating your cheeks. He squeezes your cheeks together, protruding your pout. “Mm, is that mouth ready to get filled with my cum, pretty girl?”
You nod.
“Colour?”
“Green.”
Jungkook removes himself from your body after your confirmation and lightly pushes your face to the side. Standing at the foot of the bed at full height, he watches over you and the way your chest rises and falls with each breath you take, clearly affected by his actions. The sound of your heart shaped restraints rattling against the bedposts filling the room as he begins pulling his pants off and kicking them away, leaving him in his tight black boxers.
The orange of the soft lighting of the bedroom warms his skin in the most beautiful hue of golden brown - the kind of glow you would be lucky to witness at the break of dawn. Mesmerising and easily drawing you in.
Jungkook bites his lip when he takes the sight of you bound to your shared bed and legs spread open. Your sticky wetness coating your thighs like a second skin; an open invitation to your boyfriend. He brings his palm down and cups his hard cock over his boxers, palming himself roughly. The outline of his cock grows harder by every passing moment.
Jungkook releases a heavy moan from deep within his chest. His eyes flutter shut and head rolls back as his thumb rolls over the dark wet patch over the sensitive head of his confined cock. “Look at me,” he orders.
Jungkook gives you a lazy smirk as he makes his way over to the side of the bed. He leans down over you and gathers an abundance of pillows and carefully places them behind your head, allowing your neck to sit slightly raised as your wrists are still bound.
Satisfied with his work, the bed dips as Jungkook hovers above you. Leaning down, he captures your jaw in his palm and kisses you hard. He’s not gentle in his kisses, his tongue quickly swiping across your lower lip for entry. You moan at the contact, a quick gasp leaving your lips giving Jungkook enough time to slide his tongue in hungirly. The tip of your tongue traces along the surface of his, and you moan at the taste of him - peppermint and an after taste from the bourbon he indulged in earlier in the night.
The kiss is messy, a battle between tongues and teeth as you both strive to take control of the kiss. Jungkook pulls away slightly, tugging your lower lip in between his teeth and pulls gently. Another moan passing through your lips.
Once he pulls away completely, he manoeuvres himself back onto his knees, giving you the opportunity to take him in entirely. His hair starting to dampen, chest muscles and hard abs glowing with perspiration. He moves his boxers low enough for you to take in the view of his ab muscles as he flexes in front of you but not low enough for you to see anything else.
Jungkook sees the pout on your face and knows exactly why it’s there. He gives off a devilish laugh as he removes his boxers entirely this time and kicks them to the side of the room. His cock slaps against his stomach, standing proudly against his tummy falling just short under his belly button.
His cock was beautiful to say the least. Veins running up and down the underside, the prettiest pink shade contrasting with the angry red at his tip. Precum glossing over the head in all its glory.
He drags his cock over your cheeks back and forth, mixing it with the dry saliva he left there moments ago, making sure to run it over your pouty lips and coating them in his salty precum.
He shoves his cock on your mouth without any warning just allowing the tip to sit on your flushed parted lips.
“Kiss it.”
You lean forward and pepper little kisses along the tip, tasting the salty precum on your lips watching it harden impossibly more. You pay extra attention to the underside of his shaft, knowing how much of a sensitive spot that is for him as you glance up into his dark eyes and give a bratty smirk.
His cum has a bitterness to it, but the longer your mouth is wrapped around his cock, the more the bitter dissolves into a sweetness that takes over your senses.
Satisfied with your compliant behaviour, Jungkook moves closer to you and slips the tip inside your mouth. "Show me — show me how much you enjoy sucking cock," Jungkook grunts and gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail in his hands, careful to keep the rabbit ears on and tugs you forward giving you permission to suck.
Taking his head into your mouth again, you slowly suck the tip, licking up the precum that drips out his slit. You moan loudly, signalling your appreciation to Jungkook for feeding you more of his cock. 
With no warning, Jungkook slides his cock further down your throat until your nose is firmly pressed against his pubic bone. His balls touch your chin as your saliva coats his cock thickly before Jungkook stills, momentarily stopping the airflow to your lungs.
“You’re my good little bunny, right?” he questions as he forces your head down. You look into his eyes and nod for him. “Bunnies like you do as they’re fucking told, huh?”
Your eyes allow the tears to fall as you gag loudly. The loss of oxygen makes you lightheaded in the best possible way. Jungkook withdraws himself from your mouth, a thick string of spit and precum connecting you both together, allowing you a quick breath into your burning lungs before quickly shoving himself back down the column of your throat. 
“Fuck, you look even prettier with my cock stuffed in your mouth.”
Lips slick and swollen, you moan around his thick cock; the vibrations you create make the hair on his skin rise as he nears his orgasm.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” Jungkook grits as he takes a fist of your hair and pushes your head back and forth forcefully of his cock. It’s Jungkook this time who moans as he repeatedly shoves himself deep inside your throat until you can’t take any more of his length. You want to be able to touch him, to feel his skin under your fingertips, to feel the hair on his skin rise, to tug his hair. 
“Fuck, oh fuck, shit,” Jungkook stills your head and relentlessly thrusts himself in and out of your tight throat like his own personal cocksleeve a few more times before finally hitting his release.
His balls tighten up, and a deep, throaty moan leaves his mouth as he stills deep in your throat. Hot, sticky ropes spurt down your throat without warning. There is a never ending stream of cum as your mouth starts to become full of both his cock and cum. 
Jungkook's hair sticks to his sweaty forehead as he looks down at your fucked out face as he pulls his length out of your mouth slowly, careful not to release the messy white substance from your mouth.
He leans back down on the bed, his arms propping up his weight. “Let me see,” he smirks.
You open your mouth at his request, a puddle of thick hot cum and saliva sitting in your mouth.
“Tongue out, baby.”
Your tongue dips out of your mouth as requested, feeling the messy mixture drip down to your chin and neck, decorating the skin in a glistening messy concoction.
“Such a filthy girl, fuck, I’m going to get hard again just looking at you like this,” Jungkook laughs. “Colour?”
You swallow the remaining mixture in your mouth. “Green,” you smile. Voice hoarse with the rough fucking your throat just received.
Jungkook looks at your bound state; your forehead is glossly with sweat and your skin flush red. Your cheeks are wet from your tears as a mixture of cum and saliva coats your chin and chest. Messy. Just the way you both like it.
“Wanna kiss, though,” you whine out.
Heat washes over you as Jungkook lowers his head and nudges his nose against yours before kissing you passionately, switching between biting and sucking on your lower lip as his hips roll slowly against your core, only separating when the need for air burns in both of your lungs. You gasp as you realise he’s still semi-hard as he grinds his bare cock over your clothed pussy.
Removing himself from you, he grabs the unlock key from the night stand and proceeds to unlock the set of cuffs, kissing each wrists with his soft pillowy lips, a juxtaposition to his rough ministrations just moments ago. 
A smile tugged your cheeks at his tender touches, a light blush dusting your cheeks following. It was one of the ways you would silently let Jungkook know you were fine, and to continue with his dominant persona.
“What do you want to do to me, right now,” you chirp up, feeling bold enough to meddle with him again.
“Wanna ruin you. You’re mine and only mine,” he recites as he silences your moans with the sloppy crash of his lips against yours, dipping his head down to kiss you in a messy, passionate kiss filled with love, lust and utter adoration for you. Jungkook growls as he tastes the remnants of himself on your tongue.
Breaking the kiss, Jungkook manoeuvres his hands underneath your thighs and pulls you down to him on the bed. He slides in between your open legs and wraps your legs around his waist. “Open your mouth like the pretty slut you are,” he smiles.
You follow his instructions and part your lips, whining when he gathers his saliva and spits in your mouth, the string of saliva hanging between the two of you as he chases it down and crashes his lips back against yours, forcing his tongue in immediately. It is fucking hot when he kisses this way. The lewd sound is filthy, a fresh stream of slick running down your folds.
Jungkook pins both your wrists above your head with one hand and leans his lower half against your cunt. You whine in protest as Jungkook teases you with his movements as he sets a languid pace of rubbing his cock against your swollen clit. “You fucking love this… So fucking wet I could slide in with no resistance. Is that what you want?” Jungkook hisses as he starts to pick up the pace.
Your breath is caught in your throat as you writhe and tremble under Jungkook, the fluid motion of his thrusts over your clit beginning to be too much. Your hands grip the pillows as your back arches at the searing hot pleasure taking over and burning into your skin. All your concentration is on Jungkook’s cock as you start to feel light headed as he brings you towards your orgasm.
“Oh god, I’m going to fucking cum,” you grit, the fire in your abdomen becoming too much.
“Hold it,” Jungkook growls, rutting harder over your pussy.
“J-jungk-kook, I-I can’t,” you cry, a fresh batch of tears finding home on your lash line.
“I. Said. Hold. It.”
Screaming, your body rejects his command as your gut tightens, the pressure in your abdomen becoming too much as you climax for the third time.
Jungkook leans back from you in silence and stares you down with fury at your disobedience.
“I told you not to come yet. Look at this filthy mess,” he barks as he crosses his arms over his chest.
“I-I’m s-sorry. J-jungkook, I’m so sorry.”
Jungkook lets out a snarl from deep within his chest, “You know what happens to disobedient sluts? They get punished.”
Your head falls to the side in shame away from Jungkook’s piercing stare as you nod in agreement. Jungkook stands at full height at the end of the bed and grasps both your ankles and tugs your body towards him and swiftly turns you over, instructing you to get on all fours, turning his own back to pick up his discarded belt from earlier.
You know the rules already. Face down, ass up. 
A hand brushes over your ass as his fingernails occasionally sink into your plush skin and pulls at your cheeks, "Wanna hear you, alright?" You moan in agreement at his words. 
Spreading your thighs apart, Jungkook's hand slips in between your thighs from behind and gently carcasses your folds, playing with your clit teasingly, captivated by the way your pussy clenches over nothing just by the small brushes of the pads of his rough fingertips. "I love you," he whispers.
The belt makes its first contact with your skin and you let your eyes flutter closed and a broken moan leaves your lips.
You heard Jungkook suck in a breath through his teeth and chuckle a little as he lets the belt crack against your ass, watching ruby red welts appear on your skin, Jungkook admires you all the more. “You know…” he starts, as he unfolds the expensive leather from his hands, taking a break and lets his hands dip back into your pussy. You groan at the slippery mess in your cunt, "You have the prettiest…" He stops again to bend down and lick a broad strip over your delicate pussy, spitting into your folds once more and watches as runs in between your folds and mixes with your juices. "...Prettiest pussy. So fucking beautiful," Jungkook goes back to teasing your clit and listening to you moan and whimper, a silent ask for more.
Jungkgood chuckles lowly at your wants, deciding not to indulge you. "Ah ah, pretty girl," he smiles, letting the belt meet your ass a few more times.
"Such a good girl for me," he snorts in amusement at how well you take your punishments. 
Your breathing is erratic as he delivers the last spank to your ass, turning your head to look at your boyfriend behind you. His honey skin glistening with sweat from above you in the soft light.
His hands are back on your meaty flesh as he tentatively soothes the red welts and leans his face down to press soft kisses into the soft flesh. "You always get so wet when I spank you. It's meant to be a punishment but I think you enjoy it too much, hm," Jungkook asks rhetorically, "I think you act like a pushy brat on purpose," you can hear the smile in his statement before he gathers a glob of saliva in his mouth and spits onto your cunt. 
"Please, w-want you," you mewl, "Fill me up." 
Jungkook growls at your words, at how you always get what you want yet still want more, how you're just so insatiable from him. Only him. He grabs the base of his shaft and covers himself in your slick, coating his cock before he begins sinking into your entrance in one fluid motion. 
"How come I fuck you all the fucking time yet every time you're always this fucking tight, bunny," Jungkook groans, voice laced in lust and arousal. Your mouth hangs open at the tight squeeze of his girthy cock inside your velvet walls, drooling into the sheets as you ball up the duvet beneath you in your fists.
"You're always so big, Koo," the nickname slips out nonchalantly as your eyes roll back in the pleasure of it all. You will never get enough of his cock as the tip presses against your cervix as he bottoms out completely. 
You give an experimental clench around his cock and hear him mewl from behind you. Jungkook pulls out from behind you until just his tip is nestled into you before sinking back into you going as deep as he possibly can. You let out a small shriek at the motion as he pulls himself back out of your quivering hole and pushes back in, in another fluid motion. 
“Oh fuck, you always take my cock so well, your tight little pussy was made to be ravished by my fat cock, isn't that right? I love getting my dick wet by such a pretty pussy,” Jungkook moans, hands finding your waist and grips tight enough to leave colourful speckled bruises on your hips before stopping his movements altogether, keeping the tip snug inside as he uses his hold on your waist to pull you down on his cock instead, fucking yourself onto him. Tears gather in your eyes and threaten to spill over the edge at the pleasured powerful movements of your hips on his cock. 
"I-I'm gonna come," you shriek, allowing the tears to fall onto your sodden cheeks. 
"Yeah? Go on then, if you want to be a slut so bad, come all over my thick cock," Jungkook snarls as he pulls you faster and harder onto him, the sounds of skin slapping filling the room increasing as he piledrives you to completion. 
Your pussy flutters in pleasure of it all as you clench over and over onto his cock, feeling your orgasm wash over you, pulling you into a euphoric state of bliss. Perspiration gathers on the skin of your neck and forehead at the force of your climax.
However, above you Jungkook doesnt relent in his actions as he plants both his hands in your hair at the nape of your neck, gathering the strands in two tight makeshift ponytails and pulls you flushed against his chest and continues to fuck you through your orgasm.
"J-jungkook, 'm s-sensitive." 
"Do you want to use your safe word?" 
You let your head fall back against his shoulder, "No,” Turning your head towards Jungkook, you seal your confirmation with a heated and messy wet kiss. 
Grunting from behind you, you hear Jungkook gather more spit in his mouth and let the liquid dribble down into your mouth. "Swallow."
And so you did with no argument.
“Fuck - fuck,” Jungkook groans out as he impales his cock as deep as he can into you, his balls tightening as he watches your meaty ass ripple with every thrust he gives you. "Come, gonna cum," he stutters. The feeling of you cinched around his cock bringing him closer to the edge.
Jungkook grunts as he gives a few more ruts of his hips, feeling your pussy full with the warmth of his seed filling you up from inside. Jungkook doesn't stop fucking himself into you, milking himself with your pussy as you mewl in pleasure at his cum being thrusted into you.
Jungkook pulls out of you and flips you onto your back. You look down between you and see that his cock is still hard. How much stamina did this man have?
Jungkook looks like sin above you with his fucked out expression painted across his face as he fists his cock in one hand, making sure to curl his thumb around his sensitive tip. "One more yeah, you can give me one more?"
Hovering over you, he paws at the head band that is centimetres from falling off your head, fixing it back into place. Jungkook leans his face close to yours and presses a sweet kiss to your lips. Bringing your hand to the nape of his neck, you tug at the roots, deepening the kiss Jungkook pulls back and catches his breath. He brushes his thumb over your lip, dragging it and letting it go with a snap. You pull him back down and push your tongue into his mouth, kissing feverishly, hard and passionately. "One more," you whisper into the kiss. 
Jungkook releases a deep groan as he sinks his cock back in with ease, moaning when his thrusts speed up into a ruthless pace. The squelching of your cum, his spit and skin slapping mixed with your harmonious moans fill the room.
"Jungkook, you feel so good, keep going," you purr. Jungkook without missing a beat, fucks you harder and faster. You wrap your hands over his back and dig your nails into his sweat drenched creamy skin. Your moans grow in volume and intensity, letting Jungkook know just how good he makes you feel.
Jungkook takes one of your legs and places it over his shoulder, the change in angle allowing him to fuck deeper into you. Looking down at your tummy, Jungkook can see the outline of his thick cock lodged inside of you. “Such a good girl,” he praises. Hand pressing down on the bulge. “You’re mine. No one else can fuck you this good You're mine. Just remember that,” he mewls, emphasising his words with forceful thrusts.
Screaming, "I'm yours, I'm yours Kook - fuck, I love you." Your eyes let more tears go at the sheer force of your boyfriend's shaft obliterating your pussy.
Jungkook brings his hand down to your throat and curls his dings around your oesophagus, squeezing lightly on the sides. 
A dry sob leaves your mouth and your eyes rolling to the back of your head, "J-Jungkook, fuck, fuck, fuck."
His hand wraps tighter around your throat, not enough to hurt but just enough to constrict the oxygen into your lungs. Feeling the coolness of his rings dig into the searing skin of your neck was a welcomed feeling. His actions matched by his powerful ruts into your cunt mixed with the sounds of sweat soaked skin slapping against each other filling the room was bringing you closer to your third climax of the night. Your pussy involuntarily contracts around his cock. "Jungkook, g-gonna, gonna c-cum."
He gives a few vigorous thrusts before he focuses his attention on rubbing figures of eight on your clit, knowing that will help to get you there faster, desperate to get off himself. "Look at your tiny fucking cunt taking my cock. Still so tight, I don't get it," he grunts out with no mercy, "Doesn't matter how often I fuck you, you're. Still. So. Tight." 
Jungkook moves your leg off his shoulder and wraps them both around his waist. He grips your hips tightly, pulls you toward him and jackhammers you onto his cock, every stroke brings you towards the precipice of euphoric bliss. The feeling of his pulsating cock plunging into your seeping core has your hips bucking wildly. His teeth find your neck and he bites you hard enough to make you yelp.
Without warning, your third orgasm washes over you causing your body to still, in a state of bliss. There isn't a single coherent word that manages to fall from your lips, only the sounds of screams, cries and garbled incoherent sounds. Your walls constrict around Jungkook's shaft as he grunts on top of you. 
"Fuck yes, that's it, look at you. So fucking beautiful," he swears and fucks into you harder, "Gonna make me cum too, baby." Jungkook impales himself a few more times, the sight of him pumping in you like this is too much. He is fucking you as if you were just a doll to use for his own pleasure yet all you can do is take his cock in this position. He bites his bottom lip as he fucks you, some of his hair falling in front of his face. He looks delicious.
Jungkook releases an animalistic snarl from deep within his chest as he buries his thick, throbbing hard cock into you as he comes — warm ropes and ropes spurt from his pulsing cock, filling you up, and that sends you over the edge once again.
You come just as violently as the last, clamping down on Jungkook's cock, milking him through his release as he groans at the feeling. You can feel yourself squirt a tiny bit as he keeps pressing into you. 
Feeling his balls emptying and filling up your pussy with his warm load puts a smile on your face. You rock against him, both of you pant and groan together as you bask in your orgasmic state together.
Laughing, Jungkook dips his head into your shoulder and presses delicate kisses up your neck, on your cheek and lastly to your lip. He looks down at your tummy and giggles at the way it bloats, filled with cum.
Jungkook pulls out of you, the feeling of his cum dribbling out your spent cunt is warm and sticky. He pulls your bunny ears off your head and pulls you down to him by the waist and drops down next to you, pressing your head to his chest. Together, the two of you lay there trying to catch your breath not realising how warm and sweaty you were from all the fucking.
"Are you — are you okay?" Jungkook giggles as he kisses the top of your head. 
You have to try to get your mind and body working again to reply. The feeling of being fucked so hard has your entire body shut down. All that leaves your mouth is strange noises. They could have been words but probably not.
Pulling the comforter over both your bare bodies, you wrap your arm around Jungkook, pulling him closer. He smiles brightly, relief evident on his face as you listen to his heart beat slow to its regular rate. "You're too good to me, Koo." 
Jungkook intertwines your fingers with his own to bring them up to his lips and kiss your hand, "No, you're too good to me.. bunny," he winks.
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borathae · a month ago
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“Jungkook was sent by the Ravens of the Black Forest to kill the Queen of the Night Queendom. He hadn’t expected to find love when he climbed the high walls of the Queen’s castle and pressed a sharp blade against her throat.” 
Pairing: Bandit!Jungkook x Queen!Reader
Genre: Fantasy, e2l!AU, Smut, Romance
Warnings: LOTS of plot & worldbuilding omgmg, an assassination attempt, gags, ropes as bondages, switch!Jungkook, domish!Reader, knife play, blood play if you squint, choking, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, rough (angry) sex, crying kink ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ˡᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵉ ʰᵒⁿᵉˢᵗ ᶦᵗ'ˢ ᵐᵉ, mutual striptease, food play in the form of feeding (bruh it’s hot), they share a bath all nakedy 👀, Kook is such an angry boy in the beginning, lmao this whole story is sending me down a spiral tbfh
Wordcount: 19.9k
a/n: This is without doubt one of my fave stories I have written so far. I love the world I created so much. And yes this takes place in the same universe Unveiled takes place. I hope you guys enjoy reading it just as much as I did writing it! 💜 also I know it’s long, but please give it a chance, it’s really good :(
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A cold blade against your throat wakes you. Your reaction is instant. You were prepared, waiting impatiently for the day to come. 
Your murderer is beneath you in an instance. His own blade is pressed right under his eye, your fingers have a tight grasp on his throat. 
He wiggles and growls, dark eyes glued to your face.
"Uh-hu", you warn, pressing the blade tighter to his skin. 
He grunts and eyes his shiny demise. 
"Fuck", he presses out, forsaking his fight against you. 
"Better." 
You tilt his head up, nails bruising his skin.
"Now tell me. Who could be so reckless to attack me in my bedchambers?"
"You have to kill me before I talk", he spits. 
You study him. Strong body with muscles that strain against his dark clothes. Pretty face with a chiseled jaw and soft cheeks, there is dirt and sweat on his skin. He is panting heavily, chapped lips parted. His nails are dirty and broken. That means he climbed up your walls. Logical. Your castle's wolves would have found him otherwise. Clever. Means he knew the grounds and your customs. 
"You climbed. Impressive. That would have been a high fall had you slipped. Fatal even." 
He growls and sits up, getting himself pressed down again. 
"It would have been worth it", he spits.
He is angry and filled with hate. It is directed at you. Interesting. People don’t normally look at you with such hatred. Which can only mean one thing.
"Ah!" he gasps, back arching in pain. 
You slashed through his shirt, cutting his skin in the process. He wiggles, finally showing you his strength. But you pin him down by his throat easily, ripping the shirt open with one hand. 
"I knew it." 
He snarls angrily, swallowing heavily because breathing is becoming terribly difficult. 
"You are one of them", you say, studying the raven tattoo on his right pec, "The Ravens of the Black Forest." 
He growls and fights harder. You figured him out. 
"Will you stop fighting against me?" you hiss, finally putting real pressure on his throat.
His eyes widen, fingers clasping your wrist. 
"Tell me your name." 
"Never", he chokes out. 
You squeeze harder, making his eyelids flutter. 
"You'd rather die than tell me your name? Your conviction is remarkable."
His body twitches, his lips opening and closing in search of air. You laugh. 
"Remarkable really. Such devotion could be useful. Also…" 
You drag the knife over his cheek softly.
"...it would be a waste to kill such a pretty face." 
You release his throat. He coughs and wheezes. 
"There, there you'll live. It will bruise but you will live", you soothe him, patting his chest.
He calms down slowly, staring at you with widened eyes. 
"Why would you spare me?" 
"Because I am not the monster you think me to be." 
He tries to sit up. 
"Stay", you order, pressing the blade right against his throat. 
He falls down on the mattress, licking over his lips nervously. 
"That's better", you smile, "now, I’ll give you one last chance to tell me your name before I call in my warriors and tell them to throw you into a cell to rot." 
"Call them", he hisses. 
You lower your eyes in anger. 
"Valkeria! Auralia!" you call them, "your silence won’t save you stranger", you tell him. 
"My Queen you called upon us", Valkeria asks, grasping her sword. 
"A confused bird has found its way into my bedchamber. Take him back to his cage." 
"Yes my Queen." 
The stranger leaves with an impressive struggle. Your warriors have much to do. 
"You won’t get through with this! You hear me? They will come looking for me!" he screams. 
"Gag him too, he is oh so noisy and I am trying to sleep." 
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The torches flicker, casting deep shadows on the stone walls. His steps echo, giving off the impression that at least three people were being dragged over the floor. He gave up fighting one night ago when all it brought him was a cut across his stomach. It stopped bleeding this morning, but still burned. 
"Walk, will you?" the Queen's warrior tells him, tugging at his aching arm. 
"If I was the Queen, I would have fed him to Woltron three nights ago", the second warrior, who was dragging him, says. 
"Don't let Her hear you." 
"I don't care. She is too merciful with his people." 
He could feel her iron nails dig into his arm at the mention of his people. She hated him and wanted him dead. Just like he hated them and wanted them dead. 
"Valkeria please lower your voice." 
"Don't forbid my words. You know how it ended last time. Ymir is still dead and he is still on the run." 
At that he felt his ears twitch in attention. Is he, they are talking about, who he thinks he is? But that wouldn’t make sense, he never returned home. They must be talking about someone else.
"The Queen thinks this one is different." 
"Well, then she is delusional." 
He found it peculiar that they were fighting. His teacher always told him that the witches of the Night Queendom, which called themselves rulers, always stuck together. He was taught like that. Cut off one head and three new ones will take its place. That is why the witches of the Night Queendom were so successful in banishing his kind, because they always stuck together. 
"We will see of her delusions very soon." 
A lock gets turned and he gets pushed up the same stairs he had been dragged down three nights ago when he failed his mission to kill the Queen. 
"Come now little bird, don’t give up now", she warns and pushes him roughly. 
He was close to giving up. He was taught that people like him were not supposed to give up no matter how hard life was. But he felt close to giving up, passing out to be more precise. Three nights and four days is a long time with no nourishment or sleep if one had to run for five days and climb walls before that. His body was losing its will to produce strength. 
And so he stumbled, cushioning his fall with his hands and knees. It ached so terribly. 
"Get up!" 
He gets pulled to his feet roughly. He could feel the sharp pain of the warrior's nails on his skin. 
"Aren’t you people supposed to be strong? Where is that strength now?" 
"Valkeria! Stop your cruelty, can’t you see that his body is weakened?" 
He gets pulled down a familiar hallway. He stumbles with his eyes barely staying open and his head pounding. He knows that hallway. He was led through it when he was caught. They are bringing him back to the Queen's bedchambers.  
"Stop." 
She stops him with a harsh tug on his hair. It made him stumble and groan in pain. 
He could hear three knocks somewhere far away and a voice call out even further away. Then he gets pushed again, falling to his knees. 
"Oh my! Valkeria you mustn’t push him that hard." 
"I am sorry my Queen, I underestimated my strength." 
He feels a warm hand place itself on his arm and rub circles up and down his skin. 
It was the Queen's hand, he knows that it was. It gave him enough strength to lift up his head and send her a deathly glare.  
You are smiling at him. 
"Good evening stranger. I apologize for my warriors, they can be quite rough at times. Auralia please help him up and help him take his place." 
She follows in an instance. Just moments later he is secured on a chair, arms and legs tied. He grunts and wiggles, but to no avail. He knits his brows and grinds his teeth. This is it. He is going to die like a weak bitch, tied up and starved. Oh if his fellow brothers would see him right now, they would laugh at him. 
He can hear them talk behind him, the Queen and Her warriors.
"Leave us." 
"But my Queen-" 
"Leave us."
"What will you do with him?" 
"It mustn’t concern you Valkeria." 
"You know how it ended last time, Ymir is dead." 
"Valkeria, don’t speak to Her like this." 
"No, don’t defend me Auralia. Valkeria’s worries are justified….Valkeria." 
"Yes my Queen?" 
"This one is different. And if he isn’t, Woltron will be happy to feast upon him." 
He shivered at that, tugging at the ropes in hopes of getting free. Woltron. That name fell twice this night. It must be one of the wolves he heard growling behind the castle walls. As tall as trees and with a fur as dark as the night and as sturdy as the strongest armour. They scare him. 
"I understand my Queen." 
"Leave now, I can handle him from here." 
"Yes my Queen." 
He can hear a door open and close then steps as the Queen rounds him. 
"It is just you and me now." 
He grunts and challenges you with a harsh tug on the ropes. It makes his stomach ache again. 
"Don't fight it. They are laced with magic, they only loosen when I tell them to." 
"You witch", he growls and spits at your feet, "your curses can’t hurt me." 
You stare at your feet and the spot on which his saliva is glistening in the lights. 
"You have terrible manners for someone, whose life I saved”, you observe with disappointment lacing your voice.
He looks away and clenches his jaw in anger. You call it saving, he calls it keeping him captive. 
"Now, let me see if my warriors were too cruel to you." 
You lower yourself to inspect his body. His muscles were tense, his skin dirty and his shirt was clinging to his torso in torn stripes. 
"They cut you open", you observe, stroking your finger underneath the deep cut. 
He tenses and tries to flee from your touch, pressing his toes into the ground with all he got. 
"Don't touch me witch", he presses out through gritted teeth. 
"I must if I want to clean you." 
You rise to get a bowl of warm, clean water and a soft rag. The water smells like eucalyptus, making his eyes water. You soak the rag and wring it out.
"Stay still now or else it will hurt more than it must." 
He tries to fight it, tries to flee but he knows it is fruitless, soon the rag is touching his wound. He hisses and writhes under the burning sensation.
"What is that? What are you doing to me?" 
"I am cleaning you. I don’t want you to get infected." 
You clean the rag of his blood and place it on his stomach a second time. His muscles ripple in answer, fleeing the sensation. It must burn a lot, you pity him, it must be really uncomfortable.
"No, don’t touch me." 
"I know it burns. I apologize but I must clean it." 
One last time you drag the clean rag over his stomach. 
"Don't touch me", he growls and writhes.
"Will you stay still?" you hiss, straightening up to be face to face with him, "I won’t hurt you, I merely want you to feel better." 
He grunts, breathing heavily. 
"I don't need your help." 
"Yes, yes you do because right now you are tied to my chair in my chambers after starving for four days while outside an army of my strongest warriors just burns to bury their swords in your chest. So yes, you do need my help right now." 
He understands. He knows that he was outnumbered, weakened and defenceless and that your mercy was the only thing still keeping him alive. He was clever enough to realise that fighting you right now would only end in his death. He was trained for this, trained to survive when his chances were miniscule and fight when his chances were overflowing. He knew that right now the best thing to do was be complacent. 
He scoffs and stops wiggling, challenging you with a cock of his eyebrows.
"That's better", you smile victoriously and begin cleaning the cut on his chest. 
It wasn’t as deep as the one on his stomach and he had almost forgotten about it, hadn’t you dragged your rag over it. 
He hisses and tenses up. 
"It burns doesn’t it?" 
He stays quiet. 
"I know, but worry not. You will feel better once it begins working." 
"What?” he stares at the rag with widened eyes, “what have you done witch?" 
"I'm no witch", you halt your movements, "and I haven’t done anything”, you begin cleaning him again, “I merely added healing oils to the water to soothe your pain.”
“Healing oils?” he asks, craning his neck to stare at his exposed torso.
“Yes, my healers prepared them for me. They are quite helpful I must say. I use them whenever something aches”, you explain and send him a reassuring smile.
You must be lying. These aren’t healing oils. They must be infused with magic. Must be made to kill him, poison him slowly until it looks like he died of a weak body. This is all just a trick. He grunts, begins writhing again until his wrists and ankles hurt from the ropes digging into his skin.
“Will you stay still?” you hiss, grabbing him by his cheeks and squishing them, “I am almost done.”
“Leave me alone. Leave”, he grunts in exhaustion, “leave me alone.”
You sigh, dropping the rag back into the dirty water. You stand up and pet his hair, making him flinch back and growl with every touch.
“They sent a feisty one this time. I must say, your friend was easier to handle.”
“My friend?”
“Yes, your friend. He came to us a fortnight ago, climbed the walls just like you did and failed to kill me”, you pause to study his features.
He doesn’t look at you, grinding his teeth with a clenched jaw.
“He was far more loquacious than you. Said his name was Seokjin and that his brothers wouldn’t stop trying until I am finally dead.”
You could watch how he tenses up at the mention of his friend’s name. So your assumptions were right, the Ravens of the Black Forest are finally making their moves again. They were a group of men, hiding out in the deepest corners of the Black Forest. They despised you for being a woman and for being the one in control. You did understand them, men on this earth were treated poorly by many of your fellow women, but their hatred still offended you. You made sure that men in your lands were treated fairly and as equals, not as lesser beings made to be a woman's ragdoll. But these men, these angry, misunderstood men wanted you dead nonetheless. It had been years until their last attacks before they started again last month.
“Why is Rafkan attacking us again?” you ask, spreading healing creams on his wounds, “tell me stranger, what is his motivation?”
He scoffs and turns his head away. He only reacts when you reach the cut on his stomach, sucking in air through his teeth at the cold sensation. You soothe him with a quiet “hush it’s good for you” and a soft pat to his stomach. It makes him tense up to the point that his muscles shake.   
“Is it gold that he wants?” you begin, placing the bowl of ointment on your table, “perhaps food? Or medicine?” you ask, eyes flitting up to meet his’.
His expression stays stone cold. He doesn’t want to talk. You begin placing clean bandages on his cuts, making him tense up. It is peculiar how he is still fighting your kindness when you are so gentle with him. You place the bandages on his cuts with uttermost care and smooth over them as cautiously as you could and he was still fighting you, hissing in anger and sending you dark looks.
“Clearly he wants something”, you say, finishing the last touches.  
“He doesn’t, he just wants you witches dead.”
“How you talk disappoints me. I am no witch, I already told you so.”
He scoffs, “sure.”
You furrow your brows and take a deep breath. This one is a lot more stubborn than his friend was. You can see it in his eyes, it won’t be an easy task to gain his trust.
“You know, your friend was the same as you. Stubborn and filled with anger. Until he realised that he had nothing to fear here.”
“I’m not scared of you”, he spits.
“Of course you aren’t, but wouldn’t it be much easier for both of us if you started to talk?”
He laughs dryly, shaking his head.
“I see, you don’t think that way. Fine, then I must convince you otherwise.”
His head snaps up at your words, eyes filled with fear even though he clearly doesn’t want you to know that he was scared. He knew it. He knew that you would sooner or later retort to torturing him. Just like Rafkan told him, the witches of the Night Queendom were evil, sadistic monsters. He watches you as you slither through the room like the poisonous snake you are. He is sure that underneath that ebony dress your scales are hiding and that behind those red painted lips your poisonous fangs were waiting to be used. He watches you as you disappear behind a folding screen, using the opportunity of solitude to tug at the ropes again. He grunts, grinding his teeth. No matter how much he fights, how much strength he uses or how angrily he wiggles, the ropes stay closed like iron fingers on his body.
“Fuck”, he presses out quietly, dropping his head. The bandages look weird on his body, almost forbidden. He hates to admit it, but whatever you did to him is working. Ever since your warrior cut him open, he felt this everlasting ache on his stomach. It is finally gone. He doesn’t feel anything other than the prickling sensation of whatever ointment you put on him and that sensation wasn’t painful, it was as a matter of fact pleasant and he hated it. He hated it because he never wanted to connect good sensations with your kind.
“So, now let’s see”, your voice makes him raise his head again.
You are back, strutting to him with a tray in your hands. His heart is racing unbearably fast in his chest. This is it. He only heard nightmare stories of your people’s cruelty and now he will experience it on his own body. You set the tray down on the table beside him and pull a chair close to him to sit down on it. He eyes the tray, wondering to himself why the tools looked like cutlery.
You reach for an iron jug, pouring translucent liquid into a mug. You guide the mug to his lips, touching them with the cold edge.
“Drink.”
He shakes his head, pressing his lips closed as good as possible.
“You must be thirsty, drink.”
He turns away.
“It will do you good.”
He shakes his head no and eyes the drink with panic in his eyes.
“Here, look”, you say and take a big sip, “it is water from our fountains. It is clean and tastes fresh, you have nothing to fear.”
“No.”
“Don’t be stubborn, you need water to live.”
“I don’t need your water, witch.”
“You must stop calling me a witch when I am merely trying to help you.”
“Help me? It would help me far more if you just slid my throat instead of poisoning me slowly.”
You sit back on your chair, tilting your head to the side in confusion.
“Poison you?” you laugh loudly.
It angers him to hear you laughing at his words. He tugs at the ropes and growls, hoping that the surge of anger gives him enough strength to break through. It doesn’t.
“I am not intending to poison you stranger, so come don’t be stubborn and accept the water”, you say, placing the mug against his lips again.
He breathes quickly, it smells like nothing. Only the iron mug gives off a faint scent. You tilt the mug, making the water touch his lips. He presses his eyes shut at the cold sensation, waiting for the unbearable burn of the poison. It doesn’t come, as a matter of fact, nothing happens other than that his skin feels wet all of a sudden.
“Drink.”
He locks eyes with you and finally parts his lips. The liquid feels cold on his tongue, coating his terribly dry mouth. He swallows, grunting when his throat finally stops aching in thirst. You were right. It tastes clean and fresh and so, so cold. He hates how good it felt and how hungrily he began drinking it.
“There we go. That’s better. You must have been really thirsty. I apologize that I kept you waiting for so long, but I needed to weaken you a little before I could talk to you.”
The water runs down his chin and trips down on his chest. You wipe it off with your hand.
“Don’t worry, you won’t return to your cell again. Unless of course, you decide to misbehave.”
He breaks away from the mug and swallows the last bit of the water.
“Just throw me in there again, I won’t talk”, his voice comes out easier now that his throat wasn’t so dry anymore.
“Oh trust me, I know that you won’t talk tonight. That is why I brought this”, you say and open an iron cloche.
He had expected to be met with torture devices, but instead freshly cooked food was looking back at him. Meat and potatoes, garnished with a red sauce. His stomach rumbles on instinct, so loudly that you could hear it as well.
“I can hear that you are hungry. So eat as much as you desire.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You think it is poisoned, don’t you?”
His silence is answer enough for you.
You sigh and cut off a piece of meat and potato so you could eat them in front of his eyes. You chew and swallow.
“See? It is not poisoned.”
He eyes it, swallowing down the saliva in his mouth.
“I’m not hungry.”
You cut off a piece and guide it to his lips.
“Eat.”
He locks eyes with you, opens his mouth and lets you place the food inside.
“There you go, that’s-“, your voice cuts off as he spits it back out again right at your face. You gasp and touch the spot it had touched.
“I don’t need your food witch”, he spits.
“I am trying to help you. How dare you spit at me”, you hiss.
“Be glad I am bound to this chair because if I wasn’t, I’d do things far worse to you.”
You place the fork down and sigh.
“You disappoint me stranger, I thought you would know better than this. Valkeria! Auralia!”
The door opens.
“What are you doing? Where are you taking me?”
“Take him back to his cell. He hasn’t learned his lesson yet.”
“I’ll kill you. You hear me?” he growls, fighting against your warriors' grasps.
“And gag him again, he is oh so noisy”, you order, locking eyes with him. Your warriors are stuffing a rag into his mouth, doing with little concern for his wellbeing. He grunts and whimpers, fighting against the feeling but losing miserably.
“I told you not to misbehave, this is all on you”, you tell him coldly, “now take him away, I don’t want to see him anymore.”
His screams are muffled and unintelligible, but you know that he is screaming curses at you.
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He had been sleeping before. It wasn’t really sleeping if he was being honest, the rag in his mouth and the ropes around his hands prevented him from feeling comfortable. Not that he found any kind of comfort in the cold, wet prison cell her warriors threw him in after he spat at her face last night. Or was it two nights ago? Perhaps even three nights? He doesn’t quite know as the only source of light was the measly torch outside his cell. But he knew that it was time for him to leave his cell again. It was being opened and two warriors stepped through the threshold.
“Wake up birdie”, one of them tells him and kicks his side.
He groans and writhes away, trying to sit up but failing miserably.
“Stop that Valkeria.”
“Why? She just told us to bring him to Her, she never spoke of treating him gently.”
“Yes, but kicking him awake won’t do you any good.”
"Yes it will, it's fun", she says and kicks him again. 
He could feel the pain in his entire body. It leaves a dull thumping sensation behind. 
"Stop that!" 
The other, and nicer, warrior squats down before him and places her hands on his shoulders so she could help him sit up. He does so with a groan, everything inside of him ached.
“I apologize for my friend’s behaviour. She doesn’t know what she is doing. The Queen sent for you again, you will leave your cell tonight”, she spoke with a calm and gentle voice.
She helps him to his feet and supports him by his arm.
“Come now, walk.”
He stumbles and tries to walk. He regrets not taking any of the Queen's food. He thought that he couldn’t feel any worse, but he does. He feels close to death. The colours around him looked washed out and pale, the world seemed blurry and distorted and his legs felt like two pieces of iron. He stumbles up the steps, the warrior pulls him back up easily.
“See? That is what you get when you refuse Her food”, she says with disappointment lacing her voice.
She was right in a way. He should have at least eaten the potato, then he wouldn’t be in so much pain. Perhaps then he would also have enough strength to push her down the stairs and run for his life. Perhaps if he ate that potato he would have already been able to flee.
He stumbles again, being held up by the warrior’s strong grasp.
“It’s not far anymore, hold on for a little longer.”
“Why are you so nice to him Auralia? He doesn’t deserve our kindness”, the first, and sadistic, warriors spits and a second later he feels his hair get twisted painfully.
“Walk.”
He groans and stumbles, hitting his shins and toes way too many times as she pulls him up the stairs by his hair.
“Valkeria stop that!”
She stops tugging at his hair but only because they have reached the Queens chambers and she needs to knock. He is crying by now. Not actually, physically crying because he feels sad but out of his eyes tears are spilling from the discomfort of his hair being tugged. And then she tugs at his hair again, making him stumble into the Queens chambers.
He would have fallen on his face if you hadn’t caught his body before that, now he is lying in your arms, face buried in your chest.
“Valkeria! If I see you abuse him one more time, you will be the one being fed to Woltron”, you spit angrily.
“It is not my fault he is too stupid to walk”, Valkeria answers, shrugging her shoulders.
You click your tongue, “leave for the night and tell Yeri to take your place instead.”
“My Queen?”
“You need to take control of your emotions Valkeria.”
“Yes my Queen. I understand my Queen”, she mumbles and bows her head.
The door closes then and he feels his body being straightened up.
“Good evening stranger”, you greet him with an apologetic smile, “I apologize for Valkeria’s behaviour, you must know she has good reasons to hate your people.”
He furrows his brows in confusion.
“Your friend, Seokjin, he killed one of my warriors before he fled back to you. Ymir was her name and she was Valkeria’s wife.”
He lowers his eyes in shame. 
“But for now let’s take off this gag shall we?”
He gasps for air the moment the rag is out of his mouth, licking over his lips repeatedly. The soaked rag lands on the floor with a low thump.
“I felt awful having to gag you for days, but you spat at my face, it was only the right thing to do.”
He scoffs, wiping his mouth with his tied hands. The corners of his mouth ache terribly, they also feel hot when he licks over them, he must have inflamed them from the rag constantly rubbing against them.
“Don’t worry, they are only a little reddened. It’s nothing a few days of rest can’t fix”, you assure him, “but now, come follow me. I need to clean you.”
You tug at his arms. He is too weak to fight back, stumbling after you.
“Where are we going?” he asks weakly, eyeing the chair he had been tied to before.
“The bathing room. You stink.”
You lead him past a wall of thick curtains into a small, windowless room. Dozens of candles were lit and in the middle of the room an iron tub was standing, filled with warm water. It smelled of lavender and chamomile in the room.
You stand him next to the tub and reach for a pair of sharp scissors. He eyes them.
“Stay away”, he warns.
“Stay calm, I won’t hurt you.”
You move closer, he stumbles back until the back of his knees hit the tub. It makes him hiss at the sudden warm sensation on his skin.
“What, what are you doing?”
“I am undressing you.”
“No, don’t touch my clothes.”
“I prepared new clothes for you. Worry not, they are still black”, you tell him and cut open the right sleeve of his blouse. Next the left sleeve, it rips easily. He wiggles with his upper body in an attempt to fight you off.
“Stay still”, you pull at the ropes, “I don’t want to cut you on accident.”
He stays still but only because the scissors were terribly close to his crotch. He raises his head and looks up at the ceiling. Rafkan was right, the witches of the Night Queendom were sadistic monsters and now the leader of them all was stealing him of the only thing still keeping him connected to his brothers. He wonders if next she tries to give him a new name or worse burn off his tattoo. That’s what those witches do, they steal your identity until you have forgotten who you were, that is what Rafkan told him. And that is why Seokjin has never returned to him and his brothers. He knows that you were lying. Seokjin probably never left the castle’s walls, perhaps he became dinner for the wolves or Valkeria killed him when you weren’t looking or maybe he was living among them, thinking that he was someone else. Seokjin would never willingly stay away from his brothers, something must have happened to him.
You cut off the last thread keeping his pants together and pull the destroyed fabric from his legs. You stand up again and watch his face. He stares at you with angry precision, jaw tensed and eyes burning in hatred. His tied hands are covering him, muscles flexed in the desire to bash your head in.
"Let’s get you in the water, shall we?”
He lets you help him step in the bathtub, but only because you kept his hands still tied. It is warm on his skin, he had already forgotten how warmth feels like or how baths felt like for that matter. It must have been years since his last bath. Rafkan doesn’t really let them take baths because baths were reserved for witches, so he said.
“There we go”, you say, supporting him as he sits down.
The water reaches him to his chest just a little under where his tattoo ends. The smell of lavender and chamomile is even stronger in the bathtub, making him dizzy.
“Now lean back and relax, I will get your soaps.”
He stares at you angrily, leaning back against the bathtub. He may seem like he is relaxing, but he isn’t, every fibre in his body is tensed. He watches you as you turn your back to him and begin sorting through something on the little table next to the tub. He wonders if he could strangle you, he would only need to act quickly enough. Jump to his feet and out of the bath and use the ropes around his wrists to strangle you instead. Or perhaps if he is even quicker he could steal the scissors from the table and carve a new hole into your ribcage. He sits up and pushes himself up.
“There we go”, you turn around, making him fall back against the tub, “I have everything I need. You must know our soap makers create masterpieces, you will feel so clean afterwards.”
You place the bar of soap on the edge of the tub and fill an iron bowl with water. Then you go behind him, making him crane his neck.
“Keep looking forward”, you tell him, turning his head back.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Hush, you will thank me.”
“No don’t-“, a gasp interrupts him as you pour water over his head. He grunts with his eyes closed, mouth opening and closing repeatedly and shoulders heaving up and down. You pour more water over his head, making him hold his breath. A third time and then you finally place the bowl on the floor and reach for the soap. He sends you a deathly glare over his shoulder. You merely give him an apologetic smile and turn his head to the front again. He grunts, frowning.
“If my body wasn’t so weak I would kill you”, he growls, “I would drown you in this bathtub right here and now.”
“Yes?” you say and begin rubbing the soap into his scalp.
“Yes. Or maybe I would bash your head in with the corner of the tub and watch your rotten brains spill out.”
“That sounds gruesome”, you say, running your nails over his scalp gently. You watch goosebumps form on his shoulders and neck.
“And then I, I would dig your rotten heart out of your chest with the scissors.”
“Really?” you pay special attention to the nape of his neck, massaging the soap into his hair thoroughly.
“And, and then I would strangle you and, and…and…” he drifts off, body relaxing just slightly.
“That sounds like a thorough plan. So why not do it?” you ask, running your fingers over the crown of his head repeatedly.
“Because you tied my hands”, he answers you.
“I thought the Ravens were taught to fight with their hands tied so that they would never be handicapped in a fight.”
You brush his hair out of his face, making sure to caress his forehead with relaxing touches. The movements make his head tilt back just enough that you could watch his eyelids flutter. You keep watching them, massaging the front of his head in circular motions.
“That is a lie”, he presses out, forcing his lips closed so they wouldn’t part in relaxation.
“It is? I apologize then, it seems I was misinformed.”
You tilt his head back to the front and get the bowl.
“Close your eyes, I need to wash the soap out.”
He hates that he closes his eyes and that he waits for the water with held breath and he hates it even more that he feels disappointed that you have already finished washing his hair. If his brothers would see him right now they would beat him with sticks until he wasn’t moving anymore. He is betraying them, with every second he sits in this tub and allows you to wash him he is betraying them.
“There we go”, you place the bowl down, “the worst is gone, now I will make sure it is thoroughly cleaned.”
He tenses up when he feels your fingers in his hair again, rubbing soothing circles on his scalp. He hates that he doesn’t hate it. Your fingers draw circles on his scalp, tugging on his hair softly with every movement. He sighs and closes his eyes. Somewhere far away he remembers the sensation. He can’t place the location or person to said sensation, but he knows that sometime in his life he had experienced it before. He squeezes his eyes shut further to stop the brickling of tears. Why does he like this so much?
“Now tell me something else. I heard the Ravens are all orphans and that Rafkan was the one who saved you. Is that also a lie?”
He growls and turns, pushing himself out of the tub. The mention of his leader clearly angered him. You push him back down, “stay I’m not finished with you.”
“I hate you”, he spits, writhing away, “don’t touch me witch.”
Now he realises what had happened, why he enjoyed this moment so much. It was black magic again. You bewitched him and made him believe that he enjoyed your touches. It was all a scheme to get him to talk and spill the secrets of his people.
“I am no witch”, you hiss and press him down harshly, “now stay and let me wash you.”
He wiggles, making the water splash over the edge of the tub.
“Keep still.”
He fights more, almost making you fall into the water with him.
Slap.
He gasps and stops fighting. You just slapped his cheek with the back of your hand. It wasn’t hard or painful, just a mere nudge, but it surprised him nonetheless.
“See? Now I slapped you on accident. That is what you get from wiggling so much.”
He looks over his shoulder to send you a deathly glare. You smile and connect your fingers with his hair.
“I apologize for slapping you, I hope it didn’t hurt.”
He scoffs.
“I take this as a no”, you say and massage his scalp so well that he can’t help but shiver on instinct, “I merely want to help you stranger.”
He turns to the front and clenches his jaw. It angers him how weak his body feels. Just those short moments of struggle drained him to the point that his eyes feel droopy. He couldn’t fight you any more, even if he tried. He just has to sit here and allow you to wash his hair.
“Tell me stranger, do you have a name? I don’t like calling you stranger.”
He stays silent. You massage the spot behind his ears, watching how he straightens up at the sensation and tilts his head back. You keep touching him there. His lips part without him even noticing that they do.
“Or perhaps you have no name”, you wonder.
He doesn’t answer you. Your fingers run through his hair again, making his shoulder raise and sink in a deep breath.
“Worry not, I can give you one.”
He tenses up.
“How about Ragnahr? Or perhaps a longer name. Something strong and mysterious. Something like-“
“Jungkook. My name is Jungkook.”
“Jungkook?”
“Yes.”
“That is a good name. It fits you.”
Jungkook closes his eyes and squeezes his own hands in anger. He wasn’t angry at you, he was angry at himself for revealing his name to you so easily. All it took was for you to threaten him with a wrong name and he already broke. Rafkan would be so disappointed in him. He should have just let you give him a wrong name. It is not like he is planning on staying here for long. Once he has eaten and rested and has regained his strength he will finally fulfill his task of killing you. He should have stayed unknown, should have taken on a wrong name and lived under an alias until his destiny was fulfilled.
You twist his hair softly, gathering it up at the top of his head to really rub the soap into his scalp. He can hear your movements and feel them all the way down to his toes. It makes them curl and his eyelids flutter. He allows them to fall closed because deep down he knew he couldn’t fight this exhaustion for long anymore. 
He begins thinking again. There must have been something stopping him from living under an alias. Something inside of him that told his tongue to speak the truth because living in a lie would have been torture too big. Perhaps it was that everlasting emptiness in his heart, which was present ever since he was five and ripped away from his parent’s dead arms by a masked stranger. Perhaps it was this hollow unknowing he always had to carry around with him that told him that losing even more of his identity would end in his ruin.
“My name is ___, you can call me this instead of always calling me a witch”, you say, running your fingers along his temples. You could feel that he carried a lot of pain in that area, it was written all over his features and was present in the way he tensed at your touch.
“Why would I call you this when you are nothing but a witch?” he hisses, but the slight shake in his voice made him sound a lot less angry.
“Because you think wrongly of me. I am no witch, I am a simple woman with no magical abilities.”
“Lies. You and your people are witches.”
“Is that what Rafkan told you?”
He closes his mouth and stays silent.
“Of course he did”, you sigh, “Rafkan doesn’t know everything about this world.”
“Yes he does and he told me that you would say such things. That you would use sweet words and soft touches to bewitch me until I am your slave.”
“My slave?” you laugh loudly and for some reason it makes him feel really stupid.
“Don’t laugh”, he spits angrily.
“I must apologize, but that is perhaps the most amusing thing I have ever heard.”
He scoffs, clenching his jaw.
“I don’t keep slaves in my castle. Everyone who is by my side, who works for me or does things for me, does them out of their own free will.”
“I don’t believe you”, he hisses, “I know your true nature. I know about your scales and your poisonous fangs and about the human sacrifices.”
“Human sacrifices?” you laugh, “scales and fangs?” you laugh even more.
“Stop laughing!” he screams in anger.
He just told you that he knows your darkest secrets and you are laughing at him. You are mocking him. It angers him so much that he feels like crying. You are not supposed to laugh, you are supposed to beg him not to tell anyone.
You round him then, carrying amusement in your eyes.
“Tell me Jungkook. Where did Rafkan tell you that I am covered in scales?”
He stays silent but looks at your torso.
“My torso? Oh that’s a clever place. He probably told you that because of them you need to make sure to stab me with all your strength so the knife would pierce them didn’t he?”
He turns his head away and grinds his teeth. You are still mocking him, taking him for a fool. This must be your way of hiding the truth. Make him out to be the idiot while your secrets stay safe. He clenches his jaw, feeling all the tension you massaged away return to his head.
He hears something then, as if fabric had hit the ground. He turns his head, instantly looking away again. You have bared yourself to him. Rafkan told him not to look at your naked body because the scales would hypnotise him. He holds his breath, squeezes his eyes shut and hopes that this would be enough to keep him safe.
“Don’t turn away. Look at me.”
“You can’t trick me witch.”
“I am not tricking you. Look at me.”
“No, I know what this will do to me. I’m no fool.”
“Yes you are. A fool who believes the ramblings of an even bigger fool”, you step closer, “look at me Jungkook.”
“No.”
“Look. At. Me.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then you will prove to me that you are nothing but a foolish child.”
He isn’t foolish, let alone a child. It angers him that you would even dare to put such words into your mouth. He peels his eyes open, looking at the ground. He can see your legs from the corners of his eyes. They seem normal to him. He takes a deep breath. He needs to be brave now, Rafkan will be so proud of him if he survives.
He turns and holds his breath.
“What?” he gasps, feeling his world crumble.
He blinks in confusion, letting his eyes run over your body almost obsessively exact. There are no scales, not even one. You turn a few times to show him everything. Still nothing, only human skin.
“But…”
“Rafkan lied to you”, you close the distance between you and him and step into the bath.
He tenses up, tries to get away from you. He ends up housing you between his legs, panting at the feeling of your skin against his.
“Just as he lied to you about my fangs”, you say and open your mouth.
He looks at every tooth, feeling like his head might explode. Rafkan told him of big, sharp fangs. He told him that just a touch could kill and that therefore he shouldn’t force your mouth open after he killed you to check for them. There were no fangs in your mouth, not even one.
“No, no he wouldn’t lie.”
“Yes he would. He is a madman, who is obsessed with the idea of making me fall. I am sure that he told you that my people hunt your people for fun, that we find some sick pleasure in hurting men.”
You came closer in the time you spoke, making him press himself against the bathtub.
“Stay away from me.”
You reach for something on the table and Jungkook flinches away as you pull your hand back.
“I don’t want to hurt you”, you say, forcing him to look at you with two fingers under his chin. There is a clean rag in your fingers, “I want to help you.”
You soak the rag, guiding it to his face. He moves back, panting heavily in anger, or maybe it was fear.
“What are you doing?”
“Cleaning you. Your face looks terrible with all the dirt covering it”, you say, dragging the fabric over his chin.
He grunts, watching your hand as it dances up his face to clean his left cheek. His eye closes on instinct as you drag the rag over his skin underneath it. You clean his nose next, up and down the bridge of it until his eyes feel terribly heavy again. This must be your magic again, he feels so tired all of a sudden. You clean his right cheek, doing so a lot more tender because he has a little cut on his cheekbone. It burns just the slightest bit, but not enough to wake him up. Your face blurs in his vision, the colours fade out again as his eyes close more and more.
You wash out the cloth.
“We are almost done, worry not”, you say quietly and support his wobbling head with your hand at the back of it.
“What have you done to me?” he forces out, eyes falling closed.
“Nothing, although I must confess I chose the best sleeping oils for our bath. Their smell is supposed to help you fall asleep.”
“Stop messing with my mind, witch.”
“I’m not and I am no witch.”
You clean his forehead, watching the creases disappear from it. It only lasts a second. He inhales loudly and forces his eyes open again. The warmth of the water, the scent of the flowers, your tender touch and soft body against his’ almost got him. He can’t give up now, not when he had already come so far. Who knows what you would do to him, would he fall asleep. Perhaps you would drown him in this bath, hang his naked body for everyone to see above your castle walls. He can’t allow that to happen.
“Don’t fight it. I know you haven’t rested in days”, you whisper, caressing his cheek with your hand.
He shakes you off and widens his eyes.
“I’m not tired.”
“Yes you are, even now when you are surrounded by warm water, your body is shivering. I can feel it.”
He knows that you were right. He had been shivering uncontrollably ever since you joined him in the bath. He is glad that you think it was because of exhaustion, because in truth he was terribly scared of you. He was scared that this was all just a trick. That Rafkan was right and you were nothing but a snake. Perhaps he failed to mention that you could hide your true nature and you knew that. Perhaps you are using his ignorance to your advantage.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Believe me?” you ask, cleaning his torso with the rag.
“Your scales and fangs, you are hiding them.”
You chuckle, “and you fear that if you close your eyes I would use them on you?”
“I know you are planning something, witch.”
“Yes, I am. I want you to rest tonight.”
Jungkook furrows his brows and watches you. You are cleaning his stomach, using less pressure when your fingers are touching his cut. You are so gentle with him, it is confusing him so much. Why are you gentle and careful with him? Why is your skin not covered in scales? Why does your mouth not carry fangs? And why do you want him to rest as if his wellbeing was of importance to you?
“Why?”
You smile and pat his shoulder, “why not?”
He blinks and shifts his gaze to the water. This all confuses him so terribly much.
“Now, let’s finally wash out that soap and get you to bed”, you say, rising from the bath to leave it and round him. You pour water over his head, making him gasp and grunt at the sensation. You do it a second time and he is holding his breath this time around.
“There we go, now wait here and I will get the towel.”
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He is awake in an instance from the nightmare plaguing his mind. It was the same he always has. A masked man rips him out of the arms of his dead parents. He gasps and sits up, but something holds him back, tugs him down by his wrists until his back collides with the headboard. He groans in pain and surprise, looking around the room only to come face to face with you resting on your knees beside him.
"Good morning", you say, stroking your palm over his stomach, "I just finished treating your cuts, they are healing splendidly." 
"Where am I?" he asks, voice heavy in sleep.
"My bed of course." 
"No. No. What have you done to me?" 
"Nothing, you were just too exhausted to walk to your chambers and so I allowed you to sleep with me." 
He looks down at his body. Black, linen pants were covering his lower body. 
"Yes I put them on. I must say, your legs are quite heavy when you sleep." 
He tries to rub his legs together to see if he was still a man. 
"Don’t worry, I didn’t cut it off and use it as a necklace", you joke. 
He blinks at you with widened eyes. 
"I see you don’t find humor in it", you observe, "worry not, although Rafkan told you about our love for stealing men of their pride, we don’t actually do that, especially because they can bring us a lot of joy as well." 
"What?" he gasps and shakes his head, "no. Stay away." 
"Worry not, I merely intend to take care of your wounds and to feed you of course. 
"Feed me?" 
"Yes, your hands are tied."
He tries to raise them but finds himself unable to do as two ropes keep them on the mattress securely.
“Let me go”, he growls.
“I fear that this is not possible”, you give him an apologetic smile, “you carry too much hatred in your eyes still, I don’t want to risk it.”
“Risk it? What? Do I scare you?” he spits, grinning victoriously.
You study his face. He keeps up the eye contact. You sigh, eyes filling with pity as you let them run over his features. It confuses him again, maybe makes him even feel nervous. He clears his throat, feeling his gaze falter.
“You don’t scare me. I pity you.”
“Pity?” he scoffs and laughs, “if you feel so terrible for what you do to me then free me.”
“You misunderstand me. I don’t feel bad for what I do to you. I feel bad for what he did to you.”
Rafkan was right, the witches are confusing creatures, speaking in riddles and madness. He doesn’t understand a thing you are saying.
“How old were you when they came for you?”
“I, I don’t know what you are saying.”
“You called out for your parents as you slept. More than once.”
He turns his head away, looks to the side. This is not good, now you know his darkest secret and can use it against him.
“I figure you must have been nothing but a child. You must have been. This would have given him enough time to twist his way into your mind.”
He doesn’t understand. It angers him so much to feel so stupid and ignorant in your presence.
“What are you talking about?” and so he screams at you, tugging at the ropes with all he got.
You don’t flinch back, you simply sigh in sadness and reach out to cup his cheek.
He flinches away, skin burning where you are touching him.
“Rafkan doesn’t speak everything out loud, Jungkook”, you whisper.
“I, I don’t understand”, he chokes out, feeling close to tears in desperation. You are confusing him so much.
“You can’t, but give it some time. You will understand one day.”
“Tell me.”
“Not today”, you give him a smile, “for now, you need to eat, gain back your strength and nourish your body.”
You turn to your side then and reach for a grape, which had been resting on a plate on the mattress.
"I picked out the sweetest kind", you say, guiding it to his lips.
He eyes the grape, breathing heavily.
“Open up.”
He shakes his head.
“I didn’t poison it.”
“Stay, stay away from me.”
“Fine”, you give up and eat the grape yourself, “perhaps you want some cheese instead?”
You offer him a piece of finely cut cheese on a slice of bread, it is rolled up so it looks like a flower.
“No.”
“You haven’t eaten in a week, don’t be foolish. You need the food.”
“I don’t need your food. I need answers.”
“They will come eventually.”
“I want them now.”
You furrow your brows, eyes darkening. It makes him swallow. You scoot closer, sitting down on his lap. He squeezes his eyes shut, head hitting the edge of the headrest as he moves away. He went too far and now he will finally feel the cruelty of the witches, Rafkan always spoke of. But it doesn’t come, instead you cup his cheek and make him look at you.
“Eat”, you whisper, touching his lips with the bread.
It smells so good that it makes his mouth water. Oh heavens, he is so hungry. He swallows and gawks at the bread.
“Eat, it will do you good”, you tell him.
He shakes his head.
“You can trust me.”
For the briefest of moments he looked into your eyes, meeting nothing but the purest honesty in them. Can he really trust you? Is this really just food? You encourage him with a nod of your head and a soft smile, caressing his cheekbone softly.
You brush your thumb over his lips, making them prickle at the sensation.
“Eat”, you breathe, putting soft pressure on his lips.
He exhales shakily and lets you open his mouth, gasping quietly when you replace your thumb with the bread. You press his jaw closed the moment the food rests on his tongue. He knows you are only doing so, so that he can’t spit it out again.
“Now chew”, you order him, keeping a tight grip on him.
He chews, keeping his eyes locked on your face. You stare at his lips, watching him chew with a sort of pride in your eyes. He swallows, feeling the bread against his lips in an instance.
“Again.”
He bites off a piece and chews with the help of you. He hates how helpless you made him, not because it embarrasses him, no for a weird reason it doesn’t embarrass him, but because he gave in so easily once again. First his name and now he lets you feed him. His brothers would be so disappointed in him. Is that how Seokjin felt too? Did you do the same things to him as you do right now?
“Again.”
He opens his mouth and lets you stuff it with bread and later force his jaw closed. He hadn’t even intended on spitting on you this morning. He was feeling too hungry for that and as much as he hates to admit it, he knows that he needs the food. If he had refused it again and you threw him into his cell for yet another three days, he feared that the hunger might have killed him.
“Again. Last bite.”
Your fingers aren’t as tight on his jaw as they were before. Perhaps you already trust him a little more.
He swallows, your fingers fall from his face.
“Perfect. Now”, you reach to the plate, “you must try a grape.”
“Why?”
“Because they taste lovely to cheese”, you explain, guiding it to his lips.
“No.”
“Oh heavens, will you eat? How are you intending to gain back your strength if you keep refusing the food I prepared for you?”
He lowers his eyes and licks over his lips. You were right. He sighs, opens his mouth and takes in the grape. You had wanted to reach for his jaw again but he moved away faster, looking at you with dark eyes. It makes you smile.
“See? It wasn’t that hard.”
You reach for another piece of bread and some grapes.
“Here, have more. You must try it together, it will change the way you look at food.”
You were right. Again. It tasted really good. He liked it, it made his tongue prickle and his chest feel warm. Rafkan doesn’t really allow them to eat good food, just things to keep the body strong. Good food is reserved for witches who gain pleasure out of it, so he always said. Jungkook kind of liked the good food a lot more than the one Rafkan gave him.
“And? Do you enjoy it?” you ask.
He swallows and clenches his jaw.
“What are you doing to me?” he hisses. There must have been something in this food. Maybe not poison, but something magical. Something that forces him to find this moment so not at all horrible.
You laugh softly and tilt your head to the side, eyes filling with warmth.
“Nothing”, you say, “I’m just feeding you.”
“Did you enchant it?”
You eye the food between your fingers.
“Do you enjoy it that much?”
He looks to the side, hoping that you can’t see the blush on his cheeks.
“You do”, you caress his shoulder and scoot up his lap, “that is wonderful to hear. Here, take more until you feel like your hunger has vanished.”
Jungkook eats a lot this morning and he hates that he enjoys every second of it.
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He was in his chambers, staring at the walls as he always did this past week, when a knock made his head turn.
“What?” he asks coldly, watching the door open and three people enter his room.
Two witches and a man. It surprises him. He saw men on her castle grounds, but this is the first time he is meeting one up close.
“Good morning Sire, I hope you rested well.”
Jungkook scoffs and turns back to the wall.
“I’m not a Sire.”
“Well, Our Majesty told me to treat you with the highest respect, so I am going to address you as Sire today…Sire.”
Jungkook sneaks a glance at him and the masses of fabrics the two witches were carrying.
“What are you doing here anyway?” he asks.
“Dressmaking.”
“Dressmaking?” he asks, cocking his right eyebrow up.
“You see Sire, my name is Bartholomew and I am a dressmaker.”
“Dressmaker?”
“Tailor, Sire. I am a tailor.”
“Ah I understand….and why are you in my room?”
“To measure you of course.”
“Measure me?”
“You are a man of many questions Sire”, he mumbles and fixes the buttons on his coat, “you see, Our Majesty let me know that she had to destroy your clothes to…well, bathe you properly. And I am here to remake them in your image.”
He snorts and chuckles.
“She wants to dress me? What? I’m her puppet now?”
The tailor clears his throat and looks at his two assistants. It seems that his words had flustered him greatly.
“No…of course not Sire. She merely wanted to give you a part of your identity back.”
Jungkook faltered. What tricks is she playing now? If she really wanted to give him a part of his identity back she would have let him run two weeks ago, not lock him up in a windowless room and only take him outside for walks where his wrists were tied together. There were of course all those countless warm baths she shared with him and the many dinners he had to take with her. She allowed him to eat on his own most nights. She currently doesn’t allow him to eat on his own however, Jungkook has himself to blame for that as he had tried to stab her eyes with a butter knife last night.
That is why her generosity confuses him greatly, no it doesn’t confuse him, it leaves him suspicious. He almost blinded her last night and now she wants to give him presents?
“Why would she want that?”
“Because she felt gracious this morning.”
“I don’t understand. I almost blinded her last night.”
The tailor nods.
“She told me that you would say that Sire and I can tell you that she is more forgiving than you think she is.”
Jungkook grinds his teeth. He thought that a man would understand him better, but it seems that his mind had been poisoned by the witches as well. The tailor claps into his hands then.
“Now! Let us get started. I have a lot of work to do.”
His two assistants place the heaps of fabric on his bed and pull Jungkook to his feet.
“Don’t touch me, let go of me”, he growls, fighting against them.
They show no struggle, leading him to the tailor with ease.
Jungkook grunts and wobbles on the steps they put him on, staring down at the man with dark eyes.
“I swear to god if you even as much as dare to touch me I will rip your head off”, he warns.
“Very threatening indeed”, the tailor mumbles mindlessly, squatting down to begin measuring Jungkook’s legs.
He watches him work, considering for a moment if he should kick him in the face and use the moment of chaos to escape. The tailor's two assistants begin circling him before he can, holding up different kinds of fabrics against his face.
“Don’t touch me”, he hisses, moving his head away.
“They won’t touch you, Sire. They merely want to figure out your perfect colours.”
“My perfect colours? I’m not a witch, I don’t need colours”, he spits.
“Everybody needs a little colour in their life, Sire. Especially in a land where the nights are so long”, the tailor mumbles, “now spread your legs.”
“No.”
The tailor forces them open.
“I said no”, he spits, closing them again.
“Sire”, the tailor forces them apart again, “stay still. I can’t measure them otherwise.”
Jungkook clenches his jaw, watching the tailor wrap the measuring tape around his thigh. He feels fabric against his cheek and as he turns his head one of the assistants is holding up a rosé coloured fabric. She looks into his eyes, squinting her own as she studies him.
“That colour looks nice with your eyes, Sire”, she lets him know, handing the fabric over to her colleague, “put this on the pile to take.”
“No. I don’t want colour. I want black”, Jungkook spits, lowering his eyes in anger.
She clicks her tongue in distaste, “but Sire this-“
“I want black or else I will use this stupid fabric to hang you from the ceiling.”
Something pinches him on his inner thigh.
“Ah”, he gasps, looking down at the tailor, “did you just poke me with a needle?”
The tailor ignores him. He did poke him with a needle, doing so as a punishment for the way Jungkook talked to his assistants, but he won’t let him know that.
“Strong thighs. You were running a lot weren’t you?” he says instead.
“I could outrun all of you if that is what you are asking.”
“I am positive that you could, Sire.”
The tailor straightens up and wraps the measuring tape around Jungkook’s hips. He tenses at the touch.
“Stay away.”
“Do you want it to pinch your manhood Sire or do you want it to be comfortable?”
Jungkook closes his mouth and stops fighting.
“As I thought, now let me measure you.”
He allows him with a clenched jaw, watching the tailor’s assistants instead. They are discussing the different pieces of black fabric, comparing them to each other as if there was any difference between them. They were all the same to him.
“You seem to be in good shape, Sire. Our Majesty can count herself lucky.”
“Excuse me?” Jungkook's voice pitched in surprise about the bluntness of the tailor.
“Keep your arms stretched out, Sire”, he says, putting Jungkook’s arms in the desired position.
He allowed him, too shocked had made him his words.
“What did you mean by that?” he stresses.
“Are you not her lover, Sire? The castle watched you enter her chambers each night and leave it hours later with your cheeks tainted red.”
“That’s – “, Jungkook falls silent for he is far too shocked to come up with an answer.
He would never. Never. Never. To even think about it...let alone do. Never. Just, never.
“-not mine to ask. You must forgive me Sire, I shouldn’t have asked.”
Jungkook scoffs and looks away, meeting the assistants’ curious gazes. They are studying him, looking at him as if he allowed them to do so.
“What?” he spits, making them flinch and giggle, “stop laughing.”
“Now, now. Don’t be too harsh on them, Sire. Everyone in the castle is excited about the news. You must know, Our Majesty usually doesn’t keep male guests, so we are all excited that she chose such a handsome, strong man to be by her side.”
“I’m not by her side”, he squeaks, “I’m her prisoner.”
They all giggle.
“I see Sire, her prisoner.”
“Why did you say this so weirdly?”
The tailor grins boyishly and winks at him.
“That is – no, just no. How dare you even think of that. This is outrageous, I – no.”
 The assistants giggle again.
“Stop laughing!”
They don’t listen, whispering and giggling to each other as they begin comparing fabrics again. The tailor moves on to measure Jungkook’s chest.
“I’m her prisoner, I mean it. She is keeping me against my will”, he stresses, whispering the words to the tailor, “shouldn’t you be on my side?”
“And why should I?”
“Because you and I are the same. We should stick together.”
“You and I are not the same Sire, believe me.”
“Can’t you see that they have cursed you?”
“Cursed me?” the tailor laughs, “this is utter nonsense.”
“It isn’t and you know that it isn’t. What did they do to you? Did they torture you?”
“No Sire, I am a simple dressmaker, nothing more.”
“Help me, please.”
“Help you? With what?”
“Escaping.”
“Why do you want to escape Sire? Is Our Majesty not treating you well?”
“No, she is a monster.”
“A monster?” the tailor asks and chuckles, “how ridiculous.”
“I am serious. They are all witches here. All of them and you are nothing but their puppet.”
At that the tailor stops working.
“Now I must forget my manners for a second. Stop calling them witches, they aren’t witches. They have names and feelings and they care a fuck more about you than Rafkan ever did.”
“Excuse me?” Jungkook gasps. Where did that man’s manners go?
The tailor hooks his fingers in Jungkook’s shirt collar and rips it open. Jungkook had no time to react, left gawking at the tailor with widened eyes. His tattoo is on complete display for the tailor and his assistants, they stare at it with pitiful eyes.
“The Ravens of the Black Forest sent you.”
Jungkook covers his tattoo quickly, fumbling with his shirt in hopes of repairing it.
“And if they did? You know going against me will end in your deaths.”
“I know, Jungkook.”
“How, how do you know my name?”
The tailor unbuttons his coat and pulls it open, revealing a black raven tattoo on his chest.
“What?”
“I was one of you once. A Raven, filled with hatred for the women you call witches and with my mind poisoned in lies. You probably don’t remember me, you were with the Ravens for a little over five months when Rafkan sent me away to kill the Queen’s mother.”
Jungkook jumps from the steps, grabbing the tailor by his throat.
“You traitor. I’ll bash your head in”, he spits, pushing him against a wall.
The assistants wanted to help, but the tailor stops them with a raise of his hand. Jungkook can feel their scared eyes on the back of his head.
“I’m not your enemy Jungkook.”
“Yes you are. You betrayed our people.”
“Our people are here. The blacksmith? Left the Ravens five years ago. The warrior whose left eye always twitches? Left the Ravens after Rafkan hurt said eye in a fit of rage. The three philosophers you always see talking in the gardens? Ravens, who saw that life wasn’t about killing but learning. We weren’t killed by the Queen, we were saved.”
“Liar”, Jungkook growls, pressing him closer to the wall, "she kills people, I know she does."
“I’m not lying”, the tailor insists.
“She cursed you.”
“She didn’t.”
The tailor breaks Jungkook’s fingers away from his throat, lowering them. Jungkook lets him, feeling too weak to fight back. He was dizzy in confusion. This all didn’t make sense to him. 
“I was a little older than you are now when I left the Ravens”, the tailor begins, closing his coat as he speaks, “I climbed the walls and wanted to slit her throat. Just like Rafkan told me to do. I got captured and at first I was going mad at the idea of killing everyone in this castle. That is until I realised that I had never lived in such comfort before than I did here.”
“We are not meant to live in comfort. That is reserved for witches.”
“How naïve can you be, child?” the tailor spits, “we are not destined to live in the cold, wet darkness of the Black Forest and under the hand of a madman. We deserve a warm, comfortable home.”
“No”, he shakes his head, “no we do not.”
“Yes we do”, the tailor steps closer, taking Jungkook’s face between his hands, “tell me Jungkook have you ever slept as well in the Black Forest as you do here? Have you dined that well? Did you smell that good? Or even felt that safe?”
Jungkook falters, “n-no, but – “
“But what? Do you really think you are destined to die from the Black Forest’s toxic fumes or under the sharp teeth of one of the many monsters living in it?”
“That’s, that is why we train.”
“But we don’t have to. You don’t have to. Here, you don’t have to live each day thinking it is your last.”
“No”, Jungkook shakes him off, “no, I don’t believe you. She cursed you, I’m sure she did.”
“Then tell me Jungkook. Do you feel cursed ever since you came here or do you still feel like yourself?”
“Like….like…” Jungkook swallows, pushing his hair back nervously, “I don’t know. Don’t ask me that, I don’t know.”
“I think you do.”
Jungkook shakes his head.
“Tell me Jungkook.”
“I can’t, I don’t know.”
“You do. Tell me!”
“No!”
“Tell. Me.”
“I feel like myself and I feel a lot damn better than I did in the past!”
The tailor smiles, features softening.
“You see? It wasn’t that hard to admit.”
“Yes it was”, Jungkook chokes out and sinks down on the bed, burying his face in his hands.
All those Ravens Rafkan told him about, all those Ravens he said were killed painfully, actually found a new life here? They aren’t dead. They are alive, protected and taken care of. And...and he could have this too? No more cold, sleepless nights? No more endless days of hunger when hunting was bad? No more aching limbs and burning lungs? He could have this too. He could have a comfortable home. 
“I’m scared Bartholomew.”
“Scared of what?”
“What Rafkan will think of me once he finds out.”
Bartholomew sits down next to Jungkook and pats his back.
“Well, luckily for you. Rafkan can’t reach you here”, he says softly.
Jungkook exhales shakily and raises his head. He can’t reach him here. He can’t hurt him here. Jungkook exhales shakily. He can’t hurt him here.
Jungkook turns, staring at the fabrics behind him.
“Can I…look at them?” he asks quietly.
Bartholomew exchanges a proud look with his assistants, squeezing Jungkook’s shoulder brotherly.
“Of course you can Sire, look at all of them and pick out the ones you like the most. I will do the rest.”
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You are holding a banquet for guests from far away countries. The princess of the Sand Queendom and her husband came with their closest friends. The powerful Sorceresses of the Ruby Hills came, bearing gifts of gemstones and healing oils. Even then Huntresses of the Snow Wall with their black horses and long braided hair came to celebrate with the people of the Night Queendom. He was your guest, the man by your side in fine silks but with chains around his ankles hidden underneath the tablecloth. He hated the evening at first, but then you fed him delicious food and ran your fingers through his hair and he didn’t quite hate the evening as much anymore. He just hated that he didn’t hate your tenderness and worse that he craved it whenever you paid attention to someone else. He especially hated himself when he felt jealousy in his stomach as he watched you dance with another man, laughing at his jokes and holding his hand.
He stands up from his chair, feeling Valkeria’s iron grip on his shoulder in an instance.
“Stay birdie”, she hisses.
He looks up at her with dark eyes.
“I want to dance with her.”
“You want to dance?” she laughs tauntingly, “and make a fool of yourself?”
She shakes her head and looks at Yeri and Auralia with amusement in her eyes. She slaps the back of his head so hard that he hears ringing in his ears for a few minutes.
“Just stay seated and spare yourself of the embarrassment. Idiot.”
Jungkook clenches his jaw and eyes the knife on the table. Maybe he could reach for it and use it to poke Valkeria into her stupid mouth. He hates her so much. He has been the Queen’s guest since two months and she is still hurting him whenever the Queen wasn’t looking. He can’t stand her. She is cruel and exactly how he imagines actual witches to be like.
“That was exciting”, you return before he could hurt Valkeria, plopping down on your chair beside him. Your skin is glistening in a sheer layer of sweat and you are slightly out of breath. Jungkook lets his eyes linger on your neck for a moment, your jewellery was slightly out of place. He wants to fix it, but doesn’t dare with Valkeria’s fingers still tightly around his shoulder. Jungkook looks away, searching for the man who made you laugh. He is dancing with another woman already, making her smile as well. Jungkook looks away, turning a cold shoulder to you. He is angry at you for leaving him with Valkeria and for giving attention to this weird-looking man. Yes, Jungkook thought that the man looked really weird with his blonde hair and blue dress. He looked far better than that fool.
You study him and the hand on his shoulder.
“Valkeria let go of him”, you say.
“Yes my Queen”, she says and steps back in an instance.
You turn on the chair to face him, placing your hand on his lower arm.
“What is the matter Jungkook?”
“Nothing”, he presses out.
“Do you want more food? More wine?”
He shakes his head.
“Perhaps you want to dance?”
He gnaws on his lower lip in contemplation. He does want to dance. Valkeria laughs behind him, voice carrying judgment. Or perhaps he doesn’t want to dance. He shakes his head and turns away even more.
“Speak to me.”
“I want your warriors to stop hurting me”, he hisses and turns to face you, “I’ve done what you wanted me to do. I stayed with you, behaved, was your little puppet whenever you wanted to bath or feed me. I don’t deserve to be hurt by someone like Valkeria whenever you aren’t looking.”
You look over his shoulder at Valkeria. She seems shocked that Jungkook dares to out her in such a way.
“Is that true?” you ask both Jungkook and Valkeria.
“Yes.” “He is lying.”
You look at Jungkook. He lowers his eyes, knitting his brows in anger.
“It seems that your stories aren’t matching.”
“He is lying my Queen. He just wants special treatment. I would never hurt your prisoners.”
“He is not my prisoner. He is my guest.”
“He is still lying.”
“I’m not lying!” he complains loudly.
Valkeria draws her sword halfway, “say that again birdie and I-“
“Worry not Valkeria”, you interrupt her, “I already know who to believe”, you look back at Jungkook, “come now Jungkook, let us leave.”
“What?” he gasps.
You pull him to his feet and away from your warriors.
“But I am telling the truth”, he insists loudly, fighting against you.
“I know”, you assure him, “but I don’t want to stay here when my own people want to hurt my guest.”
“Where, where are we going?” he stutters, stumbling after you.
“Far away from the festivities.”
Jungkook looks over his shoulder. Your warriors are looking at you and him, Valkeria carries hatred in her eyes. He smiles at her victoriously, making the anger in her eyes worsen. Then he turns to the front again, running with you.
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His love for running soon turns sour however, when he stumbles over his chains yet again, hurting his ankles in the process. You support him so he wouldn’t fall, but the pain still lingers.
“Stop running”, he hisses, ripping his hands free, “I can’t run anymore.”
You whip around, reaching for his wrists again.
“Why? We are almost there.”
“At least take off my chains.”
You look down at his feet then back into his eyes.
“Are you in pain?”
“Yes I am. They hurt me. Why are you still chaining me up?”
“Very well then, you are my guest after all. I apologize, it was long overdue, wasn’t it?” you say and he can hear a faint click from the ground. Freedom, he can feel it. His ankles don’t ache anymore.
“How is that possible?” he gasps, stumbling away from the chains, which were on his body a second ago.
“I told you they are infused with magic. They only open when I want them to and I wanted them to open.”
He takes another step back, “I’m free?” he whispers, gawking at you.
You smile and nod, stretching out your arm and offering him your hand.
“Come now, let me show you everything.”
He looks between your hand and the opened gate. You freed him. He scans his surroundings. Three guards on the walls, but none at the gate. Five banquet guests and ten horses. No wolves, none. A sturdy stick to his right and a thick metal pole to his left. He could do it, fulfill his destiny and kill you. Nobody would notice and if they did, he could flee easily. He has always been the fastest runner of them all. He looks back at you, your smile and gentle eyes and your welcoming stance. But destiny has waited for so long already, he is sure that she can wait another night. He takes a deep breath and steps closer, placing his hand into yours.
“Let’s run, just one last time.”
And then you run. You run past gawking banquet guests and worried guards, you run down stairs and climb over rocks, you run up hills and stumble through forests, you run until tears have collected in both your eyes and Jungkook tastes the night air in his throat. And then you stop, underneath a white oak tree with its bark weeping darkness, you stop.
You turn and look at him with glimmering eyes. It makes him nervous and so he looks to the side, scanning his surroundings again. The forest was tense, but carried the smell of life. Not like the Black Forest with its deathly stench. He looked at the white oak again.
“What is this place?” he asks.
“This is the tree of our ancestors Jungkook. Mine and yours”, you explain, pulling at his hands to guide him to the tree.
“The tree of our ancestors?”
“Yes. They danced beneath it, sang songs to it and nourished it until it was strong and tall”, you say and place his hand on the bark.
“Do you feel that?” you ask him.
“A heartbeat”, he whispers.
“Yes”, you squeeze his hand.
“Where is it coming from?”
“It belongs to the tree.”
“The tree?”
“Yes, the tree.”
Jungkook counts the heartbeats, having to swallow. He can feel them so clearly.
“Is…is it human?”
“No”, you laugh softly, “it is neither human nor creature. Jungkook, it is everything. Every stone you see, every grass that grows, every stream which trickles and every tree that reaches for the sun. Even the air that surrounds us and the rain on your skin.”
The heartbeat against his fingers is steady, like that of a calm, sleeping body. It overwhelms him. He feels life surge through his veins and at the same time feels his body drain. He blinks, feeling his eyes burn in tears.
“I, I don’t understand. It is a tree. How, how can it be everything?”
“Must you really know the answer or isn’t it already enough to know that everything we stand on, feel, smell, see and taste is connected?” you say, taking both his hands to turn him to you.
Even now when his hands are resting in your palms, he can feel the heartbeat on his fingertips. It lingers on his skin and burns itself into his memories. He feels changed, as if he touched life itself.  
“But how?” he breathes, “how is it possible that everything is connected?”
“Its roots of course”, you say and smile, “they reach from the Snowy Mountains in the north to the Singing River on the south border and from the Nourishing Fields in the east all the way into the deepest corners of the Black Forest in the west. It gives everything life, nourishes it, protects it from harm and talks to it.”
“Talk? The tree talks?”
You chuckle, “not like you and I would. No, it speaks in a language not many of us still know for knowing it takes a lot of time.”
He inhales shakily.
“What…what does the land talk about?” he asks quietly.
“Many things. History mostly and songs”, you look at him, “you can hear those most of the times. If you listen closely.”
“How can I listen?”
You step closer, making his heart skip a beat as you brush your lips against his ear.
“Close your eyes and listen”, you whisper.
He shivers, eyes falling closed on instinct. He doesn’t hear it at first and it makes him think that you were simply taking him for a fool. He had already wanted to open his eyes again when suddenly a gust of wind made the leaves above his head rustle. They sound like hundreds of voice whispering songs and poems. The call of an owl joins them soon and in the far distance crickets chirp the harmony. Then the cracking of a branch and the trampling of hooves as a herd of deer hurries through the safety of the high shrubs, like drums they control the tempo of the song.
He opens his eyes, allowing a single tear to roll down his cheek.
“You could hear it, couldn’t you?”
He nods his head, knitting his brows and biting down on his lower lip.
“I know how you feel. It made me cry the first time too”, you say, cupping his cheek.
He lowers his head into your touch and squeezes his eyes shut, sobbing quietly.
“I never noticed it”, he presses out.
“Noticed what?”
“The songs.”
“I see”, you drift off.
He sobs and sniffles. He feels so embarrassed for crying, not because he is crying but because he has no idea why he is crying in the first place. This tree, this place, the songs and your warming touch, it moved something inside of him. He realised how dark he lived his life. He lived out his days with his heart filled with hatred, anger and resentment when he could have closed his eyes and felt the connection everywhere. Why did he waste so much of his life resenting something, someone, when he could have spent it loving the rest?
“Do you want to see everything?” you ask him.
He opens his eyes, allowing you to brush his tears away.
“Yes”, he whispers, making you smile.
You step forward and call into the night. Jungkook is mesmerised, your song blends with the songs of the lands and gives them strength. You end the call with a sigh.
“What was that?” he asks.
“I called my friends.”
“Your friends?”
Then he can hear it. The shuffling of feet, the cracking of branches, rustling of leaves and low growling. He draws closer to you, reaching for his blade on instinct. He doesn’t have it on him, of course he doesn’t, but the instinct was still there. He stares into the darkness with held breath, stumbling back when out of it a pack of wolves step. As tall as trees and with their fur as black as the night.
“No”, he gasps, “no what, what is this?”
“Not what”, you look at him, “but who.”
They circle you and him, growling deeply with their fangs bared. You step closer, reaching your hand out. The tallest of them all with its eyes burning in a deep green, rests its nose against your palm.
“This is Woltron”, you say and Jungkook feels his blood freeze.
“You lied to me”, he gasps.
“Lied to you?” you laugh, “you must tell me what you mean for I am utterly confused.”
“You will feed me to him.”
You laugh, “oh dear Jungkook, no. I want you to meet him. Come, step closer.”
He shakes his head.
“Come.”
“No”, he takes a step back, colliding with the nose of another wolf. It growls, watching him with fiery eyes, “no, stay away!” he exclaims, fleeing in an instance. He grasps your arm, hiding behind you.
“You mustn’t be scared”, you chuckle, “they won’t eat you. Well, unless you fail their test that is.”
“Their test?”
You pull him closer until he was face to face with Woltron. Its emerald eyes were drawing him in to the point that he felt dizzy.
“You see Jungkook, they aren’t just wolves. They are gods, old gods who wandered the earth way before humans graced it. They share their memories with the tree of our ancestors, they listen to its voice and answer it in songs.”
Woltron steps so close that Jungkook could feel its hot breath on his skin.
“W-what is it doing to me?”
“He is looking into your heart to see if you carry good in it. If you do, he will allow you to live”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then he will eat you.”
“What?” Jungkook turns away and closes his eyes, “no. No, I can’t. I will be eaten alive.”
You cup his cheek and brush your thumbs over his cheekbones. It makes him open his eyes.
“Trust me”, you whisper.
He shakes his head.
“But I-I am not good. I don’t want to die.”
You smile and caress his lips.
“Trust me Jungkook.”
He exhales shakily. Your touch must be magic, he feels so reassured that he allows you to turn his head back to Woltron’s piercing gaze. You hold his hand as the wolf was gazing into his heart, caressing his knuckles and studying his fearful face. You know that he will pass. You have seen it in his eyes the moment he pressed the blade against your throat. You saw the good in him and as Woltron bows His head at Jungkook you know that He saw it too.
“What is happening?” Jungkook asks, squeezing your hand.
“He is giving you his blessing.”
“I…” he throws his hand over his mouth, “…I passed?”
“Yes.”
“But…I’m not good.”
“Yes, you are.”
Jungkook looks at you with tears in his eyes.
“You believed I was?”
“I didn’t believe it, I knew it.”
He blinks, “why? I-I’m a Raven, I’m trained to kill people like you, I pressed a blade against your throat.”
“Even if you are all those things you say that you are, your eyes are filled with good.”
“My eyes?”
“Yes, your eyes.”
You reach out, making him close his eyes in instinct. You touch his lashes softly, caressing his lids afterwards. It makes him sigh.
“Those beautiful, beautiful eyes”, you breathe and step closer, “those aren’t the eyes of a killer.”
He opens his eyes, feeling himself shiver with every single one of your touches. You smile.
“Come now, I will show you everything.”
“How?” his voice felt raspy as he spoke and so he clears it with a shy cough.
“Woltron will take us.”
“Woltron?”
The wolf rests before you and him and Jungkook watches you as you climb on its back.
“Climb on him.”
Jungkook is hesitant at first. He fears that this was all a trick of the wolf, that once he is close he will open its mouth and eat him whole. Jungkook is so sure that he wasn’t good. The wolf must be playing tricks on him.
The wolf, which nose he had bumped before, pushes him all of a sudden. Jungkook stumbles, falling against Woltron’s warm body.
“It was an accident, please don’t eat me”, he gasps, fearing for his life.
The wolf merely grumbles and waits for him patiently. You giggle, petting his hair.
“You must stop being frightened. They have already accepted you as their friend.”
Jungkook looks up. He finds it mesmerising how you sit on top of Woltron, tall and confident. He thinks that this place fits you. You smile then.
“Come join me”, you encourage him, pulling at his arm.
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Jungkook feels as if he was living in a dream. The wolf carried you and him, took the both of you through the thickness of the forest until a high mountain cut off his way and he had to climb it. He only stopped once you had reached the top. He stayed back with his pack, resting on the snow with his eyes closed. It was cold on the mountain and Jungkook felt himself shiver ever so often. His breath was visible in the air, like a little cloud it lingered in the air for as long as he exhaled.
“It is cold.”
“Are you cold?”
“A little”, he answers.
“Here”, you say and take off your shawl, “it will keep you warm.”
“But you will freeze.”
You laugh, wrapping it around his neck a few times.
“I drank enough wine to keep me warm, worry not I am a heated drunk.”
He knits his brows, deep creases appearing on his forehead.
“What is the matter? Do you not like the shawl?”
He shakes his head, “I mean yes! Yes I do, I am just so confused.”
“Confused? About what?”
“Why you offer me tenderness and why you believed me instead of Valkeria and why you haven’t slid my throat yet.”
“I must say, it makes me sad that you still think that I want to kill you”, you say and Jungkook felt himself lower his eyes in shame.
“But I know why you would think like that”, you assure him, “it is difficult to shake off old habits.”
You tug at his shawl softly to bring him closer.
“You can trust me Jungkook. I don’t want to kill you.”
Jungkook inhales, catching a sweet scent. It was coming from the shawl. It was your scent. He knows that it was your scent because this is exactly how a room began to smell whenever you entered it. It made him dizzy right now.
“Come now, I am already so excited to show you everything”, you say and take Jungkook’s hand, leading him to the edge of the plateau.
“This is our home”, you tell him, extending your arm to point at everything.
Jungkook could see everything. The Singing River in the south, the Nourishing Fields in the east, even his home, the Black Forest he could see. The land lacked colour now that the night was touching it, only the blue light of the moon gave everything colour. But it looked beautiful nonetheless.
“Is this everything?”
“Yes, this is everything.”
“This is really everything?”
“Yes”, you say and chuckle fondly, “well at least everything your eyes can see. There are countries way beyond our vision, but what you see before you is our home.”
He feels so close to tears again. He always thought his world to be so small. It reached from the east border of the Black Forest to the west border and ended by the juncture where it met the Singing River. The Nourishing Fields were nothing but a legend to him and the snowy mountains were nothing but grey phantoms in the distance. He never would have dared to even dream of one day standing on said phantoms and looking at everything.
“It is so big”, he whispers.
“Yes, it really is”, you squeeze his hand, “tell me Jungkook, where have you been already?”
He points at the Black Forest and then your castle, lowering his arm afterwards.
“I see. Mhm”, you pause to contemplate, “worry not, you still have enough time to see the rest. You must see the Singing River in summer, oh its waters are wonderful to swim in. And the Nourishing Fields, oh Jungkook you would love the colours they carry in autumn.”
“Have you been?”
“Yes, many times.”
“With Seokjin too?”
“No, he wasn’t special enough.”
“I’m special”, he whispers more to himself than to you.  
He smiles and closes his eyes to listen for the songs. The Singing River in the distance. The wind down below as it swirls through the trees. The call of an ibex and the answering call of its mate. And behind him the old gods talk to each through their wolf form. Perhaps it is the fresh air on this mountain or the thought that Seokjin wasn’t special but he is, but he thinks that the songs sound even better up here.
He opens his eyes, realising that you had been watching him. He can see the stars reflected in your eyes. You smile softly and draw closer.
“Do you understand now?”
He felt himself smile and pull you closer by your hand.
“I think, I finally do.”
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You don’t wake up at first, only when you feel coldness against your throat. It is dark in your room, but the moon gives it enough light to reveal Jungkook’s features to your eyes. He is sitting on your lap, hovering over you with one hand tightly wrapped around your wrists. He had placed them above your head, moving them turns out to be impossible.
"Jungkook?" you ask, mind foggy in sleep. That changes when the coldness against your throat moves. You widen your eyes, trying to gawk at whatever it was that bothered you. 
"What is that? What are you doing?" you ask him calmly, eyeing the sharp knife he is grasping. 
"What have you done to me?" he asks, voice shaking in emotion. 
"Nothing. What are you doing to me?" 
He presses the knife closer, squeezes your wrists. 
"I am asking the questions tonight." 
"I understand. Ask them."
"I came to kill you. What have you done to me to make me forget my destiny?”
“I showed you your real one.”
He falters and breathes shakily. He shakes his head, finding his composure again.
“I hate you. I am supposed to hate you”, he spits, pressing the knife closer, “why did you take this from me?”
“I didn’t, you just let it go.”
“Stop”, he chokes out and whimpers.
“Why are you crying?”
“I am crying because my head is foggy and it is your fault. You cursed me, witch.”
You raise your head, making the blade glide into your skin.
“Then kill me.”
He draws closer. His tears trip down on your face. He is shaking, squeezing your wrists and pressing the knife closer. He can watch one single droplet of blood taint the clean metal. He looks back into your eyes, meeting nothing but sad understanding in them. Even now when he was cutting your skin and was holding your life in his hands, you weren’t angry at him. Jungkook sobs, tilting your head up with his knife. You let him, lips curling into a reassuring smile.
“I hate you”, he chokes out.
"No you don’t", you whisper.
He whimpers, knife gliding from his fingers as he kisses you deeply. You melt into him, allowing him to taste your sigh. He squeezes his eyes shut and sobs, kissing you deeper until he is sure that nothing could separate the two of you. 
He came to kill you. He was so sure that t