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ot7always · a year ago
Oh My God, They Were (Quarantined) Roommates
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ty to my love @wwilloww​​​​ for the banner!
Word Count: 22.8k 
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: College/Roommates AU, fluff, smut
Warnings: *takes deep breath* soft dom!Jungkook, sub!reader, dirty talk, vibrator use, fingering, size kink, hair pulling, pussy slapping, degradation, praise, unprotected sex, overstimulation, creampie, multiple orgasms, cum-eating, oral (m&f receiving), marking, spanking, face-fucking, rough sex, morning sex, soft sex, body worship, teasing, rimming, ass-eating, anal fingering, butt plug use, anal sex, cumshot, aftercare (don’t stress, this isn’t all one scene fhkfdlghfd)
Rating: 18+
Summary: What do you do when you’re quarantined for months on end with Jeon Jungkook - S tier cuddler, workout robot, and thirst trap extraordinaire? Fuck him, you guess.
A/N: Here it is a day early because I finished editing it and I have approximately 0 self-control when it comes to holding my works back to post at a later date. Hopefully this doesn’t inconvenience anyone FHKFDLGHFD
I literally worked away at this fic everyday for the past 3+ weeks, and I’m so glad it’s finally here! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, and please do let me know what you think. A comment means the world to me! 
Big thank you to everyone who showed interest in this fic as I was working on it, as well as the lovely people in the BSH discord who gave me motivation to write every day along the way!
You sat on the couch of your shared apartment, scrolling mindlessly through social media once again. It wasn’t as though you had many other choices of activity. Being university students on break, the quarantine had ripped both yours and Jungkook’s summer job opportunities right from beneath you.
So here you were, month three of minimal contact with the outside world, sitting on the couch you may as well call your home within a home.
You learned very quickly that Facebook was definitely not the app of choice to pass time on, seeing as you only ended up angry at the amount of bad takes visible within the first 5 minutes of browsing. No, you chose to favour Instagram instead, seeing as you could just scroll through food porn, beautiful people, and memes for hours on end.
It definitely was not because your roommate’s thirst traps tended to dominate your feed there. Definitely not. At all.
No, you definitely were not staring at a picture of Jeon Jungkook half naked on your screen right now. His pecs were definitely not glistening, his hair was not pulled back into a messy man bun and he was not wearing grey sweatpants so tight you could see the outline of his c-
Glancing up from your phone, you confirmed that Jungkook was still across the room from you. Luckily for your self-control, he still had his clothes on as he did his bicep curls. Unluckily for you, though, he happened to be sitting down, legs spread wide. Which meant his black Adidas trackpants were stretched deliciously over his bulging thighs, the fabric moulded perfectly to his skin.
You whipped your gaze down to your phone and back onto him just one more time. Just to make sure he wasn’t looking. Finally certain he was physically unable to teleport from across the room to right over your shoulder, you allowed your thumb to hover over his username. The black text was calling out to you, fearsome and daunting. bunwithguns97. You took a deep breath. You knew what was awaiting you on the other side.
You brought your thumb down with a tap. And-
You’d made a terrible mistake. There was skin everywhere. Biceps. Abs. Thighs. Calves. Pecs. Rows and rows of them. God, how much did this kid post?
You needed to get laid. Except the only lay-able human being you could come into contact with in good conscience was the man across the room, breathily counting reps. Was that how he sounded when he-
Nope. Not going there.
You hadn’t always been this thirsty for one Mr. Jeon Jungkook. In fact, you had lived together for over a year, and been friends even longer. Of course, you’d always known of his attractiveness and his gym rat tendencies. You’d even lived for months and months with him without any issue at all. Hell, you’d even filmed some of those damn workout videos for him in the past.
But you missed people. It was nothing against Jungkook, but you missed warm touches and gentle caresses and cuddling and kissing and fucking. And yes, maybe you were at a point with Jungkook where you could sit closely and he’d think nothing of it. But god, you wanted more. You didn’t even have an excuse to hug him hello or goodbye when neither of you even left the apartment.
If you were being honest, you could feel the desire growing with time. The impulse to crawl into his lap when he lounged around in his huge comfy shirts and navy-blue sweats. To hug him from behind when he was making food on the stove. To shove your face into his freshly washed hair. You didn’t even think it had anything to do with the fact that it was Jungkook. More than anything, you just missed intimacy, missed the comfort of being wrapped up in another human being.
You sighed. Jungkook’s arms were so big, the least he could do was envelop you in them. For the good of your health and sanity.
A notification sounding into your earphones had you glancing back at your phone screen, once again met with the sight of golden skin and a startling lack of clothing. Did he think it was subtle to pull his pants down just enough to have your eyes yearning to follow the happy trail?
Right in the middle of your screen, you noticed a video you hadn’t seen yet. Not that you kept close tabs on his videos.
Checking just one more time to make sure Jungkook wasn’t looking (he was just sitting drinking water), you tapped. No going back.
When the video loaded, you were greeted by the sight of Jungkook laying on a bench, sheer white t-shirt soaked through with sweat, dumbbells held above his head. But no, that was not the deadliest thing about the video. You had, after all, seen the thumbnail.
No, the most dangerous thing was the sound directed straight into your eardrums. You wished you could say the breathless groans he let out as he brought the weights down and back up were exaggerated. But no. You could attest to the fact that he really was that... loud. And maybe that was partially the reason you would sometimes sit at the nearby table for much longer than it should take any one person to eat a meal.
You couldn't help the shiver that went down your spine at the breathless pants delivered directly to your ears with startling clarity. The loud groan not a second later had you biting down on your lip. Did he have to sound like... that? Unwilling to admit to yourself that heat did indeed flare in your lower region at the sinful noises, you quickly tapped the home button, calling off Instagram for the rest of the day. Perhaps Tumblr would actually load images for you today so you could browse there instead.
You almost pinched yourself when the noises didn't stop. Was your phone already broken?
Ripping the buds from your ears, you lifted your gaze only to be met by a sight that had your mouth dropping open. He had since stripped his top half bare, his back facing you. Only metres away, Jungkook was dangling from the pull-up bar, grunts forced from his chest as he brought himself up. His skin was ridiculously smooth, muscles rippling as he moved. The bulge of his biceps, the arch of his spine, the little moans, they were all just so close. Would it be weird to go up to him and drag your fingers along the length of his back?
Good lord. You needed a nap.
You awoke to light rapping at your bedroom door, accompanied by Jungkook's soft voice. "Y/N! Can I come in? I'm gonna order food."
You groaned at the disruption, moving to rub the sleep from your eyes. You hadn't even noticed you'd fallen asleep. Having gotten more than your daily dose of Jungkook-watching, you retired from the couch to your bed to continue your important scrolling duties in peace.
Fumbling around for your phone, you checked to find that you'd thankfully only been asleep for around 20 minutes. "Sure," you called out weakly, brain still half-foggy.
He strolled into your room, laptop in hand, but paused when he took in your sleepy form under the covers. "Sorry, I didn't think you were sleeping. I can come back later-"
"No, no, don't worry," you assured, wanting to quickly erase the wide-eyed alarm that had taken over his features. You patted the bed beside you, cracking a smile at his grin, his massive body still finding a way to bound over to your bed cutely. Oh, the duality of man.
He settled into bed beside you, laptop resting on crossed legs to show you everywhere available to order from. You leaned in, resting your head against his bicep. Purely for laptop-viewing purposes, of course. He glanced at you in surprise. While you were usually physically affectionate with some of your friends, he didn't think he was one of them.
He suppressed a smile at the sight of you in the corner of his eye. You still looked half-asleep, eyes blinking heavily, a slight pout decorating your face as you looked at the screen. Cute, he thought.
As muscular as he was, you were startled to find that he was actually quite comfortable to lay against. Unless that was the lack of recent comparison talking.
“What did you want to get?” you mumbled, adjusting yourself against Jungkook to get more comfortable. He was always incredibly warm for some reason. He must have taken a shower while you were asleep, the faint citrus scent of his shampoo evident whenever he shifted.
“I was thinking maybe Thai. Or Japanese?”
You hummed your agreement, eyes shuttering closed. You had gotten up earlier than usual to call with a friend across the planet, the lack of sleep finally seeming to have caught up to you.
“I opened up the usual places. Did you want to decide-” he started, but cut himself off when he felt your head slump forward. He turned, taking in the peaceful expression on your face, your breaths quiet and even. He felt a pang of guilt flow through him. He should have let you rest, knowing how little sleep you'd gotten.
Using his one free arm, he quickly placed your usual order at the Thai place 10 minutes away, shutting his laptop once done. Hopefully you weren’t harbouring the need to spontaneously change the same order you’d been getting since he met you.
Not wanting to disturb you, he slowly and carefully pulled his phone from his pocket, resigning himself to the fact that he would be sitting in the same position for half an hour at minimum. But he couldn’t bring himself to move. You weren’t exactly known to be a heavy sleeper, and he doubted his ability to extract himself without waking you up.
And... maybe he liked it a little bit.
It had been so long since he’d had someone close like this, the fact that you felt comfortable enough to sleep next to him creating an unexplainable warmth in his chest. Would it be weird if he tucked you under your arm to bring you closer? He was certain it would be more comfortable for you than simply resting against his arm.
Recognizing that it might be strange to stare at his roommate who only accidentally fell asleep on him, he shot his gaze away. Electing to focus on his phone instead, he opened up Instagram, grin lighting up his face as he scrolled through the comments on his most recent selfie. After scrolling through what had to be over 100 comments (majority of which included the eggplant emoji), he jumped at the sound of the buzzer ringing through the apartment earlier than expected.
The noise had you blearily blinking your eyes open, taken aback when the sight in front of you didn’t include restaurant choices on Jungkook’s laptop. When you realized your room was significantly darker than you remembered, embarrassment ran through you.
“Did I fall asleep?”
“Yup!” came his oddly-chipper reply, Jungkook pulling away from you to walk towards the front door.
You followed him out, grabbing hold of the laptop he’d left behind. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“It seemed like you needed it.”
His response had you pause, momentarily caught off guard. As much as you were good friends who talked daily, you didn’t realize he paid attention to you that closely. Nor did you realize he wouldn’t find it awkward to have you that close.
“Thanks,” you shot him a shy smile, returned by one of his own. Why did this feel so awkward? You didn’t usually think twice about using your friends as a pillow. What made Jungkook any different? The fact that he was your roommate? The fact that he was one of the most attractive men you’d ever seen in your life?
You set up the living room as he grabbed the food, settling into your usual place on the couch. When he joined you, setting your favourite noodle bowl in front of you, your eyes lit up, mouth salivating.
“God, you know you’re my favourite person in the whole world?” you breathed, the day’s hunger hitting you all at once. All former awkwardness was forgotten as you lifted the lid from your dinner as if unearthing a sacred treasure.
“Aren’t I the only other person in your world right now?” he laughed, digging into his own food without further ado.
“Take the compliment,” you pouted before following suit. Normally, you would have set up something to watch on the TV, but you were far too hungry to focus on anything else. To be honest, you couldn’t even remember what time you’d last eaten. Time seemed to pass differently when you spent all day, every day at home.
It wasn’t long before you’d both finished eating, room quiet except for the clinking of chopsticks and slurping of noodles. It was a comfortable silence, one that you were more than used to after living together so long. Both of you loved food a bit too much to waste time talking when you could be eating while the meal’s hot.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” you asked, dinner having been eaten and cleaned up. It was tradition by now that you two would sit here after dinner to chat, watch TV, or game. At least one good thing that had come out of this quarantine was that you’d been able to grow a lot closer to each other, now somewhere between “friends” and “best friends.” You thanked the heavens every day that you were stuck with someone who meshed with you so well.
“Sure. What are we feeling?” he replied, opening up Netflix on his laptop nearby. You’d need to send a personal thank you to Netflix for continuing to add new content so often for how much you lived on their website.
“Anything’s fine. I trust that your taste isn’t awful,” you teased.
“It isn’t!”
“I know. Relax, big guy.” You patted his shoulder, giggling at the affronted look on his face, pout threatening to take over. It was at that moment you realized how firm that shoulder really was. It really did seem that every inch of his body was laced with muscle. Did he make a sacrifice to some god so he could be both rock hard and comfortable to lay on? Sure, seeing him shirtless was one thing, but touching was another. And like hell if you weren’t going to take every opportunity for touch you could get right now. You squeezed gently before you could talk yourself out of it, amazed when the flesh barely gave beneath your fingers.
“Wow... are you, like... ripped everywhere?” Wh-
Why did you say that? Did they slip alcohol into your noodles? Has it just been scientifically proven that lack of physical contact deletes brain cells? As you opened your mouth to backtrack, change the topic, scream, anything - you were cut off by the sound of Jungkook’s soft laughter.
“I don’t know, Y/N. Am I?”
You furrowed your brow, pulling away from him slightly. “Huh?”
“Wouldn’t you know better than me?”
“Excuse me, sir. What is that supposed to mean?”
“You’re the one who lurks on my Instagram.”
You were sure you were gaping like a fish right about now, Jungkook looking like he’s won at life. “I do not lurk on your Instagram!”
“That’s not what Yoongi told me.”
“WHAT!?” You were going to kill that man. To tell something to your best friend in confidence and have him betray you like this. While you were busy fuming, it appeared that Jungkook pulled up a conversation on his phone.
“’Hey kid, can you do something so Y/N can stop texting me about how thirsty she is? Either put a shirt on or f-’”
“Hey!” he interjected, grabbing at your wrists to stop you from turning away. When you directed what you hoped was an angry glance his way, you felt heat shoot to your face at the sight of him still chuckling.
Yanking a hand from his grip, you used it to poke aggressively into his chest. His very, very, firm chest. That you’d seen numerous times. The chest that was golden and perfect and crafted from marble-
“Look here, Jeon Jungkook,” you started, head held high. “This has nothing to do with you and everything to do with the fact that you are just a human being.”
“Are you sure those things are mutually exclusive?”
“Shut up! As you know, these are very trying times. Times where we need to get used to new normals. Times never before seen.”
“Are you aware that you sound like a Spotify ad?”
“And I am doing my best to adjust!” you raised your voice, hoping to tune out Jungkook and his witty responses and his still laughing face. “But you see, I am but a feeble human myself, just a lone creature in a big world. A slave to the limitations of humanity.”
“I have literally no idea where you’re going with this, but please, continue.”
“Jungkook, did you know there is a real biological consequence for a lack of human touch? Because I didn’t. But because of Google, now I do. Did you know touch is one of the best ways to relieve stress? Did you know touch helps to remove stress hormones?”
“I did, actually, I took anatomy-”
“And I am stressed! I am suffering! I haven’t been held by another human being in 3 months! Three months! Do you know what that feels like?
“Our experiences are quite literally the same-”
“I am going crazy! Can you blame me for being attracted to an attractive man? The attractive man in my house? Can you!?” Your breaths were coming out in pants, finally out of air after your little tangent.
“...So do you want, like, a hug?”
“Yes, I want a hug! I’ve never wanted a hug more in my entire life! I feel so lonely-”
You were abruptly cut up by Jungkook’s chest colliding with your face, his arms coming around your back to hold you snugly to him. While you’d momentarily tensed up in surprise, you wrapped your arms around him in return, nuzzling your face into his chest. And if anyone asked, no, you did not make a noise somewhere between a groan and a whimper at the first hug you’ve had in what felt like years.
You just knew he would give incredible hugs. Nobody could be that big and wear such soft clothes and have such soft hair and smell faintly of vanilla and lavender and not give amazing hugs.
You didn’t know how long you stood there like that, but what you did know is that you didn’t want it to end. You let yourself melt into his embrace, eyes closed, simply basking in his warmth. You couldn’t help the tiny hum you let out when his hand rose from your waist to cradle your head.
“You know you could’ve just hugged me this whole time, right?” he said, voice low and close to your ear. You tried not to shudder at the sudden intimacy of the situation.
“I was afraid of making things awkward,” you mumbled into his chest, slightly peeved at the interruption to the best thing you’ve experienced in ages.
When he started pulling away from you, you made a noise of protest, tightening your hold so he couldn’t leave. You felt, rather than heard, the rumble of laughter in his chest.
“Come sit,” he instructed, tugging you over to the couch. It was a bit of a messy shuffle considering you wouldn’t let him put more than an inch of distance between you. However, it was all worth it when you settled curled up in his lap, face tucked into his neck. You laid there together in silence for several minutes, his slow breathing easing you slowly toward dreamland.
“I missed having this too, you know,” he said lowly, muffled partially by the fact that he had his face pushed into your hair.
“You smell good,” you muttered sleepily, brushing your nose along the smooth skin of his neck. The soft touch brought goosebumps to his skin, his neck arching imperceptively in search of more attention. Truly, if he knew you wanted – no, needed, to cuddle that bad, it would have happened already. Especially when he wanted this just as bad as you seemed to.
“You’re cute.” He breathed a laugh at your antics over the past 20 minutes or so. All he wanted was to tease you a bit, wanted to watch you flounder for a response. He didn’t expect to get yelled at about human needs, and certainly didn’t expect to end up here. Here, with his roommate in his lap, your slow breaths gentle against his skin. You let out a tiny noise of content when he sunk his hand into your hair to scratch lightly at your scalp.
It didn’t take long for him to notice that you had fallen asleep like this, your body completely limp against his. He really didn’t have it in him to wake you up, not when you seemed more at ease than you had in weeks. He’d known you were having a tough time dealing with the frustration and lack of productivity that came from quarantine, and part of him wished he’d known it would’ve been this easy to make it better for you.
So, as much as he wanted to tease you, he understood. The comfort he felt having the weight of your body on his was proof enough that he understood. Now that he thought about it, you had always been a subtly touchy person. Casually leaning on everyone, grabbing onto your friends’ elbows when walking side by side... it was no wonder the loss of all that affected you.
Settling back comfortably into the couch, he let his eyes flutter shut, shifting until his head was properly supported. If you were going to nap, he figured he might as well nap too. It wasn’t as though the options for activities with a grown adult moulded to your front were very broad.
It was with the warmth of you laid against him, your head tucked neatly into the space between his shoulder and neck, that he fell into the most restful sleep he’d had in months.
Jungkook’s escape from slumber came in several stages. First, the slow rise to consciousness, the dark fog receding from his brain. Then, the subtle stretch of his limbs, shifting to release the stiffness. With this came the realization of the weight on top of him. Wait-
Eyes whipping open in panic, his gaze darted around the room before settling on the sight of you in the exact same position as earlier, the memory rushing back. The way you’d so passionately shared your case for why you found him attractive. The way you practically melted into his embrace soon after, the notion of your bodies disconnecting too ridiculous to fathom.
There was a faint sheen of light cast over the living room, a stark difference to the pitch black of the sky he last remembered. Reaching out to grab his discarded phone, he was startled to find that it was 5:30 in the morning – you two had slept the whole night away.
“Y/N,” he called out softly, rubbing nonsensical patterns into your back. It was only moments later that you let out a quiet groan, shifting within his hold. It was unsurprising – you were always notoriously easy to wake up.
“You’re comfy,” you mumbled, making no effort to move from Jungkook’s lap. He was warm, firm yet comfortable, and most importantly, the first person you’ve been able to cuddle with in months. No, there was no way you were moving on your own accord.
“You’re cute,” he responded, trying and failing to stifle the laughter escaping his chest. He was expecting you to complain about his teasing, but you only moved to wrap your previously-limp arms around his waist.
“Can we do this again?” you asked, a twinge of fear making its way into your voice, your hold on him tightening. What would you do if he said no? Would you need to make this one night last for another 3 months? You tensed, prepared to take his rejection.
“Of course we can do this again.”
You pulled away from him, surprised at his lack of hesitation. “Really?” you asked, your wide eyes meeting his sleepy ones.
“It’s not like I didn’t enjoy this. I need it too.” Boy, did he ever.
“Promise?” You stuck out your pinky finger, the look on your face alarmingly serious.
He had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing, but brought his pinky to wrap around yours. He tried not to think about how small your hands were in comparison. “Promise.”
With that, a smile took over your face, mood completely turned around. You hopped off your newfound body pillow, mind feeling lighter than ever before. “I’m gonna go shower. I’ll make breakfast when I come back!” You made your way to your room, the slightest skip in your step.
With you finally out of sight, he allowed the chuckles to break free, hand raising to run his fingers through his hair. He couldn’t help the blush that rose to his cheeks at the memory of your body and all its softness right up against him.
Fuck, you were cute.
And thus began your... odd relationship. Well – odd at first. You’d quickly become accustomed to holding each other close, exchanging casual hugs over the course of the day. At night, you huddled together on the couch, sometimes falling asleep there and waking up cozy, but with sore necks. Weeks went by with your newfound routine, your mood lifting more and more as the days went by.
There was only one unspoken rule.
You never brought it to your rooms. Why? You didn’t know. Neither of you had ever suggested it, and so your sometimes-horizontal cuddling sessions remained on the couch. Neither of you knew why your bedrooms would be strangely off-limits, but something just felt too intimate about sharing a bed. Somehow more intimate than what you already did together.
Maybe it was for the best. Maybe it would put a hamper on the dwindling of your self-control, made worse by the press of Jungkook’s hard body against your own.
Yes, you told him quite ardently that you only creeped his profile and complained of his attractiveness because of your lack of human contact.
So why were you still sitting on the couch right this instant, scrolling through his Instagram?
Well, the answer to that was simple: you were still a thirsty bitch. Maybe your need for cuddling was quenched, but it didn’t change the fact that you hadn’t gotten good dick in ages. Your vibrator and fingers could only do so much. And, well, who could blame you for getting more and more horny for a man who not only had a beautiful body, but has also proved his talent in cuddling?
You’d need to check if there was a scientific explanation for this, too.
He kept calling you cute, right? And you knew for a fact that were multiple occasions where he’d called you attractive, occasions where you’d dressed up for the club and he’d comment on how good you looked. There had to be something there, right? How hard would it be to convince him to fuck you into next y-
Jungkook’s voice ringing through your apartment shocked you out of your thoughts, your phone falling from your hand to the cushion below. What were you thinking? If your past self saw you here fantasizing about fucking your roommate, she would slap you.
“Yeah?” you called out in response, rising from the couch to make your way towards his voice. Where was he? You hadn’t been paying very close attention to what he was doing, and so you made your way towards his bedroom. When you saw that his door was open and he wasn’t there, you paused.
“Can you grab me a towel?”
Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no.
When you’d so kindly decided to throw Jungkook’s towel in with your own when you went to do laundry, you didn’t expect this as a consequence. You didn’t expect the gods to be testing you yet again, and yet there you were, grabbing a towel from the linen closet and taking deep breaths in preparation.
The bathroom door was unlocked, your hand slowly reaching out to grab hold and turn it.
“I’m coming in, yeah?”
This was anything but okay. You turned the knob. The mere thought that Jungkook in all his naked, muscled, wet glory would be separated from you only by a foggy glass door had your heart racing. You stepped into the room, your gaze immediately going to the shower stall, and-
Holy fuck.
The blurry silhouette of Jungkook you expected to receive was definitely not what you got. No, he must take cooler showers than you because fuck.
Your view of him was almost entirely unobstructed, the minimal fog doing nothing to hinder your vision of his backside. Thank god his back was turned to you, because you didn’t know what you would do if he saw you gaping right now. His wide shoulders tapered to a tiny waist, his ass firm, thighs huge – fuck. How were you ever going to get this image out of your head?
“Leave it on the counter?” came Jungkook’s calm voice, completely oblivious to the fact that you were shamelessly ogling his naked body. Was he aware you could see through the door perfectly? Did he care?
“I-you-right!” you stammered, tossing the towel onto the counter and hightailing your way out of there, slamming the door on your way out.
You went straight to your room, shutting the door behind you and quickly making your way to your nightstand drawer. You pulled out your bullet vibrator, your new best friend since quarantine had started. The heat between your legs was only growing, and you refused to sit there and do nothing about it.
Tossing the vibrator to the bed and shedding your clothes, you climbed onto the mattress, adjusting yourself until you were lying comfortably on your back. You had no intention of drawing this out - you needed relief, and you needed it now. Lest you jump a certain person whose name begins with ‘J’ and ends with ‘ungkook.’
You spread your legs without further ceremony, fingers dipping into your folds immediately. A shiver shot up your spine at the contact, and you had half a mind to be embarrassed at the slickness you found there. Fuck Jungkook and the effect he had on you and his perfect body and his beautiful voice and his stupid existence. Why couldn’t you have been quarantined with someone who wasn’t literally the most immaculate being on the entire planet? Would that have made things easier or harder?
Your pointer finger rose to lightly brush against your clit, your spine arching at the rush of pleasure that flooded your veins. You bit your lip as you started making harder circles around the bud, your hips rising to push closer to the source of your pleasure. Breaths beginning to come out in pants, you brought your other hand down to run through your folds, your arousal more than enough to coat your fingers.
You let out a low whine as you pushed two fingers inside, your walls warm and wet, clenching at the intrusion. You were already impossibly wet, the thrusting of your fingers met with no resistance, your movements on your clit only quickening. As good as it felt, you needed more.
You groaned as you slipped in a third finger, the stretch glorious as you scissored your fingers inside, your eyes slamming shut. As much as the stretch that came was satisfying, your mind couldn’t help but to wander to someone else’s hands. Hands that held your waist so assuredly, hands that made you feel so small in their hold. Hands that were so much bigger than yours, that could fill you up so much better, fingers that could stretch you wide in preparation for something more. Hands that were more than strong enough to just hold you down and take.
Your walls clenched at the thought, a new rush of wetness soaking your fingers. Euphoria rising, the familiar twist in your abdomen inched closer and closer, and you were eager to get the most out of your pleasure. Removing the hand from your clit, you reached blindly at your sheets beside you, clenching in anticipation when you finally wrapped your fingers around your vibrator.
Patience dwindling, you flicked the power on quickly. Pressing it against your bud, your hips bucked up in response, heat flowing through you in waves as the vibrations spurred new wetness in you. You allowed moans to fall freely from your mouth as you fucked yourself on your fingers, your body creeping closer and closer to the precipice.
When you shifted the toy against you, metal hitting your clit more directly, your orgasm hit you all at once. The pleasure filled up your veins, your walls clamping down on your fingers like a vise as a loud whine escaped your chest. You rode out the waves until the bliss turned to discomfort, tossing the vibrator onto your sheets and removing your fingers with a hiss.
It was when you came down from your high, breaths evening out, eyes blinking open, that the realization of what just happened hit you all at once.
Did you really rush to your room to get yourself off after seeing Jungkook’s naked backside?
Did you really fantasize about his thick fingers thrusting into you while you lost yourself to his touch?
Was heat really returning between your legs again at the notion?
Frantic footsteps sounding through the hallway followed by Jungkook’s bedroom door slamming broke you free from your thoughts, mind freezing at the sound.
He couldn’t have just come from the bathroom. He should have been out of the bathroom less than 5 minutes after your departure – it didn’t take that long to dry off and get dressed.
You were certain you’d left the bathroom at least 15 minutes ago.
The kitchen and living room were in the opposite direction from where you heard him walking.
So, where was he?
After dinner that same day, you were laying on the couch with Jungkook, as per usual these nights. You were both lying down, your body entirely on top of him, head resting against his chest, eyes in the direction of the television. You could hear his strong yet calm heartbeat in your ear, the sound along with his warm hand on your waist bringing to you a sense of tranquility.
But, still, there wasn’t enough peace that could distract you from the hard planes of Jungkook’s body pressed up against you. The firm muscles of his thighs and calves pressed against you where you’d tangled your legs together, the ridges of his abdomen pressed against yours.
You’d thoroughly convinced Jungkook to watch the Hamilton movie with you. Considering you’d already watched it by yourself twice as soon as it dropped, you figured it would be nice to share your passion with someone else.
He was surprisingly more receptive than you’d anticipated, never having pegged him for a musicals fan. Maybe when he was locking himself up in his room to “game” he was really watching Disney movies. You were truly proud of him. He laughed at all the right parts, sighed at others. Yes, you were checking.
But if you were being honest, you had to admit that you were paying more attention to Jungkook than you were the show. Considering you knew the entire show by heart after all these years, you were sure you could be forgiven. It seemed there had reached a point in your “relationship” where the relief at human touch was overtaken by the need to be touched elsewhere, more intimately.
You were doing fine, controlling your brain to the best of your ability perfectly well. That was, until Say No to This. You should have seen your demise coming when Jasmine Cephas Jones’s sultry voice rang through the room, the mood shifting almost imperceptively.
Was this really what happened when you went so long without getting laid?
The bass playing in the background settled over the room, and you became painfully aware of Jungkook’s breaths moving his body against yours. You gripped his shirt a little bit tighter, your body tensing against his. Were you truly hearing the quickening of his heart, or was that just your imagination?
You stared at the screen, determined to tough this out. You were sure you’d forget all about this once you were crying later.
But when they sat on that chair together, bodies moving together, faces screwed up in mock-pleasure – you couldn’t help the rush of desire that went through you. It wasn’t weird to want that when you were seeing it on screen in front of you, right? Your reaction was completely normal, right? It didn’t help that you didn’t even feel fully sated from earlier – Jungkook’s presence made sure of that.
When you shifted your hips in search of some semblance of relief, you paused when nails dug into your back, air rushing from Jungkook’s lungs. It was at that moment you realized you’d practically ground your hipbone into his crotch, the bulge pressing against you. His breaths were quickening, an audible exhale leaving him when he shifted himself against you.
He was horny too. The proof was literally right in front of you.
Overcome by a surge of bravery, you reached out to pause the movie, pulling back to stare Jungkook in the eye. He stared at you wide-eyed at your sudden movement, his pupils dilated, a slight blush dusting his cheekbones.
“Hey, uh – listen, I’ve been reading again,” you began, scanning his face quickly for any reaction. When you were only met by confusion, you continued.
“So, uh, as you know,” you paused to take a deep breath, praying you’d get a hold of yourself and stop stumbling over your words. “Stress hormones are bad. They, uh, do a lot of things that aren’t good for you.”
Was it possible to sound dumber than this?
“I mean... yes, that’s true?” he replied, sounding dumbfounded. You didn’t blame him.
“And touch is a good way to get rid of stress. As we know. Something-tocin, and all that.”
“Right. Anyway, do you know what else increases oxytocin?”
“Lots of things increase oxytocin-”
“Sex!” you practically yelled, eyes flying around the room so you could avoid Jungkook’s eyes that were probably looking at you like you were insane. “Sex increases oxytocin! And we’re both adults here, so why shouldn’t we optimize our oxytocin levels?”
“Are you propositioning me?” he asked, attempting to keep the laughter from his tone.
“...Maybe?” You refused to look back in his direction. Your heart was beating so crazily, you were surprised it hadn’t leaped out of your throat. You could feel your palms getting sweatier and sweatier where they were placed against Jungkook’s chest, nerves only increasing with time.
This was the worst idea you’d ever had. How did this happen? Why didn’t you just know how to shut up?
“Okay, never mind, can we pretend this didn’t happen? I think I’m getting sick or something, don’t mind me,” you awkwardly chuckled, moving to climb off Jungkook and retreat to your room for the rest of eternity.
But the arms around your waist didn’t let you.
“What, your vibrator isn’t good enough for you anymore?”
Your eyes snapped to his face in shock, unsure if you were hearing correctly. He was just speaking generally – right? But when you were met by Jungkook’s eyes, expression dark, his pupils dilated enough that you could barely see the brown of his iris, a shiver went down your spine. You couldn’t help the tiny noise that left you at the sight.
“I-What?” you stammered.
His hand traced its way down your arm before picking your hand up in his own, turning it around as if to inspect it. “These little hands aren’t doing it for you anymore? Kitten’s so desperate for cock to fill her up, hm?”
It was as if staring at him in shock was the only thing you were capable of. You couldn’t help but to feel naked under his stare, his normally-soft gaze piercing through you.
“Isn’t that right?” he goaded.
Would it really be that easy? You really didn’t know what your brain was thinking when you brought this up, but it certainly wasn’t his unhesitating consent or his current behaviour. You felt feverish, the thought of where this was heading shooting heat through your veins. You eventually collected yourself enough to make a weak noise of affirmation.
“Sorry, kitten, what was that?”
The fog only took over your brain more and more as you looked at Jungkook’s hand enveloping your own, his own so much veinier, so much thicker. You swallowed harshly.
“I need it.”
“Need what?”
“Need your cock.”
It was as if you’d flipped a switch in him, his hands tightening on you as his mouth surged toward your own. It only took a moment of surprise before you were surrendering yourself to his kiss, your lips parting to let him in further. You arched against him to pull yourself impossibly closer, gasping when he pressed his teeth into the cushion of your lower lip.
The relief and joy you felt in that moment was like the glorious rain after a long drought, the first melt of snow after a long winter.
You were more than happy like this, but when you shifted your hips to grind your clothed centre against his, you both groaned open-mouthed into the kiss. You could feel that he was already half-hard in his sweatpants. The knowledge that his willing cock was so close to your needy cunt erased your mind of any thoughts that weren't of him. When you dragged your covered clit against him again you keened, the pleasure incredible despite the barriers between you.
He let out a low chuckle at your actions, his head pulling back, a hand dipping lower to aggressively palm at your ass. “So needy... one orgasm isn’t enough for you, huh?”
When he spotted your frozen features, he only grinned.
“Fuck, you really do sound so sweet...” he reminisced, the hand on your ass moving to cup your heat, but his fingers weren’t close enough to provide the pressure to your clit you wanted so badly. He ground his hand against you, taking pleasure in the way you desperately tried to inch him closer and closer to your bundle of nerves.
“I didn’t even mean to hear you today, you know? But you were so loud, sounded so needy... what were you thinking about, kitten?” He punctuated his question by finally moving his fingers to rub against your clit, the firm circles having you buck your hips into him. You let out a wanton whine as you ground your hips even further into his hand, your eyes fluttering shut, head tipped forward as you focused only on his touch.
When that same hand delivered a blow to your clothed pussy, you gasped. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt you, but enough to shock you and catch your attention. “Answer me.”
“Y-You,” you stuttered, head rolling against his chest at his continued ministrations on your clit. Your underwear was sticking to you uncomfortably, and you were almost certain he was able to feel your arousal even through the fabric of your shorts.
His other hand wound its way into your hair close to your scalp, tugging firmly to bring your eyes up to his. The pleasure-laced stinging wrought from the tug brought goosebumps to your flesh, your teeth biting into your swollen bottom lip to ground you.
“Me?” he smirked, pride flowing through him when he saw the hazy look in your eyes and felt the way you pushed back against his hand in your hair, offering up your throat. “What about me?”
“Your hands...” you breathed, embarrassment gone out the window now that you were under his touch, under his control.
“What about them?”
“Thinking about how good they’d fill me up, so much better than mine. So much bigger.”
He didn’t give a response right away, instead digging his fingers into your waistband, yanking your shorts and panties down in one go. The fabric got stuck at your thighs, but neither of you cared the moment he ran his fingers through your sodden folds, his other hand gripping your ass.
“Ah, you already came once today and you’re this wet for me again? Does everyone else know how much of a whore you are?”
“Only for you,” you moaned, pushing back against his fingers as if it would force him to slip them inside you. You shoved your face into the crook of his neck, your lips messily kissing at the skin there. You needed to feel him inside of you so badly, the shifting of your hips not stopping until he forced them down.
“You’re so greedy,” he mocked, smirking when you keened at just the press of his fingertips against your entrance. “But it’s okay, I’ll take care of you.”
He eased a single finger into you easily, your arousal making it incredibly easy. But his one finger felt nearly as big as two of yours, the thought having you bite into his neck. He grunted at your harsh actions, slipping a second finger into you in response.
The stretch ignited something in you, even moreso when he scissored his fingers inside you. You arched your back, your hands burying themselves in Jungkook’s messy hair as you moaned out.
“Mm, you’re so tight... are you sure you can handle my cock?”
“I can, please...” you pleaded, Jungkook hissing when you tightened your grip in his hair.
But your hands went slack when he added a third finger, the burning stretch making you wince. The fullness only got more overwhelming when he started thrusting lightly.
“So big,” you whimpered, your hands moving to dig your nails into his abdomen.
“Shh, look at me...” he gently prodded, his fingers deep inside you at a standstill.
When you tilted your head up to fix your needy gaze onto his, you expected him to kiss you. Instead, he moved his mouth towards your ear, his hot breath on your neck making you shiver.
“Relax,” he whispered, his sultry voice right in your ear making you whimper. He immediately started kissing down your neck, suckling lightly at the tender spot just above your collarbone. With his low voice and gentle kisses, you gradually let go of the tension in your body. When he felt it, he started thrusting his fingers slowly, working you open as he continued pressing his soft lips to your neck.
The discomfort quickly bled into pleasure, a gush of wetness coating his fingers as you clenched around him.
“That’s it,” he hissed when you started moaning louder and louder, the sound vulgar as he thrusted his fingers into you harder and harder. You saw stars when he scissored all 3 fingers apart within you, the stretch making you feel deliciously full. You felt so wet under his touch, the glide of his fingers within you easy.
You traced your hands down Jungkook’s body, sliding a hand beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, startled when you wrapped your fingers around his hard cock immediately. No underwear? When you took in the feeling of him in your hand, you clenched around his fingers.
“Fuck, you’re huge,” you moaned, pumping it within your grasp. He let out a strangled whine when you smeared the precum from the tip, using it to quicken your motions. The thought of him inside you had you grinding down onto his fingers, but he slipped them out of you before you could do much more.
“Bend over the couch,” he commanded, pushing you upwards and off of him. His voice was husky and laced with want, his eyes bleeding into yours.
Eager to finally get stuffed with cock, you did as he said, resting your upper body against the backrest, your head lolling over the back. You made sure to arch your back, shoving your dripping cunt out in full view. You heard him groan at the sight.
“You listen so well for me,” he praised, trailing fingers down your back, pressing lightly to encourage you to arch further. “Just how badly do you need cock?”
“So bad, Jungkook, please,” you begged, the knowledge that he was behind you, just watching you spread out for him raising your arousal to new heights.
When you felt the head of his cock smearing through your wetness, you could’ve cried. Your grip on the couch increased tenfold, your chest heaving.
“Please, Jungkook, please!”
“Shh... I’ve got you, okay?” he soothed, rubbing circles into your back before dropping a chaste kiss to your shoulder.
You almost cried out again before you felt him pushing in, your walls gripping the head of his cock with fervor. When he pushed in further, you whimpered lowly. Despite taking his fingers not minutes ago, the stretch of his cock burned, your entrance feeling as though it was at its limit.
He drew in close to you, your back plastered to his front. Brushing the hair from your face, he leaned in to press feathery kisses to your face and neck.
“How are we doing?” he prodded gently, his hips shifting slightly only to hug you closer.
“So-So big,” you panted, the area between your thighs feeling like it was on fire.
“Can you take it?” Not pushing, not pressuring. An honest question, concern lacing his voice as he stroked your skin. His care for you summoned a warmth in your chest.
“I want it, please,” you pleaded, hand reaching back to tangle into his hand and pull him closer.
“You beg so nicely,” he hummed into your ear, his hand dropping to rub circles into your clit. The sudden assault to your bundle of nerves made you gasp, your hips pushing yourself further onto his cock.
Your discomfort didn’t last much longer with his ministrations on your bud, his mouth sucking bruises into the supple skin of your neck. You released a long, drawn-out whine when he pulled himself from you, only to slowly push further inside.
You swore you could feel every ridge of his cock inside you as he thrusted gently, tiny moans coming from his mouth. When he bottomed out you both gasped, both of his hands moving to simply grip your waist and pull you close. His panting near your ear had you clenching around him suddenly, the obvious effect you had on him only increasing the heat flooding your veins.
You felt so deliciously full, the sensation mind-numbing. You shut your eyes, your thoughts only of him and every place on your body where he touched you. When he ground his hips against you slightly, your walls squeezed him reflexively.
He choked out a loud moan. “Fuck, you feel so good around me,” he whined, neediness filling his voice. His noises only increased in volume when he started thrusting shallowly. “So wet for me, fuck.”
He was so unapologetically vocal, his voice so sweet, so affected, right into your ear. It drove you crazy, your hips grinding back onto him as you moaned.
He continued his shallow thrusts, your mouth letting out little noises as he fucked you open so well. When he pulled all the way out only to slam himself in to the base, you whined loudly, the breath utterly knocked out of your lungs.
You should have known what was coming when Jungkook moved a hand to grip at the back of the couch, only inches from your own. You didn’t realize his purpose until his hips snapped towards yours, his cock pistoning inside you to send your mind reeling.
It felt like he was splitting you open in the best way possible, his cock brushing against every nook and cranny inside you until you felt like you were splitting at the seams. When his other hand dropped down to rub firm circles onto your clit, the pleasure mounted quickly, the bliss filling your veins until you felt like you were going to burst.
“Fuck, I’m gonna-” he cut himself off with a breathy whine, “Gonna cum, I want to feel you cum around me.”
His thrusts turned quicker, sloppier, as he approached his end, his desperation combined with the nonstop motion of his hand tipping you over the edge. Moans fell from your open mouth as your walls convulsed around him, squeezing him tightly. Tiny sparks flew across your closed eyelids, all conscious thought succumbing to the pleasure he gave you.
The tight grip your cunt had on him broke down the last of his resilience, Jungkook thrusting shallowly as he released inside you with a loud groan.
The room was silent except for the pants coming from both of you, Jungkook’s hands caging you in against the back of the couch. You barely registered the sloppy, open-mouthed kisses he was leaving against the side of your neck. Your body felt as though it was floating, aftershocks still leaving your muscles trembling.
You hummed when he slipped out of you, your body still limp over the back of the couch. But when fingers shoved their way inside you, stroking against your sensitive walls, you cried out.
“We can’t be making a mess of the couch, now can we?”
It was all you could do to moan in response, his fingers within you too distracting. His digits were thrusting quickly inside of you, filthy sounds filling the room as they passed through your combined juices. Everything felt so sensitive after your orgasm, every touch of him inside you amplified.
You didn’t think much of it when Jungkook pulled away, no longer flush against you. But you must have screamed when he removed his fingers from you only to replace them with his tongue.
“Jungkook, fuck-” you moaned, putty in his hands as he held your legs spread, his tongue moving fervently within you. When he moaned right against your folds, the vibrations sent goosebumps down your flesh. The fact that he was licking his own cum from your cunt felt so dirty, your legs trembling from the effort of holding your body up. It was fucking disgusting, and you loved it.
He circled a hand around to your front, fingers making light contact with your clit. Despite your oversensitivity, it felt so good, so overwhelming, and you nearly crested again not long after.
“So-so close,” you cried, feeling the tightening of your abdomen as your orgasm approached. When he pulled back his hand to deliver a harsh smack right to your clit, your release hit you all at once. You couldn’t even make noises as the waves of pleasure hit, Jungkook moaning in response as he lapped up your juices.
He didn’t stop until you whined, attempting to shift away from him.
When he finally moved from you, he tugged your panties and shorts back into place – they'd barely made it to your knees in your desperation. You stayed in place, still winded from your activities.
When the full realization of what you’d just done hit you, you didn’t regret it as much as you thought you would. You had sex with Jungkook. Your roommate. Who you’d be stuck with for many more weeks to come.
And it was incredible. You didn’t know if you’d ever felt so sated. If you have, it’s definitely been a very long time since then.
You grumbled when he tugged you from the back of the couch, lowering your feet to the floor. You stumbled slightly at the sudden need to support your own weight, stabilized only by Jungkook hugging you tightly from behind.
“Come to my room?” he asked, resting his chin on your shoulder. You didn’t know how he made it sound so casual, as if he didn’t just fuck you with his fat cock then eat his own cum back out of you.
“Okay,” you agreed without hesitation, the thought of laying against Jungkook in a warm bed absolutely enticing.
He abruptly spun you around and bent to pick you up. You yelped, legs tightening around his hips as you stuck your face into his neck.
“I can walk,” you humphed, though in all honesty you were more than happy to be doted on.
“We both know you love this,” he chuckled, making his way into his room. You tried not to huff at the fact that you definitely wouldn’t be able to fool him of all people. Not when you’d always cling to him like a baby to its mother. You’d always been a cuddling fiend, and that fact that he always seemed to enjoy it just as much as a massive relief.
As you entered his room, you glanced around. You were always surprised when you peeked into Jungkook’s room. It was surprisingly clean for a college student. Sure, there was sometimes laundry tossed around in random places, and the bed wasn’t made. But it was still neat overall, everything seeming to have its place. It smelled faintly like mango and peach – he must have been burning a candle earlier.
He dropped you gently by his pillows, and you watched as he pulled away. When he reached behind his head to yank his t-shirt off (how did men do it?), you swore you salivated as his skin was revealed to you. It didn’t matter that you saw him shirtless literally every day, whether on your phone or in the living room. He was just as breathtaking every time, and if you didn’t see him like this in person you would have assumed his photos were edited.
“I hope you’re not getting ready to go again. I think you killed me a little bit.”
He giggled, the innocent sound effortlessly bringing a smile to your face. “That good, huh?” Clad in only his sweatpants, he dropped on the bed beside you, pulling you in to lay against him.
“You know it was good,” you pouted.
“That doesn’t mean I don’t like hearing it,” he teased, his hands slipping under your shirt to rub patterns into your back.
“It was good,” you mumbled, pressing your face into his bare chest to hide your face, the heat rushing to your cheeks.
“Aw, thank you. How kind of you to say,” he replied, as though he hadn’t asked you seconds ago to say such a thing.
“Shut up,” you snorted, flicking him in the side. You both only laughed, the atmosphere in the room no less comfortable than it’s ever been. It felt ridiculous of you before to even think of having sex with your roommate, but now that you have, it truly felt no different than before. You were still good friends. You were just good friends to cuddled and had sex. No biggie.
You both laid in comfortable silence for a while, but you still felt too wired to sleep. And there was something you couldn’t stop thinking about.
“Uh, hey,” you started, cursing your awkwardness when the atmosphere was so calm.
“What’s wrong?” He must have heard the nervous lilt to your voice.
“Did you really hear me earlier?”
The way you felt his chest bounce as he tried to hold in his laughter already had you wanting to hide.
“I’ve heard you a bunch of times. You’re really not that quiet, you know?” he snickered.
Dear lord. Was there any way for the universe to open up and swallow you whole right this instant? You’d have to settle for pulling away from Jungkook to bury your face into the sheets instead, groaning obnoxiously. You felt nauseous. It didn’t help that you could still feel the mattress bouncing from his laughter.
The sheer embarrassment you felt left a pit in your chest. It didn’t help that you felt that familiar post-sex vulnerability already, and you desperately fought the tears you felt rising in your eyes.
But when he realized you weren’t laughing with him, he was by your side in an instant, a hand placing itself on your shoulder.
“Hey, look at me,” he urged.
When you turned your head to meet his gaze, your eyes glassy, his face fell immediately.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” He cupped your face in his hands, and you darted your gaze away.
“I’m not upset. Just embarrassed,” you bit your lip. “It’s fine, it’s stupid.”
“Not stupid. But I hope you won’t let it bother you too much. I would have said something if it bothered me.”
“So you liked it?” you responded, fixing your eyes back to his face.
It was his turn to look embarrassed, the cringe evident on his face. “I... uhh... yes?” he squeaked out, and he physically had to stop himself from facepalming. You had to admit that seeing him flustered did indeed lift your mood significantly, a smile creeping its way onto your face.
“That’s a relief, I guess,” you said, scratching at the back of your neck. His reaction brought you some semblance of comfort, seeing that at least some part of him felt just as awkward as you did.
Before long, though, his face settled into an expression you couldn’t quite place. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter much now, since it won’t be an issue.”
You should have known to brace yourself upon seeing the salacious upturn of his lips right before he spoke. “You won’t need your vibrator anymore if you have me, right, kitten?”
It only took you a second to get over your shock before you were attacking his lips with your own, pressing his body down into the mattress. His cocky attitude should have annoyed you – would have annoyed you, maybe, if he were anyone else. But he sounded so zealous, so firm, you couldn’t help but believe him. Not when he’d already proved himself.
And if he was offering himself up to you, who were you to say no?
When you were coaxed from sleep, it was by warm breaths against the shell of your ear, lips tracing the nape of your neck so gently you thought you might’ve imagined it. The soft press of bare skin against your back brought the memories of last night rushing back.
Thoughts of his dominating presence bent over you, knees held over his shoulders as he hammered into you. Or thoughts of later, when you’d moulded your body atop his, the gentle grinding of your hips bringing a slow crest of pleasure, like the sunrise gradually lighting the new day. Or finally, when he’d maneuvered your bodies to lay beside each other, your back to his front, slotted together like you belonged there. And when you’d succumbed to slumber, it was with a happy humming in your mind, limbs tired in the best way possible.
When you pushed back against him, arching slightly to give him better access, his cock slipped between your thighs. He was already hard, and you angled your hips so that you could grind him between your folds, moaning at the sensation.
“Good morning,” he whispered, his hand moving to grip at his cock, guiding the head to slick through your wetness.
You only whimpered in response, the feeling heady as he brought his other hand down to pass over your clit, grinding the palm of his hand against it. You still felt sensitive from last night, but the surge of want you felt was already at the forefront of your mind.
“So wet for me already, kitten,” he breathed, teasing his cock at your entrance. “Were you dreaming about me? I think I could slip in just like this... would you like that?”
“Please,” you begged, voice hoarse from sleep. You tried to push yourself back on him to get him inside you, but he held you still before it could work.
“There’s no rush. Just let me,” he soothed against your ear, his cock slowly easing its way inside.
Despite how many times you’d had him inside you the night before, the stretch was still palpable, a twinge of discomfort wringing through you. But he continued his slow rubbing on your clit, kissing at your neck as he urged you to relax. Under his tender care, it wasn’t long before pleasure bloomed in you, radiating from where he thrusted shallowly inside you out to your fingertips.
“Good girl, there you go,” he hummed, easing in to the base when he felt the tension leave your body. “How does it feel?”
“So good,” you moaned, trying and failing to push against him, wanting so desperately to make him go faster. “Please, please...”
He hushed you, his thrusts within you deep and languid, his strokes on your clit restrained. “Don't worry. Stop fighting me and just let yourself feel good”
At his urging, you let yourself melt into his hold, muscles relaxed, taking everything he was giving you and not asking for more. You let your mind blank, giving yourself up to him entirely as you just let yourself feel. And when you gave into it, the warmth that took over was comforting, the pleasure a slow build that you felt everywhere. It was overwhelming in a way you’d never felt before.
“Jungkook,” you whimpered, a hand tightening in the sheets, overpowered by this unfamiliar sort of pleasure.
He let out a small moan at the grip of your walls on him, reaching out to lace his fingers with yours. He nuzzled into your neck, sweet sounds escaping him as he continued his slow grind against you. “You feel so good,” he whined.
When you let yourself go, let your defences fall, let Jungkook control your pleasure for you entirely, it was as though your senses heightened tenfold. You felt hyperaware of his breath against your neck, his barely-audible groans, the lazy drag of his cock against your walls feeling much more intense than what you’d felt the night before.
The pleasure built in you slowly, mewls escaping from your open mouth as it only built and built despite his pace never increasing. Your breath was starting to escape you in pants, and Jungkook sounded just as affected behind you.
“I’m-” you gasped, the bliss only continuing to build within you until you felt like you were going to burst at the seams. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, but you’d never felt so good. You’d never been driven to the edge of orgasm at such a slow pace, never viewed this speed as anything other than torturous. But he knew exactly what to say, exactly what you needed to get you to this point.
“Cum for me, kitten,” he groaned in your ear. Despite his thrusts never quickening, despite his attention on your clit never increasing, his words were all you needed to lose yourself entirely to sensation.
You’d never had an orgasm so powerful yet so calming, the feeling never-ending. The waves of pleasure continued to flow through you, knocking the breath right from your lungs. It was all you could do to grip Jungkook’s hand for dear life, each thrust of his cock between your walls creating a new rush of pleasure.
So overwhelmed by your release, you hardly registered when Jungkook spilled within you with a breathy whine, the hand on your clit moving to wrap around your abdomen, pulling you snug against him. He held you there as though he was afraid of you pulling away from him. You didn’t think you could move even if you tried.
“You’re incredible, you know?” he panted once he had come down from his own high. He pulled from you with a low groan, but kept himself glued to your back.
“You give me the best orgasm I’ve ever had in my life and I’m the incredible one?” you scoffed. It felt like all the cells in your body were singing. You were amazed at your ability to formulate a sentence after having sex all night, then waking up to have calmer, but somehow even better sex. Maybe that actually did make you a bit incredible, after all.
“You are,” he said sweetly, kissing along your cheek and neck. You were quickly coming to recognize his penchant for kissing and sucking along your neck. You were sure if you looked in the mirror your neck and collarbone would be covered in yesterday’s bruises.
You made some sort of noncommittal noise in response, resting comfortably back into the pillows with no intention of getting up anytime soon. When the high subsided, you were left with only the aching of all your limbs, a slight soreness between your thighs, and a heaviness in your mind.
You made a weak noise of protest when Jungkook detached himself from you, unwilling to let go of his warmth and comfort.
“I’ll be back. Go back to sleep if you’re still tired,” he said quietly, replacing the empty space beside you with blankets and pillows, cocooning you in.
You murmured your content at the comfort, his footsteps barely receding from the room before consciousness left you.
When you finally woke up feeling significantly more well-rested, the sun was high in the sky. Stretching your limbs out, you realized Jungkook had left bed already, but left you surrounded by fluffiness.
You sat up, body still sore, but the discomfort was bearable. You shucked the blankets from your naked body and glanced down, inwardly cringing in preparation for the ugly mess you were sure was between your legs. But when you were met with the sight of the clean skin of your thighs, the insides only slightly red from Jungkook’s teeth, you blinked. And blinked again.
Unsure whether you were imagining things, you tapped your index finger at your entrance. The skin definitely felt raw, but when you looked at your finger there was nothing.
He’d cleaned you up. And somehow you hadn’t woken up.
Heat flew to your cheeks at the realization, an emotion you couldn’t quite place budding in you. He was beautiful, considerate, had a perfect body, smelled good, cleaned up after himself, had a big dick and used it well, and always prioritized your comfort after.
Did that man have a single flaw?
You wobbled slightly when you stood from the bed, hissing at the ache between your legs that made itself more present whenever you took a step.
There was a black hoodie thrown across the foot of Jungkook’s bed, and you tossed that on without hesitation, reveling in the faint scent of him that engulfed you. It was warm and comfortable, coming down nearly to your knees. Jungkook already liked to wear his sweaters big, so it was utterly massive on you. You loved it.
You slipped from his room and into yours to get panties. You would absolutely not be putting the mess that was yesterday’s underwear back on your body. You figured you would forego shorts, seeing as Jungkook had already seen all of you anyway, and his sweater covered a decent amount. There was also the fact that your muscles screamed enough from bending to put on panties that you had no desire to put yourself through that again.
After quickly washing up, you gingerly made your way to the living room, trying not to jostle your body too much. Jungkook was already on the couch, grey sweatpants on but no shirt, scrolling on his phone. He didn’t notice you at first, but when you came into view he grinned warmly, tossing his phone aside as he opened his arms to you.
You plopped into his lap as soon as you reached him, a faint oof leaving him at the way you dropped all your weight onto him all at once. You tucked your face into his neck, noting the way he smelled fresh, the scent of citrus and apple tickling your nostrils. He must have showered when you were still asleep. You, on the other hand, probably smelled like sweat and sex, though it didn’t seem to bother him with the way he was holding you tightly.
“How are you?” he asked, hand coming up to scratch lightly at your scalp.
“Sore,” you whined. “You fuck like a beast.” The thought crossed your mind that maybe he could be sore too, but then you remembered he was approximately infinity times more fit than you. Maybe he could just lay off the cardio for today or something.
His laugh bounced you along with him. “Sorry,” he mused, though he sounded more amused than anything.
“Don’t be. It was amazing.”
“I thought so too,” he replied, hands moving to rub at your sides through his sweater. “You’re very cute in this,” he giggled lightly.
“It’s comfy,” you said, humming when he pressed gently into your muscles.
“Do you want a massage?”
“Really?” you perked up, lifting your head to give him a wide-eyed look of desperation. Jungkook was well-known within your group of friends to have magical hands, but you’ve never been on the receiving end of a massage from him. You weren’t sure whether his skills had something to do with his goal of being a sports therapist, or if he just happened to be good at literally everything.
“Really,” he grinned, ignoring the melting of his heart at the adorable expression on your face. “Lay down.”
Eager to get his hands on you, you clambered off his lap, lying flat on your front once Jungkook got up off the couch, a cushion beneath your stomach. He had to stifle a laugh at your excitement. Maybe he should have offered you this ages ago if he knew it would make you this happy.
“Where hurts?” he asked, stroking lightly at your calves.
“Everywhere hurts, you fiend,” you grumbled. You wished you were exaggerating. But he really had put you through it last night, not that you were complaining. But after being folded up every which way, you could feel the strain everywhere. Maybe you needed more exercise.
“Aw, kitten,” he cooed, and you couldn’t tell whether you wanted to be offended by his tone. But you lost that entire train of thought when he pressed his thumbs firmly into the meat of your thigh, rubbing the digits into you as he continued the motions down your entire leg.
You groaned at the sensation, grabbing another cushion to rest your head on. You melted under his touch, his warm hands the perfect medium between soft and callused. You weren’t sure how much this would cure the soreness you felt, but it felt so, so, good that you would sooner die than have him stop.
“Tell me if it’s too much, okay?” His voice was saccharine sweet, and you had to admit to yourself that his care for you was affecting you.
“You’re perfect,” you mumbled, mind blanking as he pressed into your calves, the pressure at that perfect point right before it edged into pain. You were putty in his hands, so focused on his touch that you didn’t even notice your vocal slip-up.
But he did, blood rushing to his face when he took in your words. Luckily you were face down and therefore couldn’t see the sudden pinkness colouring his cheeks. He pushed his sweater up to get access to your lower back, and you didn’t react at all as your panty-clad ass was exposed to him.
He hadn’t realized you didn’t have shorts on under his sweater. The unexpected sight had his cock stirring in his pants, recalling the way he’d had you bent over, face down, ass up as he pounded into you, raining down blows onto the meat of your ass. Maybe you were sore and needed a massage there too.
Jeon Jungkook, pull yourself together, he scolded. You didn’t tend to be much of a complainer, at least not to him, so he knew you really had to be feeling the effects of last night.
You moaned loudly when he circled his thumbs into your lower back, arching slightly into his touch. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been to a spa for a proper massage (being a broke student will do that), but you were sure this had to be better. Pleasure radiated from wherever he touched, and you were sure if you relaxed any more, you’d become one with the couch.
You let tiny noises escape as he dug his palms in, any desire to hold back already gone from you. He’d already heard you sobbing as he fucked you stupid, so what need was there to stifle yourself?
But you went blissfully unaware of Jungkook’s situation above you, biting into his lip in an attempt to reign himself in. As much as he loved that you felt comfortable enough not to censor yourself around him, every little noise you made hit him like a tiny bullet. He would’ve thought with how many times you’d gone at it in the past 15 hours or so he’d have nothing left in him. He didn’t know if it was the effects of his “drought” or just that you were you. Maybe a bit of both.
Besides, it was normal to be a bit turned on when had an attractive person below you who was moaning as you touched them, right?
“How are you so good at this?” you breathed. He had his hands stuck up the back of the sweater, kneading hard right below your shoulder blades. It was very clear his nickname was not for nothing. You’d been living with someone who could do this for almost a year and a half? Perhaps later you’d have to grill him to see if he had other talents you could take advantage of.
He exhaled a laugh at the fact that you sounded almost offended. “Practice, kitten. How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve been touched by god.”
He couldn’t quiet his laughing this time, but also couldn’t stop himself from preening under your praise. It always felt good to be appreciated, especially when you were so matter-of-fact about it.
He finally moved from your back and shoulders to your neck, rubbing gentle circles into the nape. He felt a bit embarrassed to come face to face with all the deep purple marks he’d left you with, but a sense of pride came over him too. Pride that you’d let him pleasure you, let him mark you, let him inside you, let him use you for his pleasure too.
When he finished, he covered you back up, crouching beside you to get a look at your face. You looked calm, peaceful. It felt good to put that expression on your face.
“Do you feel any better?” he asked, reaching to lace your fingers together.
You opened your eyes, startled to find his pretty brown eyes much closer than you’d expected. “I should’ve listened to Hoseok when he said you gave him the best massage of his life,” you grumbled. “I thought he just wanted to make his baby happy.”
“I’m not his baby!” he exclaimed, effectively breaking the quiet atmosphere of the room.
“You are a little bit.” You muffled a giggle at the pout on Jungkook’s face. You could add “cute as fuck” to the growing list of reasons why Jeon Jungkook was perfect.
“Anyway,” he urged, eyes determined to avoid the amused expression he was sure decorated your face. “Are you in pain?”
You stretched your limbs a bit, rolling your shoulders experimentally. As skeptical as you were before about this helping you, you had to admit that you felt a lot better. “I’m okay, my head just hurts a bit. I think I need coffee.”
You made to get off the couch to get caffeine into your system, but gentle pressure on your waist pushed you back down.
“I’ll make it,” he said.
“What? It’s fine, you don’t have to-”
“Just let me do it, it’s no big deal, stay here,” he pouted.
Well, if he insisted.
But when he stood up, you noticed something. Your gaze dropped to his crotch – he was wearing grey sweats, could anyone really blame you? And just before he turned to head towards the kitchen, you realized – he was hard. At least, kind of.
He was turned on from giving you a massage? Really?
You couldn’t deny that you were flattered. Or that you felt a flash of heat in your abdomen. Where was your body’s self-control? Self-preservation? Your horny brain really wanted you to die for the dick.
You were about one thousand percent sure your pussy was out of commission for the day, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t help him.
Standing up from the couch, you slowly made your way to the kitchen, being careful not to make too much noise. Now that you were standing, you really could tell that the massage helped. All the more reason to give him something in return.
When you entered the kitchen, his back was to you, his hand carefully spooning coffee grounds into the press. Perfect.
You crept up closer until you were standing right behind him. Before he had the chance to sense the presence of another person, you reached out both hands. One splayed across his bare chest, the other rubbing at his cock through his sweatpants.
He let out a high-pitched yelp, the spoon slipping from his hands, coffee grounds spilling across the counter. “What-”
“Let me help you,” you interjected, already releasing him and sinking to your knees.
By the time he turned around, you were already knelt at his feet, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. He let out a strangled groan as you blinked up at him, pouting. “Please?” you asked sweetly, hands stroking their way up his legs, scratching at his inner thighs. It was obvious he had nothing on under the sweats again.
“You don’t have to,” he gulped, but he couldn’t ignore the stirring of his cock. You looked so pretty, so willing, at his feet. Just waiting for his permission to suck him off, begging for it.
“But I want to make you feel good. Please?” You did the best impression of Jungkook’s doe eyes that you could muster, hoping you looked more cute than pathetic. But it seemed to work, because Jungkook was moving to cup your jaw, his thumb tracing over your bottom lip. When you opened your mouth to suck at it, he audibly exhaled.
“Okay.” He reached with his other hand to push his pants down, his cock springing free, already mostly hard. Your mouth watered at the sight of it, and you stuck your tongue out and looked up at his face invitingly.
When he tapped the head of his cock against your tongue with a hiss, you closed your mouth around him without hesitation. You sucked at the head, tonguing at the underside, smiling when you heard his low groan.
You tugged his sweatpants down further so you could grip at the meat of his bare thighs, stabilizing yourself as you took him further. You let your eyes flutter shut as you bobbed up and down on the shaft, letting saliva gather. Determined to pull an array of noises from him, you relaxed your throat, taking him further into your mouth, fighting the urge to gag.
You opened your eyes to look up at him, met with the sight of his head tipped back, his mouth open but no sound escaping. You sucked hard around him, and you were rewarded by a whine leaving his lips.
Wanting more from him, wanting him to let go completely, you released him from your mouth with a pop, grabbing his hand before he had time to question you. You placed it on the back of your head before looking at him, carefully feigned innocence colouring your expression.
“Fuck my mouth.”
He had to bite back a moan at the sight of you, looking like an angel while filthy words left your lips. “Can you take it, kitten?” He shoved his fingers into your hair at the root, already tightening his fingers in preparation. He gave an experimental tug, tipping your head back further, making eye contact as you bared your neck to him.
“Of course I can take it,” you breathed, lips forming a pout. Your eyes fluttered closed when he gave another firm tug to your hair, already feeling a piece of your mind slipping away at his treatment and the thought of what was to come.
“Open up. Hands behind your back.” Despite his commanding words his tone was still soft. You followed without hesitation, lacing your fingers behind you as you stuck your tongue out. “Just push me away if you want to stop.”
He rested the head of his cock on your tongue, hissing as he pushed back into your mouth slowly. “Such a good little kitten for me. Still so hungry for cock after everything I gave you, hm?”
You hummed a noise of agreement as he pushed you onto his cock, thrusting deeply in one go before you could register what he was doing. You couldn’t stop yourself from gagging, tears springing to your eyes, but you sucked around him as best as you could, eyes shutting.
You relaxed the muscles of your throat as he started thrusting more harshly, the hand in your hair tightening as he pulled you on and off along with his own movements. Abruptly, he shoved himself in to the base, the hand on your head shoving your nose into his pelvis. You choked around him before swallowing reflexively, the loud, depraved moan he gave in response stoking the flames of your desire.
He kept you there for a few more seconds, tears finally escaping you as you continued to gag. He pulled back only to start up a more brutal pace, his constant battering on the back of your throat only summoning more tears to your eyes. But you enjoyed it, enjoyed driving him wild, enjoyed being the source of his pleasure. To get to experience the frenzied movements of his hips as he lost control, the frequent grunts and moans leaving him – you would do all of this again, and so much more.
“Look at me,” he panted, and you opened your eyes at the sound of his voice. You tried your best to look him in the eye, but your eyes were blurry with tears, unable to meet his gaze properly.
He cursed when he saw you – eyes hazy and unfocused, cheeks wet with tears, hands behind your back, and your mouth stuffed full of his cock. He almost came right then and there.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, I’m gonna cum,” he moaned, speeding up his thrusts, the movements turning sloppy, his fist tightening in your hair. You moaned wantonly in response, the vibrations on his cock his tipping point. He whimpered as he spilled onto your tongue, the shocks of his orgasm travelling through his whole body.
You shivered at the warmth in your mouth. It wasn’t much – unsurprising, since he was probably unbelievably spent by this point. But you swallowed nonetheless, sticking your tongue out to show him once he removed himself from your mouth.
You panted heavily once you were free, your throat feeling so raw, but your chest feeling so warm. There was a mild throbbing between your legs, but one that you elected to ignore considering the circumstances. You let your eyes fall shut again, leaning in to lay against Jungkook’s thigh, your hands coming from behind you to hug around his legs.
You were sure you looked pretty silly, knelt on the floor, clinging to Jungkook’s legs like a koala, his sweatpants still halfway down his legs. But you didn’t feel ashamed in wanting his comfort anymore.
“Hey,” he called out softly, crouching down to get level with you, pulling his pants back up and maneuvering your body so you were sitting rather than kneeling. He wiped the wetness from your face, pushing your hair back out of your face. “You did so well for me. I’m sorry if it was too rough.”
You only shook your head, too nervous to try to speak lest it come out in a croak. As much as you hated to add a sore throat to your growing list of aches and pains, you didn’t regret a single moment. You liked watching Jungkook fall apart, liked being the cause of it.
Once he was sure you were sitting upright on your own, he stood. You watched as he opened the fridge and poured you some water, returning to you with a glass in hand.
“Drink,” he said firmly. He sat before you, eyes not leaving you until you downed half the glass.
“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine,” you whispered, voice only slightly raspy. You were sure your throat would feel good as new within a couple hours.
“I wanted to take care of you, but I feel like you came out with more problems than what you started with,” he scolded, but his heart wasn’t really in it. He was sure you knew what your body could handle, and he just wanted to do his best to make you comfortable after.
You finished the rest of the water, setting the glass onto the floor before stretching your limbs. Your knees felt a bit achey now, but you weren’t that much worse off than earlier.
“Well, we can’t all be ripped. Do you even feel that tired?” You got to your feet, Jungkook rising with you. When you spotted the coffee press on the counter, you remembered what the purpose of this entire kitchen visit was in the first place.
“Not really, no.” He wrapped his arms around you as you finished making your coffee.
“If we keep at it like this maybe I’ll have abs by the end of the week.” You gave an exaggerated gasp. “Maybe I’ll make my own thot Insta to rival yours!”
“Excuse you, it’s not a thot Insta,” he chuckled. “But you should. I can help you!”
It was you who laughed then. You couldn’t decide if the notion of you having a workout account was funnier, or if it was the fact that Jungkook sounded 100% serious. “Hard pass on that one, I think.”
“I think you’d do great!”
“Maybe I could make like a... food Instagram.”
“Really? You’re not that good at-”
The glare you turned around to send at him could have frozen a pool of lava, muting him instantly. “Finish that sentence and see if you’ll ever get shrimp alfredo from me again.”
“I think you would be great with a food Insta!” he said a bit too enthusiastically, cringing inwardly at the slight break in his voice.
You muffled a laugh as you turned to pour the finished coffee into two mugs, breaking free from Jungkook’s hold to make them to your preference.  You stirred cinnamon-vanilla creamer into Jungkook’s mug, recalling how he’d always try and fail to hide his disgust at the bitter taste of normal coffee. Perhaps that was his one weakness as a human being.
“Hey, I just realized something,” you said, handing Jungkook his coffee, smiling at his quiet ‘thanks.’
“We never finished Hamilton.”
The next week went by in a blur of shared moments, passionate embraces, and quiet intimacy. You were certain you spent more hours in Jungkook’s bed than your own, which was pretty impressive for someone who spent her time lying down like it was a job. But it wasn’t just that you were there for sex, though you had your fair share of that, too. The reality was, you felt comfortable there. He never made you feel clingy or awkward, pulling you in to cuddle as much as you did to him.
You felt safe in his arms.
No, you weren’t exactly sure what you were doing. You weren’t exactly sure of where the line was drawn. He wasn’t putting a name on it, and neither were you. And in all honesty?
You didn’t really care.
This was nice. The nicest thing you’ve had in a long time. And you’d bet money that he felt the same. You’d never met someone as sincere as Jungkook, and you could tell he felt something.
But for now, you would let everything go unspoken.
You would typically spend the night in Jungkook’s bed, limbs wrapped around each other, relaxed in each other’s embrace. But that night Jungkook and Taehyung were gaming until obscene hours of the morning, and so you retreated to your own bed, scrolling through your phone until you fell asleep unintentionally.
You woke up confused, the warm beginnings of sunrise streaming in through your windows. Your lights were off and the door was closed, while you were pretty sure you fell asleep before you could have done so.
Did Jungkook come to check on you at some point in the night?
The warmth you felt at the realization was cut short by a buzzing sound in your room. You furrowed your brow, wondering whether you imagined it. You checked your phone, only to be greeted by the sight that it was 5:30 in the morning. You gave your room a once-over, curious as to whether that sound was the reason you woke up when you’d normally sleep through the night.
You weren’t confused much longer, because when something with wings whizzed by only inches from your face, you yelped.
Nope. Nope. Nopenopenopenopenope.
You hopped up off your bed as if your limbs were made of springs, backing yourself as far away from the demon in your room as possible. You watched on in abject horror, heart rate increasing exponentially, as the... whatever it was... crawled up your wall. Jungkook was usually the one who killed bugs in the house, but judging by the lack of cursing and clicking from his room, he was already asleep for the night.
It looked like you were going to have to fend for yourself. You glanced around your room, looking for some kind of wide, flat object you could obliterate this villain with. When all of a sudden, it flew off the wall and started circling around the room.
Never mind.
You pounced for the door, ripping it open and launching yourself into the hallway, slamming it shut behind you. You winced at the volume, but you knew it wouldn’t be enough to wake Jungkook. The man slept like a log, only waking up on his own terms. You almost felt bad that he would creep around the house to keep you from waking, whereas you could do almost anything you wanted while he was asleep unless you screamed at the top of your lungs.
Once you were out in the hallway, you realized your situation. Your phone was on your bed, you had no extra blankets, and you were clad in only a thin, oversized t-shirt and panties. But there was absolutely no way you were going back in there alone, and you certainly weren’t going to wake up Jungkook when you were sure he’d only been asleep for an hour or two at most.
It looked like you were sleeping on the couch.
But when you made your way there and laid down, you cursed your luck.
You and Jungkook were the type of people who liked to run the air conditioning colder, then cover up to reach the perfect temperature. And since the utilities were included in the price of your rent, you’d never felt bad about it.
Until now, when you were trying to fall asleep half naked in the living room.
Knowing Jungkook sometimes tossed his hoodies places then forgot about them, you gave the room a quick once-over, chanting a chorus of ‘pleases’ in your head. Anything to not have to go back in your room.
When you spotted something black draped over the pull-up bar, you immediately sent up prayers to whoever might have been listening. Plodding across the room, you picked it up and gave it a quick whiff, relieved when it only smelled of fabric softener and not sweat. Which shouldn’t have been surprising, considering Jungkook liked to undress before he even did his actual workout.
Returning to the safety of the couch, you exhaled a laugh when you saw that Jungkook had basically the same plain black hoodie in yet another brand. What did that make now – four? Five? And that was only the ones you noticed.
Grateful that his clothes were so huge, you laid your head on a cushion, draping his sweater over your body. You curled your legs up so that you were completely covered. You were still cold, but it was better than nothing.
On the living room couch, curled into a ball under Jungkook’s clothes, you fell into an unsatisfying, fitful sleep.
You woke to a concerned voice and a hand gently shaking your shoulder.
“Y/N? Why are you out here? Are you okay?”
You groaned, blinking at the light invading your eyes. The brightness of the room told you that you’d been there for at least several hours, but it certainly didn’t feel that way. You felt like death.
But when the fog lifted from your mind and you registered the sight of Jungkook bent over you, you grasped onto his sleeve tightly.
“Jungkook. You have to save me.”
“What?” He instantly tensed up, eyes flying around the room. He looked ready to fight someone, as if you would’ve slept on the couch because there was a dangerous person in the apartment.
“There’s a bug in my room. Huge. Flies. Terrifying.”
He would’ve laughed if not for the frightened glint in your eyes. Everyone was afraid of something, and he was very well aware by this point that you were petrified of anything that had more than six legs. It was kind of cute, if he was being honest.
“Why didn’t you come get me?”
“I didn’t want to wake you up,” you pouted. “Can you kill it?”
“If you let go of me.”
Realizing you were still clinging to him like a lifeline, you released him, scratching awkwardly at the back of your neck. But he just gave you a reassuring smile before grabbing a shoe and disappearing into your room.
A couple minutes later you heard a bang, Jungkook returning to sprawl beside you once his kill order was complete.
“Is it dead?” you asked.
“I couldn’t find it, actually.”
You sat up stiffly, gaping at his nonchalant attitude. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
He stared at you, expressionless, for what must have been at least 10 seconds. With each passing moment you only felt your dread build and build. But he was never very talented at keeping a straight face, and a grin broke out as he started snickering.
“I killed it, don’t worry.”
“Oh my god, I HATE you,” you cried, crossing your arms and fixing him with your deadliest stare.
But he was having none of it, scooting closer and pulling you to lean against him. “You love me.”
Your heart skipped in your chest, but you couldn’t act like you’d never said such to each other before. Considering you told all your friends you loved them, that must have been all he meant. Right?
“You’re okay sometimes,” you mumbled, relaxing yourself against him. He smelled like he just got out of the shower. Or did he always smell this good? It must have been a rest day for him, considering it made no sense to shower before working out for hours. You hoped that meant you could hang out a bit more today, or get up to... other things with the spare time.
“But, uh, hey...” he started, a bit of nervousness coming through in his voice.
“Next time, you could, you know, come to my room instead.”
“I wasn’t going to wake you up at 5 in the morning.”
“No but, you could just come sleep, you know? My bed is always open for you,” he spat out quickly, cursing once he realized his words. “I don’t mean like that. You know. Just to sleep. Together. But not sleep together. I just-” He paused momentarily to take a couple breaths, clearly not having breathed at all through any of his previous statements. “I don’t want you to have to sleep on the couch, okay?”
As Jungkook went on and on in his frantic tone, your smile only grew. Why was he so sweet? And why did it stir something in your stomach?
“Thanks, Jungkook.” You hugged him tightly around the waist. “And thanks for saving my life.” Your happiness only grew when you felt his chest rise and fall as he laughed at your words. “I’m gonna go wash up. I’ll make pancakes or something when I come back!”
At the sound of incoming pancakes, he started pushing you upright immediately, and you swatted away his hands, giggling at his antics.
When he watched you bound away, clearly in much better spirits than when he found you on the couch, he couldn’t help the way his eyes lit up, his lips upturning subconsciously.
You had him wrapped around your little finger and you didn’t even know it.
But little did he know that you thought the same of him.
The rest of the day felt more productive than usual. Which was always a relief, considering quarantine with no job and no classes didn’t make for the most productive daily life.
But you cooked breakfast (you would die on the hill that if your first meal is at 1 pm it’s still breakfast), hung out with Jungkook, did a workout (though, nowhere near Jungkook’s level of working out), planned some courses, and video chatted with Yoongi. It was after dinner (which you also cooked – yes, you were proud), and you and Jungkook were relaxing in your respective rooms. It sounded like he was Facetiming his brother at first, but it had since gone silent in his room.
Finally growing a bit bored with scrolling through Tumblr and Instagram, you got up to grab water from the kitchen. That was something to do, right? Maybe once you were back, you could ask Jungkook if he wanted to watch a movie with you. Or do other things. Maybe both?
Unfortunately, however, you didn’t make it to the kitchen.
Perhaps you should have cursed your inability to pay attention within the comfort of your own home.
But could anyone blame you for not expecting for there to be a dumbbell in the middle of the floor?
You let out a loud yelp when your bare foot hit metal, an even louder groan when you hit the floor.
Fucking hell.
You turned to glare daggers into the offending object, rubbing gingerly at your knees, sore from hitting the floor and almost definitely forming bruises. Luckily, your ankle felt okay despite turning awkwardly at first.
It wasn’t long before Jungkook was running out of his room after hearing you, rushing even quicker when he saw you on the floor.
“Oh god, are you okay?” He was instantly by your side, giving you a once-over, eyes panicked.
As much as you were annoyed, the feeling dissipated when you saw how freaked-out he was. “Relax, Hercules. I’m fine. Promise.” It wasn’t a lie. In fact, you were already feeling okay, more surprised than anything. “Maybe next time don’t leave your stuff in the middle of the floor though.”
He winced, at that, promptly rising to put the dumbbell in the corner, where it normally was. “I’m so sorry.” He helped you to your feet, and you stood, head tipped back to look at him.
“Don’t worry about it. Besides, what happened to not working out today?”
“I, uhm, needed a bit of a distraction.” He looked unreasonably uncomfortable, enough that you didn’t push the issue. He reached to pull you closer by the waist, his hands slipping beneath your loose shirt. “Can I do anything to make you feel better, kitten?”
As much as the words might have seemed innocent at first, the shift in mood was immediate. His voice was breathy, his fingers pressing into your skin. His eyes were intense where they were usually soft, pupils dilated as he looked at you like he wanted to eat you alive.
Well, this was sudden, but you weren’t going to complain.
“Maybe,” you breathed, baring your neck to him when he leaned in. He didn’t hesitate to begin sucking new bruises into your already fading ones.
“Name it.” He spoke directly into your ear, the low tone sending shivers down your spine, your hands rising to fist into his shirt.
“Maybe you should kiss it better.”
You felt, rather than saw his grin, his mouth still pressed into the skin of your neck. “Maybe I should.”
Gentle hands reached for your head, turning you before soft lips met your own. The tender movement of his mouth on yours was in stark contrast to his attitude only moments before, but you simply allowed yourself to melt into his touch rather than dwell on it.
You brought a hand up to run through his hair, silky soft between your fingers. You scratched lightly at his scalp before digging your fingers in to give a harsh tug, revelling in the gasp you received in return.
Seemingly done with holding back, Jungkook crouched suddenly, picking you up at the thighs before you had time to protest. You wrapped your legs around him reflexively, taking the opportunity to suck bruises into his neck. Maybe you didn’t go as wild as him, but there was something beautiful about seeing him covered in the evidence of your shared passion.
So occupied by your task, yanking his head back even further to give you better access, you didn’t notice you were already in his room until he was tossing you onto the bed, your body bouncing up off the mattress. You made to sit up, but you were abruptly pushed back down by a hand on your chest.
“Just lay back, kitten,” he drawled, pulling you upward only momentarily just to pull your shirt off, his hands removing your bra in record time. “Didn’t you ask me to kiss it better?”
The expression on his face was devious, his hands quick as he yanked your panties and shorts down your legs in one go. He took hold of your ankles, spreading them wide as he sat in the space between, fixing his gaze on your centre as soon as it was visible.
“Wet for me already, kitten?”
You scowled. “I won’t be for much longer at this rate.”
His eyes narrowed, his grip on you tightening. Your breaths quickened at his obvious displeasure, excitement and arousal coursing through you. “Good things come to those who wait,” he hummed, bending your knees so that you were spread wide for him, pussy on full display. “Isn’t that right?”
Heat shot to your face at the obvious reference to your activities in this same spot only days ago, where Jungkook edged you for what felt like hours. You ended up cumming so hard around his cock that you cried, zonking out almost immediately after.
You made some sort of noncommittal noise in response, but he didn’t seem too focused on reprimanding you for your silence.
Instead, he dropped his head lower to mouth along your shin, dropping messy, wet kisses along the skin. When you raised your head just enough to look at him, the sight before you had you biting into your lip. His eyes were shut, his fingers tracing lightly up your leg, his mouth dragging against you like he had all the time in the world. You had to keep yourself from making any noise when he suckled at your calf, his teeth biting at the muscle hard enough to leave marks.
He continued his treatment up your other leg, moving along at a snail’s pace. When he moved to your inner thigh, the tingles you felt increased tenfold, every kiss only making you more and more impatient. You could feel the arousal in you building, but he didn’t even look towards your core, let alone provide you any relief. You dug your fingers into the pillow beneath your head, your legs squirming under his touch, hips canting upward ever-so-slightly.
“Stop moving,” he demanded gruffly, tone so much harsher than the attention he was laving you with.
You did your best to follow his instructions, but when he bit cruelly into the soft skin of your inner thigh, you couldn’t stop the cry that left your lips, hips bucking under him.
“What did I just say?” came his exasperated reply, his forearm coming to press across your abdomen, preventing any chance of you doing the same thing again.
Having to lay there and take his languid kisses interrupted by the ruthless marking of your skin was like the most pleasant sort of torture. You could feel yourself trembling from the effort of holding back, the fire in you only growing with every nip, lick, and caress.
“Jungkook, please...”
He only hummed in response.
“Touch me,” you begged.
“I have been touching you.”
“Sorry, I don’t know what you mean.”
Was he really going to make you beg? “Can you move faster?”
Your soft spot for this man was really about to harden real soon.
“You’ll have to forgive me...” he droned, his lips trailing up your thigh, stopping frustratingly close to your core, enough that you felt the heat radiating from him. “I like to play with my food.” He punctuated the statement by a sharp bite at the delicate skin between your pussy and thigh.
A gasp was forced from your lungs, your hand falling down to wind its way into Jungkook’s hair. His words did nothing to quell your restlessness, only electrifying your nerves, every lingering touch only leaving you more and more desperate for stimulation where you needed it most.
“Please, please, I’m going crazy,” you whined, attempting to push his head further towards your centre, only to have your hand ripped from his head and thrown to your side.
“Aw, kitten,” he cooed, condescension clear in his voice. “We can’t have that, can we?”
So unlike his previous unhurried demeanor, he shot his head to your core suddenly, licking a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit.
A moan was ripped from your chest at the unexpected deliverance of pleasure right where you needed it. Despite his recent burst of speed, he continued his leisurely pace, giving tiny flicks of his tongue at your entrance, taking his sweet time as if savouring every shiver, every release of breath coming from your lungs.
“So wet for me, you taste so good,” he groaned, nuzzling his nose into your clit as he kept at your sopping entrance with his tongue. You wouldn’t stop shifting in his hold as you whimpered, trying so desperately to push your hips up, but you were no match for his strength holding you down.
“Kitten, relax,” he hummed, taking a break to leave wet kisses on your abdomen. “We talked about this, right?”
You knew he was right. He’d proven to you time and time again over the past week or two that everything felt so much better once you let the tension go. He’d introduced you to seeing how much better pleasure ebbed and flowed when you were relaxed, how incredible it felt to give yourself in to it rather than seek it out. But you couldn’t deny that it was difficult to go against your instinct to lean into the pleasure even when he only wanted to deliver it to you.
He stroked softly up your leg, reaching up to lace your fingers together when he felt that you stopped fighting him. “Good girl.”
You keened under his praise, tightening your hold on his hand when he dove back into your pussy, his tongue dipping into your entrance. He kept up his teasing strokes, his attention only aiming for your bundle of nerves a second at a time before he was right back tonguing at your folds.
But when his tongue dipped even lower, you gasped.
He circled his tongue experimentally at your rim, pausing when you gave a choked-out mewl. “Is this okay?”
You shivered at his hot breath on your wet asshole, the sensation foreign but nowhere near unpleasant. “Yeah, I just – I've never...” you trailed off quietly, embarrassed.
“You haven’t done this before?” he prodded, no shame in his tone, only seeking to ensure he heard you properly.
You only shook your head, avoiding eye contact.
“Hey,” he called out, not continuing until you met his gaze. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
“I think...” you paused, but he only smiled encouragingly, not pushing you. “I think I want to try. With you.”
“Are you sure?”
You nodded, biting at your lip.
“Just say the word and I stop, okay?”
Searching your eyes one more time for any hint of doubt, he lowered his head back between your legs. “Lay back, kitten. I promise it’ll feel good.”
When he circled his tongue around your hole again, you let your head sink back into the pillows beneath you, basking in his attention. You couldn’t help the strange, flustered feeling that settled over your mind, but you tried your best to relax under his tongue.
It was a different sort of pleasure, but you weren’t sure if that was just because you were unused to it. It was a pleasure that swam through your limbs, more of a tickle than a wave. Different, but good different.
You gasped loudly when his fingers rose to drag through your folds as his ministrations with his tongue continued, a low moan leaving him when he felt how soaked you were. But when two fingers eased their way into you, you couldn’t help but let out a long, drawn-out whine. Sure, the stretch was nowhere near as overwhelming as the first time after all the times you two had fucked, but the sensation of him scissoring his fingers inside you still left you reeling.
You were completely soaking his hand, enough that he added a third finger without much preparation. When he scissored those fingers apart at the same time as he pressed the tip of his tongue ever-so-gently against your entrance, you clenched around his fingers, back arching slightly as your mouth fell open.
“Ah, Jungkook,” you cried out, your fingers tangling themselves into his hair. He didn’t stop you this time, allowing you to press him in closer to you. But when the tip of his tongue breached your hole, your limbs stiffened.
“Don’t tense up,” he ordered, though his tone was soft. “Remember, I’ll stop if you ask me to.”
Relax, you told yourself. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Jungkook – you just felt out of your element. As if you were going to mess up, despite not even being the one doing anything.
But he was already making you feel so good, and so, you let go.
He threw one of your legs over his shoulder, shooting you a cute, reassuring smile when you loosened your limbs. Only he could manage to look cute with 3 fingers inside of you.
At the same time as he started pressing his tongue into you again, he crooked his fingers inside you. Stars flashed behind your eyelids as you slammed your eyes closed, the brush of his fingers against that spongy spot inside you leaving you whimpering. The overwhelming sensations didn’t stop, the tip of his tongue pressing you open, gradually moving deeper inside as he continued rubbing at your g-spot.
He slowly thrusted his fingers as he worked his tongue deeper, your body heating up even as goosebumps rose to the surface. Getting stimulated both ways felt like too much at first, but you were becoming more and more comfortable, pushing yourself closer to his tongue and him closer to you. You felt almost dazed.
After working you open with his tongue, he pulled his fingers from you, shushing you gently when you whined at the loss of fullness. But you only moaned when he circled a wet digit at your lower entrance, the sensation once again different but pleasant.
When he begun to ease a single finger into you, the glide was easy. You’d already become more familiar with the breach. The combination of your arousal coating him, the presence of his saliva, and your (finally) relaxed state had him able to slide in to the first knuckle with ease.
“That’s it...” he breathed, almost seemingly for himself rather than for you to hear. “Good girl.”
You arched your back as he thrusted slowly with his finger, tiny noises escaping your throat as he stretched you open. It felt stranger to feel the firmness of a finger as opposed to the malleability of a tongue, but wonderful all the same. When he was able to insert the length of his finger with minimal resistance, he called out to you.
“Would you like more?”
You nodded emphatically before he even finished the question. As much as you already felt good, the feeling of a stretch always sent you alight, and you were certain this would be no exception.
He pulled away from you to reach into his nightstand drawer, returning with a bottle of lube and something you didn’t quite catch sight of. He shifted to briskly shuck his clothes to the floor, leaving him just as naked as you, his cock fully hard, the tip red and angry. Despite the fact that he hadn’t received anything at all, he only focused on squirting a generous amount of lube onto his fingers.
“Kitten, it might feel a bit uncomfortable at first, but try not to tense up, okay? If it hurts at all, tell me.”
“Don’t worry so much,” you smiled shyly, though you appreciated his words. You let your eyes close, your arms coming up the bed to rest by your head.
When slick fingers brushed against your rim, you gasped, the digits cold. But you quickly reigned yourself in, adjusting your hips to give him better access.
When the tips of two fingers entered you, it wasn’t as bad as you had come to expect. But as they pushed a bit further, the slight burn had you squirming. He paused, giving you time to adjust.
“How are we doing?”
“I’m good.” This was expected, and nothing you haven’t felt before. You didn’t doubt that only amazing things were waiting on the other side of this hurdle.
He waited several more moments before resuming his actions, your walls expanding around his fingers as he pushed forth. The pressure felt unusual, a peculiar tightness in your lower abdomen, the sensation of fullness prevalent despite only having a portion of two fingers inside.
He thrusted them shallowly within you, rubbing against nerve endings you never expected to house such pleasure despite the assurances of several of your friends. You felt the familiar gradual building of warmth in your abdomen at his touch, though nowhere near the breaking point.
When he eventually seated his fingers fully within you, the moan couldn’t be kept from you, the stretch leaving you warm, the sensation of being filled fogging your mind. You gave an experimental thrust of your hips, gasping at the feeling of his fingers moving deep inside you. When he dropped a hand to circle your clit, you continued to thrust yourself against his hand, mewls leaving you.
“How does it feel, kitten?”
“So good,” you panted, shivers going through you when he took over the movement of his hand for you. He scissored his fingers apart within you, the additional stretch only building the pleasure more and more.
“Do you want more?”
“Please,” you cried, craving the sense of euphoria that came from the stretch inside you.
“I have a butt plug that’s a bit bigger than my fingers right now.” He held it up for you to see – it was glass, presumably the second thing he grabbed from the drawer earlier. “Do you want to try it?”
“Yes, yes, please.” You sounded pathetic even to your own ears, but you felt no need to hide your desire. He was between your legs, after all – you were certain he could see it for himself, could see your arousal dripping from your core down to your ass.
“Okay, kitten. Give me a minute.”
You exhaled as he removed his fingers from you, his hand reaching back into the drawer to pull out a wipe for his hands. You’d have to find out what else was hidden away in that drawer after this.
True to his word, it wasn’t long before he was warming the plug between his hands, squirting out another obnoxious amount of lube onto it. As you watched him fiddle with it methodically, your arousal only grew.
You widened your legs when he pressed it lightly against your entrance, eager to have something back inside you. You watched as he brushed your clit gently with his index finger as he started pushing it inside.
You did your best to even out your breathing as he pushed it deeper, gasping as the widest part started entering you. But the sensation was everything you wanted and more, your eyeballs rolling back in your head as he moved the hand on your clit to insert two fingers into your cunt.
Just when you thought the plug would keep going on forever, you squeaked as it bottomed out inside you, the toy snug inside your ass.
You couldn’t catch your breath, especially not when Jungkook inserted another finger next to his two already inside, his other hand nudging at the butt plug inside you. You felt dizzy, every nerve ending in your body singing. You slammed your eyes shut only to see sparks every time he thrusted his fingers or fiddled with the butt plug. Any trace of discomfort was long gone, only the glorious stretch of both of your holes leaving you a trembling mess.
He unmercifully continued to play with the toy inside you as he pistoned his fingers into you, twisting and pushing against it, pulling almost all the way out only to push it back in to the base. He only watched as you fell apart beneath him, a stream of wanton noises escaping your open mouth, too overwhelmed to clench your jaw.
When he curled his fingers to rub expertly at your g-spot, you almost screamed, your muscles limp.
“J-Jungkook,” you moaned, your tongue struggling to wrap around the syllables in the midst of your bliss.
“Hm?” He slowed down his motions to give you the chance to collect yourself. You greatly appreciated it – you didn’t trust yourself to form words otherwise.
“Want your cock,” you slurred, clenching hard around his fingers. You wanted to feel him replace the plug with himself, feel his warm body against your own as he ruined you, made you feel things you’d never felt before. More than anything, you wanted it with him.
“Oh yeah? Where do you want me?”
Despite the fuzziness in your mind, you were still embarrassed at the notion of detailing exactly what you wanted. Instead, you bit your lip bashfully, moving your eyes away from his piercing gaze towards the ceiling. “You know where.”
You could tell from the slight chuckle you heard that he knew exactly what you meant, but that didn’t mean he was going to let you off the hook. “Tell me, kitten.”
You fixed your most challenging stare onto him, though you weren’t sure how menacing you managed to look, considering your chest was heaving, your body was wet with sweat, and you were trembling on the other end of his hand. Your pseudo-staredown continued, his motion inside you completely ceased as he only gave you an unbothered look in return. It was clear you weren’t going to get your way.
Internally declaring him the winner, you looked away. “My ass,” you mumbled, sounding quiet even to your own ears.
“Sorry, what was that?” he said in a sing-song voice, evidently loving how flustered you got whenever he asked you to tell him what you wanted.
“Jungkook, please,” you pouted, giving him a pleading look.
“Okay, okay,” he conceded. He was much weaker to your begging than to your threatening tactics – he'd made that clear on multiple occasions, though never telling you outright. It was something you’d learned to utilize well recently.
As he pulled his fingers from you and reached for the bottle of lube, you called out to him. “Wait.” He gave you a look of confusion, but you sat up quickly and plucked the bottle from his hand. “Let me.”
His cock looked painfully hard, precum leaking from the swollen tip. You couldn’t imagine the self-control he possessed to be able to go so long untouched. Your mouth watered at the sight, memories of him fucking into your throat crossing your mind. But this wasn’t the time for that – there was always later, after all.
Following his example and squirting more lube into your hand than you thought you needed, you reached for his cock. He whined loudly the moment you made contact, the hardness twitching within your grasp. You heard his breath quicken as you spread lube over him, but your eyes were fixed solely on his cock in your hand, thoughts of him inside you shooting new waves of arousal to your core.
When you were finished, you wiped your hand on the sheets and laid back, eagerly yanking him forward by the wrist. You spread your legs shamelessly, your cunt and your ass, still stuffed full with the plug, on full display. He hissed at the sight, stroking himself loosely.
“Fuck me,” you urged, attempting to pull him closer, wrapping your ankles around his thighs.
“You’re so needy today, kitten,” he teased, slowly removing the butt plug from you. You hissed as your body released it, trembling at the notion of being full of something bigger.
He hovered over you, teasingly rubbing his cock through your folds, a whimper pulled from your throat as the head nudged your clit. The lube paired with the build-up of your arousal made for an easy slide, but soon enough he was pulling away, the tip prodding at your ass.
“Are you ready for me?” he asked, pausing.
“Yes, yes, yes-” you chanted, cut short abruptly when he started pushing into you. The pressure you’d felt earlier returned, but this time you did your best to take deep breaths through the slight discomfort. You dropped a hand to your clit, the strange feeling in your gut replaced by pleasure as you circled the nub, your hips arching and pushing back further onto his cock.
He groaned obnoxiously as he slid further and further into you, made easier by your body’s distraction. But when he was almost fully inside you let your hand fall back to your side, whimpering at the fullness.
“Fuck,” you whined, his almost pained expression only riling you up more. “Feels so big.”
“You’re taking it so well, kitten,” he replied, voice strained. “So fucking tight-” He threw his head back, his mouth falling open, a whine coming out when he finally bottomed out.
As he grinded his length into you, it was all you could do to squirm against him, gasping at how stuffed deep you felt. You whimpered when he started thrusting slowly, reaching for him.
“Come here,” you begged. You wanted so badly to feel his skin against your own as he fucked you open, craving the sense of intimacy that came with being held.
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as soon as he bent over you, your back arching to plaster your bodies together. He kept up his slow pace, but all you wanted was to be ruined by his cock.
“Please, faster,” you hummed, mouth falling open when he did just that. When he heard only your cries of pleasure and stopped feeling the same resistance as earlier, he sped up even more, his thrusts deep.
You felt more and more intoxicated with each thrust, his cock filling you wide, brushing against sensitive spots you didn’t know existed.
Jungkook didn’t seem to be faring any better, breathy moans coming from him with every thrust. He fisted a hand in your hair, yanking to bare your neck to him as he let his thrusts grower wilder at your reactions.
“So fucking perfect, for me, kitten, fuck,” he choked, dipping his head to suck harshly above your collarbone. His rough treatment and the unforgiving thrust of his cock inside you lit your body on fire, your eyes open but unable to focus on anything.
After being worked up so long it was no surprise that the pleasure of finally having a cock inside you had you approaching your end more quickly than usual. But this pleasure felt deeper, different, fuller, overwhelming.
And when Jungkook bit particularly hard at your neck, everything multiplied a thousandfold.
You couldn’t make a single noise as the waves of rapture hit every cell in your body, your back arching obscenely as your vision went white. He fucked you through your orgasm, whines slipping from him as his thrusts became sloppy.
It was only seconds later when he pulled from you, fisting his cock roughly. You felt rather than saw the heat of his release hitting your abdomen, just the thought of opening your eyes too exhausting for your spent body.
You made a noise of complaint when he moved your legs to lay flat against the bed, the lingering soreness lighting up at the movement. He kept a firm hand stroking your thigh, grounding you as he stretched to reach back into his drawer.
You focused on the warmth of his touch cutting through the cloudiness in your mind, the sensation of a cool wipe against your skin and between your legs giving you shivers.
“Are you sleeping, princess?” he asked, his voice still raspy but calming nonetheless.
You gave a small shake of your head, forcing your heavy eyes open, vision fuzzy but able to see Jungkook bent over you from his place beside you.
“I’m gonna sit you up, okay?”
When you nodded your consent, he shifted you up gently, slipping himself behind you. Caged in with his chest supporting your upper half, his legs on either side of your body, and the blanket he pulled over both of you, you’ve never felt safer.
He reached out to grab something from the nightstand, a water bottle appearing in front of you. If you had the capacity for higher thinking in this moment, you would’ve questioned how he had everything prepared already.
“Drink for me,” he instructed, holding the lip of the bottle up to your face.
After helping you take a few sips, he put it aside, wrapping both arms around your waist and nuzzling into your hair.
“Did so well for me, princess,” he hummed, dropping kisses to your forehead. His tender treatment had you humming, relaxing fully into his arms, feeling lighter than ever.
“Jungkook,” you whispered, only continuing when you heard the quiet ‘hm’ in response. “Thanks.”
You couldn’t define exactly what you were thanking him for, but it felt right. The way he made you feel, the way he always took care of you – it was a reassurance you didn’t know you needed.
But he didn’t ask you to elaborate, only brushing back the hair that had become stuck to your face from sweat.
“Are you tired?” he asked. It must have been clear to him that you were, what with the way your eyelids would shut and then struggle to flutter back open.
“Sleep, princess. I promise I’ll be here when you wake up.”
With that, it was only moments before you were out like a light, fully encompassed in all that was Jungkook.
A week (with many nights spent together) later, you were once again lounging in your usual spot on the couch, shamelessly ogling Jungkook as he did the cooldown for his workout. You’d already filmed a video for his Instagram earlier, the man calling you out of your room insisting you took the “best angles” and made him look “more muscular.”
With all the “research” you’d done you were positive he was quite good at setting them up himself, but you weren’t going to complain.
When he was done, body glistening with sweat, only wearing those infamous black Adidas trackpants, he made his way over to you.
“Hey, uh, Y/N...” he trailed off before seemingly gaining his confidence back. “Can we talk?”
As much as you would normally be fine holding a conversation and texting at the same time, the tinge of nervousness in his voice had you putting your phone aside, focusing your attention onto him.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yes! Fine! But uhm, I’ve been, uhh, thinking,”
“Always a relief,” you quipped.
He only gave a pained smile in response, your anxiety increasing when he didn’t give some kind of sarcastic reply. “I’ve been having some thoughts, and I took a page out of your book and turned to a very reliable source-”
“No, Reddit.”
You muffled a laugh. “Go on.”
“So you see, I uhh, went on to AskMen because I thought I needed some advice and you usually find some good advice there,” he spat out at a rapid-fire pace, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I said, ‘There’s this girl I live with who I can’t stop thinking about, and the time we spend together is always my favourite time of the day even if we don’t do anything, and the sex is also the best sex I’ve ever had. What should I do?’”
You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your blood rushing through your ears as you took in his words. You bit your lip to prevent the grin that wanted so badly to spread across your face, crossing your arms to stop yourself from springing yourself into his. “And what did they say?”
“Well, the top comment was from someone named ‘satansleftnut’-”
You couldn’t stop the peals of laughter from escaping that time, but quickly put a hand over your mouth when he shot you a look of desperation. “Sorry,” you mumbled, voice still muffled by your own hand.
“And they said, ‘you need to wife her or I will,’” he finished, fixing his determined features onto you. “So obviously I took this advice to heart. And I thought, yes, I will ask her to be my wife. No, wait-”
You pressed your hand harder into your mouth, desperately struggling to hold back the boisterous laughter threatening to escape you.
“Wait, fuck, I meant girlfriend, I promise I meant girlfriend, please don’t freak out-”
Finally letting his suffering end, you launched yourself at him, wincing slightly as your cheek came into contact with his sweaty chest. “Yes, I’ll be your wife. I mean, your girlfriend,” you teased, tipping your head back to grin at the blush colouring his cheeks.
“Really?” he responded, disbelief in his voice. He really doubted that you’d say yes, even after you’d spent the majority of the past few weeks glued to his side? Even when you’d practically done everything a couple did, now that you thought about it?
You reached up for his face, pulling his head down to press your lips together. Unlike the other kisses you typically shared, needy and messy, this was soft. Tender, loving, unassuming. Different. Good different.
Pulling away from him, you locked your eyes onto his, melting when those wide brown eyes looked into yours as though you held the universe in your grasp. You reached for his hands, twining your fingers into his.
Tagging: @ggukkieland @dee-ehn @wwilloww @sugaminh @guksanime​ @peekaboongi @bluepsycopanda​ @waweewoah @fairyqook​ @taeskoury​ @ezralia-writes​ @whaeverthe​ @mintyrae​ @dontcryjk @h34rt1lly @apollukee​ @spring2787​ @rosesareblack99​ @ggukcangetit​ @thatlongspringnight​ @jamaiskook​ @dreamystuffers​ (some users were unable to tag unfortunately!)
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venusiangguk · 2 months ago
idealizations concerning real life relations | jjk (m)
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>>pairing: jungkook x reader / fuckboy!jk x hopeless romantic!oc
>>genre: s2l, fwb, smut, angst
>>word count: 40.9k besties i am so sorry
>>warnings: jk is so sweet, but also so evil lmao, oc lives in her little noggin, angsty fwb, drug and alcohol use, tattoos, multiple smut scenes that include: oral (m/f), fingering (f), light face slapping (with hand and cock??), praise, degradation, marking, dirty talk, so many creampies yum, multiple orgasms, kissing :(, cumming in pants :), probably more but i cant think of it, ok other stuff now, manipulation, infidelity, oc thinks jk is made of stars :(, jk thinks she is so pretty :(, misunderstandings, some fluff if you squint, brunette jk, blonde jk, n blue jk,  1 mentions of: howls moving castle, too many mentions of: stars, the color pink
>>notes: bruv i do not have anything to say for myself EXCPET that i worked v hard on her and i really hope u like it <3 beta: @birbdae​ tysm for dealing with this, she is long lmao >>> soundtrack
this is split up by seasons, so if 40k is a lot for one sitting, you can read one season at a time if that is easier :)
>>summary: jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return.
 Souls are stars. Half of a star to be exact. Clearly this means your soulmate, or whatever shares the other half. 
 When you die, your body becomes the earth. The trees, the flowers, the grass. Dirt. And your soul becomes stardust that ascends back to its rightful place in the night sky until the other half of your star meets you there. 
 And there you stay until it’s your time to live again. You’re then a falling star. Shooting, flying, breaking apart as you soar across the sky. Pieces of you and them scattered who knows where, some pieces falling longer than others, some finding their place on the earth immediately. Until the universe decides to bring you back to one another. Born again. Together again. If you’re lucky enough to meet in this lifetime. But if not in this one, then perhaps the next. Or maybe you were together in the one before. Maybe it’s guaranteed. Once a lover, always a lover. In this life and in the next. 
 Who knows? You sure as hell don’t. 
 It doesn’t make sense. The way you think about the stars and the people around you. You know that. It’s not like you live by it or anything. You don’t even like space. Know that realistically stars are just gas and that when they fall from the sky they are dying, not reincarnating. They smash into the ground and then. Poof. Gone forever, nothing but a black hole left behind. You also know that soulmates are a fairytale at best and a beautifully spun cruel web of lies at worst. 
 But being a part of a star and having a… person sounds a lot better to you than eternal damnation or a forever of nothing but void darkness. 
 “Iced Hazelnut macchiato sub oat milk for __!”
 Blushing Brews is hectic but the barista is a smiling little caffeine fairy granting your wish for energy in the form of a small plastic cup. You smile as you take the drink from him. His smile is blinding, it hurts to look at him directly.
 You think that maybe not everyone is part of a star and that maybe some are just random, pointless space rocks that fall to earth. But not the barista. He’s definitely part star.
 “Thanks,” you say.
 You shuffle through the people waiting for their drinks and take a seat at your usual table. The whole coffee shop is quaint and cute, the chairs vintage and upholstered in different shades of velvet fabric. The tables have dried flowers and flakes of gold encapsulated in them. Your table is a little to the left next to the large window, with the order station still in view. You get to people watch the folks outside and person watch the one inside, only one soul able to hold your attention indoors. Aside from the friends sat with you at your table of course. You stir your drink.
 “I bet his cum tastes like the oat milk he puts in my coffee.” You stare at the barista behind the counter, innocently just doing his job, oblivious to the way he glows so bright. “Thick and creamy... kinda sweet...” 
 “You are so-” Taehyung starts. 
 “Disgusting. She’s disgusting,” Yoongi finishes for him. If the barista is a star, Yoongi is a space rock.
 You raise your eyebrows, contemplative. He’s not wrong. Dirty, nasty, disgusting. You’re all of the above. But you’re also a hopeless romantic. Forever in love with the idea of love and all the different parts of it. Always looking at every aspect of life, through rose-tinted glasses. If you wanted to idealize the barista’s sperm, you would. Who was Min Yoongi to stop you? You take a sip of the coffee the barista prepared for you. “You know he never charges me extra for it, even though he’s supposed to.”
 “He should. Considering he could probably get in trouble and also how you objectify him.” Yoongi grimaces as he downs his black espresso.  
 “I don’t objectify him, I romanticize him. I simply observe him and speak everything that goes on in my pretty little head.” Both of your friends give you a flat stare. “Okay, it’s not like he doesn’t know what he’s doing.” He may not know the extent of his charm, but you know he knows he’s charming. “He has a whole sleeve and wears massive stompers to crush hearts. What’s he doing working in a coffee shop?”
 “His job?”
 “No. He’s trying to subtly leave an impression on unsuspecting creative writing majors that never had a strong male figure in their life, just so he can further ingrain in their head that while he is breathtaking, and makes an incredible iced hazelnut macchiato sub oat milk, he will surely leave just like everyone else, only to become a distant pink memory that they can’t forget, no matter how hard they try and how insignificant.”
 “He doesn’t even know your name,” Taehyung says, with a roll of his eyes.
 “How can you go from talking about his nut to calling him breathtaking and pink?” Yoongi pulls his laptop out, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips.
 “Of course he knows my name. Also. You know what else I bet is pink? His big fat-”
 “Shut up.”
 You hum, swiftly transitioning. “I’m multifaceted and the definition of dichotomy.” Out comes your notebook. You could at least look like you’re being productive. “I only handwrite poetry and I pull over when I see a field of flowers and I think we are all made of stars, but I also like getting railed and degraded, as well as emotionally demeaned,” You pause, thinking for just a moment, “Though that’s more for my art than anything. Duality.”
 “You’re something, that’s for sure. Don’t look now but barista baby is walking this way.”
 Barista baby. A pastel feeling starts to creep its way over your skin, leaving goosebumps, and a blush in its wake. You glance in the direction of the counter and sure enough, during a lull in traffic he’s out from behind the counter and he looks like he’s coming directly for you. His big black pants that are decorated with a chain jingle as he takes heavy steps with boot-clad feet. Maybe you’re dramatic but you think you can see a trail of stardust behind him. You look away. Too bright.
 “Hey, can I clear these cups for you?” he asks, reaching for Yoongi’s empty one, and Taehyung’s mostly full one. His voice is deep and as soft as the velvet you’re sitting on. He pauses when he feels the weight of Taehyung’s cup. “Oh sorry about that.” He sets it back down.
 “Take it, he doesn’t even like coffee, he just gets it for the aesthetic. He’s an art major.” You roll your eyes, sipping your drink.
 “Why do you add my major at the end of every insult?” Taehyung groans at you before turning to the barista. “Do you even know her name?”
 “Taehyung!” you gasp. Yoongi’s laughing quietly next to you, typing away.
 The barista looks between you and your friend hesitantly before saying. “Of course I do, it’s __. She comes in here like at least 3 times a week.”
 Taehyung sniffs and you beam.
 “Do you know my name?” the barista quizzes.
 Your eyes flicker from his face down to the little chalkboard name tag attached to the mauve apron that he’s wearing over his short sleeve black shirt. ‘JK ♥’ is written in pink chalk. Cute.
 “Yeah it’s JK,” you say, leaning forward on the table, giving him your full attention.
 He smirks. “Don’t let my manager hear that. It’s actually Jeongguk.”
 “Well, Jeongguk, you would not believe what __ had to say about the oat milk you guys have here. She said-” Taehyung starts.
 “I said,” you cut him off shooting him daggers, “That it’s super thick and creamy, really yummy.”
 “Speaking of oat milk,” Jeongguk says unfazed, “You literally break my heart every time you stir that drink.” He leans forward bracing his hands on the table, kinda crowding your space, and nods his head in the direction of your half-empty, light brown coffee.
 ‘You literally break my heart every time you look at me.’ You think. You slow blink at him. “Why is that?”
 “It’s supposed to be consumed in layers.” His eyes are twinkling, and his smile is just a little crooked.
 You hum, thoughtfully. “Would it make you happy if I consumed it in layers?” You look up at him through your eyelashes. He’s trying to suppress a smile, his shoulders shaking lightly with poorly concealed laughter.
 Taehyung fights back a gag as he chokes on the tension radiating off of you and Jeongguk. Quickly he raises to his feet, and snatches Yoongi’s laptop right from his hands, tucking it underneath his arm before he’s pulling the older boy out of his seat. 
 “Yoongi I just remembered that we need to finish that project-“
 “Tae you’re an art major, and I’m an engineering major. Our classes are in completely different buildings. There’s actually no plausible way for that to be believable and I would literally never pick you as my partner. One because you…” They fade out as they get closer to the door, making their exit.
 Jeongguk glances at the newly free seat before peeking at the counter. Still no queue. He takes it upon himself to sit. He places his chin on his hands, tattoos and rings on full display. “Yeah. It would.” He states plainly.
 You shift in your seat. It’s so hard to look at a star close up. You squint. “What if that made me not happy?” It truly would ruin your day. Why would you drink straight oat milk, and then straight espresso when you could mix it and enjoy both flavors at once?
 He searches your features before cocking his head to the side, a tiny closed-lip smile on his face. “What would make you happy then?”
 Your heartbeat is fast and heavy and you can hear it in your ears, everything else subdued and muted. You bring a well-manicured hand down trace at one of the blossoms in the table. You can’t look at him anymore, not when you say it. With faux confidence you speak, “You could take me out.” 
 You see him tense in your peripheral. You’re still tracing the flower, breath stuck in your throat. 
 “No,” he says. Your hand jerks, ruining the perfect petals you’ve been outlining. You recover quickly, clearing your throat.
 “You could take me out.”
 Your head whips up. Eyes wide and doe-like before you get your composure. You scoff. “What’s the difference? Also, why haven’t you talked to me before?”
 He looks like he’s thinking, a brief flicker of something flashes in his eyes, gone too fast for you to place it. He looks like he’s settling when he says, “I like to be pursued.” 
 A smile slowly graces your lips. You nod. “Fair enough.”
 He brings his hand down and brushes his pinky against your finger that was tracing the flower. It’s weird how your whole body burns hot and ignites from such a small touch. “I gotta go,” he says, tone soft and hazy and baby pink. 
 You glance towards the door just as a couple walks in. You purse your lips and make a soft agreeing noise.
 Jeongguk raises from his seat, smoothing out his apron. He’s walking away when you speak up.
 “Why don’t you ever charge me for the oat milk?”
 He glances back at you, a radiant star-filled smile on his face. “To make you happy.”
 A small rush of air pushes past your lips as you watch him walk away. You wonder if anyone has ever been successful when pursuing a star. 
 You do your best to get to work, though your eyes keep flickering to the counter. Jeongguk catches you just once or twice. Each time he smiles and looks away, focusing once again on the orders he’s being given. 
 The couple that interrupted your and Jeongguk’s conversation ends up sitting a few tables away. Not close enough for you to hear, but close enough for you to watch. Ever the daydreamer, you wonder what they are saying. What should we get for lunch? Did you call your mom like you said you would? Do you want to stay the night? Are you the other half of my star?
 The girl is offering the boy a sip of her drink, his hand coming up to cover hers as he guides it to his mouth. She smiles big, eyes half crescents, when he nods in approval, leaning in to place a soft kiss on her cheek, grinning into it. They settle into a conversation, hands moving, heads shaking.
 You close your notebook and head to campus. Jeongguk doesn’t notice you’ve left until a few hours later.
 “Fancy seeing you here!”
 You jump, almost knocking over your coffee and glance next to you to see the beautiful boy who scared you. 
 Jeongguk is fresh-faced with his eyes brighter than ever, and he smells like freshly ground coffee beans. The expensive imported kind. From Colombia or something. Maybe Paris. You think a pretty boy like Jeongguk would look good in Paris. Anywhere beautiful really. A beautiful boy in a beautiful place. It just makes sense. He’s still got his apron on and his hair is tied up today, little flyaways framing his face like a halo. 
 “Is it really?” you ask, trying to sound bored. Trying to quiet the butterflies in your tummy. 
 You’ve got your laptop with you. No distractions in the form of pointless scribbles or poorly written couplets about boys with coffee eyes and kisses that probably taste like coffee to match, today! You’ve got a Humanities paper due in about 8 hours.
 “I guess not, considering you’re here literally all the time.” He grins and scoots closer. “What are you doing?”
 “I have a paper due later, so I’m just finishing that up.” You ignore the scoff he makes when he sees you’ve barely got half a page written.
 Jeongguk reaches to his other side and offers up a new coffee, figuring yours would be watered down by now. Considering you’ve been here since opening. It's particularly quiet for a Friday, but the lull in business is always welcome. Jeongguk glances to the counter at the storefront, only to find that Jimin’s staring and when he catches Jeongguk’s eye, he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. Jeongguk smiles a tiny grin, but other than that, the other barista is swiftly ignored.
 You take the coffee with a small ‘Thank you.’ and then hold his gaze as you deliberately stir it, mixing the carefully poured layers. You smile when Jeongguk’s eye twitches.
 “Very unhappy right now.”
 You sip away.
 “What’s your major?”
 “Creative writing. Do you go to school? I haven’t seen you around campus.” You make sure to save what you have so far, just in case you get even more distracted and forget to do so later. 
 He shakes his head, pretty earring twinkling in the window light. “I would hate to be stuck somewhere for 4 years, and then not even be guaranteed a job after all that debt I would be in.” He pauses and then chuckles at how gloomy he sounds. “I do apprentice at a tattoo shop every now and again. Your major makes sense though. Seems fitting.”
 You tuck the tattoo apprenticeship information away, saving it for a later conversation. “How do you know what fits me?” 
 His expression is sly. “I know more about you than you think. I hear the way you talk about things, and see how you look at them. Plus you’ve always got your nose in your notebook. Do you want to be an author?”
 You scoff and roll your eyes, a trace of bitterness seeping through and tainting your expression. “We all want to be authors.” You unfold and refold the napkin in your hand, before tossing it to the side. “I’m going to be an editor, or a journalist, or... something.”
 “Don’t worry you have time to think about it.”
 You give him a sideways glance. “I mean- not really, I graduate at the end of the spring semester.”
 He regards you with curious eyes for a second. He looks like he’s trying to figure you out. His eyebrows furrow like he comes up empty with no explanation for what he is wondering. So with a faint confused smile, he asks, “Why do you live like that?”
 You place the coffee you were about to sip back down, caught off guard a little by his genuinely inquisitive and soft tone. “Like what? With long term goals?”
 He laughs, loud. It’s brash and startling in the quiet coffee shop. He throws his head back and his eyes crinkle. Some people turn to look at you both. You don’t care. “I mean that’s one way of saying it. But what I mean is like- what if you change your mind? Or like I don’t know… get bored?”
 You pause. It’s a loaded, scary question. You wonder if the jobs you listed would really be enough to satisfy someone like you. Someone who’s always thinking about things in a way that makes them seem better than they are. Someone who sees things in extremes and thinks stars are inside of people. Someone who has a constant feeling inside that always wants more. You wonder if you actually will get bored. What you’d do if you did. You don’t want to think about it anymore, so you don’t. Instead, simply stating, “I love writing. I won’t change my mind about that, and as long as I’m doing something that has to do with it, then I’ll be fine.” You think you’re telling the truth, mostly at least.
 He makes a soft noise of understanding, but you’re not sure if he actually does.
 “I guess if I had something I loved like you love writing then I would see things differently. I just don’t love anything that much. Nothing but my freedom. And it seems like everything tries to take that away eventually.”
 Your breath catches and you think something cracks inside of you. Can you ever truly contain a star? Or is it the tighter you hold it, the more likely it is to explode? A supernova waiting to happen?
 Before you can respond he speaks up again. “But hey, listen. We should, like, hang out.”
 “Oh? I thought you wanted me to take you out?” You jest.
 He rolls his eyes, fighting a smile. “You’re still going to.” 
 The thing about being a hopeless romantic is that you think about life in could be’s. You could be his, he could be yours. You paint a picture of potential in your head, all different shades of pink and red and doused in stardust. 
 You’re levelheaded and sane in most areas of your life, can understand the consequences of moving too fast, not taking the time to think, and not seeing things for what they truly are. But when it comes to things that have to do with liking, with loving, with wanting… You’re brash and eager. You cling to idealizations and dream of scenarios. It makes you infatuated quick, attached even quicker. It’s not a bad thing really. You just fall fast and love easily. You’re good at hiding it, but that sweet pink feeling? It’s always there, just simmering under the surface. 
 The party is loud and so is your beating heart. Thump, thump, thump. The room has an almost opaque hazy feeling to it, smoke lingering in the air from whatever everyone is smoking. You take a sip from your red plastic cup, grimace, then drink some more. You don’t drink that often, but it's nice. Once you can’t taste or feel the burn of it anymore. Once it makes you float a little. People are bumping into you, as you leave the kitchen. You just refilled your drink. Vodka and some juice this time. 
 He’s running towards you at the speed of light. At least it seems like it. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s because he’s just fast. Maybe it’s just because you've got a crush. He doesn’t need to run, you’ll still be there. He’s stopped by people here and there, ugly moths flocking to a bright flame. He flutters away with soft dismissive smiles, a few ‘Hey I’ll catch you later, okay?’s. It makes you feel fuzzy.
 “You made it!” He’s beaming, and he’s not out of breath but his chest is moving a little faster than normal. You can see his muscles through the thin fabric of the t-shirt he’s wearing. You stare. He crowds your space, comes close enough for your hand that’s holding your drink to bump into his tummy. Very firm, very strong tummy. He’s so warm, kinda sweaty from all the excess body heat in the room. Or maybe he was dancing. You wanna watch. See how he moves. You take another drink, grazing his stomach as you bring your arm back down.
 “You came,” He says again. He’s talking to the top of your head, mostly, your eyes still distracted. His hand comes up to grip at the elbow of your bent arm, just resting there. Just touching.
 At last, look up at him, and you have to consciously take a breath. He’s glowing so bright in the hazy, smoky room, surely he doesn’t belong here. At the party. On Earth. He’s wearing a wide neck tee, it shows off the length of his collarbones. They are pretty, strong. But you don’t linger.  And you ignore the fresh blossoms of sore red skin that are already there. Just peeking out. You showed up late. Jeongguk doesn’t seem like the type to wait. Not that he was waiting for you. Maybe he was. You hope he was. Even if he found things to keep him occupied while doing so.
 “Yeah, I came.” You look at him over the lip of your cup. You’re almost there, almost floating.
 He doesn’t say anything when he takes the cup from your hand, holding it from the top, taking a sip of his own. He doesn’t grimace. Maybe he’s already used to the taste. You’d say something but the drinks make you a little sluggish, your quick-wit slowed down. You’re not drunk, far from it, you’re just feeling... nice. He takes your hand, drags you through the crowd of people. That feels nice too. His hand is big and warm, kinda rough yet baby soft at the same time. You’ve always loved contradictions. He’s pulling you to the living room. There’s a ratty couch in the corner with your name on it. Probably spelled in a variety of questionable fluids.
 “My friends-” you say realizing you lost Taehyung and Yoongi.
 “They’ll find you, don’t worry. The house isn’t that big.” It’s kind of hard to hear him. You lean closer.
 To your surprise, Yoongi and Taehyung are actually already there, making quick friends with the other barista from Blushing Brews. Jimin, you remember Jeongguk mentioning him here and there. A few other people are around too, some you vaguely recognize from campus or just around, some you’ve never seen before. There’s not that much room on the couch.
 You glance up at Jeongguk, but he doesn’t seem bothered, easily finding a place for himself. He’s still got your hand, so you’re dragged with him, settling half on his lap half on the cushion. You’re kind of sideways, back against the arm of the couch, side pressed against him, legs over his lap. His hand is on your mid-thigh, fingers on the inner seam of your jeans. He’s not doing anything but it feels good. He’s got his other arm around the armrest of the sofa, around you. It’s a little too hot to be sitting so close, but you don’t say anything and neither does he.
 The conversation around you is hectic, bouncing from topic to topic. You’re content just sitting and listening, casually just nursing your drink. Taehyung’s going on about the latest piece for his portfolio and how he got accepted to be part of the university’s winter showcase which was kinda of a big deal, and a guy named Namjoon is talking about the wonders of botany, and the medicinal benefits of plants. There’s a couple of girls around too, you smile whenever you accidentally make eye contact with them while people watching. They smile back, eyes flitting curiously between you and Jeongguk. He squeezes your thigh. You press them together, subconsciously, mostly a natural reaction.
 “Hey,” He says quietly, so only you hear.
 You turn your head to look at him, instead of the people around you. You make a surprised noise when you see how close you are, noses almost touching, him already looking at you. You question him with a look.
 He doesn’t need to, your proximity already near, but he presses his lips against your hair, right next to your ear, his cheek brushing yours. “Are you comfy?” You feel him smile more than see it. 
 You wiggle your toes in your sneakers, press your side a little closer to his chest. “Mhmm.” You glance down when you feel his fingers start to trace the seam of your pants, no longer just squeezing and holding. You honestly can’t help it if you spread your legs just a bit wider in response. You think you feel his breath hitch, before you definitely feel his hand settle high on your inner thigh. It’s nothing scandalous, but it’s something. Makes that sickly sweet feeling boil in your belly.
 “You look pretty.” There’s a lazy grin on his face, he’s looking at you with so much contentment that it makes you squirm. You wonder if he’s high. His hand on your thigh tightens. You ask him if he is.
 He giggles, cute and quiet before pressing his face into your shoulder like he’s embarrassed. “No, I was but not anymore.” When he looks at you again, his cheeks are tinted pink. He looks pretty too. You tell him.
 He rolls his eyes, and looks like he’s about to argue. But the bubble you both were protected in is popped by Jimin’s loud voice, mentioning his name.
 “Don’t let Jeongguk hear you say that. He’s the most cynical person I know. Will crush the little daydream in your head so quick.”
 Jeongguk laughs, before chiming in, “Who’s day do I need to ruin?”
 One of the guys you don’t know speaks up. He’s got broad shoulders and plump lips. “Hyeon, over here thinks she’s found her soulmate in the form of her Mathematics professor.” He rolls his eyes like it’s the most absurd thing he’s ever heard. 
 You look at the girl and she’s laughing light heartedly, not taking the jabs too seriously. You catch Yoongi’s eye, and he’s already looking at you, eyes bubbling with soft concern, like he knows where this conversation is going to go. 
 Jeongguk adjusts you on his lap, not much, just enough so he can sit up some more and be fully attentive. He keeps his hands all over you. You don’t miss the way almost everyone’s eyes are on you, nosy and full of questions.
 “Hyeon, let me ask you this. Let’s say on the incredibly off chance soulmates do exist, why the fuck would he be in your hometown, that you literally have never left? There’s 7 billion people in the world and you think you met your ‘one true love’ at your University?” he even uses air-quotes. 
 Hyeon sniffs, and turns her nose up. “I think it’s fate that-“
 Jeongguk interrupts her with an obnoxious buzzer noise. “EH. Wrong. Please Hyeon. Believing in that shit is just setting yourself up for disappointment.” He shakes his head, exasperated, before he settles back into the couch. His fingers start tickling your inner thigh again.
 Everyone’s kinda chuckling, even Taehyung when he asks, “Damn man… Who the fuck hurt you?”
 Everyone really chuckles at that. Except Jeongguk. He shrugs trying to come off unbothered. Calm, cool, and collected. Like he didn’t just passionately crush a girl’s hopes of finding the one. Although you will admit, falling for your university teacher probably wasn’t the best path to follow on the quest for finding your person. 
 “No one,” Jeongguk says, “I just think it’s stupid.”
 Jimin cackles, high pitched and teasing. “Yeah okay. Don’t listen to him. He got his heart broke a few years ago and hasn’t been the same since.”
 Jeongguk laughs like he’s over it. You wonder if he is. “Shut the fuck up Jimin.” His eyes still have starshine in them when he turns his attention back to you. “I’m gonna go get another drink. Do you want one?”
 You shake your head, giving him a small smile. He squeezes your thigh before he goes, leaving with a quiet, “Stay here okay? I’ll be right back.” 
 Taehyung’s quick to take his place, plopping your legs in his lap like Jeongguk had. “You okay?”
 He says it lightly like he’s trying to not make it a big deal. And it’s not. Not really. Sure you thought of a few could be’s and wished on a few stars. But you know he’s right in some ways. It’s a good thing you don’t really believe in soulmates either. Not really. You believe in people and in stars. In could be’s.
 “Yeah I’m good.” You say back quiet. “I don’t believe in them either. Not seriously.” You try to laugh off his incredulous look. 
 “Are you really? I saw you writing about him, and you’ve been like extra daydreamy lately.”
 You roll your eyes. “First of all, don’t snoop. Second of all, it’s just a crush.” You shrug.
 He looks at you a little sadly. “We both know you don’t have ‘just crushes’.”
 “Actually, I do, now. So please drop it, and go flirt with Jimin some more. I’m going to the bathroom.” You swing your legs off him and wander around for a little bit. You didn’t really have to pee that bad to begin with.
 During your house roaming escapades, you accidentally walked in on a few people, and never actually found the bathroom you were supposed to be in. Now you’re in a hallway, looking at an elaborate family photo wall. Turns out you have no clue whose house this is, despite Jeongguk mentioning the guy went to your university.
 There’s old photos of a couple that turn to marriage photos of a couple. The couple posed in front of a house. Then there’s baby photos, turned into school photos. Color coordinated christmas cards. You squint. You know pictures don’t really tell you much,  but they look happy. With their picturesque life. You wonder if the parents share a star. 
 You jump and let out a squeak when you feel a hand grab the bend of your elbow and spin you around. 
 “There you are,” Jeongguk sing-songs, trying to not laugh at the noise you made. “I was looking for you.”
 You lean against the opposite wall of the pictures. He crowds your space. He smells good. You don’t know how you didn’t notice when you were on the couch with him. Maybe it was the smoke floating around. It’s a little easier to breathe here, in the random hallway you found. Or at least it was till he showed up. 
 “You found me.” You sing back. He smiles, almost shyly. But his eyes drop to your lips and then back up.
 “What were you doing?” He asks. He moves to lean against the wall next to you, trying to get a look at what you were distracted by when he found you.
 “Just being nosy.” You hum. “Did you get your drink?” 
 He looks down at his empty hands, and then leans his head back on the wall, laughing softly to himself. A little drop of sweat rolls down his extended neck. You swallow. It’s still early to mid fall. The weather is still hot enough. Plus all the bodies in the house. Plus he’s a star, always burning so bright. Must be tiring. Sweat inducing.
 “I think I forgot it when I went looking for you.” He rolls his head to the side to look at you, and he’s got that lazy grin on his face again. 
 “Wanna go get it?” You ask, already pushing yourself off the wall.
 He’s quick when he stops you, hand on your shoulder gently guiding you back. He’s in front of you again, closer this time. Hotter.
 “No, no. It’s okay. We’re- good here. This is good.” His eyes keep flickering to your lips. It’s making you squirm, something starts to stir in your belly. You shift under his gaze.
 “Do you do this with all of your friends?” Your voice is softer now, the casual atmosphere you both were just in, long gone. The tension is tangible now and you’re too scared to speak up, afraid you might break if you do. 
 He hums, angling his body even closer to you. Your back is against the wall now, and the sounds of the party around you are muffled. One of his arms comes up, bracing his forearm by your head bracketing you in on one side. His other hand comes up to toy with the bottom of your shirt. “Do what with them?” His voice is just as soft. 
 You swallow. “Look at them like you’re gonna kiss them.”
 His eyes twinkle as he looks at you, eyes dropping to your lips again. He licks his own, and now they’re wet. The light hits them just right to make them shine. What do stars taste like? He drags his gaze back up deliberately slow. “Yeah. I kiss all my friends.” It’s said on an exhale as he leans closer to you. His lips graze your ear. “Don’t you?”
 You let out a trembling breath, shaking your head. A warning signal goes off in your brain, red-lights flashing. That’s a red flag, you’re sure of it. But for some reason, in your mind, the lights, the flag… they look pink, almost enticing instead of worrisome. The blaring warning alarms slow and blur into a melodious siren song.
 He’s shifting closer again. The heat from his body is scalding. Part of you wishes you could move back, most of you wants to press into it. Get burned just a little. “You don’t?” he asks. There’s a little bit of a teasing lilt to his voice, you can hear the smile. “Why’s that?” The hand by your head plays with a small piece of your long hair, twirling it around his fingers. You get a glimpse of his tattoos. Pretty.
 You struggle to find something to say. You don’t want to say you only kiss your boyfriends, you don’t want to scare him. Because you want this, you do. You just- “I- I only kiss special friends.” -want it to mean something. 
 It rushes past your lips and you’re not able to stop it. Not able to really think about what you’re saying. Not able to think about what you’re implying, what you’re agreeing to. You feel his grip on your hip tighten a little, and his body pushes towards you, just grazing yours. He’s not hard yet but he’s excited. Cock a little thicker and heavier and pushing out just a little more than normal. Your eyes squeeze shut and you try not to whimper. 
 He nuzzles against your temple. “That’s good, we can be special friends. I like that.” 
 He’s leaning in and you’re about to ask him if he means it, the thing he said about liking it, but the tension is shattered and the fragile atmosphere is ruined. 
 “Gguk! You better leave that poor girl alone!”
 It’s said by Jimin, it’s always him it seems. He’s drunk and hauled over Taehyung’s shoulder, just passing by the hallway you’re in on their way to presumably the bedrooms. There’s a few people laughing and following them, waiting for a show and consequently, some filter into your secret hallway and take it upon themselves to make it their space as well.
 Jeongguk sighs, forehead resting against yours. “I gotta go make sure he wraps it.” He sounds annoyed but amused. “He’s had chlamydia one too many times. Insurance won’t cover his clinic costs anymore.”
 You snort. “Please tell me you’re joking.” You tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. Actions bold for the fragile feeling floating around you both. His eyes track the movement and you don’t miss how he tenses before your arm falls back to your side. 
 “Yeah I am, but I should still go make sure he’s being safe.” 
 You nod. “You’re a good friend, Jeongguk.”
 He rolls his eyes, playful when he squeezes your hip. “Don’t forget you still have to take me out.” 
 “I won’t.”
 His smile matches your own. “I’ll see you?”
 You nod again, as he turns to jog in the direction that Jimin and Taehyung went. You wish he looked back. Oh well.
 Early to mid-fall bleeds into late autumn.Still warm during the day like a soft summer’s kiss, just a little chilly during nightfall like the last words of a past lover. You and Jeongguk haven’t talked about the party. And he hasn’t tried to kiss you since. Things are different though. Soft touches here and there, more frequent than before. Even softer, stilted flirting ensued during the following weeks. He wasn’t acting shy, never that. 
 But it’s like he was waiting for you. Waiting to be pursued. You guess. It’s clear he wants more, but it's almost like he doesn’t want to be the one to push for it. Give in to it. You don’t really know. You also don’t think too much about it. Don’t think a lot about anything other than him, and the next time you’ll see him, next moment you’ll get to spend time with him. Usually, you don’t have to wait too long. He spends most of his breaks with you at the coffee shop, now. It’s a sweet thing he does, just like how he’s been putting that extra pump of sweetener into your drink lately.
 Today, however, you are not at Blushing Brews, you’re at the fair. Large rides and crooked games line the surrounding area of the boardwalk, sounds of people screaming and laughing fill the air. It smells like heart disease and the salty ocean. It’s not too crowded, it’s been open for a while, you came on one of the last days it was in town. 
 “This is me taking you out by the way,” you say around a spoonful of frozen cherry limeade.
 Jeongguk hums as he leans down, wanting a taste. You want to taste too, just not of his frozen lemonade. You scoop a heaping amount. Maybe he’ll get a brain freeze. 
 “You don’t say?” He smiles before wincing, mouth forming a small ‘o’. He’s blowing out like he’s trying to warm the inside of his mouth. You smile, spoon between your teeth. 
 “Tasty?” you ask, trying to stifle a laugh.
 “Cold.” he responds, still trying to melt the icy slush in his mouth. He offers you a bite of his.
 “Too sour,” you decline. “I only like sweet things.” 
 The wind is blowing, the breeze is pleasant after running around the fair all day. Hours have gone by, playing games that you both know are rigged, bartering with the worker until you’re giving up and buying the prize you want anyway, a medium sized Hello Kitty plush with a pink bow. Riding rides that are terrifying simply because they get taken apart and put back together, time and time again. Eating way too many fried foods and drinking far more sugary drinks than is healthy. But neither you or Jeongguk have mentioned wanting to leave.  
 You walk the boardwalk and take a seat at the ledge of the pier and Jeongguk’s close by following suit. Feet are dangling off the edge, and a soft mist of salty water tickles your ankles. It’s night time now. The stars are bright in their home. You lean back and brace yourself on your extended arms, palms on the wooden pier.
 “You know that stuff you said at the party? About soulmates?” You’re not looking at him, eyes up towards the sky. You can feel him gazing at your profile though. It burns a little. Everything about him is hot. Not unbearably so. Kinda like when you turn the shower on as hot as it can go. Scalding, but good.
 “About all of it being bullshit?” he laughs to himself. “Yeah I remember. I’ll say it again too.” He knocks your extended elbow causing it to buckle, playful and cheery like he always is. How can being around him be such a contradiction? Light-hearted yet suffocating. Doesn’t matter really. Not like you’re going to stop. Not until he tells you to. You scowl at him before righting yourself.
 You’re quiet for a moment, long enough for Jeongguk to follow your gaze and glance at the navy blanket above you both. “I believe it,” you state.
 He’s looking at you again. You look at him as well, face impassive. “You do?” he asks. He doesn't really sound surprised. Why would he be? What writer doesn’t believe in something as far fetched as reciprocated love?
 You shrug lightly. “Maybe not like soulmates. But I think we have like… a person that we could spend a really long time with. Forever even. Maybe longer if we’re lucky.” He doesn’t say anything so you continue. “I also think we are all part of the stars. And we share a star with our person.”
 Jeongguk’s confused to say the least but he goes with it. You live in a constant daydream, and he knew you had your head in the clouds when he first met you, decided that he wanted you. “If we’re stars, how do we get to earth?”
 “We fall. Falling stars,” you explain. He makes a soft sound of acknowledgement.
 You both fall silent, the distant sound of laughter and the rolling waves the only thing letting you know the world hasn’t fallen mute. The reflection on the moon dances on the ripples of the ocean.
 “How did you… come to this conclusion?”
 Again you shrug. You lay back on the salty, sandy wood of the dock. “I don’t know really. I just like the sound of it. The idea.” You give a half suppressed laugh, feeling kinda silly. He lays down next to you, attention fully taken by the stars. 
 You don’t know why. He sees himself everyday.
 “So you really have no idea?”
 “I mean…” you start. Think a short moment. “We really don’t have any idea about anything we can’t physically see. Right? Like we have no idea if heaven’s real or not because we can’t see it. Hell too. I don’t even know if Australia is a real place.”
 Jeongguk chuckles. “Of course it’s real.”
 “How do you know? Have you been? Have you seen the alleged opera house? A kangaroo even?” You raise your eyebrows challenging him.
 He’s shaking his head like he can’t believe you. He’s smiling though. Always shining. “I’ve seen pictures. And other people have been.”
 “And you just believe them? People say they have been to heaven, there’s pictures of angels.”
 A staring contest ensues before he’s rolling his eyes, giving up. He waves a lazy, bony hand. Wrist limp, as he gestures for you to just get on with it. 
 A smug grin graces your lips. “It’s the same with soulmates. People think they are real, claim to have met theirs on some off chance. But, that’s all subjective hearsay.” You kick your feet, still dangling, just tempting the ocean to drag you in. Maybe a shark will get you. Maybe a sea spirit. “But… the stars? They are right there. People? Literally everywhere. You? You’re right next to me. I can see all of it. I know it’s all there, and real. There’s a connection. It means something I think.”
 He hums a few times like he’s processing something, trying to figure out how to word the thoughts running around in his mind. He takes a deep breath. “Stars are really big you know. Don’t you think it's… I don’t know, like suffocating for the star to confine them to being someone’s soulmate?”
 “Not soulmate.”
 “You know what I mean.”
 Head shaking, you deny what he says. “No, I don’t think it’s confining or suffocating. Being important to someone is so special; precious. A big deal for them.” You nod towards the sky.
 When he whispers, it’s said so quietly you almost miss it, “What if the star doesn’t want that?”
 His words hurt for some reason. It’s stupid, and you can’t explain it, but the ache is piercing, like a sweet tooth left untreated for too long, slowly decaying, sharp stabs of pain throbbing.
 “Don’t you think the stars get lonely?” You murmur back. 
 He swallows audibly, and you hear him let out a breath that trembles just a hint too much to be considered normal. Jeongguk rolls to his side so he’s facing you, he has a dopey smile on his face, just a little bit crooked and uneven. It looks forced, but you let him have it. “Well… which star am I then? If we all are made of stardust.” He’s trying to tease. Trying to breathe.
 You look at him with a light blush on your cheeks. The multicolored fair lights are glowing over his face, rapidly changing color. It’s like you’re looking at him through a kaleidoscope. It’s dizzying. That’s not why your stomach is doing flips though. You roll over to your side, body to body. Only a few inches in between you both. 
 “You’d be the north star, I think.”
 He hums, closes his eyes so his lashes kiss the apple of his cheek, a soft expression taking over his features. They're still shut when he ponders, “Why would I be that one?”
 You don’t have to think about it. “Because it's the brightest star in the whole sky.” 
 His brows furrow before he opens his eyes, he looks confused. “Which one are you?”
 You shrug again. He keeps asking you questions you don’t know the answers to. You don’t even like space that much. Just the idea of it. You like the idea of a lot of things. 
 “I don’t know if I’m star material.” You laugh rolling onto your back again, looking up once more. The stars look so close, right next to each other, but in reality they are so far apart. You think about how you and Jeongguk are separated by just a few inches. A foot at most. Yet in this moment, it feels like you couldn’t reach him if you tried. “I’m probably like a space rock or something. So essentially the same. Just less luxurious. People don’t make wishes on me. Space rocks are pretty pointless and useless. Just look at Yoongi. He’s a space rock too.” You’re laughing as you say it. Jeongguk’s not.
 “I shouldn’t be that one,” he whispers. “And if someone like me gets to be a star, then you get to be one too.”
 A small smile is still on your face when you gaze at him again. “Someone like you?”
 He nods.
 You giggle. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
 He regards you, eyes taking every inch of your face like he’s trying to memorize you. The freckle by your eye, the faintest scar near your lip. “I think you’ll find out, eventually.” He sounds off when he answers.
 Still, you don’t hesitate. “I hope so.”
 The room is big but you’re sitting close to him.
 “No! No! You’re like not that bad... honestly! If the whole creative writing thing doesn’t work out you could be an idol.” 
 You know the boy next to you is lying. You know he is because your voice keeps cracking. Going flat or sharp whenever you get a turn on the mic. Pfft. You never could have been an idol. But when you glance at him, your cheeks aren’t flushed with embarrassment. They are flushed because of how much you have been laughing, because of the pink fuzzy feeling bubbling in your chest. You’ll probably burst soon. Jeongguk’s eyes are gleaming, and his lips are pursed trying to hold back his smile. Maybe it’s better that way. You wouldn’t want to be blinded. His smile too bright and full of the stars. It’s been hard to look at him the last few months. 
 “You are such a liar!” You’re giggling as you playfully swat at his shoulder. 
 But your laughter quiets when you feel his big hand grip around your tiny wrist before you can land a hit. His long fingers overlapping where they meet at your bone. Your eyes flick between the connected skin and his face and that’s when it happens. The world starts to move slower around the sun, and your heart makes up for it by beating that much faster. You see his doe eyes dance between all your features paying special mind to your lips. The tension between you both is tangible and hot, burning. And it’s going to happen. After months, ages, of stilted flirting and wavering touches and poorly hidden desire. Jeongguk is going to kiss you. 
 Your lashes are fluttering, your eyes are closing, and you’re leaning forward to meet him halfway when you hear: 
 “Do you have any?”
 Your eyes open wide to see his mirroring yours, and your breath stutters out in quiet shock. Embarrassing. 
 “W-what?” You do your best to keep your voice steady, but you’re flustered. He’s so close and his eyes are so focused. There are stars in them too. 
 The grip on your wrist tightens a bit bringing your attention to your attached limbs. Yours still raised mid-strike, his raised in mid-defense. His eyes flick to his decorated forearm. Your brows furrow. 
 “Any tattoos?” You ask. 
 Jeongguk’s little pink tongue darts out to wet his lips before he nods and lets out a small affirmative noise. 
 You flex your hand in his hold and glance at the ink all over it. He has knuckle and hand tattoos, along with random other designs littering his skin. 
 You blush. “Yeah I have a tiny black cat on my ankle… It’s supposed to be the cat from Kiki’s Delivery Service?”
 You expected him to think it was silly, childish, but he smiles instead. “Jiji?”
 You grin back and nod.
 His lips purse together and his eyes peek at your lips again. “Did it hurt?” he muses.
 You laugh a little. A breathy, incredulous thing sneaking past your lips. “I mean you know for yourself. Your whole arm is covered.” You nod your head at his arm, and your fingers twitch in his grasp, like they want to touch, trace the dark lines on his comparatively fair skin. 
 The blush that falls on his cheeks is cute, but you don’t allow yourself to dwell on it, still feeling a bit childish and silly for letting your thoughts run away from you just a moment ago. Thinking he was going to finally kiss you. Tsk. Embarrassing. 
 “It hurt yeah,” he says chuckling to himself, “But Jiji is black right? So it must be dark? That hurts worse. Especially on the ankle.” his boot-clad foot nudges up against the ankle where he knows the piece is, brushing against it gently. He doesn’t take his eyes off your face. 
 You think about the fact that he knows which ankle you have tattooed, the way he knows what technique was used on it. How he knew it was a dark, filled in tattoo, not just an outline like it very well could have been, without even having to look away from you to peek at it and double check. You think about how he asked, just to ask, despite already knowing. You think about what that could mean. You think about how he must have been paying attention to you, taking in small details about you and filing them away without you even knowing or noticing. You think about how he maybe just wants to hear you talk sometimes. The gulp is audible when you swallow down the sweet, tingly feeling that’s crawling up your throat like bile. 
 It’s only you two in the noraebang room, the distant sound from the rooms surrounding is loud, loud enough for you to speak up. And yet your voice comes out as a soft whisper when you answer. He leans closer to hear you. “It hurt at first, when he went over it, you know? But after a while... I don’t know. It felt like warm? I kind of liked it. You know... the pain.”
 All the noises of the rooms next to you cease and it’s like your ears are filled with cotton candy clouds. All the sensitivity leaving them and migrating to your other senses making them heightened. You watch with clear eyes as Jeongguk’s pupils dilate. 
 “Do you think I liked it? When it hurt, when I got all mine done?” He asks. You can’t tell if he’s being quiet on purpose or if it’s still the baby pink clouds in your ears. 
 “You might have… I know a lot of people do, but I don’t know much about you Jeongguk.”  
 And maybe it’s coincidental. The way the kiss hurts. Feels slightly painful. Bruising and desperate. Or maybe it’s intentional. Either way, the tension between you and him comes to a head. The gasp that leaves your lips is loud and sharp, you don’t even kiss back at first because you’re so dumbstruck. Lovestruck. It’s only been a few months... Embarrassing.
  Embarrassing until it’s not. Embarrassing until you get yourself together enough and start to kiss back, hands sinking into his long hair, gripping a little too hard so you have something to tether you to this earth. Embarrassing until it’s wet and sloppy but slow and dreamy all at once. Until you feel his teeth dig into your bottom lip, his tongue following to soothe the little ache that he caused, maybe by accident, maybe on purpose because you told him you liked pain. It’s embarrassing until you can’t think about how embarrassing it is. 
 Until you can’t think straight at all because the only thing going on is your mind is: this is how it feels to kiss a fucking star. Not the rich kind of star that’s dressed in designer brands and weighed down by the heaviness of the world along with too many rings and watches and chains. Not the idol kind of star either, the kind that is so carefully crafted and manufactured that it’s kind of hard to see it as a star at all when it seems more like a doll. 
 Kissing Jeongguk is like kissing one of the stars in the sky, when they are in their rawest, purest form. The kind of star that people make wishes on when they are twinkling, when they are falling; dying. You’re dizzy and your eyes are squeezed shut so tight that little white dots are coming and going in the darkness and you think that maybe those are stars bursting right before your eyes. You hold onto the star in your hands a little tighter, kiss him just a little harder. 
 He winces from the force of your kiss and pulls away. Embarrassing. 
 When he looks at you his eyes are dark, and his chest is already heaving. 
 He licks his lips and his eyes go down to your lips, then back up almost as if asking for permission to continue. You give him the slightest nod, and that’s it. That’s all he needs.
 The noraebang seating is uncomfortable. Booth-like vinyl over barely padded benches, but you go easy as Jeongguk urges you to lay down, resting against the arm rest. His kisses are insistent and hot as he crawls over you, and settles between your open legs. 
 He’s such a good kisser. The type to cradle your face in his palms, the type to sneak his tongue inside after teasing the seam of your lips. The type to bite gently, make you whine into his mouth, and he just eats up every little noise you make and breath that you take. It feels good, even the sharp sting of his bites, even the way the armrest presses into your back when he puts his weight on you. The hand that pulls at your hair to expose your neck to him, feels good too. 
 He bites and sucks, little multicolored flowers blooming on your skin. He’s suffocating in the best way. The silence swimming around you is suffocating as well, just not in a good way. The lack of words make you feel antsy, the distant music of the neighboring booths sound muted and subdued, giving the illusion that you and Jeongguk are the only two in the world, in your own little bubble. It’s overwhelming. 
 “You’re a good kisser,” you gasp, just to break the quiet.
 You feel him smile into your neck, before he braces himself over you, looking at you smugly, yet charmingly. “You too.” he says softly. The way he rolls his hips into you, however, isn't soft at all. 
 He brings a hand down, and bunches up the material of your skirt so the only thing between you both are his layers, and your panties. You can feel him better now, can feel just how hard he is, how thick and long his cock is, rutting over your cunt. 
 You spread your legs as far as you can so that you are more open for him, his cock slipping just barely between your pussy lips over your panties, rubbing over your clit every time he grinds into you. He keeps his thrusts consistent and rough, his breath stuttering out labored and hot.
 You’re trying to keep quiet, but you can’t help the soft whines that slip past your lips. “Feels good, Koo,” you praise. 
 Your hands are gripping at his biceps, feeling the way that they flex and tremble from holding himself over you. He drops to his forearms and groans deep, burying his face in your neck. You can feel his hips start to move faster, more desperate. His breaths are puffing hot on your neck, going up in pitch at the end. He’s almost whining for you and your hips start to roll to meet his, your pussy needy and wet, craving the friction and drippy at the sound of his pleasure. His lips are alternating between biting and giving soft wet kisses.
 “Fuck, I’m not gonna last... I’m gonna cum-”Jeongguk grits out against your neck before lifting his body some to look down at your bodies where his clothed cock is grinding frantically against your panty covered pussy. 
 You can hear the desperation in his voice along with a hint of shame. 
 “That’s okay,” at the sound of your voice Jeongguk looks at you, one arm bending so he’s got his palm braced on one side of your head and his forearm on the other and you sigh out a soft pleasured sound. He looks so breathtaking. His starshine eyes are dark and wet, his fair skin is flushed and hot. There’s a bit of sweat at his hairline from how hard he’s working for his release. You wipe away a drop on his temple as you push his long hair out of his face. “You did good, you made me feel so good. Show me how good I make you feel. Please.” 
 You watch as pleasure overtakes him, the hard thrust of his hips becoming even more erratic and hectic. He’s nodding along with your praise like that’s what he needed to let go, whines and groans tumbling from his lips. He’s looking at you when his eyes start to flutter and his brows turn up in pleasure. His mouth falls open and he’s coming. Hot shots of white fill his pants and you can feel the warmth of it and the throb of his cock through the thin layers of clothes separating you.
 His head is hanging and his body is trembling with the after rush of his orgasm when he chuckles lightly. “That doesn’t normally happen. I swear.”
 You’re kind of just laying there, on the less than comfortable noraebang booth bench, with him still in between your legs. You laugh with him softly. “Been a while?” you ask.
 He shakes his head, still catching his breath and coming down, mind still a bit hazy. “No, no. You just- you’re so… different. You make me feel weird.”
 The laughter that had been floating between you slowly starts to quiet as you both seem to realize what he said at the same time. He looks at you, eyes simmering with panic, and yours look back searching and confused.
 It’s quick, the way he changes the subject, smothers you with his breath and distracts you with his soft kisses and even softer touches. Making your tongue too busy with his, to ask questions. Not that you would have asked. You play it off, threading your hands in his hair, kissing him deeply. The tiny little prickle of hurt you felt in your chest was completely forgotten as he kisses you back just as hard, like he wants to swallow you whole. 
 He brushes some hair out of your face and whispers against your lips, “I wanna make you cum.” The hand that isn’t playing with your hair is sliding down your body, before cupping over your pussy. Your panties are wet, sticking to you. You know he can feel it because he gasps, soft and small. “Fuck, please let me.” He rests his forehead on yours, and rubs at your clit over your panties. The gentle, teasing circles are the match that ignites the little flame of arousal that has been seething within your belly.
 You whisper, “What if someone comes in?”
 Your hips subtly rolling into his touch at their own accord, don’t do much to show him that you're actually worried.
 He breathes a laugh against you before placing a chaste kiss to your cheek, and then biting softly at the apple of it. “You know why people come here… so do the people who work here. No one’s gonna bother us.”
 He’s kissing your neck again, and his fingers are speeding up.
 “Is that why you brought me here?” you whisper, breath hitching on a whine.
 Jeongguk’s fingers stutter for a second before carrying on, and he looks at you with hazy lidded eyes. He has a sheepish smile on his face. “Not exactly. I wanted to hang out. But I may have been hoping for a little.” he says as he kisses you softly. “Been thinking about how you taste since that party.”
 You can’t help but moan. You’ve been thinking about it too. How it feels to be completely devastated by a star in the best, most blissful way. You manage to keep some shred of decency, though. You’re not at yours or his, and you’re not in your head this time. You’re in a very public space, even if everyone knows what goes on behind the locked doors. “N-no sex.” you bargain.
 He nods. “Can I use my mouth?” he nuzzles into your temple, and two of his fingers tap against your pussy. “Can I use it here?” he places the gentlest, teasing kisses between his words. “I’ll be quick.” he assures.
 You whine and squirm against him. “Confident?” you ask, trying to tap into your usual, quit wit. To little avail. It’s no use. You were ruined at the first taste of him, the first feel of his lips on yours. You can only imagine how they will feel in other, more secret places.
 He smiles, tongue in cheek before he shrugs lightly. “A little.”
 You roll your eyes, but when he plays with your clit again, your hips buck into his palm and he takes that as a yes and moves down your body. His hands come up to play with your boobs briefly, squeezing and rolling them in his hands. “Gonna fuck these one day, okay?” he tells you.
 Him saying that he’s gonna fuck your tits, should be vulgar. But to you it’s a promise that this is going to happen again, and it makes you high, floaty thinking about him wanting you, desiring you. Him already thinking about the next time he gets to have you when he hasn’t even finished with you this time. 
 Your brain is hazy and his touch is burning through your clothes but that’s nothing compared to the way his breath feels on your clothed cunt when he finally finds his place between your legs. You’re wet, embarrassingly so and you know your panties are sticking to your core. Your ears are still cloudy, and you’re sure you’re probably imagining it, but when Jeongguk slips his fingers into the sides of your panties to peel them away, you think you can almost hear the wetness. He grabs them from the top and starts to pull them down and off your feet. Your hands come to your face to try and hide, your legs instinctually closing.
 He’s having none of that. His hands are placed on your knees as he slides them over your thighs, chills following the path of his fingertips. He places a gentle pressure, urging you to open them. He’s a little higher than your cunt, kind of resting on your lower belly when he pulls at your hands, making you look at him. 
 “Don’t hide from me,” he says quietly. One of his hands tangles with yours as he slowly lowers himself to your pussy. He kisses and licks over your smooth, pink lips. His hand that’s holding yours squeezing every now and then when he looks up at you with his dark, lust filled eyes.
 His free hand comes down to slip between your folds, and just teases at your opening, almost like he’s playing with the little droplets of slick that are dripping from your core. Your legs open a bit more, shame and shyness steadily creeping away as you yearn for him to make you feel good. You feel him smile and peck your pussy lips before he rests his head on your thigh. He looks at you, doe-eyes filled with mirth.
 “Want my fingers, too, pretty girl?” he muses.
 You close your eyes as you nod, an exhale stutters from your chest.
 “What do you say?” he taunts.
 Eyebrows furrowed, and lips pouted, you grumble out a soft, “Please…”
 He hums before he slowly sinks his middle finger inside. It feels good right away, his finger is much longer and thicker than your own, reaching that spot inside that you always struggle to reach. Your mouth parts and the softest sigh leaves your lips. His other arm wraps around your thigh, and fingers slide between your folds from the top to spread them so your clit is exposed and ready for his tongue. When he finally tastes you, he moans along with you, before he gets to work.
 He wasn’t lying when he said it wouldn’t take long. Jeongguk’s tongue is skilled. It works fast, flicking quickly over your clit, up and down. It’s constant and wet, and it's so filthy the way his tongue on your sweet spot makes your pussy just gush all over the finger he has inside of you. 
 He sucks gently when his tongue and jaw need a break, little pulses and slurping suctions stimulating you, before he goes right back to lapping at your sensitive little bud, occasionally dipping down to lick at your center, wrapped tight around his finger. 
 He pulls your hood back a little more, placing wet kisses to your clit, tongue licking just slightly before his lips wrap around it making you jolt from the direct sensation. 
 You’re braced on your arms, looking down at him, watching him make you come apart at the seams. When he adds his ring finger, your head and eyes roll back, and your legs spread even farther, making yourself as open as you can for him. 
 “Fuck, I’m already close,” you whine, high pitched and airy. You bring a hand down and brush some of his hair out of his face, and you see him smile a little, smug as he puffs out a soft laugh. His breath is hot on you, as his tongue and lips keep playing with your clit. His fingers speed up too, curling every time they are pushed in, dragging when they pull out. He knows exactly what he’s doing, exactly how to make you fall apart.
 “You gonna cum for me baby?” he purrs against your cunt.
 Your brows are pinched in pleasure and you nod as you watch him. “Yeah, don’t stop, please,” you whisper.
 His eyes close as he drowns in you, his face pressed up against you as he licks you from an angle that is so precise and so perfect that your legs start to shake. The hand you have in his hair tightens and you pull, keeping him close as you chant quiet, lewd praises.
 “Gonna cum, Koo- oh my god-” Your mouth falls open and your eyes squeeze shut. 
 Right when you’re on the crest of pleasure, Jeongguk replaces his tongue with his fingers so he can watch you as you cum. He sees the way you're about to protest at the loss of his mouth before your body tenses and your back arches off of the bench, his fingers toying with you enough to make the rush hit you before you can even complain. 
 “Fuck, look at you baby,” he murmurs in awe. 
 His eyes are trained on your pussy, the way it clenches and contracts around his fingers. He spreads you as wide as he can so he can have the best view of your pink cunt pulsing, and dripping. His fingers slow on your clit as you start to come down and the fingers inside of you almost pet at your g-spot, milking every last bit of pleasure he can from you. 
 Slow is still overwhelming though, when you’ve just cum. It’s not long before your hands are reaching between your legs and gripping at his wrist.
 “Too much,” you cry.
 He coos, as he removes his fingers. He gently pulls at your inner lips and opens up your puffy little cunt. “She’s still pulsing around nothing…” he says. He sounds dazed, lust drunk. “Did I make you cum that hard, baby?”
 You’re still trying to catch your breath as you look down your nose at him. He’s got that effortlessly confident, cocky look on his beautifully, flushed face and you just want to kiss it off. You kick him instead.
 “Awe, don’t be mad, I’m only teasing,” he giggles as he settles himself on top of you, resting on your chest. He squeezes your tit good-naturedly. 
 “Confidence is only sexy if it’s paired with humility, which you are sorely lacking, my friend.”
 “Your special friend,” he whispers, kissing your collarbone.
 You grab his face and angle it towards you and kiss him before you can think too much about it. Before you can think about how it might scare him. The way he tenses in your hold is heart-stopping. Not in a lovesick way, but in the worst gut-wrenching way. You can almost feel the inner battle that he has within himself before he seems to give in.
 The soft sigh he moans into your mouth is so sweet, that it’s toothache inducing. The way he lets himself melt into you and the way he becomes pliant in your hold almost feels better than his tongue. With his pliancy in mind, you gingerly sit up, mouths never parting, and he goes easily with you until you’re crowding his space and eventually straddling his lap. The kiss is still soft, saccharine sweet when his hands slip under your skirt. They knead at your cheeks, pulling and squeezing admiring how plush your body is. You’re about to start working your hips over him, but he groans and gets a hold of you before you start going.
 “You already made me cum in my pants once, you are not doing it again,” he whisper scolds, while playfully nipping at your bottom lip.
 “I thought it was sexy,” you whisper back. You brush your nose against his.
 You’ve got your hands working through his hair, scratching at the nape of his neck. He hums while he pushes into your touch, eyes closing.
 “You know what else is sexy?”
 You make a soft questioning noise.
 “When you walk out of here with no panties on,” his eyes are still closed as he smirks.
 You’re jostled quickly and back on the bench instead of his lap. He’s crowding your space and when you look him over, you see your light blue panties hanging from his finger. You blush.
 “Jeongguk, you better give those back right now,” you whisper.
 He quirks an eyebrow. Then he leans in and coos into your ear, “Don’t you think it would be more fun to think about what I’m gonna do with them? How I might be planning on wrapping them around my cock the next time I touch myself? How I might be planning to cum all over them?” 
 It’s audible when you swallow down the desire crawling up your throat. You raise to your feet and head for the door.
 “You should tie your sweater around your waist, your boner is distracting and indecent,” you say with a quick backward glance. 
 Jeongguk pockets your panties, and laughs before taking your advice and catching up with you. 
 “When I think of you, I think of the color pink.”
  It’s cold outside, but the apartment is warm. So is the bed. So is the body laying next him. Warm.
 Jeongguk doesn’t stay the night very often.
 He is tonight though. His head is on your chest and his fingertips are lazily running over your bare skin leaving little chills trailing behind. Your hand is in his hair. It’s getting long now, and it’s still soft, easy for you to run your fingers through, despite being bleached a week or so ago. You went with him to the appointment. 
 Jeongguk laughs a little. “That’s funny because I also think of the color pink when I think of you.”
 He doesn’t look at you when he says it, but he can tell you’re smiling, close to giggling when you respond, “Really? Why?”
 He hums and looks up at you. You look back with that look of adoration that you always have when gazing at him. His chest constricts, it’s hard to breathe when he’s with you sometimes. 
 “Because of how pretty, and pink your pu-”
 You push your hand in his face with a laugh and try to roll away from him. “God, shut up! You’re so crass.”
 You don’t get far before he’s got his hold on you. His big hands wrapping around your tiny bones. He manhandles you until you’re properly under him, hands pinned and bottom half weighed down by him straddling you. 
 “That’s not what you were saying a couple of hours ago, was it baby?” he taunts. “What was it you said? ‘Yeah, Koo… your cock feels so good, please cum inside me, fill me up.’ right?” he says, making his voice breathy and high pitched, mocking you. 
 He presses into your cheek, nips at your ear as he teases, basking in the way that your cheeks blush red, incandescent. Warm, just like the apartment, like the bed. Like the whole of your body underneath him. 
 You’re there often, under him. Sometimes on top of him, next to him, in front of him. He kisses you, chaste yet thorough, and you keen, hands fighting against his hold like you want to touch.
 Again, he relishes in your reaction. He relishes in everything about you, everything you do, all of the time. The way that you’re witty and sarcastic when you’re out and about. The way you constantly talk about things as if you’re painting a picture with your words, carefully choosing each syllable. 
 Versus the way you get when you’re just with him. Sometimes still witty, a visionary, but mostly shy, sweet, and like the most delicate flower in his destructive hands. He tries to be gentle with you, he really does. But he’s a creature of habit; and he has a habit of being rough, a habit of hurting and ruining pretty things. He hates that about himself. But it’s almost subconscious, he never realizes he’s doing it, ruining it, until it’s too late.
 But he’s been transparent with you. It’s not his fault that you always seek him out, and it’s not his fault that you’re the sun, always there in a sense, in his mind. It’s not his fault that he’s grown to crave your comfort, your presence. Even at night when you’re not physically with him and the sun has set but his bed still has lingering warmth on the side that’s not his; even then, you’re still there in the recesses of his mind, just like the sun is still in the sky even if it can’t be seen, even if the moon has taken its place for the night. Or a star, as you would say. It’s not his fault.
 His hands release yours, and one comes up to your cheek, thumb rubbing over the apple. Your hand comes down and holds at his inked wrist as your lashes flutter. His eyes scan the entirety of your face before a lopsided grin starts to form on his lips. He tilts his head a little. 
 “And why do you think of pink?” Jeongguk asks.
 He watches as you flush even darker, the smallest scowl falling over your features, a little wrinkle forming between your brows. He bites his lip to keep from laughing at you.
 “You think I’m gonna tell you now?” you spout.
 He doesn’t give in, knowing you just want to bicker. He knows you do that, pick fights, just because you want attention, just want him focused on you. You’d never admit to being the bratty type, but he knows you well. In that sense at least. Instead he hums, pecks your nose. “That’s okay. You don’t have to tell me, I just like that you’re thinking about me.”
 “Do you think about me too?”
 Sometimes you scare him. When you ask him questions like that. In that soft, sweet, hopeful tone. When you give him those tender looks and touch him with hands that are too gentle for someone like him, like you think he’s the one that might break between the two of you. 
 “Too much,” he murmurs honestly.
 You smile and you look like you’re going to say something, but Jeongguk’s quick to change the subject.
 “You should let me tattoo you.”
 “No way!” you say instantly, swatting at his chest. He shifts and rests most of his weight on you, buries his face into your skin. You smell like your body wash, along with a little bit of him. Vanilla and JK.
 “Why not? Do you doubt my craft?” he teases, mock offense lacing his tone.
 “Maybe if you actually went to your apprenticeship every once in a while, instead of skipping to go to those lame parties, I wouldn’t,” you tease back.
 He snorts. “Jokes on you, I skipped it tonight to hang out with your lame ass.”
 You smack him gently again. “Jeongguk!”
 You’re giggling freely, body shaking underneath him and he can’t help but grin at the sound. “Maybe if you let me work on you, I would be more motivated to practice.”
 You hum thoughtfully, eyes crinkled as you try to suppress your laughter. “Fine, but only if you let me tattoo you too.”
 He knows you think that will deter him, but still, he doesn’t even hesitate. “Deal, baby.”
 You laugh at him again, loud and overly bright for a few moments until you realize that he’s not laughing with you. The way your face settles into a confused pout finally breaks Jeongguk’s straight face and makes him chuckle. Your brows are pinched and your eyes are wide.
 “Y-you’re not serious…” your incredulous laugh putters out. “Are you?”
 “Of course I’m serious.”
 And he is. Jeongguk doesn’t know why he is, or why he wants it so badly now that he’s put the idea out there. It was a joke at first, just something to fill the air, to interrupt you before you could say something scary again. But he does. Maybe it’s masochistic. Maybe he just wants something that will remind him of you when whatever it is that's between you two inevitably ends. Because he knows even the brightest of flames burn out eventually. 
 Or perhaps it’s a sadistic desire. Perhaps he wants to be inked into your skin, somewhere secret, so that the next time someone sees you in the same way that he’s seeing you now, they will ask about it, and consequently remind you of him. You’ll still think about him, even when others are with you, trying to hold your attention. Even when you’re trying to forget him. 
 “Matching ones?” you whisper.
 He nods. “Yeah, friendship tattoos.”
 Jeongguk doesn’t miss the way your face falls for the briefest of moments, how your lips part and the softest, tiniest, dejected sigh leaves your lips, before he quickly kisses away the disappointment. It’s bitter on his tongue.
 “Special friendship tattoos,” he amends. Another light kiss. He wonders if it tastes like gasoline to you too. The shadow’s from the candle on your nightstand dance across your skin. Best to be careful with gasoline kisses next to an open flame. “We can get stars.”
 You’re quiet for a moment, mouth dropping down in a pensive frown. “It has to be small. And somewhere where no one can see it on me.”
 He smiles big, and his heart skips a devastating beat when he sees how you instinctively smile back. “Don’t worry, I plan on putting it somewhere very private,” he purrs.
 “You are not tattooing my pussy or my ass, Koo.”
 “Not there!” he laughs, “I meant like by your tit or something.” 
 Jeongguk starts to kiss down your body, he’s always kissing you when you’re together. He stops in the center of your chest on your sternum.
 “We could do it here,” a wet kiss just to the side of your heart. He can feel it, how it speeds up because of his mouth, his hands, him. He travels a little lower.
 At your ribs, just under the curve of your breast, he stops again. “Or here.” Another kiss where his tongue tastes you before his lips even touch. 
 He makes it to your belly button, just about to move to your hip before you speak up.
 “I liked it there, on my ribs,” you say, voice a little wispy, higher pitched than normal. He notes that your chest is rising and falling just a bit faster than before.
 “I’m not finished yet,” he says, looking up at you through his bangs and his lashes, trying to go for stern, but the humor in his voice gives him away.  
 Your bottom lip is pulled between your teeth as you try and silence your laughter. 
 Jeongguk places a kiss here, a kiss there all over your silken skin. Little kiss marks shine when the candlelight hits them just right. He bites every now and then too, unable to control himself when he gets to the softest part of your lower belly, and the inside of your thighs. He even kisses Jiji on your ankle. He’s gripping your foot and you wiggle your toes in his hold
 “Is Kiki your favorite?” He asks distractedly, lips still playing on your skin, he’s starting to make his way back up now.
 “Spirited Away,” you correct softly, on a giggle as Jeongguk hikes your legs up around his waist. You wrap your arms around his back, and he shivers when you run your nails over his shoulder blades, goosebumps making a short appearance. When he rolls his hips into your pussy, you gasp. He inhales it, breathing in your pleasure. It makes him throb, hard and hot against you. “I’m still wet inside from earlier,” you whisper.
 He groans into the kiss he brandishes your lips with. He ruts harder into you, bringing a hand down between your bodies, and gripping the base of his cock so that he can rub the tip against your clit. He feels how wet you are, with your slick as well as his cum from just a little bit ago. He tsks, scolds you playfully. “I know, I can feel it. So messy.” He’s smiling when he takes your bottom lip between his teeth.
 Your eyes are fluttering when you ask, “What’s your favorite?”
 Jeongguk’s distracted, of course he is. How could he not be when you're mewling underneath him, squirming from the tip of his cock swirling around your clit? He humors you. “Howl’s Moving Castle,” he says as he pushes the head in before hissing and pulling back out. He does it a few times, teasing himself with your cunt.
 When you laugh, it catches him off guard. Enough to make him pause and look up at you with a dumb smile on his face, just grinning because he somehow made you laugh, and the sound of it is nice.
 “That would be your favorite.”
 “What’s that supposed to mean?” He spits into his hand, slicks himself up, rubs a little on your pussy.
 “You’re just-” You gasp when his fingertips graze your clit. He gasps when you spread your legs wider for him, sweet and eager, just like always. “You’re just like him. Charming, confident…”
 “Go on,” he grins into your neck, sucking a little bruise. You tilt your head so he can reach better.
 “Slow down.”
 You giggle. “Stealing hearts and eating them.”
 He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder. He braces some of his weight on your thigh, tests your flexibility as he hovers over you, lips brushing yours lightly, teasing. He gives in when you crane your neck to reach him. “I haven’t eaten yours, have I?” He muses.
 Your hand comes up and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. “No, not yet.” 
 You pause and look at him with one of those soft, terrifying looks. He knows you don’t even realize how scary it is, when you look at him like that.
 “Maybe I’ll be the one to steal your heart, hmm?” your head tilts, and you smile at him faint and cute. It’s meant to be playful, but Jeongguk can already feel his heart clawing its way up his throat. “You who swallowed a falling star, o' heartless man, your heart shall soon be mine,” you quote, tease, with a giggle.
 Jeongguk goes rigid on top of you. His heart is beating fast in his chest, loud in his ears. He kisses you, hard. Bruising like the first time. Hopefully you take it as eagerness. 
 “Stop talking,” he whispers, begs against your lips. 
 When he slides into you, he can’t help but wonder if you remember that that was the curse the wicked witch placed on Howl to trap him. 
 There’s something about Jeongguk that makes people drawn to him. He’s charming, enrapturing,  in every sense of the word. Makes people feel special. His laugh is infectious, loud and often more entertaining than the original joke when he does that thing where he claps his hands, or falls to his knees if it’s funny enough. Being around someone like that is refreshing. He’s captivating and easy to be around, easy to love. He’s such a bright light no matter where he goes, a beacon to those in his vicinity.
  And he’s so, so kind. To everyone that speaks to him. Even to those that don't speak and just look, he offers a kind smile. When someone has his attention, they have it all, his big doe-eyes holding eye contact, nodding to let them know he’s listening and being attentive. He’s a good person. A little hard to understand, hard to get close to. So people say, so you’ve learned. But he’s good. Not much is known about stars, anyway. 
 You’re watching him right now, always watching. You’re on another stained sofa in a different house than the one you usually went to with your knees pulled to your chest, a cup of beer resting on your knee. He’s chatting with someone, looks like the guy is showing him his tattoos. Jeongguk smiles, looks enthused, points to one that he must like based on his reaction. Then he’s holding up his own forearm, pointing to a small piece of ink, and then of course, he’s pointing at you.
 Just before coming here, you and him had been at his tattoo shop. He drew the most beautiful, intricate little shooting star into your ribs. A little fireball attached to a long trail of stardust, smaller little twinkles falling off of it. It was simple clean line work, lines thin and dark. And then you drew two of the most basic five pointed stars on him, in a small blank space of his already existing sleeve. 
 You warned him, told him you couldn’t draw a straight line with a ruler, let alone a heavy, vibrating tattoo gun. But he assured you he wanted it, that he needed to get that spot filled anyway. 
 Though both stars are small, one is bigger than the other. 
 ‘This one is you,’ you had said, pointing to the larger star, ‘and this one is me,’ you continued, moving to point to the smaller one. 
 ‘Is it?’ Jeongguk had asked, a teasing smile gracing his mouth as he leaned into you. 
 ‘Yeah,’ you had breathed against his lips. 
 Your soft kisses turned to soft touches, touches that transformed into soft moans. Right there in the parlor.
 He’s talking louder now, getting excited. “Look how good her lines are! I didn’t even have to help her that much…” he goes on and on and you smile into your cup. 
 It was actually a really shitty tattoo. Lopsided, with the points of the stars all different lengths. But hearing him praise you, express how much he actually likes it? It makes your heart burn, glowing bright pink in your chest. You get up and sonder over to him.
 He smiles as he sees you, opens his arm up for you to tuck yourself into his side. His arm going over your shoulder, and yours going around his waist. You rest your empty hand on his tummy, can feel how it tenses as he laughs. 
 “Ah, my little artist herself!” he says.
 “That’s a stretch,” you deny, looking towards the guy across from you, “Namjoon right?”
 He nods. “Yeah the one who has spent the last 5 years in school studying medicine and plants,” his voice holds a twinge of regret, a longing for life that isn’t run by tests and grading scales.
 You laugh lightly. Ah, the botany guy. “Graduate program?” you ask.
 He nods again.
 You tap your fingers on Jeongguk’s stomach, trying to think of something else to say. “Oh! Do you know Yoongi? He’s not in the same plant… program or whatever but he’s doing a graduate program too.”
 Namjoon smiles. “I don’t know him aside from the parties he shows up at sometimes, but I’ve heard of him around campus. Where is he by the way? You usually have him and Tae with you when you show up here right?”
 Your brow furrows as you take another sip of your drink, readjusting yourself so your back is against Jeongguk’s chest. He rests his hands on your hips, and cheekily pushes against your ass. You ignore him. “I actually don’t know? We haven’t hung out in a while...” you hum contemplatively while you play with your bottom lip. You look up at Jeongguk. “Do you know? Jimin’s not here either.”
 He shrugs, expression bored. “Jimin said he has something to do tonight, maybe he’s finally sucking Tae’s dick. And you know Yoongi hates these parties almost as much as you.”
 You pout still, but Namjoon swiftly changes the subject.
 “Anywho, you’re a tattoo artist now?” he tilts his drink in the direction of Jeongguk’s arm, his smile playful and knowing. “Must be pretty special to be able to get behind the gun and work on this one. He’s a snob.”
 You’re about to deny it once again but Jeongguk interrupts you with a snort. “Obviously she’s special, we are special friends.”
 Namjoon’s eyebrows raise and you laugh a little. Your eyes sparkle when you look up at the blonde behind you. “Are you drunk?”
 He grumbles and wraps his arms around you tighter before mumbling into your neck. “No… not really, but I am horny,” he whispers.
 You tut at him, scolding with a whisper, “I literally just jerked you off earlier.”
 You’re swiftly ignored as he turns his attention back to Namjoon, “If you’ll excuse us, we have to put aquaphor on our tattoos.”
 You send Namjoon an apologetic smile, but he just laughs, turning to head in the direction of the kitchen. 
 Jeongguk’s hand is tight when it grips yours, a vice like hold as he drags you through the house. It’s at a frat this time, so the upstairs is lined with bedrooms. People are littered through the hall, and in the open bathroom you can see a girl cutting a line on the porcelain sink. The guy behind her holds her hair for her. A modern romance, like a scene from a movie. There are the stereotypical socks on door knobs, and thankfully the music is way too loud and the bass is boosting so you can't hear what’s going on behind the doors. You almost run into Jeongguk’s back when he comes to a stop in front of a locked door void of any sock.
 “Jeongguk,” you hiss, “we can’t just have sex in a random person’s room.”
 He’s somehow procured a key and gets the door open. “Yes we can, but this isn’t someone random’s room, it’s Jimin’s. He lets me use it sometimes.”
 He doesn’t notice the slip of the tongue, once again, but it leaves an icky taste in your mouth. Thick and unpleasant on your tongue. But you know in due time the taste will change, into one of starlight, heady and intoxicating, and so wholly Jeongguk. 
 “Jimin goes to uni? I never see him on campus,” you wonder aloud tentatively taking a step through the threshold. It looks like a typical college boys room. A desk with a computer and school work scattered all over. A floor littered with shoes and clothes, along with a nightstand that has the lamp, the lotion bottle, and the kleenex box that sit on top of it. You laugh to yourself. Weird. 
 “Mmm, he’s enrolled and goes just enough to not get kicked out so he can keep getting his student loans and living here,” he replies as he locks the door. 
 Immediately he’s backing you into the bed, urging you to lay down. He stays close, lips on yours, hands hastily pushing your shirt up and over your head so your top half is bare under him. He pauses while straddling you, looks at you with hooded eyes, taking in the way your long hair fans out against the grey sheets of Jimin’s bed. With eyes raking over your skin, his tongue peeks out to lick at his lips subconsciously as he fondles your tits.
 “You’re so sexy, your body is so nice,” He pinches your nipples, making them pebble between his finger tips, “love the way you respond to me,” he purrs.
 You make a soft embarrassed sound as you blush and bring your hands to your face to hide.
 Like every time you try to hide from him, he pulls your hands away and gives you a sly yet sweet smile. He looks down at you, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Why do you still get so shy with me? Hmm?” With your hands in his, he brings them to his clothed torso, urging you to touch him. 
 His mouth parts when you graze his nipples, and he breathes out a tiny, pleased laugh. “I get the same way for you, can’t you feel it?” He trails your hands down even farther, until they are rubbing against the bulge in his jeans. He sighs, head hanging back, letting you pleasure him for just a moment.
 You go to undo his belt but he stops you. “Not yet,” he says as he swats your hand away. He kneels down, kisses and sucks at your collarbones, as he grinds softly into your lower belly, quiet little sighs sneaking out between his kisses. 
 He’s slowly moving down your body until he gets to the new tattoo, fresh and vibrant against your skin, the edges still a little red. He gently runs a finger over it, before kissing next to it, all around it. “I love it, do you love it?” he murmurs, doe-eyes jumping between the ink and your face.
 You run a hair through his blonde locks, brushing them out of his face. “Yeah, you did such a good job, thank you.”
 He hums and you feel him smile into your ribs before making his way a little lower. You stop him by pulling at the hair you have a grip on.
 “Wait, I wanna- you always take care of me…” you look at his cock. “Let me?” you ask.
 He sits back up and regards you like he’s debating on letting you have your way with him before he huffs and shuffles off the bed. He stands at the edge and rids himself of his shoes and socks and you watch as you follow his example. 
 Next he gets rid of his shirt. You take him in, admiring the lithe, trim cut of his small waist, how his jeans and belt rest on his hip bones, the lightest little fuzz of hair that travels down his lower belly. The very obvious hard on pushing against the zip. You crawl over and sit on the edge of the bed in front of him. He cradles your face and your eyes flutter shut at the touch.
 “You wanna take care of me, my baby? Wanna make me feel good?” 
 You nod as you take his arm into your hold, glancing at him through your lashes before pressing a sweet kiss next to the tattoo you gave him. He coos.
 “C’mere,” he says, applying light pressure with the hand on your face.
 Up close you can see the flush that has taken over his skin. He has little droplets of sweat forming at his hairline. It’s always so hot at these parties. Maybe it’s because you’re always with him when you attend. He’s always burning so bright, fiery hot. 
 The hand on your face pinches your cheek sweetly, and now, your cheeks are warm too. He laughs a little before he kisses you. “I know just how you can make me feel good, pretty,” he says against your lips, biting quick and sharp.
 He threads a hand in your hair at the back of your head and guides your mouth to his neck. “You can kiss me here,” he sighs, extending it so you have more room. “And here,” down to his collarbones.
 You kiss and suckle softly at the bone that protrudes, and pull the thin skin between your teeth for just a second. You moan when Jeongguk hisses and the hold in your hair tightens. Pulling away, you look up at him. He looks down his nose at you, bites his lip before he smirks a little.
 “You wanna mark me, don’t you? Was the tattoo not enough?” he answers the unspoken question swimming in your eyes, while simultaneously teasing. He’s acting cocky, but his voice is airy and has a bit more vibrato than normal, giving away how aroused he is. 
 You nod eagerly. Of course you want to mark him, of course the tattoo wasn’t enough. Maybe you’re greedy, or maybe you’re just in love. But you don’t think it will ever be enough; a part of you will always yearn for more. He takes his time searching your face before he nods a single, short time. 
 Jeongguk doesn't usually let you mark him, and if he does, he’s usually particular about where. This fuels you, and you sink your teeth into his faintly sun kissed skin, rolling it between your teeth harshly, sucking until you’re sure that his skin has turned the color of the prettiest violet. 
 When you lick at your work to help ease the ache, a moan gets caught in his throat. You rub your thighs together. His noises always get to you, always make your pussy weep inside of your panties. With his chest rising and falling rapidly, he pulls you off and pushes you back onto the bed, a little forcefully, but you don’t mind. He’s always been a little rough with you. Stars are known to be destructive from time to time. 
 He crowds your space, taking a spot in between your open legs. Being sat on the bed, his abdomen is eye level, and he pulls you to his tummy when he twines both his hands in your hair again. You lick the center line off his abs before you kiss, wet and open mouthed.
 “Yeah, kiss me there,” he moans. 
 You peek up quickly, and see that his head is tilted back again, blissfully letting your mouth work over his skin. His hands in your hair massage at your scalp encouragingly. Gentle and subconscious with his movements. His abs tense and jump when you nibble at one of the bumps of muscle, and he pushes into you, eager, maybe a little desperate. Although he would never admit that. 
 He holds you there, guiding you where he wants you till he’s pleased and backs away from the bed enough for you to have space on the floor when you drop to your knees.
 Your pussy pulses, gets a fluttery heart beat of its own, as you watch Jeongguk undo his belt. Anticipation makes you sink a hand between your thighs, makes you press and put a little pressure on your cunt to give you just a bit of relief. 
 His hands are big and strong, and the glint of the belt buckle matches the glint of the rings that decorate his fingers. The glint of the zipper as he pulls it down. He rubs himself over his boxers, shimmying his jeans down just little as he does it.
 “Do you wanna kiss me here too?” He’s smiling a tiny smile, talking quietly as his fingertips play with the tip of his cock. He sounds a little breathless too. 
 “Please,” you all but whimper, mouth watering.
 He hums, while he drags his briefs down his length until it springs out and bounces back to his tummy. He sighs when he starts to stroke himself with one hand, the other settling on your face, petting a little before he taps an open palm on it.
 You try to hold in the moan, but when his hand connects with your skin again, just a little harder than before, you can’t. It makes Jeongguk’s hand on his cock speed up. His mouth parts in awe. Gripping your jaw, he pushes it side to side, and you just let him. You let him play with you like a little doll. Another teasing smack lands on your face.
 He sighs, lust filled and dreamy. “God, you’d let me do whatever I want to you, wouldn’t you?” His thumb is running over the slightly reddened skin of your cheek. You nod in his hold. 
 You would. It’s scary to think about, the extent you feel like you’d go to, to have him, what you’d let him do, let him get away with.
 He brings his cock to your lips, but pulls it back when you try to suckle it. You pout, and then he taps the tip of it against your lips, groaning when he says, “Yeah, I know you would, you’re so good to me, so perfect,” he taps the length of his cock on your cheek a few times, he marvels at the little string of precum that connects his tip to the apple of your cheek. 
 His cock feels thick and hot and a pleasant kind of heavy on your cheek, much like how it feels on your tongue. When he finally lets you taste him, you start by curling your tongue around the crown, licking up some of the precum that has dribbled from his slit. You love it when he leaks for you. It shows you what you do to him, how bad he wants you. He confirms it when he sighs small affirmations.
 “That’s it, such a good girl for me.”
  You look at him, smiling a little at the praise, tongue teasing his slit, and his face makes your pussy throb. His mouth is parted and his eyes are hooded, like he wants to close them, bask in the pleasure, but keeps them open because the desire to watch you with his cock in your mouth outweighs it. He pushes his hips forward.
 “Suck it, baby,” he whispers, soft and salacious as he guides the tip past your lips, little by little until it touches the back of your throat.
 You’re confident about a few things, but your head game is close, if not at the top of your list. Little to no gag reflex to hold you back, mouth wet and sloppy as you drool all over his length. Tongue skilled as it moves up and down the sensitive vein running on the underside, while your throat contracts around his tip. 
 His hips stutter like he’s gonna pull out before he pushes in as far as he can, hands forming a makeshift ponytail with your hair as he holds you down, buries your nose in the coarse patch of groomed hair at the base of his cock. He moans, whines, high pitched and loud. He pulls out of your throat with a gasp.
 “Fuck, your mouth,” he drools, praises. 
 He gives you a second to catch your breath, admires the way your eyes are glassy with tears, mascara smudging the slightest bit, surely to be running by the time he’s done with you. You love it when he fucks you hard enough to make you cry, hard enough to make your makeup run. It shows how well he did it, how badly he made you fall apart. He’s got a few pictures on his phone of you looking ruined and fucked out. He says you look so pretty like that, with teary eyes, a messy face, and hair knotted from being fucked into the mattress. 
 Then he’s fucking your mouth. Hand coming down to your neck so he can feel the way his cock fills it up every time his hips snap forward. His body curls over yours some as he bends a little to reach your neck, and you can feel the heat from his body ignite the air around you as he slides deeper, inch by inch . 
 Every time he pulls out you take a quick breath through your nose, before he’s pushing in again, your throat like a spit-slick cocksleeve designed specifically for him. The perfect amount of wet and the tightest type of grip. His breathing is audible and ragged above you, harsh huffs, and occasional moans color the air when you swallow around him. His cock is so hard and hot in your mouth, throbbing and pulsing on your tongue. 
 Your hands are on his thighs and you can feel them tense, almost tremble as he pulls your head down onto him over and over again. He’s less considerate now, stingy with the breaths he allows you to take while he chases that high.  He’s groaning loud and unabashed, and you’re choking, bubbles of spit forming at the corners of your mouth and around the base of his cock. He holds you down one more time, shaking your head by the ponytail so that the tip of his cock rubs against the back of your throat then he’s hastily pulling you off.
 You rest your forehead on his lower belly, trying to catch your breath. You can feel him too, getting a hold of himself, due to the expanding of his stomach as he takes deep breaths. He still has his hands on you, touching just like always, running his fingers through your hair. Until he’s pulling you up by it.
 He’s quick to get his lips on you, and his tongue is quick to slide into your mouth. When he tastes himself on you, he sighs, smiles into the kiss. With hands cupping your face, you smile back, basking in the attention and sweet affection. You reach your hand down and grab his cock and his hips jerk. He pulls away at first before subtly fucking into your hand and moaning. You drink it down like the sweetest champagne, his sounds intoxicating in their own right. 
 “Fuck,” he whispers as he rests his forehead against yours, “wanted to cum in that mouth so bad… wanna cum in your hand right now,” he pushes a long slow thrust into your palm, his foreskin sliding with his movements. He sounds like it’s so difficult to hold back, to keep from cumming right there in the palm of your hand.  “You’ve got me so hot baby, wanna cum inside you…” He places the softest, pleading kiss to your lips. 
 It almost sounds like a question, his voice light and airy, lilting up at the end. Soft and gentle as he brushes his nose against yours, a gesture that is as painful as it is sweet, a touch too tender for what you both are. But it makes you keen in his hold, body pressing to his, as close as you can get. 
 Your hands are running over him, and his running over you, just taking up each other’s space, breathing each other’s breaths. His hands slide to your hips and spin you around so you’re facing the bed, a little rough, impatient, as they yank your pants and panties down. They knead at your ass, when you lower to your forearms and arch your back, presenting yourself to him. 
 Jeongguk drops to his knees behind you, spreads your cheeks so he can see your cunt, pretty and pink and glistening. He rubs his two first fingers in between your plush lips, and your legs spread wider. You push back into his touch.
 “Just fuck me, please, I can’t wait,” you breathe.
 He hums, plays with your pussy a little more before you feel him spit on it. Then he buries his face into you, tongue coming out and licking from your clit, to your core, all the way to your hole between your spread cheeks. He swirls his tongue around it and you peep, the feeling oddly pleasant, but unexpected. Jeongguk huffs a little laugh  while he pulls away. He sheds his pants, and you follow suit, before settling atop the bed, once more on all fours.
 His big hands fall on your ass, jiggling it a little. He groans at the way the fatty part ripples before settling back into place. Gripping his cock with one hand and pulling a cheek to the side with the other, he rubs the tip between your silky lips. The sloppy, wet noises fill the room, loud and clear. The sound of the distant chatter and subdued party music outside the door is distant, barely there, all your focus on Jeongguk. He hisses as he watches his cock sink inside of you.
 “So wet…” he rasps out as he fucks into you with shallow thrusts. He can see your arousal shiny and sticky on his cock, no lube needed.
 You nod as your head dips, hanging between your forearms. He bottoms out and you let out a high pitched whine. “Yeah, want you so bad, Koo…”
 He stays buried to the hilt for a moment, hands running over your ass, your back, squeezing at the smallest part of your waist. His touch feels so good, electric on your skin. But you’ve felt his cock before, many times, and you’re no stranger to how good that feels. It makes you lean forward, makes you drag your cunt up his length, before you push yourself back onto it. 
 Jeongguk gasps, hands squeezing hard at the motion. “Fuck… keep doing that.”
 You whimper as your work your pussy over him, throwing your hips back, fast and consistent. Getting high off the sounds Jeongguk is making behind you. The soft curses, the loud groans when you start to circle your hips slightly. The way he just lets you make him feel good. 
 You collapse onto the bed, arms giving out due to the pleasure coursing through your body, and you turn your face to the side, hands gripping the sheets beneath you. His palm settles on the small of your back, halting your movements so that he can snap his hips forward, punching pleased gasps from you. You turn your face into the sheets, trying to quiet yourself. 
 He doesn’t like that apparently. If the hand gripping your hair and yanking is enough to go by.
 His body is over yours, chest to your back as he fucks into you with short, hard thrusts. “Wanna hear you pretty girl, want everyone to hear you,” he whispers in your ear.
 You squirm in his hold, slowly getting overwhelmed by the way his body is making you feel, by the way you slowly climb higher and higher until you feel like you could touch the stars. “Feels… so good…” 
 “Yeah, I fuck you the best don’t I?” he purrs, “Better than anyone before me? Better than anyone will after me too, right? Always gonna want this cock, aren’t you?”
 You whine because you know it’s true. You know no matter what you do or what happens between you and Jeongguk, he’s always going to live in your head, always going to have a place in your heart, your body is always going to remember him and long for him. Not even just in a sexual sense either. You think he knows this all too well.
 He pulls out of you with a ragged breath before situating himself on his side behind you. He urges you to push yourself against him, back to his front, spooning. He grips the thigh of your top leg, pulls it up to your chest.
 “Keep them open,” he instructs.
 You do as he says, looking down your body where you see him bring the tip of his cock to your center again. He’s watching you though, braced on his elbow, while his free hand guides himself into you. The way your eyes roll back before squeezing shut with knitted brows makes Jeongguk sigh, the way your mouth drops open when he pushes in the last few inches makes him moan.
 He’s going slow. Long, punctuated plunges into your cunt. He’s got his face buried in the place where your neck meets your shoulders. Breathing out lewd moans, his grip on your hip tightens as he bites and kisses at your throat, breath scalding as he pants into your skin.
 “Love your pussy, fuck…” he brings skilled fingers to your clit and starts to massage with tight constant circles. You buckle in his hold, glance down at his hand again, watching as he touches you just the way you like, the way he knows you like. The way he knows will get you shaking in no time.
 “Please let me cum,” you beg.
 He hasn’t purposefully been edging you, but you’re worked up. Usually he fingers you, goes down on you, before you even get his cock inside of you. But due to the change in routine today and the lack of stimulation, the pressure in your core has been building quick, almost putting you at your breaking point already. 
 He’s well aware, voice teasing yet aroused when he coos, “You wanna cum baby? Yeah, you do?” 
 You twist in his hold some so that you can look at him, show him the tears in your eyes, hoping that they convey how badly you want to do just that. 
 His eyes are shiny too, pleasure so raw and apparent in them. He kisses you, licks into your mouth as he keeps that slow pace to his hips. The one that’s so deep, the one that brushes your sweet spot inside every time he glides against your sensitive walls. 
 “Want you to cum too,” he says it with a sigh, like he’s so close, just needs you to finish him off, “you’ve got me so… think I could cum just from being inside you while you cream on my cock, just from feeling that messy little cunt cum around me,” he’s moaning as he speaks, his hips losing rhythm, speeding up some as he gets closer.
 You nod, the hand you're leaning on holding tight at the sheets, the other keeping your legs spread. “Yeah, want you to cum inside me, cum with me…” Your eyes are closed, and your voice is kind of delirious as you feel it all come to a head. Your pussy is already tightening around him.
 He hisses. “There you go, that’s it baby… can feel how close you are,” his hips have almost stopped, just the smallest, minute little thrusts still going. He brings the fingers on your clit down to your leaking cunt just for a second getting them nice and wet before circling your bud again, faster, a little harder than before. Focusing on your pleasure, on making you finish. You keen as the leg you're holding up starts to shake.
 “Gonna cum,” you warn, the hand that was gripping the sheets coming up to your tit to play with your nipple.
 Jeongguk curses on a moan, “Yeah, fuck… me too.”
 He feels it, the way your body goes tense before you let go. How you tremble against him as your orgasm rushes through you, moans and whimpers falling from your lips. Your pussy clenching around his cock is what sends him over the edge. 
 “Fuck, I’m cumming-” he gasps out quickly, before biting down on your shoulder, grunts of pleasure muffled as he fucks into you as deep as he can, repeatedly, with those small thrusts. You feel his cock throb inside of you, cum filling you up. 
 You smile, serene and spent when he goes limp behind you. His arm comes around your waist, pulls you closer. He keeps his cock tucked inside. You run your fingertips over his arm and feel the slight scabbing of the stars on his skin.
 He shivers at the touch. Sitting up some, he curls over you. Your eyes are still closed, content, chest still rising and falling with your deep breaths. He leans in and kisses you, so sweet. Tastes like rose petals dipped in sugar. 
 He’s still on your lips when he mutters, “Now we have to figure out a way to get out of here without getting any cum on Jimin’s sheets.”
 You giggle, nod, and then kiss him again. You’ll clean up in a little. 
 It’s deliberate, the way you choose not to think about the reason why he wants to clean up, get going. How he doesn’t want to stay the night with you. 
 “I want you to get out a pen and a piece of paper and then clear off the rest of your belongings.”
 School is back in session, winter break ending far too soon. It’s your last semester, your degree is so close you can almost taste it, with only 3 classes left till you’re walking the stage in your cap and gown. One of the classes is a writing class that you saved till the end of your university run so you had something to look forward to. 
 It’s a Thursday afternoon and you’re sitting in the back of your Creative Writing lecture hall. Someone’s eating so it smells disgustingly of peanut butter and the seats are filled with college students who just rolled out of bed at 12pm, everyone slightly disheveled and the crowd lackluster as the professor paces the front of the room. She’s quickly become one your favorites however, the last few weeks in her class proving to be entertaining as well as educational. You paw your sweater sleeve up in your fist and hold it to your nose and lean forward attentively.
 “Now, I want you to think about someone you love. It can be a real person, fictional, completely imaginary. Dead or alive. Old or young. Doesn’t matter. You just have to love them.”
 Of course starry doe-eyes flash in your mind. A crooked grin that pulls down a little farther on the right side. The centered mole just under his bottom lip that you kiss softly, so often when he’s distracted. The scar on his cheek that you run your fingers over when he’s resting on you. You do love Jeongguk, you have for a while now.
 “Write that person’s name at the top. They are going to be the model of basis and foundation for one of the characters in the short story project that we have due mid-April. So you’ve got approximately 2 months to finish it.” 
 A chorus of groans sound around the hall. The boy in front of you rests his head on his arms, looking defeated.
 “Hey,” your professor laughs, “this is the last year for most of you and this is the only project you have this semester. And it was in the syllabus. Not sure why you all sound so despondently surprised. You didn’t really think you would get through the whole course without one did you?” she inquires, still pacing the front of the room with a quirked brow.
 You honestly don’t mind. It will be a good distraction when you’re left to entertain yourself. Jeongguk’s actually been more on top of his apprenticeship attendance lately. It’s a good thing of course, but you don’t see him as much as you used to. That’s not to say that you aren’t together an incessant amount, just a bit less than normal. You scribble a tiny ‘jk ♡’ at the top of your paper.
 “Now with your muse in mind, I’m going to ask you a series of questions so that we can get some finite details about your fictional character on paper for you to use and reference as you’re writing,” she pauses, clicks to another slide on the projector. “What is their favorite color?”
 After writing the question you pause. Surely it’s black right? That’s basically the only color he wears. Maybe blue? You had helped him color his hair navy just a few days ago, the stains on your pillow a blueberry colored reminder every night… Still, you go with your first instinct, scrawling ‘black’ on the lined paper.
 “Their birthday?”
 You’re quick to answer this one, he’s a Virgo, so his birthday is… A small frown starts to tug at the corners of your lips. What day in September did he say? Did he ever say? Did you guys ever even actually talk about birthdays? ‘Virgo’ gets written next to question 2.
 “Are they close to their parents? Closer to the mother or father? Are they estranged? If you know why, please elaborate.”
 You know you don’t know this one. Fairly certain Jeongguk hasn’t even mentioned them in passing.
 “What role, or character archetype are they playing in your story?” she clasps her hands in front of her. “Are they the hero? The love interest? The villain?”
 You answer that one hastily.
 A few more questions are asked, some that you can answer, some that you can’t. They gradually get deeper, more personal as your professor carries on with them.
 “Okay. Now I want you to think hard about this character, and about the muse you’ve crafted them after. Could you answer all of the questions I asked?” She moves a weighted gaze around the room. You feel like she’s looking directly at you when she speaks again. “Do you really love the person you chose for the basic character prototype? Again, they could have been real, imaginary or fictional, but do you really love them, or do you love the idea of them? The version of them that you have pieced together in those brains of yours.”
 Your heart stops for just a moment, you can almost feel how you pale, the color draining from your cheeks. She continues.
 “I only ask because I want you to grow to love the character you are creating. This isn’t Psychology, I’m not here to make you question the love, or emotions you do or don’t feel,” the class laughs at this. The class with the exception of you. “But I am here to make you better writers. And one skill that you can have as a writer, a creative, or fiction writer especially, is building a connection with your characters. You’re going to be working on their, the character you’re outlining, story for the next few months. And when I read your work I want to be able feel the connection you have with them.” 
 She waits for it to sink in before continuing. “So I ask again: Do you love the muse you’ve chosen, or do you love the idea of them? Because loving someone and loving the idea of them are two completely different things. To love an idea of someone or something is to love it in a very surface level and/or superficial way. Still with me?” she questions.
 You are, but you wish you weren’t. You think you’re going to be sick.
 “Good, so as I was saying. It’s superficial. To be blunt, you love them for what they could be not for what they really are. As writers, many of us are guilty of this.”
 The thing about being a hopeless romantic is that you think about life in could be’s.
 “To truly love someone or something is to know all the little details about them, their virtues and their flaws. The reason why they prefer winter to spring. How old they were when they got their heartbroken for the first time. When they figured out who they are as a person, or if they are still searching. I asked those questions at the beginning of class to get you thinking.” 
 Your hands are starting to tremble just a little. Words on your paper coming out sloppy. You do love Jeongguk.
 Your professor takes a deep breath, flips to another slide. “How can you expect to love the character when you don’t even truly love who they are modeled after?”
 The room is quiet for a second. Someone raises their hand.
 “Isn’t it possible for characters to change as you write them? Like I can’t change my person, but I can change my character, like write them the way I want so that I end up loving them.”
 Your professor laughs again, light and airy as if she expected someone to ask. “Ah, yes. Character development is a thing of course. Although this is something that happens naturally throughout the story. But to change your character, like how you described?” she shakes her head and tsks, “Is it really love if you have to change them?”
 The sound of your paper crumpling is blaring in the quiet room. You pull out a new sheet, writing your sister’s name at the top. Her favorite color is green, her birthday is July 8th, she’s closer to your dad because you and your mom have always had a bond she couldn’t recreate with her, she’s the hero in the story, not the love interest like Jeongguk was… The lecture continues, and you don’t even notice when the bell rings, too busy thinking about how you do love Jeongguk.
 Jeongguk’s playing the newest version of Final Fantasy on his PS, the one you got him for Valentine’s day just a few days ago. You remembered him passively saying that he hadn’t played since he was little, and how he said he missed racing the chocobo’s. 
 His eyes flicker between his tv and you walking around his room. You’ve been to his apartment many times, but still, you always move around and take everything in like it's your first time there; your fingers running over his manga collection in the corner, tidying up his desk, lighting the linen candle you brought from your place. 
 ‘A gentle smell’ you had told him with a sweet smile, ‘because you’re sensitive to certain scents.’
 He gets distracted, the pleated skirt you're wearing catching his eye even more than the improved graphics of the game. He doesn’t quite hear you when you speak up.
 “Huh?” he asks, dragging his gaze up your body only to be met with a knowing look of your own. He smiles sheepishly.
 You roll your eyes, before taking a seat in his computer chair, not too far from his bed where he’s sat. Flipping through one of his tattoo sketchbooks you ask again, “What’s your favorite color?”
 Jeongguk isn’t surprised when you decide to make conversation. Before you started wandering around his room, you were on the bed with him while he played but you were a little fidgety and fussy, like you had something on your mind. He suspected you got up to try and distract yourself from your thoughts.
 He hums and tells you that it’s black, maybe red. 
 You ask his birthday next. He tells you September 1st. 
 Adjusting himself against the headboard of his bed, he opens for you when you make your way to him, crawling across his duvet. You take it upon yourself to settle between his thighs, back against his chest. He wraps his arms around you and continues to play, his chin resting atop your head. He smiles to himself when he feels you start to trace the stars on his arm.
 “Are you close to your parents?” you question again.
 He makes a small pondering noise. “Not really.”
 “Why not?”
 “Uh- they worked a lot I guess and-” He pauses. You don’t sound like you’re prying, just soft curiosity lacing your tone, but he still hesitates. “Why are you asking?”
 You hum and lean up a little to peck at the line of his jaw. He purrs at the contact, content. “Just wondering,” you state, pressing back into his chest.
 It’s quiet for a bit, you annoyingly plucking at the little bit of arm hair he has, making him laugh and playfully scold you, nuzzling into you and nipping at your cheek in retaliation. You giggle and he gets that sharp feeling in his chest, just like he always does.
 He thinks that’s the end of your questioning but too soon, you speak up again. “Do you prefer Winter or Spring?”
 “Winter, but my favorite season is Fall,” he says glancing down at you quickly before redirecting his attention to his game again. “You’re being weird, are we playing 20 questions or something? No, I’m not a virgin. What color panties are you wearing?” he asks, trying to make a joke.
 He chuckles when you lift your skirt to check before flipping it down again. “Pink,” you reply.
 You’re about to talk again but he interrupts you, “Wait let me see, I didn’t get a good look.”
 He hears you huff and can imagine you rolling your eyes as you do what he asks. You put it down again after a few seconds.
 “Just a little longer,” he tries.
 “Ugh, can you stop,” you say, a giggle leaking into the words, “I’m trying to talk to you!”
 He groans over dramatically like he’s exhausted, but he gives in. He always does with you. 
 “How old were you when you lost it? Your virginity?”
 The fond feeling in his chest starts to dwindle, and Jeongguk can feel the first little pricks of irritation poke at him as he answers your question shorter than before. “17 or 18.”
 You make a small surprised noise, looking up at him shocked. “Really that old?”
 He doesn’t glance back, stays focused on his game, hoping that you get the hint that he doesn’t want to ‘talk’ like this. “Yeah, I was a late bloomer and also an idiot.”
 You smile at him before going back to tracing his tattoos. “I doubt you were an idiot. That was just part of your story, a little chapter in your life.”
 He tenses at your words but shortly after, a lull falls into the conversation. But as soon as Jeongguk relaxes, a small frown takes over his face when you ask if the girl had been his girlfriend. And again, you don’t sound overbearing or anything, but he knows you can tell he’s not interested or invested in your questions. The atmosphere has shifted from pleasant and content to stiff and vexatious.
 “Yup,” he says, voice taking a stern edge despite his efforts to mask it. 
 He feels you tense against his chest, your fingers halting on his arm. “Are you mad at me?” you ask hesitantly.
 Immediately he feels bad, and sighs. “No, I’m not,” he says quietly, trying to be gentle. 
 But it seems you just don’t get it, because not even a few minutes later you’re asking, “How long were you together?”
 And he does his best to not snap at you, but he can’t stop himself when he goes rigid behind you and his words come out harsh and scathing. “Why does it matter and why the fuck are you interrogating me all of a sudden?”
 You turn around between his legs and gape at him with a shocked expression. “I’m not interrogating you? I’m literally just making conversation? Trying to get to know you better?” 
 “And why’s that?” he says, his tone flippant and annoyed.
 You pout and furrow your brows. “Am I not allowed to get to know you?”
 His jaw ticks and he casts an annoyed gaze around his room, looking anywhere but at you, as if not acknowledging the confused and hurt arch of your brow will make it go away. “You haven’t tried to in the last what? Five months?”
 “Six,” you correct him quietly.
 You sound unsure, like you don’t know why he’s lashing out like he is. And to be fair, it’s out of character for him, at least with you. He’s really not this cold towards you very often, almost ever. 
 Usually things with you both are great, easy. Fitting together in each other's lives almost perfectly. So seamlessly they are almost completely intertwined at this point. You meeting him for his breaks at his lessening shifts at the coffee shop, him meeting you after classes when he doesn’t have work, going to each other’s places after he gets off from his apprenticeship. The parties every now and again. The tattoos. 
 But he supposes it’s easy to put two blank canvases together when there are no details known about either of them. That’s what he was hoping for at least.
 “So am I just not allowed to?” you repeat when he stays silent.
 With an irked groan he tosses his controller to the side and rubs his hands over his face, rakes them through his navy hair. “I just don’t get why you are asking in the first place.”
 You regard him quietly for a moment, taking in his bored stare. He knows the disinterest in his tone is agonizingly apparent, and he knows it hurts you, just like the detached dismissal that he has ready on the tip of his tongue will. He expects you to keep pushing, to bicker with him just so he doesn’t give you the silent treatment. 
 He doesn’t expect you to start crawling off his bed. 
 He sighs and reaches out for you, getting a grip on your arm before you can get away completely. “C’mon, what are you doing? Are you mad at me now?”
 “I’m not mad, I just don’t see the point in staying here if you aren’t going to talk to me.” You’re trying to sound impassive, but he can hear the hurt in your voice.
 “But I am talking to you. I talk to you all the time, what do you mean?” He hates that he almost sounds like he’s whining, but he just doesn’t understand and he’s frustrated that you are prying and making things deeper than they need to be, than they should be.
 “Not about things that matter,” you reply curtly.
 “But the things you’re asking about literally do not matter, ___,” he states, just as short.
 You hang your head back and he can see your lashes fluttering rapidly. He knows you’re trying to not cry. Blinking to rid your eyes of unshed tears. You do that sometimes, cry when you get frustrated. As articulate as you are, sometimes things are hard to get out. You sound defeated and disheartened, but your words also have a hurt edge to them when you say, “They matter to me, anything that has to do with you matters to me.”
 He knew you were close to tears, but when you look at him with glossy eyes, he softens almost instantly.
 “Baby,” he coos, sighing again as he tugs you back to between his legs, back to his chest like when the conversation first started. He wraps his arms around you and kind of sways a little as he pecks your hair. “I just don’t think it’s important. Like the past is the past, and that’s it, you know?”
 He knows you’re pouting, and your voice is short and whiny when you insist, “I just want to know.”
 He hangs his head back and knocks it lightly against his headboard, trying to be patient with you. “It wasn’t like a bad relationship or anything like that but I just-”
 “Does it still bother you?”
 “No, but it’s still something I’d rather not think or talk about,” he’s talking to you slowly, like a child. 
 You’re quiet for some time, but Jeongguk just waits, knows you have more questions.
 It’s tentative and rushed when you speak again. “Was she your only girlfriend? If it wasn’t a bad relationship, why did you break up with her?”
  He takes a deep breath, actively trying to not be short with you. “She was the only serious one, and she broke up with me. Nothing really happened.” He shrugs, tone getting softer as he speaks. “Just the stereotypical case of unreciprocated love, or like one person just not feeling it anymore.”
 “So you loved her?” It asked so quietly that he almost doesn’t hear you over the chimes of his game still playing in the background, forgotten and now sound tracking the trepid atmosphere around you.
 He doesn’t verbally reply, just nods. He knows you’ll feel the movement.
 It hurts him when you go still in his hold. Like you didn’t want that to be the answer. You recover quickly, however, inquiring him again. “Did she break your heart?”
 He can’t help but laugh a little behind you, the words sounding far too dramatic for him. “Yeah I guess so?” he answers, “But it wasn't like traumatizing if that’s what you’re thinking. I just cared for her more than she cared about me in the end. That’s how it always is, right?” He pauses, hums like he’s thinking. “Plus she was the first girl I was with, blah blah blah, you know how the story goes.”
 You make a confused noise in front of him like you’re trying to understand and wrap your head around what he just said. “Did that really not affect you at all?”
 You’re probably wondering why he is the way he is, if his first heartbreak isn’t his anti-commitment origin story. He doesn’t blame you.
 Jeongguk thinks about his words for a second. He’s not lying. It wasn’t traumatizing. Maybe it did change him, how he views things, people, love. But it wasn’t tragic. He just kind of became this way as he got older. He has no real backstory for why he is the way he is, why he loves to be loved but will never love in return. Not in the way the other person deserves, at least. Even if he wanted to, he never would. Because as selfish as it is, the one thing he craves more than love, than anything, is his freedom. And in his head he can’t have it all. 
 And maybe that is tragic in a sense, but he’s never really thought of it as a bad thing. Knows that sometimes in order to have something he wants, he has to give up something else. 
 “I mean… I see love differently now. I don’t know if my viewpoint changed because of the break up or just because I got older and realized what’s important to me, but I probably used to think about love closer to the way you do… head in the clouds,” he nudges you playfully, like he’s trying to lighten the mood, “too much faith in people. A top tier romantic and the number one idealist.”
 He knows it’s hard to picture. But he was more like you than he would care to admit. Maybe that’s why he’s so much more careful with you. Because he knows.
 “How do you see love now?”
 Sometimes Jeongguk thinks he’s heartless. But when you ask him questions like that, the kind that you already know the answer to, but ask anyway, hoping that he will tell you something different, tell you what you want to hear… He knows he’s not because his heart aches in his chest. 
 He knows he’s not heartless, because he does his best to be soft with you, to make whatever this is between you both, as painless as possible. And that’s why he never lies to you about this kind of stuff, because he knows if he did, it would hurt so much more later. And he doesn’t want that. Jeongguk is selfish with you, but he never wants to hurt you.
 “You know how I see it, ___,” he murmurs softly, like he’s trying to be gentle. Almost like he’s reminding you. “Why are you asking questions that you know are going to-”
 Hurt you.
 He doesn’t say it, because he doesn’t need to. He knows you know that’s what he means. 
 He feels bad when you start to backtrack. “No, no. I’m not. It’s okay…” you rush out as you shift onto your knees and face him again, hands coming up to cup his face. “Thank you for telling me,” You kiss him gently, hands squeezing, thumb rubbing over the scar on his cheek. You’re too soft, too good for someone like him. “I’m sorry for being nosy, I was just curious.”
 His hands on your hips squeeze, and he pulls you closer, brushes his nose against yours before he kisses you. “It’s okay, I’m sorry for getting upset just-” he breathes hot and sharp against your lips, “Kiss me.”
 Falling into each other after moments like these is easy. It’s been happening more lately, rough talks turning into rough touches. But again, it’s just so simple. It’s easy to stop the fights and the questions with his lips against yours, it's easy to forget the things he does behind your back when he has you on yours beneath him, and it’s easy to pretend like that’s all there is. Just you and him. Two parts of the same star you might say. 
 But even though it’s simple, Jeongguk still wonders how long easy will be enough. 
 His hair smells like vanilla.
 He took at shower at yours just a bit earlier so it's a familiar scent, one that’s comforting and soft. The warm water made him cozy and pliant. When he came out with damp hair and pink skin he made his way over to you, maneuvering your body till you were flat on your back so he could cuddle up and lay on top of you, head resting on your chest and his body between your legs.
 You’ve got your laptop resting on the coffee table in front of you, one arm out haphazardly doing your homework, the other carding through Jeongguk’s hair, tucking little stray pieces of blue behind his ear. He hasn’t moved in a bit, just content laying with you in the quiet, the tv a mindless background noise. You wonder if he fell asleep.
 It’s only sometime later that he’s shifting, rubbing against your shirt.
 “Baby?” he muses, sleepy and quiet.
 “Hmm?” you drone, eyes on your computer still.
 He looks around a little like he didn’t mean to fall asleep and now is trying to make sense of the missing piece in his memory. “I slept?”
 You look at him and your heart beats a little faster, an unconscious smile playing on your lips as you take in his pout, the red of his cheek from being slept on. “Yeah I think so… the drool on my shirt says that you did,” you tease.
 He flushes a little before plopping back down on your chest with a groan. He asks you what time it is and when you say a little after 9:00pm, he groans again. 
 “I don’t want to get ready,” he mumbles, hand absently squeezing your boob.
 You hum, hand back in his hair, eyes back on your school work. “You could always stay?” 
 He hums back, “Or you could come with me.”
 He sounds cute and hopeful, the little catnap making him softer and melt in your mouth sweet. Like a Hershey’s kiss that was left in the sun for just a little too long. 
 But as tempting as he is, you decline, telling him you have to get this paper done and work on that project for your writing class. And study. Spring midterms are next week after all. 
 He huffs a small sigh, sounds like he’s close to drifting off again when he mumbles, “Gonna miss you.”
 You wonder if he can feel the way your heart skips, if he can feel all the little shooting stars in your chest crash into the pit of your stomach, tiny little explosions of endearment and fondness and love. You want to tell him again, that he could stay, skip the party, if he really wanted to. But you know he has his mind made up, and that he doesn’t really want much of anything.
 Being with Jeongguk is getting harder. Not bad really, just a little more difficult to deal with. The comfort of being with him slowly morphing into a yearnful ache. You don’t let yourself think about it often, knowing that you’re not going to do anything to change the situation. Too scared to try, if you’re being honest. But in times like these where his affection is so gentle and so tender that it almost hurts? It’s hard to ignore all the things you both leave unsaid and cast to the side. 
 That doesn’t stop you, however, from reverting back to what you both know and what is safe.
 “You’ll miss me?” you tease.
 He grumbles, like he’s a little embarrassed, buries his face between your tits.
 You giggle and pull his hair a tiny bit making him look at you. “Maybe I should make you feel good before you go? Wake you up a little?”
 He narrows his eyes and scowls at you, playful fire lighting up his eyes, “I thought you had homework?”
 “I do, but it won’t take that long.”
 He rolls his eyes and sits up like he’s getting ready to leave, “I hate you. I cum in my pants one time and you never leave it alone.”
 You laugh, and as hard as he tries to keep a smile at bay, you can see the corner of his lips quirk up. He settles into the couch a little away from you and acts like he’s giving you the silent treatment.
 But you know the game, you’ve both played it before. Act mad and hurt, get babied and taken care of. You give in, so easy for him just like the first time you made him cum and all the other times after that. 
 You don’t waste time as you crawl over to him and settle on his lap, your hips straddling his. He doesn’t give you much other than his hands resting on your ass, thumbs slipping under your shirt to rub a bit at your hip bones. He regards you quietly, just looking you over until his eyes land on your lips and hesitate before flicking back to your eyes.
 You lean in, ready to give him what he clearly wants, but he’s stubborn as ever despite his suppleness, turning his head away at the last moment with a close-lipped giggle. 
 You scoff softly before taking a new route, undeterred. Now going straight for his neck, kissing on the little mole he has on the side. Your tongue tastes him first, skin warm and clean, before your lips latch on in a light suction, barely sucking as he purrs and tilts his head. 
 A hand travels down his chest and you palm him over his sweats at the same time that you pull some skin between your teeth and bite. He gasps, and the hands on your ass squeeze, pulling you closer to him, and you revel in the way his hips just barely push up into your palm. 
 He’s much needier and more eager when he’s in this mood. Not quite submissive, but more lenient. Maybe you’re taking advantage of his soft, hazy state when you start sucking a bruise on his neck, right over that freckle where everyone can see, but you can’t help yourself. Once you taste a star, it’s a constant craving, something that you fiend for. And when he feels the pressure of your mouth, and the pain, he doesn’t stop you, just pulls you impossibly closer. He hisses when you scrape your teeth and then whines when you lick over the mark.
 You pull away when he starts to squirm and then settle on the floor, the plush rug underneath you a soft cushion for your knees. He spreads his legs quickly, easy for you in the way you typically are for him. Looking down his nose at you, he waits patiently for you to start touching him again.
 When you do, he lets out the softest sigh, lets his head fall back for just a moment before looking at you again, a newfound darkness swimming in his eyes. He’s already hard, just from a few small touches over his clothes and a couple kisses to his neck. His pants get pushed down, pooling by his ankles. 
 You moan a little when you take him in your hand, rub your thighs together some. The skin of his length is a pretty pink, and soft to the touch. 
 “Already hard?” you ask, a smile in your voice as you grip him a little tighter and stroke slowly.
 He nods, eyes going between your hand and your face. Your hair is messy and you’ve got your big round reading glasses on. “I’m always super horny when I wake up, you know that,” he tells you, unashamed.
 Humming, you nod. You do know, but you wish you knew better. You wish you got to experience it more. Got to wake up with him more than you do, got to disappear under the covers in the soft morning light to wrap your lips around him more often than you do, got to wake him up with slow slurps and wet kisses more than you do. You wish you just got to be with him more than you do.
 But you don’t.
 The passive reminder is heavy on your heart like he is heavy on your tongue, the tip of his cock leaking just a tiny bit when you press your tongue flat to the sensitive part under the head. You look at him as you do that, you take in the way his brows turn up and his mouth parts.
 He pushes a piece of hair behind your ear, and his voice is soft and raspy when he tells you, “You’re so pretty, baby.”
 You blush and adjust your glasses, shifting on your knees a little. “Thank you,” you reply with a quick kiss to his length.  
 Sometimes the sweet, soft things that you do make him go crazy. You think so at least, because when you place those small kitten kisses up and down his cock, it jerks in your hold, pulses hot and hard for you. When you flick your eyes to Jeongguk, his bottom lip is pulled between his teeth and his eyes are closed.
 You keep your gaze on him as you wrap your mouth completely around the swollen tip, and suckle. Your pussy clenches when Jeongguk’s body goes tense, hips dipping into the cushion of the couch like he’s trying to run away from you and how good your mouth feels. 
 “Fuck-” he whines, looking at you quickly before letting his eyes fall shut again.
 He brings his hands up, laces them through your hair and pushes slightly, kind of encouraging you to sink down farther, but not demanding like he usually would. You let his hands slowly guide you down his cock, your palms on his thighs, feeling as they tense more and more with every inch of him that you take in. He shutters when you reach the base, nose against his lower belly, his tip brushing against the back of your throat. He pulls you off with the same sluggish speed, almost like he’s using your mouth to tease and torture himself with the leisurely pace that he’s setting.
 The next time you sink down on his cock, you stick your tongue out, and lick at his balls, making him spread his legs more and push up into your throat, the tip breaching where your gag reflex would be if you had one. 
 “Yeah, baby-” he chokes out, “Love your mouth, fuck…”
 You drool and swallow and suck on his cock like it's the last time you ever will, like it's the best thing you’ve ever tasted. You add your hands too, once Jeongguk settles back and brings his fingers to his chest, toying with his nipples rather than pulling at your hair. His eyes are hazy as he watches you, as he listens to the slick clicking noises of your strokes and nasty slurping sounds of your mouth. 
 “That’s so fucking good,” Jeongguk says as his hips twitch, a shuddering sigh tailing his groans.
 You pull off and stroke him with just your hands, wanting to see how he looks, how he reacts. The way his crew neck is bunched up with his hands underneath playing with his body just like you. How his abs tense when you rub at the little spot under the crown, how his cock spurts just a baby bit of clear precum when you do it harder.
 “So big, Koo, so wet,” you praise.
 He nods and agrees easily with a distracted and breathy, “Mmh- yeah.”
 Jeongguk is fussy in your hand squirming as he gets closer. He takes one of his hands out from under his sweater and pushes and paws at the strap of your tank top. “Off- wanna see,” he whines quietly.
 You give a cute nod, and rake your nails down his bare thighs gently and then sigh. Pleased at the way he shivers, his sleepiness making him so responsive. Then you do as he asks, pushing the straps down and letting your big tits bounce freely. 
 “God you’re so sexy,” he sighs, a hand now wrapped around his cock, stroking fast.
 “Do you like them?” you whisper, small hands grabbing and shaking them a little, nipples hardening at your own touch.
 Jeongguk nods, tells you what you already know. That he loves them, wants them in his mouth, wants his cock between them.
 “Wanna fuck them?” you offer.
 But like he wants too many things all at once and can’t decide, he backtracks on his previous statement, words fumbling and cute as he settles for just shaking his head and saying eloquently, “No. Mouth.”
 “You’re a little needy today,” you muse, bringing your hand up to grip his cock only for it to be swatted away.
 “Shut-” he moans when you tease the tip with your tongue, cock kicking and a drop of precum dribbling from his slit. “up. Mouth only.”
 “Okay baby,” you comply easily.
 Jeongguk’s tattooed hand is holding the base of his cock so it doesn’t throb and kick as your lick and suck at him, just his thumb and forefinger keeping himself in place. He sputters out tiny whines and little sighs as you blow him, little moans of your own thrumming against his length.
 When you bring your tongue back to the tip, little quick flicks over his frenulum, he tenses and jerks before sinking into the feeling.
 “Ah- just like that… your tongue, just your tongue baby.”
 His sensitivity is so gratifying. So worked up, that just the tip of your tongue is enough to get him wiggling and squirming. 
 “Think I’m gonna cum?” he warns, a puzzled pitch to his tone.
 Though Jeongguk has always been sensitive, he’s never cum from just your tongue licking at him, always needing a hand around his cock, or your mouth sucking on him, your pussy milking him. This makes a little flame burn hot in your belly, eager to make him feel good in a way you haven’t before.
 “Just from my tongue?” you ask against the tip.
 He nods, hasty and jerky with his movements. “Yeah, keep licking me- so close- please,” he says quietly.
 While making him feel good just how he asked, you flick and lick and suckle at the underside of the crown, tasting him as he leaks for you, watching as he fights against the urge to fuck up into your mouth and stroke his cock. His chest is rising and falling, puffing out hot, high pitched breaths. His free hand is now gripping at the cushion of the couch rhythmically, knuckles white. 
 You smile, with your tongue out, knowing the signs, having made him fall apart so many times before. Slurping and suctioning a little so that you can lick constantly over him is what makes him lose it.
 His jaw hangs open and his brows turn up, “I love that, oh my god, fuck-” he moans head dropping to the back of the sofa. “I’m cumming, baby,” he breathes.
 His body locks up and the hand gripping the sofa pulls at the cushion as he curls in on himself, his cock spurting out a shot of cum every time it pulses. He’s almost whimpering, as you keep flicking your tongue lightly on him. Eyes squeezed shut, hand still holding his cock in place for you, like he doesn’t want you to stop even though he’s twitching now, overstimulated and too sensitive. You give one last, slow lick over the whole length of him before you pull away.
 Finally Jeongguk untenses and lets himself relax into the couch, deep breaths filling his lungs. He looks pretty, sweaty and thoroughly fucked out, his hand idly rubbing up and down his tummy. 
 He’s still leaning back, eyes closed as he basks in the afterglow of his orgasm when he says, “Put my cock away, please.”
 You giggle and pull his sweats up for him, and he lifts his hips to help you. You pat his cock gingerly when it’s tucked inside.
 Finally he peeks at you, eyes hazy as he opens them. They get more alert quickly, though, when he sees the state you’re in. He sits up, smiling big and laughing.
 “Baby,” he coos, leaning in to peck you on the lips between his breathy laughter, “look at you, so messy,” he pinches your cheek as he sits back some, looking at how you’re covered in his cum. A spurt on your chin, another across the bridge of your nose and cheek, and a final one on the lens of your glasses.
 You beam at him and he looks you over once more before leaning down to your level again, hands fondling your tits a little as he whispers in your ear, “So, cute. My cute baby.” He kisses your temple before standing and telling you he’ll be right back with a cloth to clean you.
 It takes him a bit longer than it normally would, and when he comes out you know why. He’s dressed in his party clothes, shoes already on. A little hint of melancholy makes a home behind your ribs. But he still looks so lovely when he crouches in front of you, eyes bright like the lights in the sky. 
 “Sorry,” he says with a bashful smile, “Checked the time while I was in there- gotta run.”
 You nod, always understanding of his quick exits and flighty ways. “Have fun,” you say quietly.
 He brushes a thumb over your cheek and looks at you. His touch is gentle while his gaze is intense. With pinched brows and a pensive purse to his lips, he leans in slowly, nuzzles your cheek briefly before kissing you. 
 His kisses are evil, you’re sure of it. So deliberate and passionate that they make your head spin. Sweet as he licks into your mouth, as he breathes you in, hands cupping your faces as he brings you closer. Mean as he pulls away, leaving you breathless and longing for more. 
 “I’ll see you,” he assures you as he gets to his feet. 
 You smile because he will. 
 When you arrive at the party it’s just like any other one. You first make your way through the crowd to the kitchen, Yoongi and Taehyung in tow. You pour yourself a drink, and just like always it takes about 2 minutes for you to realize you may have been better off at home. It’s too hot, and it smells like cheap weed, and the cheap fragrance that is half hazardously spritzed here and there to try and cover up the smell. The alcohol is cheap, $10 New Amsterdam lines the counter, a bunch of half empty bottles with mismatched lids. The red solo cup in your hand is cheap. The girl in front of you sitting in Jeongguk’s lap is cheap.
 Or maybe she’s not. You don’t know. Don’t really care. In the morning, you’ll process how it’s not the other girl’s fault, and how it’s Jeongguk you should be calling names. You’ll think rationally about how she likely didn’t know about you, when she took her place on his thighs. You’ll understand that there’s no way she could have known how highly you think of the boy she’s sinking her teeth into, how you think, know he’s made of stars, how when you think of him you see the color pink. How could she? Jeongguk evidently didn’t tell her. She probably doesn’t know. You know that. You’ll process it in the morning.
 But right now all you can process the sickly feeling crawling it’s way up your throat. All you can feel is the way your palms get sweaty, and a little shaky, your fight or flight making adrenaline course through your veins as you just watch. 
 Watch as Jeongguk obliviously carries on conversations with the people you’ve come to know at these parties. You watch as he mindlessly tilts his head so the girl he has in his lap can kiss his neck better. So she can make him feel good, better. She’s sitting much like you were during the first party you attended here, on that same gross, stained sofa. Jeongguk’s got his hands all over her just like he had them all over you that night, in front of everyone. The same hands that were all over you just a few hours ago.
 You glance around the circle you’re still on the outskirts of, Taehyung and Yoongi on your flank, taking in everything you’re seeing as well, a tense silence falling over your trio, them waiting to see what you want to do. Jeongguk’s circle doesn’t even bat an eye at the fact that there is a random girl that is not you, kissing on him. They just carry on conversations with him, like he’s the best multitasker in the world. 
 Or maybe she’s not random, you think, realize. All the times you’ve declined his invites to these types of functions flash in your head and you have to close your eyes, have to really focus on not hurling the little bit of alcohol you were able to ingest on your way from the kitchen to the living room. But a laugh that you’ve always adored and grown to love these past few months fills your ears, automatically making your eyes flick open and search for him.
 He’s got his eyes closed now, and you can see the way the hand on her thigh is clenching in pleasure. He hums at something someone says, his bottom lip drawn between his teeth. He chuckles again, a breathy one. A distracted one, one that’s sounded just to appease a shitty joke that’s been told. Your eyes move to the girl. She’s working her teeth and her tongue over that mark you know you left just a few hours ago. Darkening it, making it her own. She can’t erase it, no. But she can take its place. 
 It’s almost slow motion when she detaches and moves her hand to Jeongguk’s jaw. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch her, you know what she’s doing. 
 Jeongguk’s eyes flutter open in that hazy way they do when he’s distracted and turned on. When you see her apply pressure getting him to angle his head towards her, his lips towards hers, your heart clenches. He just goes with it so easily. Like it’s second nature, like he’s used to it, does it often in fact. He doesn’t even try to fight it at all. His eyes flick down to her lips, and he leans in, and you can’t watch anymore. You don’t want her to know what the stars taste like. What your star tastes like.
 “Hey Kook.” It’s still a nickname, but it sounds so much harsher than the soft ‘Koo’ or occasional ‘baby’ you usually reserve for him. 
 It’s satisfying to see the way his body tenses and the way his eyes fly open at the sound of your voice. His head looks around the room quickly a few times, before finally landing on you. 
 What’s not so satisfying is the way he makes no move to separate himself from the girl who is now just leaning her head on his shoulder, eyeing you. She’s got a sly smile on her face, and she’s kicking her legs that are swung over Jeongguk’s lap like she’s bored. Just waiting for the inevitably tense moment to pass so she can get back to what she was doing. Jeongguk clears his throat.
 “___. I- um. I didn’t think you were coming… Like I thought you said you weren’t when I saw you earlier?” He phrases it like a question, like he didn’t understand what happened earlier was a lot more than him ‘just seeing you’. Like he might be able to blame whatever this is on a miscommunication, a little mistake. 
 Your blood is boiling, but you can’t even find it in yourself to be angry with him. You guys aren’t dating. Technically he’s not doing anything wrong. If you got mad right now, it would be crazy of you; controlling. 
 No, you can’t really be angry. But you can be hurt. And you are. So irrevocably hurt, you can feel the hollow pain settle in your chest, and make a home in your lungs. It hurts to breathe.
 “Yeah… I finished my paper after all. Thought I would surprise you. Since you- since you invited me.” You cringe at the way you sound. So childish, naïve, foolish, hopeful. Your eyes jump between him and the girl still comfortably settled in his lap. You can see her playing with some of the longer pieces of his hair at the nape of his neck. You look away. 
 Jeongguk sighs like he doesn’t know how to fix the situation he’s got himself into. “You didn’t have to do that.” He has a faux sweet tone to his voice, like he’s appreciative of the gesture, the thought, but it just wasn’t necessary. 
 His coolness makes the tears that you’ve been fighting finally sting. So many welling in your eyes, you don’t even need to blink before they trek freely down your cheeks.
 A watery, self deprecating laugh leaves your lips before you murmur, “Clearly.” 
 You gesture to the girl, finally forcing you both to acknowledge the proverbial elephant in the room. Jeongguk winces, like he’s the one that’s hurt. You chuckle again. “But hey, listen. Have fun okay? I’ll see you.” Your voice cracks, and you hastily run out of the room.
 Jeongguk tries to call out to you, even pushes the girl’s legs off, but you’re already lost in the crowd. He groans and flops back onto the couch, running his hands over his face.
 When there’s loud banging on your apartment door, it’s expected.
 It’s Jeongguk. Of course it is. Out of breath from running to your door from the elevator, he has distraught eyes, like he’s frazzled with his hair askew. But still, he looks so devastatingly pretty. 
 You look at him up and down, and you feel your eyes water again. Tears welling heavy, like the numb feeling in your chest. Pictures of him with his eyes closed and a girl on his neck flash in your mind. You take a deep trembling breath, willing yourself to keep it together.
 “What?” you say simply. You try to sound mad, but really you just sound tired. 
 He shifts in your doorway, looking down at his feet before meeting your gaze. You know you look like a mess with red rimmed eyes and probably some mascara running underneath. You couldn’t be bothered.
 “Can I come in?” he whispers. 
 You scowl. “Why?”
 He shrugs, a defensive gesture. “I wanna talk to you?”
 You scoff and roll your eyes before turning away, leaving the door open for him. You sit on your couch, and watch as Jeongguk awkwardly stands in front of you. He looks so nervous and so out of place in your apartment, a sight that is such a stark difference to how he was earlier. So soft for you, so sweet for you. Easy to hold and easy to love. You never thought you’d see him in your home, antsy with stress and not pleasure. Something so cold it burns, settles in your chest.
 “__ I-”
 “You got here fast,” you interrupt. 
 Jeongguk flinches at your sharp tone. “Huh?”
 “You got to my place fast. Must have cum pretty quick huh?” The bitterness in your tone is scathing, and Jeongguk’s taken aback by your tone, having never heard you sound like that with him before.
 He sighs, “No we-”
 “Oh you didn’t? Did she just blow you?”
 “Please, __ just-” 
 “Jerked you off in the bathroom th-”
 “I didn’t fuck her __!” Jeongguk yells. His hands are in his hair, tugging before they run down his face, pulling his skin in aggravation. 
 You flinch on the couch. But you turn your nose up to him, and tuck your feet under you making yourself small. Even though you’re on the verge of tears, your words are icy. “Well, I’m sorry I interrupted and ruined that for you.”
 He sounds defeated when he groans and makes his way over to you, sitting next to you on the sofa. “I didn’t sleep with her.” 
 With him so near, you can feel the warmth of his body start to melt away the anger you felt, leaving just the tangible ache and hurt. 
 “Please look at me?” he asks quietly. He reaches his hand out, but you shy away from the touch, squeezing as close to the armrest as you can.
 You shake your head. Your chin is quivering, ugly dents forming as you suck in one of those stuttering breaths. The kind that gives away just how close you are to breaking. And if you look at him and his starshine eyes and moon glow skin you will. You know you will. 
 “Baby, please.”
 You feel his hand cup your cheek and gently press, guiding you to look at him. Just like the girl from earlier did to him. Your eyes drop to his neck and there it is. It’s an ugly dark purple mark on his soft skin. You feel sick, and the softest cry sneaks past your lips. You close your eyes and take a deep breath willing yourself to keep your composure. But it’s so hard when even just looking at him hurts. 
 When you take him in again, you’re met with his gaze. He looks pained too, despite the circumstances. Despite this being his fault. The hand on your cheek is gentle, like the thumb wiping away at your quiet tears. He looks at you. Really looks at you.
 “I swear I didn’t.” It’s said softly, but he’s begging. He’s begging you to believe him.
 And it sucks because you do. You know he’s telling the truth and it just hurts you and confuses you more. The fact that he left her to come and find you. The fact that he’s here making sure you know that he didn’t do anymore than just let her kiss on him; that he didn’t cross whatever invisible line in this ‘relationship’ that’s not even real, anymore than he already has. 
 You look at him sadly, the smallest smile on your lips as you whisper, “But you would have.”
 His face falling is all the confirmation you need, and the way your heart breaks in your chest is clean and sharp. The pain takes your breath away.
 He hangs his head, and his hand falls from your face to land on your thigh. 
 “I’m sorry.” Is all he says. No denial. No nothing that could make anything better because even the apology that just fell from his lips was only uttered because you found out. 
 But then you’re reminded that in reality, he didn’t do anything wrong. He’s not your boyfriend. You have no say in what he does, or who he does. 
 Though your lips are shy, comfortable with only his, his lips are sociable and like playing with friends. Though your hands are small, not even big enough to hold all the love for the fallen star in front of you, his are big. Big enough to hold many things, maybe not love, but surely people. It’s a painful realization, when you come to the conclusion that your naiveté got in the way of you seeing things clearly, that your rose-tinted glasses kept you from seeing things for what they really are, and not what you had wanted them to be. It’s painful getting caught in the path of an imploding star. 
 “No, I’m sorry,” you murmur, bringing a hand up to wipe at your tears. “I- you’re not mine. I shouldn’t even be upset. You didn’t do anything wrong.” You try to laugh, but it comes out pitiful and pained and wet because the stupid tears just won’t stop.
 He looks up at you hesitantly. He speaks slowly, like he’s unsure. “Just because it wasn’t wrong… doesn’t mean it was right.”
 And that’s a line if you’ve ever heard one. But it works, and it’s true. You just look at him, waiting for him to continue.
 “And I hurt you.” His hand is back on your cheek again, and his eyebrows are pinched and his lips are set in a frown. 
 Him acknowledging that pain he caused doesn’t help ease it. If anything it makes it hurt worse. 
 You nod in his palm, confirming. “Yeah, you did.”
 Maybe you’re seeing things, but his eyes well with tears to match yours, and he’s crowding closer to you taking up your space. “How do I fix it? How do I make it better?” 
 Your shoulders shake with the cries you're trying to keep in. “I don’t know if you can. Or if you even actually want to.”
 He’s frantic and he shakes his head. “No, no I do!” He’s holding your face in his hands, forcing you to see how much he means it.
 But it just makes the heavy tears fall faster. “Jeongguk you-”
 He kisses you. It’s desperate and hard, like he’s begging for something you’re not even sure he knows. Lips moving against yours slow and molten hot like lava, teeth clicking when you pull away to take a breath, to cry. Palms gripping roughly as if bruises made by hands will hurt less and replace the ones that are made from careless actions. When he backs away, it’s just enough for him to speak, his forehead on yours, his lips still brushing yours.
 “Please, I’m so sorry, I’m so, so sorry,” he chants. When he finds other words besides apologies, he whispers, “Let me make it better, let me fix it.”
 His mouth leaves a blazing trail down your neck, kissing urgently but so, so softly, like it's the only thing he knows how to do gently with you. 
 I’m sorry.
 You don’t fight him when he presses into you, the weight of his body falling over you as he coaxes your legs open and settles between them. He makes you look at him and leans in to kiss you for real, on the lips. But you turn away, a whimper falling from your lips. This doesn’t discourage him, though. And you don’t stop him. His lips, or his hands. Because although they hurt you and cause you so much pain, they also make you feel so good, reminding you of all the sweet things he has said, the things he has done. Maybe he doesn’t love you but it feels like he does in that moment.
 I’m sorry.
 He’s so gentle and so careful with you, when he gets you bare. When he lines himself up and slides in. He gasps with you and moans. He buries his face in your neck, biting and sucking as he rocks his hips, before he takes a deep breath and kisses soothingly over the marks he made like he didn’t mean to lose himself and didn’t mean to cause you pain. In contrast, you dig your nails into his back for that exact reason.
 I’m sorry.
 He hisses at your harsh touch, and his hips pick up pace. He’s been whispering to you the whole time, whenever he can between the whines and groans falling from his lips. Telling you he’s sorry, how he will do better, how he’s never going to stop making you feel good. You nod, wanting to believe it, hoping that he means it. He brings a hand between your bodies, rubs you until you finish around him. Making you feel good in one of the only ways he knows how.
 Kiss me.
 He begs for the small affection as his hips start to stutter, thrusts growing erratic and jerky. You’ve always been weak for him, so you give in. Easy, easy, easy. Like it’s second-nature. Jeongguk kisses you while he cums, gasping into you, hips slowing but not stopping until he has nothing left to give.
 “Can I stay?” he asks, so softly.
 “You’ve never wanted to before,” you reply, rolling away from him.
 “I want to now,” he insists, tentatively curling around you. “Please?”
 You don’t reply, but you don’t move away.
 When you wake up, you’re surprised to see he’s still there. That he hasn’t run out on you. It’s foolish, but as you lay with him you let your mind wander. A few could be’s running laps around your fatally lovesick brain.
 The night before could be a misunderstanding. Things could be okay.
 Maybe you could be his.
 Maybe he could be yours.
 Everything is pink.
 The cherry blossoms that have reached full bloom, large pink flowers dancing when the breeze blows.
 Your heart glowing pink, beating warm in your chest. Fluttering like the petals that rain from strong branches.
 Jeongguk’s cheeks as they swell with a flush, a pink cast that’s a perfect match to the glow of your heart.
 “What are you staring at?”
 Your eyes were hazy with thought before you heard his voice, but at the sound of his soft, inquisitive tone you refocus, realizing you’ve been staring. 
 Jeongguk bringing you to the Cherry Blossom Festival was a sweet, baby pink surprise. The last few weeks have been, really. After the first stilted week following that party, after the doctor’s appointments to make sure you were clean, despite his insistence that you didn’t need to, him claiming he used protection with the other girls, and after the hard talks, things seemed to actually be going okay. Back to how they were before that night, at the very least. 
 The parties have been less frequent, and even though he doesn’t say it, you know that him not going as often, and bringing you when he does go, is him trying. Trying to show you that he cares, trying to show you that he’s sorry for hurting you. Trying to show you that he’s putting in effort that he didn’t before.
 He lets you know where he is if you’re not with him, texts you when he gets home, stays the night more often. He makes a point to take you to Blushing Brews from time to time despite him not working there anymore, tattooing full time now. The new girl behind the counter that replaced him is a little younger but nice enough even though she doesn’t give you your oat milk for free like Jeongguk used to. You think him taking you there regularly is him trying to be sentimental, and it makes your heart flutter in your chest.
 Before the incident you both were already together so often, almost constantly, so with the added bonding your lives are almost one. 
 So although things haven’t evolved into more, you think that maybe with time, they could. And you think that if he’s at least trying, that’s all you can ask for. You’re not going to push him, or demand things from him that he doesn’t willingly want to give. Because just like always, you’re worried that he will run. That you will scare him. Being with him in some way is better than not being with him at all.
 You reach a small hand up and pluck a petal from his long, blueberry locks. His eyes cross when you present the little flower to him.
 “Had something in your hair,” you say with a tiny smile.
 He blows it out of your hand. “Ugh they are everywhere,  you have some in your hair too.” He leans away from the tree trunk he was resting against and cards a tattooed hand through your hair. He pauses for a moment looking around until he finds a whole blossom that fell, instead of just single petals, tucking it behind your ear.
 You’re sitting in front of him, face to face, between his legs, your own bent and kind of caging him in. His legs doing the same to you.
 His eyes scan your face for a moment before he smiles softly, hand cupping your jaw and urging you forward for a gentle kiss. He tastes like a mix of the cherry syrup that filled the cherry blossom bread mixed and the sakura ice cream you both were munching on. Sugary sweet and creamy. 
 He hums when he pulls away, eye still closed before he grins, lazy and serene. “Are you having a good time?” he murmurs. 
 You look around. See kids running around and screaming, gathering handfuls of fallen petals and throwing them in the air just to watch them snow down once again. You see couples all over, young and old, hand in hand, or lips locked together. So many stars out despite the sun still being warm and bright in the sky.
 With eyes falling back on Jeongguk, you feel that intense lovestruck warmth bubble over in your chest, so full and overflowing with adoration. Even after the hurt he caused and the pain you felt, all you feel is love. You don’t think there could be room for anything else, no matter what happens.
 You peck him cute and sweet, and nod. “Yeah, thank you for bringing me. Everything is so pretty here.”
 His hands grip at the smallest part of your waist between his legs. “Not as pretty as you.” He brushes his nose against your cheek, and you squirm a little, his hair tickling your cheek as he moves to whisper in your ear, “Prettiest girl ever.”
 He kisses on you a little, not too much considering you're out in the open, but enough to make you scoot as close to him as you can, bodies almost flush together. You breathing gets airy and you get a little lost in him, in the stars. So much so that you don’t notice when one of his hands slinks away from your waist and to his pocket.
 “Hey,” he whispers, bringing you back to earth. “I got you something.”
 You pull away surprised and look him in the eyes before you glance down at his closed fist. You pout a little, confused, before cupping your hands in front of him. He plops something light and shiny in your palms.
 The small silver necklace in your hand is simple but so beautiful. You remember lingering on it when you first got to the festival, the ornate little cherry blossom charm catching your eye. You didn’t think that Jeongguk noticed, but he must have slipped away to buy it when he went to get the food.
 Your eyes are shiny when you look up at him again, “Koo…” you whisper, “you didn’t have to-”
 “Shh,” he shushes you, his big hand petting at you, “I wanted to… do you like it? You prefer silver right? No gold?” He sounds nervous, a little eager to please and make you happy.
 You were admiring the necklace when he started speaking again, but at the mention of your jewelry preference you gaze at him again. “You remembered?”
 He smiles a little sheepishly, kind of shy. “Of course I did…” he pauses and looks like he’s debating on saying what’s on his mind. He starts slowly and hesitantly, “I know- I know it didn’t seem like it because of what I did… but I always listened, I always like, cared. I just-” he takes a deep breath like he doesn’t know how to say what he means, “I don’t know, there are just things I don’t know… things I don’t think I want.” He looks down, like he can’t face you.
 You place gentle hands on his face and urge him to meet your gaze once again. His lips are pursed and down turned and there’s an upward tilt to his pinched brows. 
 “It’s okay…” You wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face into him. 
 It’s okay, I love you.
 The words have been on the tip of your tongue for months, but lately, they have been trying to sneak out past your teeth on almost a daily basis. Getting harder and harder to bite down and conceal. It won’t be long before you’re choking on them, unable to swallow them anymore.
 He wraps his arms around your waist and squeezes a little. “It’s not okay,” he whispers. His sentence sounds unfinished like he has more to say, something he wants to tell you. 
 You’re heart pitter patters anxiously in your chest and you quickly speak up again before he has a chance to. 
 “I mean, don’t do it again. Please,” you laugh quietly, trying to lighten the mood, “But it’s over now and we can’t, like, change it so… we can think of it as character development!” you finish with a cheerful tone and a kiss to his neck.
 You pull back a little when you feel him tense under you for just a fraction of a second before relaxing again. He looks a little off, but kisses your worries away.
 “Yeah,” he agrees with you, tone breathy like it's said on a sigh.
 “Put it on for me?” you say handing the necklace back. You turn around between his thighs so that your back is now to him.
 Jeongguk’s fingers are gentle as they sweep your hair over your shoulder before wrapping his arms around you, the chain circling your neck. His fingers shake a little as he undoes that clasp, and he misses the hook a couple times before he finally gets it. He pulls your hair from under the dainty chain, and smooths his hands over your shoulders before placing a soft, wet kiss to the nape of your neck.
 It’s a subtle action, but it still makes your breath hitch in your throat, your heart beating just a little faster in your chest. He does it again, his tongue coming out this time, his teeth nibbling just a bit when you tilt your neck.
 “Ah- Koo-” you whine, quietly. 
 His arms are around your waist and you settle your hands on top of them like you know you should push them off, keep yourselves decent under the cherry blossom tree, but instead they just squeeze and keep him close. Your thighs squeeze together too.
 He hums into your neck, his breath hot against your ear when he whispers, “Ready to go?”
 You get to your car quickly, not bothering to dust yourselves off, stray petals littering the floor mats. Jeongguk drives, and you kiss on him while he does.
 The car ride was full of airy laughs and soft touches. Heated hands roaming over heated bodies, both yours and Jeongguk’s mind one tracked and ready. He doesn’t even get you in the door before his lips are on yours and his tongue is dancing in your mouth.
 Once he does actually get you to your room, he takes a breath, takes you in. His hands are on your hips, and yours are on his face as he rests his forehead against yours, eyes closing and breaths mingling. 
 He has his bottom lip pulled between his teeth to try and calm the giddy laughter that hasn’t stopped. You’re one in the same, tiny hiccupping giggles ring in his ears as your squeeze at his cheeks and kiss everywhere you can reach. Single pecks to his eyelids, his nose. Longer, honeyed kisses to his lips. He grips you harder, angles his hips against yours. You gasp for him, go pliant in his hold. 
 He buries his head in your neck, bites, sucks, kisses. Breathing in your subtle sweet vanilla scent, so familiar to him by now, he’s not sure he could go without a hit of it for longer than a day at this point. 
 When he reaches your collarbones, he sees the little flower nestled between the slightly protruding bones. It twinkles like a small star on your soft skin. He smiles as he toys with it for a second, before bringing his mouth back to yours, hasty and eager.
 Your hands are in his hair and he’s backing you up to the bed while his teeth nip at your lips, teeth clicking when he can’t help but smile, and consequently you smile back, instinctive and natural. You’re lost in the moment, and he’s lost in you. 
 Until you tug at his hair, keeping him in the present. You pull his mouth away from yours, but he’s needy, his lips immediately moving to whatever skin is within his reach.
 You laugh, and it sounds breathless in his ears. “Hey, Koo-” you moan, the grip in his hair tightening when his hands knead at your ass, “th-thank you.”
 He hums into your skin, a smirk on his cherry red lips. “Why are you thanking me?”
 “For today… I just-”
 Jeongguk’s kisses slow at your tone. You sound a bit unsure, a bit off. When he finally looks at you again, present enough to see through the haze of want that has clouded your bedroom, he sees it. 
 It’s so much brighter, more potent than it’s ever been before, like it’s all consuming and fervent in your eyes. Love. His heart skips a devastating beat. Not because he’s happy, or ecstatic, or relieved. But because he’s scared.
 His hands find your face, gripping a little too hard, he’s sure. Your small ones wrap around his wrists and squeeze tenderly, a little too gentle, he’s sure. 
 The way that your smile slowly drops is daunting. Your brows furrow and that little pout forms on your face and Jeongguk feels sick.
 “What’s wrong?” you ask gently, your thumb on his wrist rubbing softly over his skin.
 He shakes his head slightly, his eyes searching yours frantically waiting for that glow in them to die out. It usually does, like you’re able to contain it, bottle the feeling away until it’s like it was never there to begin with. 
 But this time it doesn't, you just continue to look at him like he is the brightest star in the sky, like he’s the other half to yours, like he completes you in that asinine way that romantics think can fix everything. He’s been there. And he knows that’s just not right. 
 “Please don’t,” he whispers.
 You’re shaking your head too, like your absentmindedly mirroring him. You sound so confused when you speak up, but you laugh a little like you don’t understand the joke. “Don’t what?”
 There is no joke. Jeongguk wishes there was. Wishes he could give you what you want, wishes that the way you look at him wasn’t suffocating, wishes that trying was enough. Because at least he did that. The last few weeks were enough for him to know that sometimes no amount of trying can make things fit together.
 “Don’t look at me like that,” he continues in a voice that sounds fraile and skittish in his ears.
 With brows even more pinched than before, and a perturbed expression on your face, you squeeze at his wrists, just a touch harder, like you’re trying to get him to focus. As if he isn’t fixated, as if he isn’t solely concentrated on your every movement, every slight change of expression. “Like what?”
 “Like you love me.”
 Jeongguk didn’t think it would hurt this bad. Didn’t think finally telling you that it wasn’t going to work, that he wasn’t going to be with you in that way, would be so profoundly painful. 
 But at the same time, part of him thinks that you knew it wouldn’t last. That you’ve known for a long time. The other part knows that you’ll hold on as long as he lets you. He’s always been so selfish with you.
 You flinch in his hold and you stutter a little as you shake your head in his hands. “Jeongguk I- it’s- please-”
 He doesn’t know what you’re begging for, but he knows he can’t give it to you. The pads of his thumb brush at the apples of your cheeks. He leans forward, kisses you softly before he murmurs against your lips, “Please just don’t- don’t ruin this,” he begs. His eyes are closed and his brows are scrunched. “We’re good like this, right?”
 He knows you’re just appeasing him when you nod your head, like you’re scared to lose him, but he lets out a relieved sigh all the same. Kisses you like he means it, because he does. So grateful that you’ve never been the pushy type, never been the type to cage him in or corner him. 
 Jeongguk loves making you cum, because you cum softly. Not like the other girls before you, during you, or the ones that will come after you. So, he focuses on that instead of the pestering thoughts in his head. The ones saying that if he could just figure himself out, maybe it could’ve been you. 
 He concentrates on shedding your clothes, fixates on the way you taste, committing it to memory. He runs his fingers over that star on your ribs, the skin just barely raised. It’s like a message in a special form of braille. I’m sorry etched into your skin, or maybe I tried. 
 You suck in a sharp breath when his tip breaches your center, and as every inch of him slides into you, you exhale a soft whine, brows pinched with a look reminiscent of pain as your lashes flutter.
 Jeongguk doesn’t take his eyes off you as he inhales your breath, drinking down the tiny moans that you make for him. He lingers on the way that you turn away from him like you’re trying to hide the flush that has covered your skin in the sweetest shade of pink, the way that you let your small hands clench into little fists. One by your head, the other at your mouth so you can bite at the knuckle. The way you gasp when he finally pushes into the hilt, back arching, toes curling.
 “So good for me baby, so perfect,” he breathes as he starts to set his pace, hips snapping forward into yours. 
 Your pussy feels like velvet around him, so wet and warm. He shudders every time his swollen tip drags against your walls, and he groans when you pull your legs back, opening yourself up for him.
 He’s got you on your back, tits bouncing as he pulls and pushes inside of you. They are plush and round, and so, so soft as he grips at them roughly. He groans when he digs his fingers in into the squishy skin, hard enough for blossoms to bloom. Your nipples are a dusty rose and they pebble when his touches go from hard to soft and teasing, rubbing over the small buds. Your breathing picks up with his strokes.
 No matter how many times he fucks you, it never gets old or tiring. You never get used to the way his fat cock stretches out your tiny cunt. You never get used to the juxtaposition between his harsh holds and tender caresses. 
 He fucks you so good every single time, it’s mind-numbing. Makes you forget about everything else. Makes you forget about the way your love seems to be on a time limit, the hourglass on its last grains of sand. He fucks you so good that you forget that he’s not yours despite you being so wholly his in every sense of the word. No more ‘you could be his’ floating around in your head.
 His, his, his.
 His to touch, to kiss, to fuck. 
 And he does exactly that. With hips still thrusting into you, he bends at the waist some, wraps his mouth around your nipple, tongue flicking lightly over it, making you mewl underneath him.
 You push up into the sensation, before you curl into yourself, hands coming to cradle his face and card through his hair, pushing some back out of his eyes. He glances at you with a gaze that feels like love, pretty and dark. Smiling, he smirks a little before briefly pulling the bud between his teeth. You hiss and let out the littlest cry of pain. He coos against your chest before soothing you with soft teasing laps of his tongue.
 With legs that are now wrapped around his waist, you use your heels to urge him to focus on fucking you, even if his mouth feels divine. 
 “Faster,” you pant, voice catching on a whine.
 “Yeah, baby?” he asks, moving so he’s over you, braced on the hands he places by your head. “Tell me what you want.”
 You moan, one hand cupping your own tit, the other just resting on his neck. He’s warm to the touch, and glistening with sweat as he fucks into you, fast just like you asked. “Want you to fuck me so good that I never forget it, never forget the way your cock feels inside of me.”
 His hips slow just a little, and he lowers himself to his forearms so that your bodies are close, the friction hot as you rub against each other. He sounds wistful when he brings his lips to your ear, cooing softly, “Don’t worry baby, I’ve already made sure you won’t.”
 He trails a hand down your body and presses against your ribs right where he knows your tattoo is. It makes you gasp, and he nips at your earlobe before he brings his hand back up.
 Instead of pinning your wrists like he normally would, Jeongguk intertwines your fingers. 
 The tears that prick your eyes could be from pleasure or a longing so deep it’s become painful, maybe both, but you don’t have a chance to discern them as your back arches, unable to squirm or move away in his hold.
 “Koo- I’m-” you warn him.
 He speeds his hips up, plunges fast and hard. “Oh baby, that’s it. Show me how this cock makes you feel, show me how I make you feel.”
 Jeongguk holds you down as you cum. Your fingers are laced with his and he moans along with you, pleasured by pleasuring you. By being the one that makes you fall apart, the one that makes you shake, and the one that makes your face look so obscenely pretty as you cum, clenching around his cock. 
 “Fuck,” he whines. Your cunt grips so tight around him, little pulsing contractions making his hips almost halt. 
 When you come down, relaxing a little in his hold, he’s quick to get his lips all over you. Not really kissing, more just mouthing at wherever he can reach as his thrusts grow erratic, fast and sloppy. 
 The sorta-kisses and pants that he breathes are burning hot. Leaving little scorch marks in their wake. When his lips find yours, when he whines the softest, most desperate ‘please’ against them; it’s searing. 
 It hurts to kiss him.
 You don’t know what he’s begging for, and you don’t know why it’s your instinct to say ‘it’s okay’, but you do. You think you hear him let out a quiet, relieved cry as he hides his face in your neck, squeezing your hands so hard you feel like your bones are going to break.
 “You gonna cum for me?” you whisper, voice salacious and saccharine sweet.
 He nods into your neck, a strained ‘Yeah’ falling from his lips. 
 “Baby, lemme see, wanna look at you,” you plead, pussy leaking again at his tone, at how wrecked he sounds.
 He groans and bites into your neck making you keen before he brings himself up a little. You whine when you see him. His eyes heavy, pupils blown. He’s flushed and his expression is hazy as he rams his cock into you, loud slaps and lewd wet noises sounding around you. His tongue licks at his lips and he bites the bottom one a little before his mouth parts, and his brows pinch, a silent moan written all over his features.
 “Gonna cum, fuck-” he whispers as his eyes roll back, before squeezing shut.
 He grits his teeth as he desperately fucks into you, a drop of sweat drips down his nose and lands on your cheek, and his hair sways around his face. You want to tuck it behind his ear so you can see it more clearly when he cums, but his hands are still holding yours. The fast pace he’s set makes your cunt tighten around him again, creaming all over his cock for the second time.
 He gasps and chokes out, “Yeah, god- I’m cumming… fuck I’m cumming-”
 His body tenses, and he spills inside of you as he buries his cock as deep as he can. Your pussy is still clenching as you feel the throbs and jerks, every spurt of white filling you up. He’s still thrusting slowly, milking himself, causing some of his cum to spill out, making you both filthy and gross.
 When he pulls out, he kisses you slow. Lazy licks of his tongue against yours, as he pets at your sweaty skin. With your hands finally free, you card them through his hair, untangling it as you go. He trails fingers down to your core and plays in the mess you both made. You whine a little, tender and a bit sore.
 He kisses you sweetly as an apology. “Let’s get you cleaned up?” he asks, voice small. 
 He takes you to the bathroom, washes you in the warm water and showers you in warm kisses. He lets you do the same to him, hands lathering vanilla soap over every ridge of his muscles. Your pussy pulses when he gets hard again as you wash his cock, but you know you wouldn’t be able to handle another round, so you stroke him till he’s cumming once more, against your tummy, with nothing but a small gasp. 
 The shower made you both pliant and docile, the comfort of your bed too hard to ignore. He falls asleep next to you, arms wrapped around your middle, soft snores tickling your neck. You run your fingers over the stars on his forearm till you succumb to exhaustion just like him. 
 When you wake in the early hours of the morning to light rainfall outside your window washing away the cherry blossoms, you’ll act surprised when Jeongguk is nowhere to be seen. Then you’ll act like it’s not a big deal; like it's the same as all the other times he didn’t stay the night. You’ll act like the ache in your chest isn’t breathtaking, agonizing. Like the pain doesn’t feel different this time. You’ll act like the first shower of the season really does signify new beginnings and you’ll act like the rain isn’t going to be a forever reminder of the end of you and him. Spring is here.
 It’s Jeongguk’s day off and he’s got his hands and his mind busy with playing video games so that he’s distracted and doesn’t have to think about the plethora of things going on in his life at the moment. All of them involving you.
 He’s distracting himself so he doesn’t have to think about the way he left in the middle of the night, after watching you briefly, asleep and serene, soft little puffs of air the only sound besides the rain outside. He is distracting himself so that the image of you reaching out in your sleep for someone who is no longer there, doesn’t plague his mind. He’s distracting himself so that he doesn’t have to acknowledge your calls or texts, incessant since he left. He’s distracting himself so that he doesn’t have to face you, and decide what to do about this thing he’s gotten himself into.
 Normally he would just brush everything under a rug and call it a day. Then settle back into the cyclical routine you both have become so used to. But there was no denying things were coming to a head, emotions gradually growing and becoming too intense, too deep to ignore. Last night was a prime example. Things were just becoming too much. You were becoming too much.
 He knows that’s a shitty way to see it. That it puts most, if not all, the blame on you. But he feels like he’s made it clear since the beginning. Clear that he doesn’t do relationships, that he doesn’t fall in love, that he doesn’t believe in stars the way that you do. Though he did try to make it work. Make himself want what you want. He feels bad. He’s always wanted this to end painlessly, even if that was a far fetched wish, delusional and too hopeful for someone like him. 
 It’ll hurt him too when it’s over. Despite his best efforts to keep his distance, and his feelings out of it, he would be a liar if he said he didn’t grow fond of you. If he said that he didn’t become so attached and comfortable, that even just the few hours he’s been apart from you, weren’t eating at him a little. Even with distractions, the dull ache and unfamiliar longing he feels still thrums in his chest. Like a pesky reminder that something is missing.
 Jimin is next to him on his couch, Jeongguk having called his friend over as another pastime. Jeongguk can see Jimin glancing between him and the phone on the cushion between them that hasn’t stopped going off. When Jimin finally speaks up, it’s expected.
 “Dude. What are you doing?”
 Jeongguk’s jaw tenses, and he too glances at your face on the screen until it goes black. He waits not even a minute before it’s lighting up with another call from you. He flips the phone over and goes back to his game only to see his character died. He groans and sets his controller in his lap before scrubbing his hands over his face.
 “Spring cleaning,” Jeongguk replies, trying to keep his tone nonchalant. 
 “God you're an ass,” Jimin laughs in an incredulous way, “Isn’t it a little late to be ghosting her? I’ve been with Tae for like four months, so it’s gotta be like what? Six months for you guys?”
 “Eight,” Jeongguk drones.
 Jimin’s eyebrows raise. “That’s pretty long for you…”
 He nods, expression a little sullen. The dark circles under his eyes make him look tired. “Yeah, a hook up turned fling turned whatever the fuck it is now… it’s just too much man.”
 Jimin frowns a little before he hums and Jeongguk plays his game while he waits for his friend to process his thoughts. Jimin’s voice is curious and gentle, not accusatory at all. “Is it ‘too much’ because you’re starting to care too much and you don’t know how to deal with that?”
 Jeongguk goes stiff on the couch, and his chest constricts a little. No, that wasn’t it. It can’t be. It’s always been you that cares too much, and him that's never cared enough. It’s you who has always been just a little too much. Too kind, too sensitive, too intense, too in your head, too in love. It’s always been you. You, you, you.
 He’s about to tell Jimin that, vehemently deny what he just said, but Jeongguk doesn’t get a chance to because there’s a knock on his door.
 It’s you.
 Jeongguk knows before Jimin answers the door. He knows before you sneak in despite Jimin doing his best to be a good friend and cover for him, saying that Jeongguk is out and that he’s just house sitting. 
 He knows it’s you before you stand in front of him and state, “I love you.”
 It’s so quiet after you say it, the only sound being heard is the soft video game music barely audible as is. Jeongguk’s hands grip at his controller tight, his knuckles going white, the ink of his tattoos a stark contrast to the skin.
 “Okay…” Jimin murmurs, “I’m going to Tae’s, Jeongguk text me later… or something…” 
 When the door shuts, the atmosphere is heavy with tension. So many different emotions swirling in the small living room, yours and his all mixing together to create a thick concoction that makes the air hard to breathe.
 Jeongguk’s quiet for a moment longer, fingers still jumping on his controller. He can hear your ragged breathing. He glances at you briefly before looking at his game again. 
 “I know,” he responds slowly.
 In his peripheral, he can see the way you deflate, how your face drops and how your lungs exhale a doleful sigh. Dejection is clear in your stance and disappointment permeates the already noxious air.
 Jeongguk lets out a sigh of his own as his brows pinch and his eyes scrunch shut. He meant for it to sound factual, more like a statement, because he did know. He has known for a long time now. He didn’t intend for it to sound patronizing or cruel. 
 “___,” he starts, ready to apologize.
 But he’s cut off.
 “Fuck you,” you whisper, before he gets the change to explain.  
 He pauses his game and looks at you, eyes wide in disbelief. Your voice holds so much pain and resentment that he physically has to keep from recoiling. You didn’t even sound like that after the party. 
 He knows the animosity directed at him isn’t unwarranted, but that doesn’t stop his own irritation from bubbling up, dark and vile in his throat. His expression goes from one of doubt and concern to one of annoyance and discontent.
 “No, fuck you. Why the fuck are you here ___?”
 “What do you mean why the fuck am I here?” you exasperate, throwing your hands up, “You left me in the middle of the night. You disappeared, I woke up and you weren’t there.” You start off strong but taper out at the end.
 Jeongguk feels his heart break just a little, small cracks like spider veins fracture the surface when he hears the way your voice shakes, like you’re trying so hard to hold on to the anger you feel and not let the hurt, the betrayal seep through.
 It’s like whiplash with you. His emotions flipping like a switch, at the drop of a dime. It goes from him feeling irritated and mad, close to throwing you out, to him feeling bad, like he needs to coddle you, take care of you. His hands reach out for just a moment like he wants to hold you.
 “I’m sorry-”
 “Why did you leave?” you interject.
 Jeongguk’s hands drop as he fishes for the right words to say, to explain to you why he couldn’t stay. Why one more rest with you would have been too much. The love in your eyes didn’t fade at all last night, his only reprieve coming when you closed your eyes to sleep. He couldn’t be there when you woke up, only to see it again. Sleepy, calm, poignant love and adoration that is misplaced and wasted on someone like him. 
 He doesn’t mean for it to come out cold and detached but it does when he says, “It was better for you if I left.” But he can’t help it. His walls are coming up and his doors are closing. He shouldn’t have let you in in the first place, shouldn’t have let you stay so long.
 You look at him like you’re desperately trying to understand what he means, why he does the things he does. “Why would that be better for me?” you almost beg. “Why can’t you just be better for me?”
 You’re crying now, and though he aches because you ache, so fucking in tune with you at this point, something about your words makes something ugly and mean stir inside of him. But he bites it down, swallows even though he feels like he’s going to be sick. He still tries to be gentle with you, patient as he calmly says, “Baby… I can’t be what you need, this-”
 “Why can’t you?” you interrupt, voice sharp and insistent. Demanding and hurt.
 “Because I-”
 “Because you won’t try?” 
 God, you won’t stop interrupting him. He raises to his feet and his voice raises as well, frustration over taking the patience he’s tried to keep with you.
 “I did try! I’m texting you constantly about where I am, I’m not going to parties or hanging out with my friends. I hardly sleep by myself anymore! I’m always fucking with you, what more do you want from me?”
 You’re jaw drops and you feel like you’ve been slapped in the face. Months of never asking for more than he was willing to give, months of settling for what he did, and he still ended up resenting you. Blaming you for whatever it is that seems like it almost destined you both to fail. It hurts. 
 “I never asked you to do that! I never demanded anything from you. I never wanted anything you didn’t want to give. I still don’t!”
 “I did it for you! I tried for you,” he almost whines, but his tone still holds some anger. “Almost everything I do is for you. I did all of it so that this,” he gestures between the two of you, “wouldn’t hurt so bad.”
 You look at him like you cannot believe the words that came out of his mouth. A short laugh falls from your lips. It lacks the joy and warmth that usually accompanies the smiles you give him. This one is sarcastic and cold and unconvinced. “You didn’t do shit for me, Jeongguk. You’re selfish. You always have been.”
 You watch as he slumps, like you’ve figured it out.
 He’s been pacing a little as the conversation between you both escalates, but he comes to a stop a little bit in front of you, his eyes sad and searching. 
 You’re right, but you’re also so devastatingly wrong. Because didn’t you know? He indeed did do so many things for you, with you in mind. Because yes, he is selfish with you. But he never wanted to hurt you. He’s always cared in his own twisted way.
 All those nights that you wanted him to stay, but he chose not to and left you alone, were for you. Because if it hurts now, letting him go, imagine how excruciating it would be if he had stayed. Imagine how many more nights you would have to remember when you wished you could forget.
 The lack of a label was for you too. Because although they say labels don’t mean much, when you have it and it gets taken away, it’s just a reminder of what you have lost. In his mind, you couldn’t miss being in a relationship with him if you never really were.
 In hindsight, it was for him too. This hurts more than he thought it would, but you and him? It has to end, it’s gone on too long already.
 But he lets you believe what you want. He lets you think that he is the bad guy. He thinks that maybe you need to blame him, despite the flaws in yourself, in order for you to be okay. And maybe you’re not wrong. Maybe he is the bad guy. He feels like he is. 
 “I don’t know what you want me to say, ___,” he says.
 “I want you to tell me, why. Why can’t you be better for me?” you repeat. “Why didn’t you let me go? Why did you hurt me over and over and over again? Why did you waste both of our time?” You’re borderline yelling, and the tears leaking from the corners of your eyes are a perfect mix of bitter and heartbroken. “Why can’t you just love me the way you’re supposed to?”
 Jeongguk takes in the angry curve of your brow and your quivering chin. But it doesn’t hit him like it should. It doesn’t tug at his heart like it should. In that moment, he doesn’t want to make it better anymore, he doesn’t want to do anything to ease the pain that is so evidently written on your face. His emotions flip flopping once again.
 Like he’s supposed to. There’s something about that sentence, something about the way you phrase certain things that just irks him, makes his blood boil. Like you’ve idealized and romanticized things so much that you don’t realize that there is no ‘supposed to be’. 
 There is no status quo for love. 
 There’s no predetermined way for things to be or end up. 
 Things, love, life- it just doesn’t work like that. 
 It’s always been like this though, you saying something, him getting annoyed and then him tucking it away because it wasn’t really that big of a deal, because he didn’t want to hurt you by mentioning it. 
 But tucking everything away has let it build up and fester like an infection. He can’t keep the condescending venom out of his words, and once they start coming out, they won’t stop. He hates himself for it, and he’s sorry before the words even leave his lips. Because fuck, he doesn’t want to hurt you. 
 But he knows he’s going to. That maybe he has to in order for you to see what he meant, on the pier that night so long ago, when he said that you would find out what it means to be someone like him. Someone you shouldn’t have made the brightest star in your sky.
 “What? Like how you wrote it in your head?” he seethes. He waits, impatient for an answer, but all he gets is your expression going from pained to confused. “Huh?” he eggs you on, and you stutter a little before he continues, “Okay, tell me what happens next. How did you script it, ___?” 
 He takes a step closer to you and tilts his head while looking at you. You shrink in on yourself, but don’t back away. “C’mon, tell me how it goes. Fast forward- make me fall in love with you,” his voice is antagonizing and malicious. “That’s what you wanted the whole time, right? That’s how it’s supposed to be?”
 You’re taken aback as you shake your head at him, like he’s got it all wrong, like he’s lying. “I- I did try, I tried to get you to Io-”
 He cuts you off, his bottled up feelings spilling out. “No, you didn’t. You wrote a fucking story in your head and made it your mission to bring it to life through you and me.” 
 With harsh breaths huffing from his nose, and his chest rising and falling, he looks at you. Waiting for his words to sink in. You don’t respond, and you jump a little when sets his hands on your shoulders. His demeanor is closed off and cold. 
 “We aren’t characters that need development or whatever the fuck, and we live normal lives. We don’t live through chapters, and we don’t get happy endings. I can’t be the me you’ve created in your head.” 
 He’s whispering and his words are razor sharp, full of disgust and disdain. “I’m not a character in your story, and I’m not made of the fucking stars. I’m my own fucking person, and I will never be yours, not like that.” 
 His chest is heaving and it feels like he’s taking all the air in the room because you can’t breathe. 
 You tried so hard to separate him, both of you, from the versions of you and him that you had in your head. Ever since that lecture. But dreaming of different things, different realities, was how you dealt with it. With him being the calamitous contradiction that he is. So sweet and easy to love, yet so unattainable in the same breath. 
 In one reality, you were his, and in another he was yours. In a different one, you both were one and the same. A single star. You had hoped that that was this reality. But it seems that you were wrong. 
 “I’m sorry,” you breathe, an airy panic lacing your tone. “I know I can get lost in my head sometimes, but I didn’t mean to. I actively tried not to with you,” you tell him, clenching at his shirt, desperate for him to understand and believe you.
 His eyes stay hard though, as he looks down his nose at you. And you know you’ve lost him. The indifference in his gaze is stifling and it brings fresh tears to your eyes. It’s like he has his mind made up. You think maybe it’s been made up since he left your bed last night.
 “You should go,” he says quietly. His hands are gentle but insistent as he untangles yours from him.
 “Jeongguk, Koo- please-”
 “___, just stop! You’re making this harder. For both of us! You’re making it hurt worse- I- it was never going to work, you know that,” he tells you, his hands moving to your shoulders, pushing you away and softly as he can. He sounds desperate, like he’s trying to convince someone. You, maybe himself. 
 It’s possibly the way the light hits them, but you think you see his eyes go glassy as he says, “Please leave, ___.”
 And so you do. You’ve never asked for what he didn’t want to give. 
 You dreamt of different realities to help deal with things because in this reality, you were just visiting, and he was just passing through.
 The world doesn’t stop spinning just because you’re hurting and time doesn’t stand still or give you a moment to catch your breath. The stars still glow in the sky, they still fall to earth, and the sun still shines warm up above even though it still feels cold without him by your side. 
 The ever present, lonely, raw pain that comes from losing someone that had become such an integral part of your life is a reminder that love is no longer the soft pink you once thought it was, but the same shade of blue that stains your pillowcases. 
 When you said pain was good for your art, you didn’t mean this kind. 
 But alas, you still have to live; go. Go to the last few weeks of classes, brain on autopilot for your finals. Go through the motions of getting your cap and gown, walking the stage, getting your degree. 
 Go on as if seeing Jimin at your graduation for Taehyung doesn’t cause a sheer, acute ache in your chest when you see he came alone. No blue in sight, just blue in your heart. 
 You give Jimin the necklace resting between your collarbones because it just doesn’t go there anymore, telling him to give it back to Jeongguk. You go on and on with a sad smile about how it’s okay, about how it’s not going good yet, but going nonetheless. 
 Going eventually turns to moving. Moving across the globe for an internship. Moving to just get away from it all, moving for a fresh start. 
 You move things around your new place alone, even though help would have been nice, just so you know you can move by yourself- just be by yourself. 
 You move around the new city as if it’s your first life, awestruck by the hustle and bustle, the world so much bigger than you thought. Bigger than doe-eyes and pretty tattoos. You move somewhere where the lights take the place of the stars. You move and come to the conclusion that maybe that’s okay. 
 Going through the motions gradually turns to moving on. Sometimes it’s still a soft tender ache, a passive yearning for what was; what could have been. But it doesn’t hurt anymore.
 It’s a different font, but the sign still says the same thing. 
 You suppose some things are bound to change in the years since you last came here. 
 Coffee shops aren’t supposed to be intimidating or daunting. But Blushing Brews is exactly that. You pause with your hand raised, the door handle just within reach. You’ve been home a couple times since you moved abroad, but you’ve never come back here.
 You know it’s silly, and a bit irrational. That the likelihood of running into someone you know in the same place you met them is slim to none. Taehyung and Jimin moved away, still in the motherland, but away. Yoongi is still in town, but most likely busy with work. 
 It’s not like they are the ones you’re worried about though.
 You don’t know exactly where Jeongguk is, but you know he’s doing well. At least since the last time you checked. You don’t lurk as often these days, if at all. Don’t feel the need to. But when you first moved you checked a lot. Of course you did.
 He kind of dropped off the map after you left. He was never big on social media to begin with, but his presence was non existent for a couple months. Until his work accounts started popping up. His pages are filled with his artwork, his tattoos. Never him though, nothing personal, only professional. He’s quite successful, has built a big name for himself. 
 You haven’t seen much of him in years. Only the occasional picture of him on Jimin’s accounts. But even those are few and far between. People get older, life gets busy. It’s probably been a year plus some since he’s popped up on one of your feeds.
 So it’s likely he’s not here. He wasn’t the type to stay in one place for too long.
 When you walk in it’s like a tsunami of nostalgia. It knocks the wind out of you and you have to pause to catch your breath.
 It’s renovated, almost nothing the same, but the counter is right where it was before and so is the table you used to sit at. Right by the window. It’s busy inside, but your spot is empty, almost like you were supposed to come in, take a rest. Catch your breath.
 The smell of coffee is familiar and the chatter of people around you is comforting in a strange way. You kind of feel like you’re in a fishbowl, watching the outside from within, the voices muted because your ears are filled with water.
 You jump when you feel a tap on your shoulder and you hold your breath when you turn around.
 “Miss, are you going to order?”
 You exhale, loud and let out a shaky laugh telling the person to go ahead. It’s not going to happen. Life doesn’t work like that.
 The boy behind the counter is sweet, looks about the age you were when you would come here just a handful years ago. He tells you the specials with a happy grin, asks if you’re okay paying extra for the oat milk in your iced latte.
 Being sat at the table is weird at first. A rush of memories whirling through your head like a vintage film reel. Too fast to decipher, too loud to discern. But eventually your mind quiets, the memories slow, and the atmosphere becomes a bit more pleasant and a little less stifling. 
 You take out your ipad, your initial intention being working here, but you open an ebook you haven’t touched in a while. A fantasy novel. One with an intricate little world to get lost in, complex characters to fall in love with, and some to grow to despise. You don’t daydream often anymore, but once in a while, it’s okay to give in.
 Typically when you get invested, it’s hard to get your attention. The world could be ending around you but as long as the world you were reading about still existed? It was like nothing else mattered. 
 So when you hear a loud laugh cut through the reading haze you safely surround yourself in, you freeze. The hairs on your arms stand up, and you close your eyes tightly before slowly scanning the cafe. 
 You scold yourself for the way your heart sinks when your search comes up empty. With a shake of your head and a sip of your coffee, you get back to your book. You started about mid-way through when you first got here, and now only have about a quarter left. You must have been here for a while. You’ll leave when you finish this chapter.
 The coffee being placed on the table is what you see first.
 “Oh, I didn’t order th-”
 “Do you still drink macchiatos?”
 God it’s cruel. 
 It’s cruel, the way the world goes pink again, the way that everything feels like is aligning, like things have finally fallen into place. Like you can see clearer than you have in years, like you can breathe easier than you have since you left. Like everything that happened before only happened to lead you right to this exact moment.
 It’s cruel because that’s not the way things work.
 Since you’ve been away, you’ve grown up and realized that stars are just stars and that people are just people. Creatures of habit and selfish by nature. You still believe in love and in endings that are happy but you’re not naive anymore. You don’t believe in fate, or the little lights in the sky, or in could be’s like you used to. 
 But that doesn’t stop the tiny gasp you let out when you see him. It doesn’t stop your eyes from lighting up and it doesn’t stop your heart from glowing pink in your chest, just like it used to.
 It’s not supposed to feel like this. It’s been years and you’ve moved on. His gaze isn’t supposed to feel like a kiss and his smile isn’t supposed to feel like coming home. When you take his insistent coffee from his hand and your fingers brush, it’s not supposed to still burn. The flame was supposed to go out.
 “What are you doing here?” you ask, eyes not leaving him as he takes it upon himself to sit across from you.
 His hair is brown again, unlike the blue it was when you left his apartment the last time you saw him, but it’s still long. His arm is even more full of ink, and he’s still the prettiest thing you have ever seen.
 Jeongguk laughs lightly, a twinge of uncomfort lacing it. “I had to drop stuff off, the head forgot to order sugar, but she’s out of town right now.” 
 Your brows raise. “And you’re next in command?” You try to make it a joke, but small talk after years is always a bit stiff. 
 He nods. “Yeah, well I kind of own it.”
 “Kind of?” you ask, leaning forward on your elbows.
 He goes tense, and he back tracks.
 “Well kind of because  I-” he stutters and then looks at you like he wishes he didn’t say anything.
 His panicked face has always been funny. His wide eyes and his mouth that always seems to be open a little bit. Brows turned up with misplaced worry. You smile instinctively.
 It’s always been so easy.
 “You what?” you press, tone soft and inquisitive. It’s a bit awkward, because of course it is. Time didn’t stop and you both aren’t the same as you were back then, but there’s still something. You don’t let yourself think about it. 
 He looks at you, searches your face before his lips pull down in a deep frown. He sighs and rubs a hand on the back of his neck. “I… My wife. She owns it.”
 God it’s so cruel.
 Your face falls before you can stop it. You know because his mirrors yours.
 “Y-you’re married?” It sounds shocked and tinted with unjustified betrayal, even to your own ears, so when Jeongguk shrinks in on himself it's no surprise to you.
 The betrayal is unwarranted because humans are selfish and it’s not like you stayed single this whole time. But it’s only been a small amount of years, you’re both still so young, and he’s never wanted that. Commitment, the loss of freedom, the stability, predictability.
 Or maybe, you realize, he just never wanted it with you.
 When all he does is nod, you ask as gently as you can, as innocently as possible, to not come off as if you’re prying even though you know you are. “Do I know her?”
 He nods again looking down. It’s a few long moments before he clears his throat and speaks up. His hands are folded on the table, fidgeting nervously. The band on the ring finger is glaringly obvious now, like it’s mocking you. “Do you remember Young-Mi? She’s Dae Jung’s niece?”
 If your heart could sink further than the ground it’s already sunk to, it would have. Young-Mi. The girl that took his place at the register when he started his full time tattoo work. She was sweet, and apparently the owner’s niece, but she always charged for the oat milk.
 He met her in the same place that he met you. The coffee shop is no longer yours and his, but theirs. The memories he made with you here, have probably been replaced, forgotten, to make room for his and hers. 
 The kisses that you stole with him, unknowingly in front of her while she was behind the counter and the soft touches and sweet words and the way you would sneakily lick the foam off of his upper lip- it’s all just dirtied backwash now and it’s so sick. Gut churning enough for the coffee in your belly to want to come back up. You swallow it down.
 “When?” you whisper.
 “The Fall.”
 You try to muster up a smile, try to get yourself together because fuck, you’re supposed to be over this, over him. “Because that’s your favorite season?”
 It hurts in a way you can’t explain when he replies, “Ours” and doesn’t mean you and him.
 The thing about idealizations concerning real life relations is that they are a recipe for disaster. To idealize something is to regard it as perfect and better than it is in reality. When you do that with relationships, you’re setting it up to fail. That’s always been your mistake.
 You haven’t idealized or romanticized him in a long time, and you haven’t been in a relationship with him, ever technically, but it hurts like you have. The sting is sharp and piercing, different than any you’ve felt before in regards to him.
 Jeongguk was cynical at that party so long ago. The one with the stained sofa. It was a different conversation technically. That one about soulmates, this one about idealizations, but similar enough in the way that they both end in pain and regret. And he was right, to be cynical, and a harsh realist. It’s ironic how the universe works things out. 
 You look down and smile to yourself, a willful expression to urge the tears away. When you look up, you keep the smile pasted, making it bigger in fact. You nod softly and say, “I’m so happy for you, Jeongguk.”
 He looks like he’s sorry, a little confused but he nods. “We just got a house?”
 It sounds like a question, like he’s grasping at straws to keep the conversation going but has no clue how to change the subject.
 You laugh a little. For someone who never wanted to settle down, he never really strayed very far.
 “Me too. I just moved back. I live alone though.”
 He looks taken aback by the news. Brows pinched more aggressively than before, but still confused. “You’re back? For good?”
 You shift in your seat and nod.
 “Did you tell anyone? Tae or Jimin? Yoongi?”
 You shake your head, you sound hesitant, the tone he’s taking with you making you a little unsure. “I um- I wanted it to be a surprise for my parents. The only person that knew was my sister because she let me stay with her while I got the house together.”
 Jeongguk’s head has started to shake, small little sways like he doesn’t believe you. “I- It’s been years. I didn’t think you were coming back… I didn’t know.”
 Doe-eyes aren’t supposed to be forlorn, and they aren’t supposed to carry sadness. But the ones looking back at you do. Your brows furrow and you frown, ready to ask what he's talking about when he speaks again.
 “I waited for you. For years I was waiting-”
 You shake your head like you didn’t hear him right, backing your chair up some to put space between you. “You what? I- Jeongguk. You got married.” You say it like you’re reminding him.
 He grimaces, and sighs like he’s frustrated. “Yes. We were engaged for forever but I never agreed to a date until 4 months ago because all the time before that I was hoping-” 
 Cruel, cruel, cruel. 
 This can’t be happening. 
 Your mouth opens and closes, trying to find the words to say. But what is there to say? 
 “I miss you, ___.”
 You freeze and lock eyes with him. You shake your head, a shocked laugh sputtering past your lips. “Jeongguk, don’t.”
 He doesn’t listen.
 “I’ve thought about you every day-”
 “Jeongguk-” You grip the table and shut your eyes like if you will him away, this nightmare will stop. 
 He leans forward, eager declarations spilling from his mouth. But you don’t hear them because as soon as you look at him again, a little flower falls out of his shirt. Your mouth parts and your face looks like you’re in pain because you are. Your eyes bounce between the cherry blossom and his face like you can’t believe it.
 Catching on, he grips the necklace. “I was going to go back to you. Oh my god, ___ I swear I was.” 
 He waits for you to respond but you don’t. You feel like the room is closing in on itself. 
 “But Jimin gave this back to me and said you were leaving the country and that you were excited for a new start and that you were so close to being okay again and getting better I-” he deflates some as he sits back in his chair “-I couldn’t take that away from you. I couldn’t be selfish with you again.”
 “Please stop,” you whisper.
 “I never take it off because it reminds me of you. This spot in the shop has never been without a table because it was yours, and it reminds me of you.” He points to the little stars on his forearm. “I never covered it up because it reminds me of you.”
 He’s whispering now, and your tone matches his. “You’re married. You got married.”
 He shakes his head. “It’s not the same with her, it’s never felt the same. She doesn’t make me feel the way you did. The way you do.”
 “Stop talking.”
 “How was I supposed to know it was you? When I didn’t even believe in love back then?” He sounds desperate, close to tears almost.
 You’ve always thought the cruelest thing that could happen to someone was meeting the right person at the wrong time. You smile at him, soft and gentle.
 “You didn’t have to know, you just had to try.” 
 Jeongguk sees the way your eyes are dimming and how you’re shutting him out and he panics, shakes his head vehemently at you. You gasp when he clutches at your hands, when you start to gather your things. 
 “No, no, no-” he chants quietly. “This is so fucked up. Everything is so fucked up,” he squeezes your hands, jostles them some. “You still feel it, I know you still feel it too.”
 You look at him, and you see the way he means it. It’s too late, but finally. He feels the same way you do. 
 “I do feel it,” you whisper, heart heavy in your chest, “but we can’t Jeongguk, you-”
 “Do you still have your tattoo?” he cuts you off.
 You nod hesitantly. How could you ever cover it up? Erase him?
 His head hangs, and the hands that are still clutching yours squeeze tightly before coming to his hair. He rests his head in his palms for a few moments. When he looks at you again, it’s like he worked through something quietly with himself.
 He holds eye contact with you when he asks, “Can I see it again? One more time, at least?”
 You suck in a sharp breath. You know what he’s asking.
 Since you’ve been away, you’ve grown up and realized that stars are just stars and that people are just people. Creatures of habit and selfish by nature. Jeongguk is no exception to that, and maybe you haven’t changed as much as you thought.
oc homewrecker ?? LMAO but ok if you read the whole thing i am in LOVE with you (even if you hate me for the ending lol) and am so grateful for you. i can’t think of anything else to say bc i am so nervous lol but anyway if you liked it pls pls pls do all the things: like, reblog, comment, share, send an ask i am DYING to know what u thought!! thank u so so much for reading!
oh also... team jk or team oc ?
jreampie scene in jimin’s room dedicated to luna <3
ALSO!! this is my submission for the “spring will come” event run by @bangtanarmynet
prompt: “Don’t look at me like that.” “Like what?” “Like you still love me.” *edit* the open ending of this fic is intentional, so i unfortunately do not have plans for a part 2. one of the main points in the fic is that there’s no finite, or predetermined way for things to be. i tried to show this with how i finished the story. i hope u understand, and still love the work the same, tysm for reading <3
6K notes · View notes
ppersonna · a year ago
make me - myg | m
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strawberries on a summer evenin'. baby, you're the end of June. i want your belly and that summer feelin', getting washed away in you - watermelon sugar, harry styles
↳ summary- an ordinary sleepover with your best friend turns into anything but ordinary, thanks to your ridiculously loud neighbors above you.
↳ rating- explicit / 18+ / nc17
↳ word count- 4.4k
↳ pairing- yoongi x reader
↳ genre-  pwp lol, smut, fluff, somehow the dirtiest fluff i have ever written bc there’s some depraved shit in here
↳ warnings- penetrative sex, oral sex (m/f receiving), unprotected sex (dont...pls), dirty talk, rough sex, degrading talk, dom/sub undertones, bratty backtalk
↳ a/n- yooooo dawg this... was fun.  i hope you enjoy!!  ive been in my yoongi feels lately uwu. feel free to comment, message, dm, whatever u want babes.  i love you!
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Yoongi thinks if he has to hear your upstairs neighbors fuck for another minute longer he might actually go crazy.
It’s been hours now.  The girl is screaming like a feral cat and the man is doing a terrible impression of a porn star, trying his best to talk dirty but really just calling the howling banshee awful names.  
If only his dick would be as annoyed as his brain.
He knows you’re awake next to him too.  The steady rise and fall of your breathing changed when the bad porn above you began—now it’s faint and too quick to indicate anything but your wakefulness.
“Ohhhhh oppa!” The girl above you screams.
It’s finally what breaks down the silence in your bedroom.  At her wanton sound, you and Yoongi are unable to stop yourselves from bursting into laughter.
Yoongi’s stomach hurts from laughing so hard.  Tears form at the corners of his eyes as you make the bed rumble from the force of your combined laughter.
“God, do they think that sounds hot?” You finally ask after settling down to mere giggles.
Yoongi shrugs and wipes away his tears. “Apparently.  He must like the way she sounds like a dying cat.”
His comment sends you into a spiral of laughter again, and you’re clinging to your chest as it heaves with exertion.
Yoongi is your best friend for a reason.  No one makes you laugh as hard as he does.  No one understands you the way he seems to be able to—it’s almost intuitive the way he can understand your feelings.  
You live for your weekly sleepovers.  You drink wine, watch terrible horror films, gossip about your other friend’s love lives, and fall asleep in your bed together.  It’s never been anything but blissful.
Until recently…
When your heart decided it would beat too fast around him.  When your brain decided to spin and weave stories of romance with your best friend.
Now, you can’t hardly think about anything else around the dirty blonde haired boy.  It’s overwhelming to all of your senses when you see him, feel him near you.  You want to kiss him, to love him, to tear his clothing off.
Which makes lying in your full size bed while the neighbors above you fuck and attempt to act out their wildest fantasies—badly—so much harder than usual.
“God,” Yoongi sighs and tugs the blanket up to his chin. “Does she even like it or do you think she’s faking it?”
You wrinkle your nose in disgust. “Ugh, I know I wouldn’t be into it.”
“You don’t like dirty talk?” He teases with a poke to your stomach.  It makes an eruption of nerves go off in your chest.
“Oh, no I do. But that’s not dirty talk,” you shrug. “He’s just being mean. There’s no sensuality underneath it.”
He hums and lays back down to stare at the ceiling.
“Give me an example,” he asks of you. It makes your cheeks flush red and you’re thankful for the darkness in your room to provide you cover.
“Um, well,” you cough awkwardly. “He’s saying shit like ‘you fuck anything don’t you?’ which, maybe she’s into degradation, but I’m not. Not that extreme.”  Your explanation sounds lame, but you continue anyway. “I prefer to hear things like ‘this slutty little pussy belongs to me’.  Possessive and hot at the same time without being too...uhh...hurtful.”
Yoongi feels his cock rise with piquing interest. There’s a nagging guilt about thinking of his best friend this way, and a tinge of jealousy thinking someone who isn’t him has said that to you.
He feels his throat dry up, and you wring your hands nervously on the blanket. The moaning above you doesn’t stop, and you can hear the telltale sound of flesh slapping on flesh, indicating they’ve commenced into penetration and it makes your body throb with annoyance, and with want.
There’s moments when a louder slap echoes through the room—it’s clear the man is slapping her somewhere—and she whines desperately.  Your core starts building that familiar heat, a slickness gathering you can’t stop. You press your thighs together tight and squirm as subtly as you can. You pray Yoongi doesn’t notice.  
Yoongi, however, does notice.  He breathes a sigh of relief internally knowing he’s not the only being affected by the commotion above. But he doesn’t understand the meaning behind it. For all he knows, you’re just turned on because—well, because it’s sex and it’s loud and who wouldn’t be a little turned on? You’re likely not at all aroused by him, or the thought of him. Right?
Another slap echoes through the room and you can tell by the way the girl gasps that her partner slapped her in the face.
“Damn,” you shiver.  Yoongi turns to peek at you through the darkness.
“You into that?” He asks curiously. “Face slapping?”
It’s hard to swallow for a moment—it feels like you’re trying to down a boulder.
“Uh, yeah,” you whisper. “Yeah, I like pain.”
Yoongi doesn’t reply and it makes you fear you’ve overstepped the line. You’ve gone too far off the ‘best friend’ track and the whole train is about to de-rail.
You’re opening your mouth to apologize for taking it too far when Yoongi finally speaks.
“Fuck it,” he sighs. “You want to fuck louder and establish dominance?”
The world stops turning.  You’re sure that gravity doesn’t exist anymore and the theory of relativity has been proven wrong.
Did Min mother fucking Yoongi, your best friend of over twenty years, just offer to have sex with you to...establish dominance over the neighbors above you attempting to make a cheap porn?
He’s looking at you normally, but there’s a glimmer in his eye that says more.  It says he wants you.  Your stomach twists in on itself.  There’s no way, there is no actual plausible way that the man beside you feels the same way about you as you do.
“You want to have sex with me?”
Yoongi’s cheeks turn pink and he looks away for a minute.
“I also want to date you,” he murmurs.  
If you thought the world ended before, you’re sure this is the fiery explosion that brings a new earth into life with a bang.
The noises from upstairs interrupt the romantic moment with a scream, a guttural howl from the man, and then muffled whispers and sighs.
“What do you say we keep them up all night too?” His mouth turns to a smirk as he awaits your reply.
“Yeah,” you nod as you throw the blankets off you.  “Fuck those guys, lets show them what real kinky sex looks like.”
Yoongi’s eyes turn feral as he works his eyesight down your body.  Your normal sleepwear outfit of a tank top and shorts looks like lingerie to him now and he’s salivating at the way he can see the curve of your breasts, and the press of your hard nipples against the fabric.
You’re throwing yourself onto Yoongi’s body in an instant, pinning him down to the bed and pressing your lips to his.  You waste no time in waiting for him now that you know—now that you’ve heard with your two ears that Min Yoongi not only wants to fuck you, but date you as well.   No use wasting any more time—the time for action is now.
The kiss is hot and Yoongi’s hands falter for a moment in surprise before he’s coming to his senses and tugging at your tank top quickly to pull it off your body.  His hands feel hot on the bare skin of your back, rubbing at your spine and up to your shoulders.  It makes you shiver, and you slide your tongue into his mouth to explore the heat inside.  
His hands navigate forward to cup your breasts, fingers toying with your nipples—pinching and pulling and rolling between the pads of his fingers.  It has you keening into his touch and grinding down on his basketball-shorts-covered cock. 
Yoongi pulls away from you and pulls at a nipple harshly, which makes you gasp out loud.
“It’s real cute how you think you’re in charge right now,” he points out.  “Real fucking cute.  It’s gonna make me almost feel bad for punishing you.”
You’re sure your soul is going to leave your body at hearing your best friend’s sexy baritone voice verbalize your dirtiest fantasies.  If this is how you react now…, may God have mercy on your poor little pussy.
Yoongi thinks he’s possibly never been harder than he is right now.  His best friend, best girl, is sitting atop his boner and he’s twisting your pretty nipples so hard they’ll surely turn purple soon.  You sound so sweet when you whine, and you’re starting to whine louder as he continues the pressure on your tits.
“You thought you could take control, didn’t you?” He asks, slipping further and further into the dominant act.  He loves this, thrives off it.  He didn’t think you’d ever be into it—none of the girls he’s dated before have—and he’s thrilled he doesn’t have to hide this depraved part of himself.
You nod and bite your lip, wincing as he tugs once more on a nipple before letting go.
“Cute,” he sighs.  “But wrong.”
In an instant, he flips you two over and he feels his heart and cock swell at the sight of your sweet eyes widening at the quick change.  
“This feels better, don’t you think?” He asks.  You nod and he shakes his head.  “Answer me, baby doll.  You’re already about to get punished.  You wouldn’t want to make me not let you cum, would you?”
The fear in your eyes increases and you clear your throat to talk.
“No sir, I don’t want that.”  
Yoongi nearly moans.  Hearing you call him sir, being underneath him—it’s his wet dreams come to life.
“Then tell me,” he instructs. “Tell me you need me in charge.”
You’re dying to be a brat, really wanting to pull Yoongi completely out of his shell, show him the full extent of what he can do to you.  Plus, you really wanna give your neighbors a show—a taste of their own medicine, don’t you?
“What if I don’t want to?” You tease.
Yoongi’s grin turns wider and his eyes sparkle with knowing. He’s a through and through brat-tamer, and by the end of the night you’ll be crying for forgiveness.
“Little tease,” he growls as he leans down to latch his mouth on your abused nipple.  
You gasp out loud, and it turns into desperate mewling as his teeth nibble and pull.  You’ll be bruised up for days, surely.  He sucks hard, pulls on it roughly and bites with meaning. You just know your panties are completely soaked.
“Talking back to me, huh? You think that’s going to get you where you want to go tonight, little girl?”
He turns his attention to your other nipple, eyes peering into yours as you struggle to answer with the sizzle of pain in your breast.
“What are you gonna do about it?” You send back with a shake of your hips under him.
The growl he delivers around your nipple and the quick bite makes you yelp.
“I think I should shut that loud mouth of yours up.”
You smile in response and his fingers tug down your shorts.  You lift your hips and allow him to pull the clothing off and you’re left in your slicked up panties.
“Oh yeah?” You retort.  “You gonna shut me up with that fat cock?”
Yoongi visibly shivers. His spine tingles deliciously for minutes after the hair on his neck settles.  He’s dreamed of you like this, under him and begging to be put in your place.  And now, here you are.  And he can’t wait to make it a reality.  He’s even forgotten about the loud neighbors.  It’s now just all about you.
“I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Dirty little slut so horny to get her mouth on my cock.”
Yoongi allows a finger to trail down your clothed slit, and he outwardly groans at how wet you are.  You’re unable to hold back your whimpers of need—he’s so close to where you need him most and where you’ve dreamed of having him.
“You talk a big game for someone who’s drenched before I’ve even done anything,” Yoongi says with a smirk.
Your legs tremble as he pulls your panties to the side to expose your drenched folds. He dips a finger in and touches your clit. You moan in unison—he’s captivated by the heat and slick, you’re feeling air escape your lungs with every swirl of his finger.
“Y-Yoongi,” you whine.  He tsks and pulls his finger out.
“That’s not my name right now.” His hands start to slide your panties down and your stomach leaps with excitement.
“Sir, please.”
“Now you want to be my good girl?” He asks with a chuckle. “Where’s my mouthy little brat who wants my cock to shut her up?”
He leans back on his heels and watches you eye him. You’re nearly bursting at the seams. You’re naked while he remains completely clothed and while you’d normally feel exposed and vulnerable, all you feel is white hot heat. You’re burning for Yoongi, for him to do what you’ve dreamt he could do.
“Why don’t you show me what that sweet mouth can do?”  
He maneuvers to stand at the side of the bed, dick straining against the mesh of his shorts. He waits for you to sit up, which you wordlessly obey.  His cock is now eye level with you, and your mouth feels dry. You’ve dreamt about this dick, about what it looks like and how it would feel in your hand, inside you. The fact that you’re here now, about to find out all your secret fantasies is heady.
Your hand rubs at the straining material, over the thickness of his cock. He feels big, and you give it a squeeze which makes him hiss.
“Still being a tease,” he sighs with faux disappointment. “You’re in a precarious position to be such a little cocktease.  Might need to fuck that right out of you.”
It makes you whimper—his direct threats sounding like smooth promises going straight to your core.
“I’d like to see you try.”
Yoongi growls and grabs a bit of your hair, tugging your head back to look at him in the eyes.
“I think you should shut this fucking mouth up.”  His voice is dark, and his eyes glow with lust.
A grin pulls over your face as you gaze sweetly up at him—his hand still gripped tight in your hair.
“Make me.”
Yoongi is silent for a moment as he stares at you in wonder—his beautiful girl, so rebellious and yet so willing to comply.
“I fucking love you, you little fucking slut.”
Yoongi forces his shorts down and grips your chin, holding it hard in his hand.
“Now choke on my fucking cock.”
You open your mouth complacently and he wastes no time in shoving his entire length down your throat mercilessly.  
It’s hot. It feels like fucking heaven.  Your lips wrap around him and suction and he can feel your gag reflex straining against his tip at the back of your throat.  Yoongi thinks his entire spine is tingling with desire for you and the way you take his cock so well has his toes curling.
You didn’t even get to have a good look at Yoongi’s cock before it was shoved into your throat, but now that it’s there you don’t even need to see it to knows he is fucking thick and long. It stretches your mouth and you know your pussy will be taken to its limit when he finally buries himself inside you where he rightfully belongs.
“Can’t talk back now, can you?” He teases as he begins to fuck your throat. “Mmmm shit—, you suck my cock so fucking good.”
His words are nothing but encouragement for you and you fight back the growing discomfort in your throat and allow him to use it as he pleases.  Tears form in your eyes and slip down your face at the exertion and you soon feel his balls slap at your chin.  You’ve only fantasized of being used like this by Yoongi, and now it’s actually fucking happening.  You’ll be damned if you don’t give him the suck of a lifetime.
Yoongi thinks he’s staring into heaven as he fucks your tight mouth and watches as your eyes fill with tears.  They leak out and he knows you’re loving this just as much as he is by the palpable enthusiasm you accept his cock with.
“Look at my little brat,” he coos mockingly. “Not so big and brave now, are you?  Not with daddy’s cock wrecking your hot mouth.”
He picks up the pace and the sounds turn disgustingly lewd.  It’s a wet, slurping sound as Yoongi forces his cock in and out of your drooling mouth.  Saliva drips onto the bed below you as you take him all, never given a chance to breathe or swallow.  Yoongi takes and you selflessly give. You’d allow the man to split you in half—and you’re actively hoping he does just that tonight.
Suddenly, Yoongi is pulling out of your mouth and leaving you panting and keening for more. He grips his cock with a fist.  He strokes himself roughly and looks down at you.
“Gonna cum, baby girl. Fucking beg for it.”
Your hands grip at his thighs and you’re breathing hard to catch up on the oxygen you were denied.  But it doesn’t stop you from doing exactly as he orders.
“Please, daddy. Please cum on my face.  Let me taste your cum, I want to know what you taste like.  Cum on me.  Mark me, daddy.”
Yoongi whines and increases the speed of his pumps. His mouth falls open as he watches you pout so sweetly and wait so eagerly for his seed on your face. He wants to see your entire body covered in his cum and he plans on ensuring that happens sooner rather than later.
“My eager little bitch. Wants her daddy to mark his territory.”
You nod, tongue sticking out and wagging like a dog for his cum.
“Please, daddy.  Make me messy.”
It seems to be the secret password to Yoongi’s climax. Your desperation, your eager position, the way you beg so sweetly.  It sends him right over the edge and he cries out as his cock pulses white stripes over your pretty face.  
He wishes he could take a picture of the way his cum covers your face.  He’d make it his background photo so he could see it every day, show everyone around him the gorgeous little whore he gets to cum on every night.
“Shit, babygirl,” he groans as he attempts to catch his breath.  “Look at you.”
You smile as your tongue retreats into your mouth and you savor the drops that landed on your tongue.  Your eyes close in bliss as you enjoy the flavor, noting it tastes salty and sweet and you can’t wait to reacquaint yourself with the taste over and over again.
“Lay back,” he orders as he pushes his shorts all the way off.  
In his haste to fuck your throat, he only pushed them halfway.  He slips out of them and pulls his shirt off before he joins you on the bed.
“Let me drink this cunt.”
You whimper in agreement as you press your back in to the pillows and spread open your legs.
“Please, daddy.”
He grins as he lowers himself to lie between your legs.  He blows on it, cool air pushing over your folds chilling you.
“Fuck,” he sighs.  “Greedy little cunt wants it all, hm?”
“Yes, daddy.”
“So compliant for me now,” he whispers as he kisses your thighs. “I like it when you behave.”
He kisses in further, and soon he’s using his fingers to spread apart the folds and pressing the flat of his tongue to your clit and laving it over the aching nub.
“Holy shit,” he groans as he comes up and sucks his tongue back into his mouth.  “Sweetest little pussy.”
You can’t reply, the capability to speak has left you now.  He buries his face back into your cunt and gets to work.  His tongue starts flicking against the bundle of nerves and then dips down to fuck into your channel.  He works his tongue around you and your back arches off the bed and your heels dig into the mattress.  You seek purchase in his hair with your hands, digits gripping at the blonde locks between your thighs.  
Yoongi groans and moans into your cunt, and soon he slips two fingers in to fuck you roughly.
He pulls his lips away and licks his tongue over them to collect the slick that lingers.  His fingers maintain a quick pace and he drinks in the sight of you gasping at the stretch.
“Yeah, look at you take my fucking fingers.  Such a wanton little whore for me.”
He slides another finger in to join, then another, and it makes your cries echo loudly around the room.  He suddenly remembers the neighbors above you and smirks.  He pulls his hands from you, making you keen with desire and desperately beg for more.
“Daddy! Please, I need..” you gasp. “Need you!”
He pulls himself up to join your hips together and rolls his them against each other.  His cock rubs against your soaked pussy and he bites his lip at the feel of it getting slicked up.
“I want you to be nice and loud for me, baby girl,” he demands sweetly in your ear as he licks the shell.  He notes your shiver and smirks, before kissing your ear lightly.  “Tell those mother fuckers upstairs who’s going to take you to Hong Kong.”
“Yes, daddy,” you agree.  
It only takes the consent to leave your lips for Yoongi to spear his cock into you.  He’s not slow or gentle, he pushes it into the hilt immediately.
Yoongi meant to start a pace, to begin fucking into you mercilessly, but he’s frozen inside your tight heat.  You feel so good, so fucking tight and warm and wet for him.  It’s better than heaven, and surely better than any pussy he’s been inside before.  Maybe it’s because it’s you, and no one else.
“Fuck!” He gasps. “Holy shit I could cum right now.”
You whine and move your hips desperately.
“Fuck me daddy! Fuck me hard, please!  Use me like your little cock sleeve.”
Yoongi bites his lip and feels his cock pulse.
“Shit, you’ve got a dirty fucking mouth,” he grits. “Let’s see if you’ve got a dirty little pussy too.”
He sets a pace, desperately wills his cock not to cum yet.  He wants to fuck you senseless, until your eyes roll back in your head.  He’s gonna make sure you get off on his cock before he comes close to his end.
Yoongi grips your chin again, like he did at the beginning as he fucks into you roughly.
“Look at you take my fucking cock so deep,” he bites out.  “Your cunt is so fucking desperate for my fat cock, isn’t it? You need me to fuck some discipline into you.”
You’re nearly screaming now at the force of his thrusts.  He’s pushing all the way into you with each push and his balls smack against your ass deliciously.  You’re babbling, words unable to make sense as he fucks all the brain cells out of you.
“Dumb little cock slut,” he whispers as he leans down to suck a nipple into his mouth and bite at it before releasing it  “Little brat turns into a perfect little fuck hole for me, so fucking good for me.”
“Yes, y-y-yes baby! S-so close!”  
Yoongi’s had you near the verge since his oral, and now with his punishing pace and power in his driving hips, you’re hovering over the edge.
His hand drops down to rub at your clit, a circular motion that has you gasping and screaming his name.
“That’s fucking right,” he breathes. “Tell them, baby.  Tell them who’s got the best fucking cock.  Tell them who fills this pussy up so well.”
You’re eager to comply.
“You, daddy!  Fuck!  You feel so fucking thick in me.  I need your cum, please, please.  Cum on me.”
Yoongi feels his balls tighten impossibly--he knows he’s seconds away from an explosive orgasm.
“Cum on my cock, baby girl.  Let me feel you cream my fucking cock.  Wanna see you all over this fat dick.”
His free hand tugs at a nipple and pulls it punishingly, tugging it so far it pulls the skin around it.  Your screams light up the room, echoing and bouncing off the walls and surely traveling up to your neighbors bedroom.
“Yoongi! Fuck! I’m cumming!” You warn, a millisecond before your world crashes around you.  
Your cunt squeezes his cock so tightly that it causes his hips to stutter in their pace.  It grips him tight, angry like a squeezed fist and Yoongi feels the air get sucked out of his lungs as his climax follows directly after yours.  He didn’t even have a chance to pull out--he’s emptying his load into your womb and whining at the feeling of your pulsating walls milking every single drop greedily.
It’s several minutes later that you’re both caught up to normal breathing and resting beside each other on the bed.  The room is silent, save for little pants and breaths, and Yoongi reaches over to lace his fingers into yours and hold your hand tightly.
“You wanna date me?” He asks sweetly, as if his cum isn’t dripping out of your cunt as he speaks.  
It makes you laugh.  It’s so classically Yoongi that you can’t help but to laugh.  
“Yes, daddy, I want to date you.  I want to date you every single day.”
He pulls you into his embrace and kisses at your forehead.
“Maybe we should send your neighbors some flowers for getting us together,” he teases.
As if on cue, the all too familiar sound of skin slapping against skin and screeching moans comes from upstairs and plays through your apartment like an unwanted jukebox.
“God damn it, our plan backfired.” he grumbles. “I think we turned them on.”
You press your sticky, sweaty body against him and kiss at his lips.  Your hand sneaks down to his cock and grips it again, begging it to come back to life.
“Shall we try again, then?”
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5K notes · View notes
bratkook · 6 months ago
concrete king. (m) jjk
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pairing. skaterboy!jk x reader genre. fluff, smut, himbo energy word count. 16.7k ....don’t look at me warnings. sweet summer romance, blonde!jk, brief depictions of drugs (marijuana usage), alcohol, lots of making out, messy car sex, fingering, spit kink !! (duh), light tit play, playful dirty talk, protected sex, overall cute, jungkook is a big fking dork and a softie! summary. when a cute boy in a tacky hawaiian shirt lands a trick in your honor theres no way you could you ever say no to him note. thank you to @cutechim @jungkxook for indulging my thirsty rambles as well as @coepiteamare for beta reading this for me like an absolute angel ❣️ ily babes !! ps. @jjkxla​ come get ur mans ! (i also made a bby playlist for the fic here !)
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The California sun beats high from it’s spot in the sky, zero clouds coming between the harsh rays that bounce off the concrete and warm up Jungkook’s body in an almost uncomfortable way. He can feel the sweat accumulating on the back of his neck, leaving the blonde strands damp with moisture, ends curling up as he ruffles his hands through them. 
Jungkook has been here for a little over an hour now, currently perched on the edge of the smaller bowl as he observes Hoseok from inside, laughing as his friend pops up, bottom of his trucks grinding against the ledge before he’s gliding back down. Hoseok had just picked up skating recently; he’s used to cruising on the streets so he has the basics down, just needs Jungkook’s help when it comes to doing anything at the skatepark. The first hurdle? The frontside carve grind that he had been struggling with. 
“Smoother, right?” he calls out to his friend as he pumps himself back around to repeat it on the opposite side with the same success. He cheers briefly before gripping his deck and climbing out of the bowl, settling his ass right next to him, ignoring the slight burn from the concrete below. 
“Much,” he flips the board over in his grasp, fingers wiggling the trucks with a pleased smile. “Who knew loose trucks would be my saving grace.”
Jungkook hums in confirmation, twirling his own board above his lap. “I don’t know how the hell you were carving before. They were tight as fuck.”
“Rookie mistake,” Hoseok jokes, leaning back on his palms and letting his head hang back, face turned up to the sky with his eyes shut. 
Jungkook chuckles as he hauls himself up, fingers pulling at his shirt, his white tee sticking to his back as he flaps the bright blue printed button up around him for some air. His eyes roam the skate park, seeing who occupied what area: the bikers on the far left side, roller skaters in the middle where the half pipe was, and skate boarders to the far left where the shallow bowl and rails were. 
“Why the hell are you wearing that?” Hoseok grumbles when he opens his eyes and really takes a look at Jungkook’s bright shirt, covered in orange and yellow petals, classic hawaiian print that should only belong on middle aged men on vacation. The ridiculous shade of blue contrasts against the dark ink on his arms, thick bold tattoos in all black that are placed sporadically, almost as if he had slapped stickers onto his skin and called it a day. Like most things in life, Jungkook made it work; this hawaiian shirt however was the very rare occasion where it didn’t work. 
“It’s called fashion, asshole,” Jungkook laughs, nudging his knee against his friend’s shoulder and stumbling when Hoseok shoves him back, almost making his legs buckle underneath him. “Fuck you,” he chortles, smacking Hoseok’s head with a nice whack, jumping out of the way before he can retaliate once again. 
Just as Hoseok is about to get up, presumably to put his younger friend into a headlock, Jungkook drops into the bowl on his board, cackling the whole way down. A dorky smile is on his lips, teeth out as he looks back at his friend, legs acting on their own accord while he carves along the bowl. 
His hair flows in the wind as he picks up speed, knees bent slightly to help pump himself around with practiced ease. He feels at home whenever he’s here, muscle memory guiding him through the motions, letting him ride out of the bowl smoothly. 
Jungkook kicks off with his right foot for speed, a grin on his face as he approaches the upcoming ledge, feet wide and stable on his board. With a push up, he’s hopping onto the ledge with the nose of his board, grinding along the surface for a few seconds before hopping off, wheels clacking against the concrete as he rolls away. 
A group of kids cheer on from the sidelines as they watch, all decked out in protective gear as they stare at him with eyes that make him feel as if he had just done something monumental. He gives them a smile in thanks as he glides by them, remembering the times when he was their age and struggling to stand on his own board. 
It makes him want to show off some more, skating a little way past them to get some distance to catch some speed before eventually attempting to pull a trick after clearing the stairs that lead to the lower part of the park. 
He flips his hair back as he nears the edge of the park, right before the concrete meets the patchy grass, and before he can fully concentrate, he hears the sound of laughter. Jungkook has to blame it on his easily distracted attention span, but his ears focus on it, head turning around in search of it, bouncing off the same kids playing a few feet away before finally landing on you. 
He hops off his board now, cool trick momentarily forgotten, kicking the tail up until his fingers curl around the nose as he holds it by his side. That’s when he hears it again, confirming it actually belonged to you, sitting on the metal bench underneath the shade of a tree with a red popsicle in your hand and a wide smile on your face as your friend tells a story. 
Jungkook is definitely not blind, taking note of how attractive you are, your legs barely covered in a pair of dark blue denim shorts and out in the open due to the summer heat. If there was one thing he would always be weak for, it’s pretty girls like you with laughs as sweet as honey and smiles brighter than the sun. 
He wonders for a moment if the heat has gone to his head and he’s imagining you, like some kind of mirage you see just before you pass out because there’s no way you’re real. Hell, maybe he had attempted the cool trick and busted his head open, and you were coming to him in some coma dream. 
Your friend must sense him staring, her eyes looking at him before she’s mumbling something to you, and you’re turning around to look right at him too. You’re giving him a very clear once over, no doubt judging his shirt choice like Hoseok had, but when you don’t immediately look away, he lifts a hand up and gives you a simple wave. 
Tight, you’re real. 
A confused grin is on your lips as you wave back, briefly wondering if he was an acquaintance you had forgotten about, more so when he speaks loud enough for you to hear, his need to impress a pretty girl taking over. 
“Watch this!”
And you do, turning fully around to observe the blonde boy as he angles his board before getting a head start and hopping onto it with just enough speed to execute his trick. You watch as he crouches low on the board, pushing off the tail until it scoops up under him, front foot rotating it in time with his body in a full 360 before swiftly landing it. 
Jungkook smiles wide at landing the beta flip after having practiced it earlier in the day, wheels crunching over the cracks as he cruises on and comes to a stop right before the stairs. He holds in his cheer as he hops off his board with his shoulders pulled back in pride, only increasing when he realizes you had in fact watched him pull it off. 
“That was for you!” he shouts out, placing his fingertips to his lips to blow you a kiss, not at all phased by the look on your face. It’s a clear display of amusement mixed with confusion, your hand pointing at your chest to confirm he was talking to you. 
“Do I know you?”
That’s the golden ticket he needs, bending down to clutch his board and make his way to you. “Glad you asked,” he laughs, approaching you with that same toothy smile, blonde hair framing his face and flowing through the wind as he speeds up his pace. 
“I’m Jungkook,” he announces, coming to stop right in front of the bench and hunkering down into the spot right next to you. He takes up space comfortably, almost as if he thinks he belongs absolutely everywhere, thighs spread out and back resting along the tabletop casually as he leans onto his elbows. 
“Okay Jungkook, do I know you?” Your friend snickers at your tone, taking note of the way he smirks, hands raking through his hair as he stares at you with doe eyes that you know help him win over the ladies. 
“You do now. What’s your name?” 
There's a small moment where you have an internal battle, wondering if it would be wise to give your name out to the cute skater who had just landed a trick in your honor. It’s not until your friend gives you a look that tells you to do it that you finally respond. 
“Y/N,” you smile, bringing the red ice pop back to your lips for another taste, desperately needing it to ward off the sticky heat surrounding you. His eyes are locked onto the motion, seeing the way your lips wrap around the edge of it until suddenly, you’re biting into the slowly softening treat. 
“Oh man, you bite ice cream? I’m out,” he laughs, going to stand back up as he feigns being alarmed. Your joyous laugh fills the air once more, your palm slapping over your mouth to prevent the chunk from slipping out. “What flavor is that anyways?”
“Watermelon,” you laugh, “and don’t judge me, it’s hot.” Your words are hard to make out as you mumble while chewing, snickering when he slumps back into his spot with a wide smile. He gives you a moment as you finish up your treat, his eyes crinkled up as he stares at you with clear amusement on his sun kissed face, nodding in approval at the flavor of choice. 
“I don’t know. I came over here ‘cause I thought you were cute but you’re clearly–“ his finger circles around near his temple, the slight grimace on his face a clear indication that he was calling you crazy, and it only makes you giggle some more. 
“You think I’m cute?”
Jungkook’s jaw drops, a silent laugh leaving him as he stares at you incredulously. “I also think you’re crazy. Did that slip your mind?”
The popsicle finds its way back into your mouth as you hum in indifference, choosing to suck on it instead of biting it to save him from the absolute agony of watching. He swears he could feel his own brain rattling and teeth aching when you did it. Maybe you are crazy. 
“No, I heard cute, and the rest just got tuned out.”
He laughs fully at this, and you take a second to admire him, getting a good look at his profile as his head drops back, light strands of hair no longer obstructing your view, allowing you to see the way his nose scrunches up and his top teeth push out in an endearing way. 
Your eyes drop to his arms now, the black lines calling your attention as you admire the bold artwork covering the entire expanse of them. Each piece is relatively small, individually placed with a small gap in between the tattoos next to them instead of it being a fully connected sleeve. The one that really catches your eye is the noose tucked into his bicep, right above his elbow with the words 'I'll be cool when I’m dead’ lined around it in all caps. It’s an interesting style that somehow suits him. 
“Alright,” he scoots closer to you smoothly, turning to fully stare at you with his head tilted slightly. “Yeah, you’re cute, for a girl who bites ice cream.”
He pauses for another second as you pull out the popsicle, eyes looking at him with a sly smile on your red coated lips. it doesn’t prepare him for the low blow you’re about to deliver. “You talk a lot of shit for a guy wearing a hawaiian shirt.”
His hand clutches over his chest, fingers gripping onto the fabric of his white tee as he hunches over and winces at the second jab to his fashion sense. “Damn, no need for the personal attack. What brings you to this beautiful park?”
Normally he’d assume you were here to skate, or to just stare at the boys since that’s what a lot of girls did to pass time, but you were lacking in gear and anything that had wheels. You also didn’t seem interested in anything going on in the park. 
This park was on the slightly shittier side of town, covered in graffiti and barely held together by the people who inhabited it, everyone coming together to fix anything that broke in an effort to keep it alive. It was a nice little community, and without it, this place would’ve become a run down skeleton of what it is now. 
Whatever was beyond the concrete, though, was left to its own methods of survival. Grass patchy and half dead, too many crazed squirrels that didn’t fear humans, and the occasional run in with an aggressive stranger made people who weren’t here to ride stay far away. 
You know this: it’s the main reason you never come here, especially when the weather is as nasty as it is today. 
The red treat is now pointed at your friend as you speak. “Her boyfriend is over there by the big bowl. I’m just here to keep her company and help ward off the squirrels.”
Jungkook looks over to the area in question, seeing the same bikers huddled around the deep bowl as someone drops in. “Sick, who is he?”
“Taehyung,” your friend speaks up, chin resting on her palm as she stares dreamily at the boy with the wide smile that catches air on his bike. They had only been dating a few weeks, but it was clear she was absolutely smitten with him. 
“No way,” Jungkook chuckles, raking his hands through his hair again. It’s become a habit ever since he let it grow out, but each time he does it, you’re given the perfect view of his forehead and strong eyebrows, so you’re not complaining. “We go way back. You must be Jia then?”
Her face beams up at that, proud that her boyfriend talks about her to his friends, and when Taehyung comes to a still and stares over at her, she waves at him frantically. Jungkook stifles a laugh when his friend does the same, long arm swinging side to side as he smiles at his girlfriend. 
“Yeah, glad to know he talks about me.”
“Oh, he doesn’t shut up about you,” he playfully rolls his eyes, chuckling when she gets even happier, deciding to stand up and make her way over to Taehyung for a moment. 
“They’re cute,” you sigh, resting your arm on the cool metal table as you stare at the couple, smiling as Jia sits her butt on the handlebars and screams when Taehyung pretends to drop into the bowl. 
“The cutest.” Jungkook humors you, eyes bouncing over to Hoseok and seeing him practicing some simple flat tricks off to the side. That’s when the idea pops into his head, turning back to stare at you with a grin on his lips. “Since you know Taehyung and Jia, are you coming to the kickback?”
“What kickback?”
“My friend Hoseok’s throwing a small get together. His parents are loaded and on this weird hippie retreat, so it’s free real estate for a party. Those two will be there, so I’m just passing along the message.”
Your roll your lips in thought, remembering the brief invitation Jia had given you a while back, an invitation you had turned down because you didn’t know anyone that would be there besides her and the last thing you wanted was to be alone once she disappeared with Taehyung. But if Jungkook would be there, then maybe you’d have a reason to go. 
“Is this a direct invitation?” you wonder, finishing off your treat and setting the stained stick aside. 
“Sure is. There’s also a pool in case my presence isn’t convincing enough.” His thick brows wiggle while he speaks, a quick wink sent your way, and a cute smile spreads onto his lips when you roll your eyes at his antics. 
“I don’t know. Land another trick for me, and I’ll consider it.”
Jungkook never backs down from a challenge, so he nods in thought, bending forward to grab his board from the dry grass, mind whirling as he thinks of the right trick to do to impress you. 
“You’re gonna make me work for it huh?” He stands up fully now, adjusting his atrocious shirt as it sticks to his back once more. There’s a playful smile on his face that only spreads when you nod your head in confirmation. 
“Sure am. Go on and try to impress me with something cute.” Your words poke fun at him, your foot coming out to nudge at his leg for him to get going when he remains by your side. 
“I hope you have an outfit planned for it because I’m totally gonna blow you away with my cute trick.”
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Of course Jungkook lands the trick, making it look like a piece of cake without breaking a sweat as he once again blew a kiss your way, managing to rope you in and get your number as well as a verbal confirmation that you’d be at the party. 
It makes him feel a little jittery as he roams the aisles of the nearby 7-11 with Jimin, in search of drinks and some snacks. He can faintly see his reflection in the glass doors as he eyes the shelves of drinks, blonde hair split down the middle and styled off his face, a look of thought on his features. The rings adorning his fingers rattle against his board leaning on his legs as he taps them along the nose, looking far too conflicted over the choices displayed in front of him. 
“It’s just alcohol Kook. Pick something.” Jimin speaks up from beside him, playfully shoving his shoulder to snap Jungkook out of his deep concentration. 
“Girls like white claws, right?” he wonders outloud, fingers curling around the handle of the fridge before yanking it open. The chill hits him instantly, something he welcomes since the summer heat was still going strong. It sends a shiver through him so he keeps the door propped open, choosing to stare without the glass obstructing his view. 
“Bro, I like white claws.” Jimin huffs, sliding in between Jungkook and grabbing his own case of the mango flavored drink, not wanting to linger in this store longer than necessary.  
“So, yes?” 
Jimin gives his friend a pointed look as he juggles his board and the drink case in his arms. “Yes, grab two of the assorted cases. I’m sure Hoseok has enough alcohol in case they happen to hate great tasting seltzer.”
That’s good enough for Jungkook, grabbing two cases and letting the fridge door slam behind him as he follows after Jimin. The silver haired boy was already at the counter, grabbing a pack of original backwoods and setting it on top of his beloved white claw case, an array of snacks beside it. 
“What if she flakes?” Jungkook wonders as he slides the cases besides Jimin’s junk, grabbing his wallet from his pocket to flash his ID to the cashier before fishing out some bills to pay for it all—something he had promised Jimin after losing a bet yesterday afternoon. 
“Then she flakes,” Jimin shrugs, asking the cashier for extra bags to ensure the plastic wouldn’t give out on their ride to Hoseok’s. 
“Fuck, don’t say that.” Jungkook whines, pocketing the change and smiling in thanks when the cashier triple bags their items. If you flaked on him, he would feel like such a loser, excited at the prospect of getting to see you again only for it to be made clear that you really weren’t interested. 
Jungkook shakes those thoughts out of his head as they exit the store, his leg propping open the door for the next customer. Jimin can see the worry on his younger friend’s face, heaving a sigh as he lets his board fall to the floor. 
“She’s not gonna flake. She’s probably already there.”
That doesn’t seem to make it any better, Jungkook’s eyes bulging out as he adjusts the bags in his grip and drops his own board in a haste. 
“The fuck are we doing here then?” he huffs, hopping onto the deck and pushing himself off in a hurry, not even waiting for Jimin to situate himself as he rolls down the parking lot and onto the sidewalk. 
“Okay, fuck me right?” Jimin shouts out, rolling his eyes as Jungkook doesn’t seem fazed. If anything, he picks up more speed. Jimin knew the way to Hoseok’s: it was only a few blocks away, plus Jungkook was carrying the bulk of the items so he shouldn’t even be complaining. 
The strain of his arms is starting to ache from the weight pulling on them, paired up with the blaze of the late afternoon sun, and Jungkook can already feel the prickling of sweat on his skin. His button up of choice today doesn’t provide him much airflow compared to his favorite hawaiian shirt, something he had forgone in order to not get absolutely roasted from you and his friends again. Instead he picked out a loose fitting red shirt with the depiction of dragons printed on it, tucked into his ripped black jeans to showcase the black belt wrapped around his waist. 
Sure, he had decided to dress up a little. It might be to impress you, or it might be self care, but he reassured himself that he still looked casual because of the dirty converse laced on his feet. 
He smiles a bit as the streets grow wider, rolling onto the smooth pavement instead of the cracked sidewalk. Rich people loved their streets pothole and gravel free, and it made for perfect cruising conditions. It lets him get more speed as he nears Hoseok’s house, blonde strands flowing through the wind, silver earrings dangling in time with each kick he gives until finally, he sees it. 
Both feet rest on his board now and he spares a glance behind him, laughing when he sees Jimin doing his best to catch up with a middle finger aimed right at him. Jungkook juggles the bags in his grasp before throwing the bird back, leaning to the right to turn onto the driveway and hopping off the board altogether. 
He doesn’t even bother grabbing his board, choosing to kick it until it rolled onto the green front lawn. There was no way someone would steal it here anyways, so he feels no guilt as he makes his way inside the air conditioned home. 
“Hobi!” he calls out, not in the mood to try to find his friend wherever he might be in the house. Jungkook just shuffles through the entryway, making a beeline for the kitchen like he always does when he’s here. “Oh, there you are.”
Hoseok hums in confirmation as he pulls out some water from the fridge, fingers pointing at the bags in his friend’s grasp. “What did you get?”
“White claws,” Jungkook grunts, hauling the cases up onto the oversized island and shaking out his arms to get the feeling back into them. 
“Nice, where’s Jimin?”
“He’s coming.” The door opens then, and Jungkook gestures to signify that it must be him. “Anyways, is she here yet?”
“Who?” Hoseok frowns, not even able to conceal his laughter when Jungkook gives him a stone cold look. “Damn I’m kidding. Yeah, she’s here. Everyone’s outside by the pool. Come bring the drinks out.”
Jungkook hops in place for a bit, a goofy smile on his face when Hoseok shoves his shoulder with a laugh. You were here. You didn’t flake, and now his nerves were back to overflowing his mind. 
With a small breath, he contains his smile, trying to keep his face neutral as he grabs the cases and follows behind Hoseok to the backyard, Jimin right behind him. Jungkook doesn’t even react when Jimin kicks his thigh like an annoying brother. No, he’s too focused on finding you in the small group of people lounging under the canopy beside the pool. 
He hears Taehyung instantly once the doors open, his wild laughter kickstarting everyone else's. Jungkook’s eyes roam around, spotting Namjoon standing by the grill as he ensures the burgers and hotdogs don’t burn. Taehyung is currently kneeled on a bright pink floating bed, playing what appears to be a game of chicken with Jin in the pool, the two of them fully clothed and swatting at each other in an effort to have someone topple over. 
“Wait, shit, my phone’s still in my pocket!” Taehyung shouts out as Jin gets his hands around the other’s wrist, fully intent on sending him over. 
“Nice try,” Seokjin calls his bluff, yanking his friend over with full force, wobbling on his own floaty as Taehyung splashes into the water with a scream. 
That’s when he hears your laugh, having it embedded in his mind since last week. It’s easy for him to find you now, seeing you tucked into the cushions of the couch in the shade, snug right between Jia and Yoongi’s girlfriend, Sena. 
He freezes in his spot, making Jimin collide into his back with a curse before he’s pushed out of the way. That same dorky smile spreads across his lips as your eyes move from the scene in the pool to Jungkook, a grin sent his way as you shimmy out of your wedged spot. 
Jungkook tries not to be a typical boy that gawks at pretty girls, but you make it so hard, legs taunting him in another pair of denim shorts and a cropped distressed vintage tee of a band he just so happens to love only makes him swoon just a little more. 
“You look really pretty,” he breathes out as you get close enough, abandoning a typical greeting in favor of a compliment that makes you laugh as you look down at the grass beneath your shoes. 
“Thanks,” you smile, hand reaching out to tug at his shirt, admiring the pattern that covers it, favoring it to the bright blue vacation shirt from before. “You do too.”
He catches your words before you can try to fix them, a teasing smile on his lips as he raises his brows. “You think I look pretty? Thank you.”
You don’t even fight it, grabbing the top case of white claws to ease the weight off of him with a smile, instantly walking towards the outdoor fridge Hoseok had told you was where all the drinks would be. “You’re welcome. Keep wearing shirts like that, and I’ll call you pretty all the time.”
Jungkook whistles as he walks beside you, softly bumping into your shoulder, “How’d you know my love language is words of affirmation?”
“Is it?” you laugh, setting the case on top of the outdoor counter and opening it up, ready to hand them over to Jungkook as he kneels to open the mini fridge. 
“Sure is. Hearing it from you just makes it hit a little different though.”
Your teeth bite down on your lower lip, trying to conceal your smile at his honest flirting, urging the butterflies in your stomach to settle down. There’s a glimmer in his eyes as he stares up at you, and it makes you want to match his energy, so you nod as you crack open the can in your hand and pass it over to him before opening one for yourself. 
“Noted. You’re gonna be sick of my compliments by the time the day is over.”
Jungkook doesn’t think that’s true at all, but he’s not going to stop you from calling him cute or pretty because it makes his cheeks hurt from how hard he tries to keep from smiling. 
As the evening progresses and the sun slowly dips beyond the horizon, the two of you find your way beside the pool with your feet dipped in, and you stay true to your words. Jungkook lets you boost his ego as you compliment his tattoos, allows you to grip his hands while you inspect the chunky rings adorning his fingers and even try to slip a few on to see how they’d look on your own. The final push is when you run your fingers through his hair, nails gently grazing his scalp in an innocent way as you comment on the shade of blonde, sweet voice telling him how nicely it suits him.  
That’s when a shiver wracks through him, and he can’t even attribute it to the soft chill the summer night brings or the cold pool water. No, it was solely because of you. Your soft spoken comments were sending his mind into overdrive, and he desperately needed to mellow out before he made a fool of himself in front of you. 
So he does what he thinks is best, fishes into his deep front pockets and pulls out one of the joints he had stuffed in there this morning. It was his emergency joint and Jungkook wasn’t sure if this classified as an emergency but he was about two minutes from going all heart eyes on you, so he had to calm himself down to not scare you off. 
“Is that weed?” you laugh, your hand coming up to cover your lips as you giggle, his chunky ring still loosely wrapped around your index finger glimmering in the night light. 
“Yeah, wait–do you smoke?” he stutters out, breathing a sigh of relief when you slowly nod. “Jimin has a blunt if you prefer that,” he shrugs, index finger and thumb holding the joint up between you. 
“I hate how blunts taste so, this is fine.” 
Jungkook smiles as he pulls out his lighter, handing you the joint first, hands urging you to press the crutch to your lips as he lights it up for you. The flame casts a soft glow on your face as he holds it at the end, watching as you gently twist it between your fingers, lightly dragging until the cherry glows solid. 
The smell hits you instantly, nose wrinkling as you inhale and pass it over to him, letting your feet gently kick in the water as you slowly exhale, the slight burn in your lungs making you cough. Jungkook can’t even tease you for it, taking too big of a puff he can barely hold in before he’s coughing with you, a cloud of smoke billowing out as he laughs. 
And just like that his jitters are gone, able to calm his racing heart and fully stare at you as you speak, the two of you passing the joint between you until it was all gone. It leaves you feeling warm and floaty, not too high where you want to ball up on the couch and sleep, but comfortable and mellow as you sit pressed to his side. 
Jungkook has now figured out that your love language must be physical touch, your need for smoothing your hands over his shirt, fiddling with his rings and hair, and now gently wrapping your fingers around his bicep as he spoke to you. He enjoys it, scoots even closer to you until your thigh is practically pushed up onto his, but you don’t even mention it. 
You’re too lost in what he’s telling you, the weed making you hang on to his every word. It doesn’t help that Jungkook makes conversation like second nature, knowing just what to say to keep the laughs flowing from you, giving you small peeks of his life in forms of animated stories and rambles. 
Even without the help of drugs, his way with words pulls you in without you realizing. The added daze simply aids in having you cling to him with bright eyes as you follow along to every syllable he says. 
It leaves you wondering for a minute, cloudy brain zoning out as you think of all the loose facts you’ve been presented with since meeting him. Jungkook was hot—that much was obvious—and he had to know it. There was no way he doesn’t know how easy it is for him to wrap anyone he wants around his fingers. At least, that’s what you think with how smooth the words flow from his mouth. 
It fills you with the tiniest bit of uncertainty, wanting to get some clarification before you allow yourself to pursue him the way you desperately wanted to because, right now, he’s ticking off all the boxes at an alarming rate. 
You don’t snap out of that small trance until he’s finishing up his story and shyly excusing himself to go to the bathroom, having chugged three white claws in record time before smoking. It’s no surprise he hauls himself up and scurries inside, ignoring Hoseok’s yells about getting the floor wet. 
That’s when you get your opportunity for clarity, turning to face the canopy and seeing the people who would give you the answers you needed. Seokjin and Yoongi don’t give you a second glance from their spot splashing in the pool, not noticing the way you get up and make your way to Taehyung and Namjoon. 
The two of them are currently stuffing their faces, hair damp and dripping, still shirtless from swimming, but as you approach them they grin at you through the food in their mouths. 
“What’s the catch with him?” you ask instantly, arms crossed over your chest, eyes a little droopy and a small smile on your face when you hear Jia giggle at your interrogation stance. 
“Wow, you’re baked,” she cackles, but you fully ignore her, pointed eyes staring at Taehyung. 
“Catch?” Taehyung mumbles, hotdog mush still stuffed in his cheeks, lips pouty, and Jia takes it upon herself to sit up and wipe the ketchup smeared onto his cheek. 
“Yeah,” you laugh, pointing your finger towards the house. “Is he like a serial heartbreaker? Does he have an extensive criminal record?”
Namjoon just chuckles at your questions, fingers wiping his mouth as he finishes chewing and leans forward, staring at you through the dark strands falling over his eyes. “The only thing Jungkook has broken is his arm two years ago. Also, he doesn’t have a record, unless you count the time he ran from some cops after we snuck into an abandoned property to skate.”
“So he’s not some sweet-talking womanizer?” you tease, only half meaning the questions. He hasn’t given you a definite reason for you to assume anything at all but something about him seemed too good to be true. Maybe you’re just used to the sleazy men who know just how to butter you up, but you need to double check that you’re not missing any obvious red flags that your rose colored glasses are concealing. 
Taehyung finally laughs, a sly smile on his face at the opportunity to tease Jungkook. He’s known him the longest, going back to when they were awkward preteens with side swept hair and chunky DC’s on their feet, so he knew Jungkook’s true personality. He’s charming without realizing it, has the art of playful flirting down to a science. But when it comes to actually pursuing girls, unless you make it glaringly obvious that you’re into him, his nerves get the best of him. 
Just as Tae’s about to clown his friend, Jungkook walks back out from the house, eyes squinty as he wonders where you went, and Taehyung chooses not to embarrass him. 
“If there's anyone I can vouch for, it’s Jungkook. He's a good guy, I promise.” 
“Yeah, and if for whatever reason he’s lying, I’ll make sure to bite his dick off.” Jia threatens, small hand dipping in between her boyfriend’s thighs to grip his junk. It seems to have the opposite effect, Taehyung facing her with wiggling brows, and you’re luckily saved from witnessing the rest when Jungkook sneaks up behind you, fully grabbing your attention as you turn your head to stare at him. 
“You snuck off,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around you as he hunches over, chin resting snugly on your shoulder. 
“Yeah, I came to get the inside scoop from your friends.”
Jungkook hums at that, looking up at the friends in question, neither of whom look particularly guilty, especially not Namjoon who waves his fingers and blows him a kiss. 
He just rolls his eyes at the gesture, head still too floaty to even bother asking his friends what they could have said to embarrass him. The only thing on his mind now is how good you smell, whatever perfume you must have sprayed along your neck filling his senses. It smells sweet, and for some reason, it makes his stomach rumble, something you clearly hear as you turn around and giggle. 
“You know what sounds good?” he questions, standing up straight and looking down at you. “A mcflurry.”
That did actually sound good. “M&M’s or oreo?”
Jungkook scoffs at that, letting a hand trail down until it grasps one of yours, fingers lacing together as he starts to tug you away from his friends. He takes a small detour to grab your discarded shoes to be put on before heading towards the side gate that leads to the front yard. 
“Oreo, duh. I’m not an animal.”
Jungkook keeps his hands interlaced with yours as he bends forward and grabs his skateboard from the same spot he had kicked it to when he first got here, keeping it tucked by his side as he continues pulling you towards the street. 
“Where are we going?” you laugh, not resisting as he leads the way, familiar with the neighborhood and the places around it. 
“To get that damn mcflurry. There’s a Mcdonalds not too far from here.”
That's fine by you, squeezing his palm as you walk down the street, illuminated by the streetlights lining the sidewalks. The small high you felt had slowly faded away, only leaving a light feeling in your chest that lingers the rest of the way. 
The walk only takes about fifteen minutes, easily spent as you joke with each other, your camera roll now full of videos of Jungkook with ridiculous filters on his cute face. It makes you smile like an idiot as you wait for the food you ordered, deciding once you were here that a mcflurry alone wasn’t gonna cut it. 
Before you know it, you're walking out of there with a stuffed bag and a cup holder to keep your precious mcflurries safe as you head down the street once more. Jungkook mentioned a nice park on this side of town that doesn’t come with a warning once the sun went down, so that’s where you were headed to indulge in the fried food. 
“Cheers,” Jungkook mumbles between a mouthful of fries, holding his chunky spoon in the air for you to tap against before taking the first taste of the oreo-vanilla goodness. 
“You know,” you pause to shut your eyes, getting a brain freeze as the ice cream sticks to the roof of your mouth, and Jungkook laughs at the irony of the notorious ice cream biter finally suffering. You can only flip him off before continuing your sentence, “If you would’ve picked M&M’s, whatever this is that we have going on wouldn’t work out.”
Jungkook doesn’t deny it, nodding along enthusiastically as he pulls out the hamburger from the bag, popping open the box and dumping his fries in the opposite flap. “Definitely. I mean, I already turned a blind eye to your crazy tendencies, but M&M’s is a no go.”
He smiles as you cackle, pulling out your own food, and only laughs harder as you flip the bag upside down and an absurd amount of spicy buffalo sauce comes tumbling out. “My crazy tendencies? Jungkook, what the hell.”
“Hey,” he threatens, pointing a finger at you as he chews his burger. “We all have our weaknesses. Yours is watermelon popsicles; mine is spicy buffalo sauce.”
Your hand raises in surrender, as you peel back a sauce for yourself to enjoy your nuggets, pushing the rest towards him with a smile. 
“So, do you bring that thing everywhere you go?” you tease, swatting his hands as he grabs some fries and chooses to dip them in the sauce you just opened instead of getting his own. 
When his wide eyes stare at you in question, you point at the skateboard set beside his feet with the wheels pointed up, letting you see the colorful art underneath that was scratched up from how often he used it. Jungkook has a car for actually getting around this large city, but his favorite method of transportation was his treasured board: it was convenient and he didn’t have to worry about parking. 
“Of course I do. I’m the concrete king, baby. I always have to be prepared.”
His face scrunches up in delight when you laugh. “Concrete king? What does that even mean?”
His tongue prods at his cheek while he wipes his hands, a smile beginning to spread on his lips as he stares at you. There's a similar smile on your own face, teeth shown as you bite into a fry and motion for him to explain. 
“It means I’m the best.”
“Okay,” you agree, scooping out another spoonful of your mcflurry and pointing it at him. “Show me something cool, Concrete King.”
Jungkook leans forward and wraps his lips around the spoon, stealing your dessert with a satisfied smile as he stands up. He just snickers when you call him a thief, savoring the sweetness in his mouth before bending down to grab his board. 
“I’ll do you one better. I'll show you how to do something cool.”
Your brows pinch together as you think it over, eyes focused on the board that he rolls back and forth under his foot. “So what I’m hearing is, you wanna take me to the ER tonight?”
His laughter fills the air at that, mixing in with the sound of the occasional car driving down the street. “C’mon,” he approaches you, large hands reaching for your own and gently tugging you out of your seat. “I won’t let you fall. I promise.”
The small feeling of success blooms in his chest when you reluctantly stand up with him, head hanging back as you stare at the night sky and playfully groan, only leveling back out for you to narrow your eyes at him. “Fine, but you’re not allowed to let go of my hands.”
He looks like a giddy child as he nods, blonde strands falling back around his face while he kicks the board into place. The only smooth area for you to attempt whatever he had planned was the basketball court a few feet away, luckily void of anyone to witness you potentially break a bone. You can already feel the ache in your body as you picture flopping onto the hard, unforgiving pavement. 
“We’ll start easy, get you comfortable with just standing on it, okay?”
The wheels scrape against the ground as he adjusts the deck in front of you, one shoe tucked in front of the wheel to prevent it from moving too much. When you simply stand there, his thumb rubs along your knuckles in an effort to get you to look up at him to see the sweet smile on his lips. His soft eyes are encouraging you to try, and since you trust him, you do. 
With unsteady feet, you cautiously place your left foot onto the board, feeling the slight friction from the grip tape on the bottom of your shoes. You still feel secure with your other foot on the ground, experimentally wiggling it into the spot he tells you to. 
“Okay, now the other one.” 
Your hands grip his even tighter as you do that, body tensing up when the board wobbles slightly under the uneven weight, but Jungkook keeps you steady until you spread your feet wide enough. He doesn’t mind the death grip you have on him, pads of his thumb still rubbing along the back of your palm as you laugh at your feet no longer being on solid ground. 
“Alright. I’m on it, now what?” Your body trembles a little with nerves, the fresh breeze only making your exposed skin break out into goosebumps as you stand with your knees slightly bent. 
“Eager now, huh?” he teases, stepping back a few inches to give you some space to do what he wants to do next. “Alright, all you have to do is jump and land with both feet. I’ll do the rest.”
A tiny squeak leaves your mouth, and he snickers at the panicked expression on your face. “You want me to jump?”
“Yeah, there’s nothing cool about just standing.” The way he rolls his eyes only makes you laugh with him, hesitantly nodding your head, reassuring yourself that you can trust him. 
“Oh god, okay.” 
Jungkook holds back the smile as he stares down at the board, telling you to keep your feet exactly where they were as he takes the top of his shoe and places it right underneath the center of the board. “You’re gonna have to jump a little high, but it’s simple. Ready?”
With a small hum of confirmation, he counts to three, hands holding you tight as you jump up, allowing him to kick the board up from under you and flip it around until it’s landing onto the ground and your feet are reconnecting with the grip tape once more. Your body wobbles from the impact, but the grip he has on you prevents you from toppling over, so you let out a cheer at not wiping out. 
Your hands pull away from his grasp, choosing to wrap your arms around him to pull him in for a hug. “That was so cool,” you boast, hearing the rumble of his laugh as you place your head against his chest, feeling his arms snake around your frame to hold you close. 
“Told you so,” he gives you a squeeze, foot still pressed against the wheels to keep the board from sliding out from under you. “So, what’s my reward for teaching you something cool?”
With a small hum, you’re turning to look up at him, arms snug around his waist and a smile on your lips. “I don’t know. Any suggestions?”
He can feel his heart hammering against his ribs, those same nerves from before slowly creeping up as he builds the courage to unscramble the words in his brain.
“Let me take you out, on a date.” His chest only tightens when you look at him in confusion, the creeping fear of rejection making his stomach twist, hoping that he hadn’t horribly misread all of the signals passed between you. 
“Isn’t tonight a date?”
And just like that, the weight lifts off of him, the familiar toothy smile you’ve grown so fond of being sent your way as he sighs in relief. “It can be, but I want to go on an actual date. Just us. No crazy friends playing chicken in the background.”
“I’d like that,” you whisper as you look up at him, licking over your lips when your eyes flicker down to his. 
Jungkook knows the universal signs before a first kiss, the way you slowly lean your face closer, eyes locked onto the curve of his lips, head angled up just before swooping in. And he makes the first mistake of the night, getting so caught up in the moment he removes his foot to stand closer, the center of balance from you leaning in, making the skateboard fly out right from under you. 
The shriek leaves your mouth instantly as your body rocks to the side, his loosening grip on you unable to keep you up right, but the grip you have on him makes the two of you come tumbling down together. He cushions your fall as best as he can, arms wrapped around your head when your back meets the cold pavement, the weight of him clambering on top of you and pressing onto your chest as you lose yourself in laughter. 
The ache in your butt is felt instantly, but luckily you’re unscathed otherwise, heart thrumming from the scare but mouth wide open as you giggle. When you finally open your eyes, you’re met with a curtain of blonde strands, Jungkook’s hair draped over you as he does his best to not totally crush you under his weight. 
“You broke your promise,” you laugh, loosening your solid grip from his waist as you bring your hands up to push back his hair, letting you see his worried expression. His knees are bruised without a doubt, having hit them on the way down, now slot on either side of your thighs as he slowly kneels, hands slipping out from around your head to press against the pavement. 
“Promise?” he wonders, momentarily having forgotten everything when he thought you were hurt, but then he remembers. He let you fall. 
“Fuck, I’m sorry. Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” you breathe out, the fan of your laughter felt against his cheeks from your close proximity, hands still carding through his hair like you hadn’t just wiped out. You still have that look on your face, the same one you wore before he had let you fall, eyes staring at his lips in anticipation. 
Jungkook lets out a shaky breath with a smile of his own before slowly leaning forward, the small adrenaline rush he felt aiding him in concealing his nerves, allowing him to finally press his lips against yours in a sweet kiss. He tests the water for a second, eyes fluttering shut until you’re putting more pressure into it as you kiss him back. 
The small throb of pain you felt earlier is pushed away as you let your hands tangle in his hair, hearing the way he breathes against you mixing in with the rustling of the trees around you. Jungkook can’t think of anything else as he kisses you harder, bringing one hand up to softly cup your cheek before you’re separating from him. 
“You taste sweet. I like it,” you mumble with a dopey laugh as you lick your lips, the sugar on his lips from the bite of dessert he had stolen from you minutes prior still lingering. His eyebrows raise up at the compliment, heart skipping when you erupt into laughter as he kisses you once more, lips obnoxiously puckered and pressing against yours with a wet smack. 
“Yeah?” he teases, biting down onto his lower lip, thumb gently caressing your cheek. “Did I just blow my chances of that date?”
You let out a soft hum as your fingers trail to the nape of his neck, wrapping a strand of hair around your finger as you twist it in thought. “Definitely not,” you smile. “Kiss me again.”
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In a surprising turn of events, Jungkook sits behind the wheel of his car, right arm casually draped over the center console with his fingers interlocked with yours. A small smile is on his lips as you play with his hand subconsciously, softly muttering along to the song he is playing on the radio, preferring the sound of the Neighbourhood when it’s coming from you. 
The landscape glows with remnants of orange and purple, the sun just about to hide behind the sea while he drives along the coast. Jungkook wanted to hang out with you without the added stress of the summer sun making him sweat through his shirt, and you very eagerly agreed, deciding that the evening would be best. 
It’s an odd day in the middle of the week, allowing for ample parking which saves you both from the headache that usually came with driving to the pier. You had suggested the activity, wanting to beat him to it before he could plan something over the top. At first, Jungkook couldn’t understand why you were so against having a typical dinner date, but something about it just didn’t feel natural to you. Being forced to sit across from each other as you made small conversation in between bites of food, surrounded by a sea of couples and families with someone constantly coming in to check on you seemed like too much for a first official date. 
This though, the smell of the sea salt and sweetness of funnel cakes, the crash of the waves below blending in with the bells of a game just being won a few feet away, felt right for the two of you. Jungkook gets it now, and he’s grateful for your suggestion, knowing his jitters would have been too much for him to handle if he had done what he originally wanted. He’s able to relax in this setting, familiar with the pier, and you are too, easily dragging him along the boardwalk as you approach the ticket stand, wanting to get on all of the rides this place had to offer. 
“Scared?” Jungkook teases, watching as your eyes look at the colorful roller coaster a little further down, the elated screams from riders being heard as they zoom through it. 
“Never. You?”
He lets out a sigh when he leans back onto the metal railing, arm slung casually around your shoulder as you both stare at the rides around you. It’s a little chillier now that the sun is gone, but the fresh breeze is inviting, giving him another reason to keep you snug by his side as the skirt of your dress flutters around.
“Of course not. I’m an adrenaline junkie, babe. I live for this.”
Your laugh makes him look back down at you, catching a glimmer of the necklace you have on. It's the same ring you had taken from him the other night, holding it hostage and looping a dainty chain through it so it could rest against your chest. The chunky ring that had become one of his favorites being a casual accessory for you makes Jungkook’s heart skip, urging him to pull you even closer as he gently presses a kiss to your forehead. 
“Let’s make it interesting then,” you mumble, trying to play off how warm your face feels from his display of affection. 
“Keep talking.” His love for a challenge makes itself known as you creep up the line of people, his eyes boring into yours to try to figure out just what you had in mind. 
“First one to scream has to win the other the most obnoxious prize there is here.” This seemed too easy, the roller coasters on the pier didn’t have intense drops or spins that would make Jungkook scream like Six Flags would, but the sly smile on your face makes him a little wary. 
It doesn’t stop him from agreeing instantly though, hand outstretched to meet yours as he smirks. “Deal.”
With determination set on both your features, you’re starting the challenge, grabbing your wristbands and running off to the first coaster. It looks off into the ocean, painted a bright yellow and definitely not scary looking in the slightest, although the little kid crying as he exits with his parents might think differently. 
“No screaming,” you remind him as you strap into the ride, fingers tapping along the lap bar, feeling the way his thighs bounce from excitement. 
“Easy,” Jungkook huffs, wiggling in his seat as the attendants clear the ride and step back. 
His enthusiasm heightens once the ride is set in motion, and before he knows it, you’re speeding down the tracks at a surprising rate. It catches you both off guard as a sharp turn makes your shoulders ram into his, desperately biting down on your lips to not scream as the wind flows through your hair. 
Jungkook cracks first, not with a scream but a laugh, unable to contain it as he’s sliding across the seat and squishing you against your side at the next turn. 
“That wasn’t a scream!” he defends, only laughing harder as the whiplash continues, entire body vibrating from the rattles of the cart. You agree to it for your own sake, breaking out into belly aching laughter as you’re shaken around on the small coaster. 
That small loophole Jungkook created seems to be his saving grace for the following rides, concealing all of his shrieks with laughter so giddy it makes your cheeks hurt as you join him. 
It’s not until you’re hauling him to some weird single ride called the Gyro Loop that he begins to think he’ll actually lose, and the knowing grin on your face only makes him even more sure. He’s proven right a few seconds after you strap on, blindsided by the controls the riders are in charge of. 
The attendant had instructed you on what to do, saying there was a prize to be won if you completed a certain number of rotations but Jungkook doesn’t catch any of it, so the second the ride swings back and you’re pushing one of the buttons around the harness he gasps as you’re shot up. He’s given no warning, and with another push of a button, the seats flip upside down in a woosh, everything blurring around you. It’s not like Jungkook sees any of it, as you turn to look at him you take note of his eyes squeezed shut, a grimace painted over his usually soft features. 
His fingers grip the metal handles tightly to brace himself, accidentally pressing one of the buttons and making it flip over a second time, so fast it whips his hair back and that's when Jeon Jungkook loses. A shriek of surprise spills past his lips the second his head is upside down and you’re laughing instantly, pushing it further as you continue hitting the controls, finally joining in with his screams now that he lost. 
It’s safe to say you don’t win the prize, too busy laughing at his screams to bother pursuing it and as you step off the ride you can’t help but wipe under your eyes for any stray tears that slipped through your laughter. 
“That was a planned attack,” he accuses, hunching over to rest his palms on his knees, thankful to be on solid ground without the world spinning around him. 
“It was,” you admit, softly rubbing his back as he takes a minute to breathe. “But I saw this cute plushie when we got here and I wanted it, so I did what I had to do.”
He peers up at you, eyes a little glassy from what just happened, but he stands up instantly, a little more life in his face now that his stomach stopped flipping. In theory, if you wanted a plushie, he could have just won it for you instead of enduring the horrible Gyro Loop, but he’s determined to win it for you now. “What prize?”
Your hand reaches over to grab his, fingers lacing together to tug him back towards the game section. His head feels dizzy again, no longer able to blame it on the horrible ride he had just got off. Something about the warmth of your hand as your fingers fit snugly against his, the gentle pull as you lead him with a smile that shows just how much you're enjoying yourself, makes his chest tighten and head spin in the best way. 
He’s too busy staring at your face while you lead the way, tracing the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips as you speak, slowly morphing into a pout that’s aimed at him when you realize he isn’t paying attention. “Sorry, you’re just really beautiful.”
The pout is replaced instantly as your lips press together, internally squealing at the way compliments spill from his mouth, so casual and genuine it's clear he means them. Damn him and his words of affirmation. 
“Thank you,” you mumble, a bashful look on your face as you squeeze his palm before pointing in front of you with your free hand. He follows the invisible line from your fingertips until he’s met with the plushie you want. “That’s the one.”
Jungkook can’t stop himself from chuckling as he gets a good look at the stuffed animal. It’s a medium sized yellow bunny, but the cherry on top comes in the form of an atrocious blue hawaiian shirt with the word ‘cali’ embroidered to the left of the buttons. 
“Is this another jab at my shirt? I haven’t even worn it since I first met you.” He takes a baby step back from you, stretching his arms out to make sure that you didn’t somehow believe he was currently wearing it. The truth is, it’s currently deep in his laundry basket, but he isn’t gonna tell you that. 
“You know, it kinda grew on me,” you shrug, looking at the loose fitting gray shirt he has on now. As obscene as that hawaiian shirt is, it’s also really cute, fitting his personality in a strange way. 
Jungkook looks shocked at your admission, having only been roasted by his friends since the day he bought it, and you, this one comment is going to be the sole reason he goes out and buys even more colors to wear. “Alright, if you want the bunny, I’ll get you that bunny, babe. I got this.”
The teenage boy standing in charge of the Mini Hoops game looks totally uninterested, barely mumbling out the rules after Jungkook hands him some money. The lack of enthusiasm from the boy doesn’t faze Jungkook, simply palming the tiny basketball in his large hands, turning to shoot you a wink before he’s lifting his arms and throwing the ball. 
It swishes into the net with ease, settling into the bottom as he follows it up with three more, a proud smile pushing his cheeks out when you cheer for him. With the final ball in his grasp, he leans over the small distance between you and presses a soft kiss to your lips before standing straight once more and sending it off, a shrill bell going off as it swishes through the net like the ones before.
The boy unhooks the bunny from its spot and gives it to Jungkook before moving on to the next couple ready to play. Jungkook gives it another good look, slightly catching the resemblance now that the fluffy bunny is in his hands, and when he hears you call his name with your phone pointed in his direction, he brings it up beside his face, scrunching up his nose for a picture. It’s the cutest thing, the bright lights shown in the background, face lit up in hues of purple and yellow, and you decide then that it’s becoming his contact photo.
He passes it to you with another kiss, feeling the way your lips curve into a smile against his, stuffed animal held to your chest as his thumb holds your chin when he pulls away, half lidded eyes staring down at you with so much emotion it makes your stomach flip. 
The feeling never settles, only getting stronger with the additional time spent together. The bunny is kept protectively at your side when you eventually make your way onto the sand, funnel cake in between you to share while you look at the night sky. The pier stays illuminated even as the rides and food stands shut down, taking the crowd of people with it until only a few stragglers remain. It gives you a small sense of privacy as you settle beside each other, the cold grains of sand felt against your thighs and making you shiver. 
Jungkook takes note of it as he takes a bite of the funnel cake, and although his legs won’t provide much warmth—jeans having large holes that expose his muscular thighs—he knows it’ll be better than the sand. So when he pats them, giving you a powdered sugar covered smile, you slowly turn to the side and rest your legs over his thighs. 
“Better?” he wonders, picking up the plate and placing it on your shins to cut you a piece. 
“Yeah, thanks.” 
“Sorry if it’s too cold now. I just don’t really want this day to end.” He admits it so quietly you almost don’t hear it through the crash of the waves. 
“Me either,” you agree, letting him feed you the piece of funnel cake he had meticulously cut, enough chocolate syrup and banana on it for you to get a good taste of everything. 
In pure honesty, you had grown to love the light, airy feeling that came with being around Jungkook these last few weeks. His boyish charm brings out your playful side full force: it reminds you of the time spent in school, the second you’re out for summer break when just about anything seems possible. 
Being with Jungkook leaves you looking forward to the next time the sun comes back up, welcoming the heat that comes with it if it means seeing him. It's the bubbling of a crush lit inside of you, makes you feel every soft touch tenfold, makes you want to savor each small moment to treasure forever. You know you’ll one day look back on it and feel nostalgic over the time spent laying on the cold sand, under the night sky with the blonde boy with a charming smile. 
“I had a lot of fun today,” he shyly adds on, feeling the same emotions you have coursing through you. It's been a while since Jungkook has felt like this, simply going through life with his friends and the casual fling that never lasted long, but he desperately hopes this doesn’t become that. He doesn’t want this to burn out once the summer goes, hoping to still have your hand to hold as the season changes, but those damn nerves from before keep him from admitting anything. 
Luckily, you’re not as timid about admitting to anything, giving his palm a squeeze as you reach forward and stare directly at him. “I really like you Jungkook.”
His free hand grips your legs, thumb rubbing against the soft skin as he gives you a look of wonder, needing to make sure he actually heard you right and it wasn’t his ears playing some sick trick on him. But when your smile never fades, eyes crinkling up as you take note of his expression, he snaps back into it. “I really like you too, a lot.”
The waves crash hard to your left, matching the explosion in your heart as you beam at him through the moonlight. That stomach flipping, puppy-love sensation you’ve felt all day spreads throughout you, urging you closer to him in the sand. You’re not satisfied until his face is in your hands, cheeks cold from the sea breeze, lips pulled into a soft smile as you observe him for a minute. 
You take him in like a slow, steady breath, eyes following the strong shape of his eyebrows, the flutter of his lashes as he blinks, the twinkle reflected in his pupils, the slope of his nose topped with an adorable mole on the corner, leading to the matching one beneath his lower lip. And as he smiles at you, you decide that's the one feature of his that you love the most. 
Jungkook knows it’s coming, but even when you finally lean over and press your lips to his, he still lets out a tiny gasp, hand on your legs gripping tighter as he kisses back. With light pressure, he slowly starts to push you back. He’s mindlessly setting the half eaten funnel cake aside to be forgotten, favoring the sweetness of your lips to it, needing to get a better taste. 
The cold sand meets your back as he maneuvers you, easily slotting in between your legs when he kneels over your body. You can feel your heart hammering in your chest with each quiet smack of your lips, and you’re sure Jungkook can feel it too with his hands gliding up your sides, gently sliding up your neck until he’s cupping your jaw. 
Kissing him is intoxicating, your lips desperately chasing his as he pulls back slightly, bringing him back for more and he groans into it. That small sound ignites something within you, fills you with warmth and jittery excitement, thighs gently squeezing around him while you suck on his lower lip. Jungkook must like that too, letting out another breathless moan of your name when you let it snap back against his teeth, leaving it plump and glossy with a coat of saliva on it. 
His breathing mixes in with the sea, eyes glazed over as he stares down at you, desire clear on your features, teeth biting down on your lower lip when your hands slowly slide down his chest. Jungkook wants to remember this forever, the image of you splayed out on the sand with want so evident on your face, want for him. 
Jungkook can only curse under his breath at the sight, lips reconnecting with yours with more fervor, tongue lightly licking at your lips until your mouth is opening up, and when you let out a soft moan at the sensation, he feels his cock stir in his jeans. The hands on his chest start to slide down, gripping his waist, toying with the top of his jeans until you get to where you want to be. 
When you lightly trace over the growing bulge, wandering hands intent on making him lose his mind, he groans into your mouth before he pulls back. His harsh breath fans against your face, lips inches from your own. “Wait, ah fuck–“ he sighs when your lips move to suck on his neck now, gentle licks to his skin that only tease him further. “I wasn’t expecting this.”
You hum into his skin, retracting your hand to stare at him with a genuine smile. “That’s okay. We can stop.”
“No, that’s not what I mean.” He shuts his eyes to concentrate, not able to focus when he can see how swollen your lips are from kissing him, only making him want to dive back in. Jungkook didn’t want you to think he had brought you here just for sex, disguising a first date and pulling you onto the sand just to get in your pants—even if you’re the one getting handsy with him. 
“I get it Jungkook. Don’t worry,” you breathe, cold hands cupping his cheeks again when he finally opens his eyes. “I want this. I promise.”
A small moment of confirmation is passed between you before he’s swiftly getting up, dusting the sand off his clothes and extending a hand out for you, smiling when you give him a look of confusion. 
“Not here though.” Jungkook didn’t want to fuck you on the questionable sand on this beach, also too afraid of running into other beach goers as they strolled through.  
He pulls you up, grabbing the plushie before hurrying to the car with you giggling right behind him. With the time of night, the lot he had parked in is practically empty, the nearest car too far away to pay any mind to. It was the best case scenario for you. 
Not wanting to waste anymore time, you yank open the back door, grabbing the bunny from his hands and chucking it inside before pinching his grey shirt and tugging him closer until your lips are slotting between his like the perfect puzzle piece. 
“Here?” he wonders through the kisses, not expecting you to want him to defile you in the parking lot, but you couldn’t help it: getting a taste of him now and having to wait felt like torture. 
“Yeah, I thought you were an adrenaline junkie babe.”
Your teasing words only make him laugh, large hands gripping your waist and pushing you against his car to intensify the kiss. All you can taste is him, sweet with the hint of funnel cake, lips soft and smelling suspiciously familiar, but before you can comment on it, he’s pushing you back onto the seat. 
“Dont wanna fuck you in the car either,” he groans, lips moving to mouth at your neck in sloppy kisses that make you shiver. Each touch feels like electricity, the slide of his hands pushing you further into the back until he’s shutting the door behind him, entirely grateful that he had his windows tinted way beyond the legal limit. 
“No?” It comes out as a sigh, feeling the skirt of your dress bunch up as his knee slots in between your thighs. The denim felt against your bare legs has you spreading your thighs further apart, wanting him to fit perfectly between you, needing him closer. 
“No,” he confirms, sucking on the skin and enjoying the way your hands tangle in his hair, nails gently scratching his scalp, tugging at the strands with enough force to have his cock fully hardening in his jeans. “Wanna fuck you right. The way you deserve.”
“And how's that?”
“Hmm,” he hums before licking at the purple splotch he just made on your neck, soothing the aching feeling that came with it. “I’d make you a late night picnic. Candle lit, you know, for romance—“
“I do love romance,” you giggle as you shimmy further onto the back seat, hands now anchored around his slim waist and urging him to settle above you properly. 
“Then I’d take you home—” another kiss to your skin, wet and sloppy. “Walk you to your front door like a gentleman.”
“Yeah, then what?” you groan as he nips your skin, hips finally slotting in between your thighs, letting you feel the bulge in his jeans pressing into your core. 
“I’d kiss you goodnight, like this.” He pulls away from your neck, one hand cupping your cheek as he stares down at you with a glimmer in his eyes and softly presses his lips to yours. The familiar scent fills your nose once more and you finally pinpoint it, remembering flashes of the watermelon chapstick he had been using all day. He knew it was your favorite flavor, incorporating it in such a minuscule way, knowing you’d love the taste of his lips even more with it.  
It makes you smile in appreciation as he gives you a gentle peck, pulling away a bit with a smile before connecting your lips once more. 
Your hands slide up his sides, gliding up his shirt and over his shoulders until you’re holding onto the sides of his face with equal tenderness. Jungkook groans into the kiss when your tongue peaks out, licking at the seam of his lips and begging to slip inside. You only allow yourself a small taste of it before you’re pulling back, a string of spitting connecting your lips together that breaks when you speak. 
“And if I ask you to come inside for a drink?” you tease, fingers finding their way into his hair and twirling the strands, knowing having his hair played with was a weakness. 
“I’d never say no to that,” he smiles, kissing you once more, peppering them on your cheek, down your jaw, until all you can hear is his jagged breath by your ear. 
“We’ll go inside for a drink, and because you just can’t keep your hands to yourself—“ he teases, gently biting your ear and smiling when you squeal in surprise. “I’ll probably end up bending you over and fucking you in the kitchen.”
“Oh,” you groan dramatically, throwing your head back against the cushion. “That’s so romantic!”
He snickers too, large palm gripping your cheek to get you to stare at him once more, seeing the hunger swirling in his eyes. “Only the best for you baby.”
“Well, until then…just fuck me here once,” you beg, so pretty and sweet, eyes batting at him with such innocence he almost feels bad for how much it turns him on. You have no business making a request that filthy with a saccharine smile coating your lips.
“Fuck baby,” he sighs, eyes trailing over your body, seeing the thin straps of your dress hanging off your shoulders, swells of your chest peaking out over the top of your dress, rising and falling with each breath you take. Your thighs glide along his, rubbing his jeans and bringing his attention further down. That's when he takes note of your dress bunched up, revealing the pale pink of your underwear to him and the small patch of wetness gathering at the front. 
“Give me all that romance later. C’mon Kook.” Your back arches slightly, hips lifting up in search of anything, desperate for him to actually touch you. Slowly, your hands drop down to your hips, fingers dipping into the sides of your underwear and teasingly tugging at it, smiling when Jungkook drops his head back and groans. 
A playful laugh fills the car as he pulls the underwear off of you in a haste, sliding them down your legs and letting the soft fabric drop onto the car floor. Without an ounce of shame, your hands trail up your skin, leading his eyes up your thighs and directly onto your pussy. Any words he wanted to say leave him instantly, taking a moment to admire the view, groaning as your own fingers glide up your slit with a low hum. 
Jungkook can’t take it anymore, bringing a palm up to his mouth to messily spit into it. Your jaw drops at the sight, a soft moan spilling out as he brings his fingers down onto your cunt. He’s gently pushing your hands away as he spreads his spit around your entrance and back up to trail along your slit, tender touches mixing it in with your sticky arousal. 
“Gotta get you ready for me baby,” he sighs, fingertips tapping onto your clit, a mirth laugh reaching your ears as he sees the way your body jolts at the sensation. 
“Fuck, hurry. I wanna feel you,” you whine, hands gripping his shoulders and pulling him closer to you until your lips are on his again. 
Jungkook melts into the kiss, rubbing slow, deliberate circles onto your clit, just enough pressure to have you mewling softly into his mouth. With wet smacks of your lips, he trails his fingers down again, feeling the added wetness of your slick as he circles your entrance, the flutter of your walls felt when he teasingly pushes into you. 
Your walls suck him in easily, and the warmth of your pussy has him kissing you harder, already picturing the way you’d feel wrapped around his cock. A satisfied hum passes between your mouths as he buries his fingers deep inside you, pumping them slowly before a second finger joins in. 
His tongue tangles along yours, swallowing each moan you let out, teasingly pushing and pulling like a dance and once you find the perfect rhythm you can’t pull away. Jungkook soaks it all in: each quiet breath, each tug at his hair, the gentle nips to his lips and the subtle clash of your teeth when you can’t seem to get enough. 
There's just something about sloppy, desperate kisses that spur Jungkook on, the mess born from passion making his skin heat up with each smack of your lips. His need for mess makes him pull back slightly, gently licking at your lips to get you to open up for him, waiting until your eyes are fluttering open to stare at him. A soft tap to your cheek passes the message along, and you’re sticking your tongue out for him before he lets a thick trail of spit dribble out of his mouth and into yours. 
It makes your eyes widen in surprise, more so when his free hand is placed beside your throat with his thumb pressing along your jaw. His eyes focus on the glob of saliva on your tongue, biting onto his lower lip as you groan and bring your tongue back into your mouth. The swallow is felt against his hand, instantly starting a slow simmer within you. Your warm walls tighten around his fingers at the act and he curses when he feels it. 
“More, please,” you plead, lifting your head up to chase his mouth, tongue tracing the outline of his lips sinfully. 
“Mm, I knew you were crazy, but who knew you were filthy too.” His tone is playful, brow cocked up as he looks down at you and winks. A teasing laugh escapes you, blending in with a cry of his name when his thumb presses into your aching clit, working in tandem with his fingers. With a satisfied smirk, he repeats it again, a thick glob of saliva gathered behind his lips, slowly dropping into your mouth while you patiently wait, lids heavy as you watch him intently. 
Jungkook doesn’t even give you time to swallow it this time around before he’s crashing his mouth into yours once more, tongue tickling the roof of your mouth as he picks up the speed of his hands. 
“Shit,” you gasp, pulling back from the kiss, biting down onto your lip when he spreads his fingers apart, stretching you out with each glide against your velvety walls. The wet thump of his palm meeting your skin fills the small car, mixing in with the stuttered breaths you exhale each time his fingers graze the sweet spot inside of you. 
“You’re so fucking wet,” he marvels almost breathlessly, pressing sweet kisses onto your cheek that don’t match the way his fingers fuck into you. He can feel his palm growing sticky with each thrust, folds messy with your arousal, but you’re begging for more, so he quickly slides a third finger in. 
“J-jungkook,” you cry out, fingers tugging his strands in desperation as the lust clouds your mind. The air is getting thick around you, slightly fogging up the windows and getting worse with each choked breath you let out. “Wanna feel you, please.”
You couldn’t take it anymore, needing to feel him beyond his fingers and soft kisses. Jungkook gets it, his cock aching in his jeans so hard it was a shock he hadn’t blown his load from the pretty sounds you make. He wanted to sink into you, see the way your face twists in pleasure when he fills you up. 
“Okay, alright baby.” Reluctantly, he pulls his fingers out of your messy cunt, strings of your arousal coating his digits, popping them into his mouth to lick clean and humming in satisfaction. 
He awkwardly reaches over to the passenger seat, leaning across to open the glove box and pull out the condoms he keeps there for emergencies. Before leaning back he does a double take at the bunny you had thrown onto the seat, button eyes staring at him—judging him—so he hesitantly turns it around to face the window instead. Only then does he settle onto the back seat once more, square packet held between his teeth as he fiddles with the buttons on his jeans. 
“You know, I love your thighs.” Your hand reaches forward to trail your fingernail along his skin, muscles exposed in the distressed jeans he wore. 
“Yeah?” he mumbles out as he unzips them, tugging the material down a bit before pushing his boxers down with them. 
“Mhm, they’re thick...wanna bite em.” He laughs at your horny rambling, pulling his aching cock out with a small hiss, heavy in his hand as he gives it a languid pump. Your lips purse out when you realize how big it is, wide eyes not daring to look away, glued to the way his thumb comes up to roll over the mushroom tip. 
A cocky smile is on his lips, continuing to pump himself purely for your entertainment; you’re transfixed on the grip of his palm, the subtle veins leading to the pink tip. “Like what you see?”
You don’t even care about the tone he uses, knowing damn well you did by the way you’re drooling over him, nodding along like a sex crazed zombie because of course you do. The need to touch him has your small hand reaching for it, and he releases his grip to allow you to wrap your palm around him. A content sigh leaves you when you feel the weight of him in your grasp, warm to the touch, and he groans as your thumb gently presses under his tip before pumping down the shaft. The translucent beads of precum dripping from his tip are spread around his engorged head, leaving it shiny in the dim lighting inside the car. 
“Here, let me.” The square packet is taken from between his teeth, slipped between your own as you tear it open. Jungkook can only watch with bated breath as you pull out the condom and slowly start to roll it on. It’s torture, the subtle squeeze your hand gives on the way down, palm now sticky with lube. His hips have a mind of their own, gently rutting into your fist with a groan when you tighten your grip before pulling away.
Jungkook lets out a breath as you lower yourself back down, resting on your elbows with your head tilted and a sultry smile on your lips. His large hands grip your knees, trailing up your inner thighs to urge you to spread them further apart, palms gently pressing into your skin in a touch that starts a fire inside you. The exhilaration spreads when you see the lust filled look on him, soft doe eyes half lidded and swirling with hunger, only growing as he once again grabs his cock and inches towards your awaiting core. 
“God, always look so fucking pretty,” he whines, head of his cock nudging against your center, slowly pushing into you, feeling the way your walls wrap around him. He means it, always means it too. Jungkook wants to keep a photo of you in his wallet, wants to always remember the sweet sounds of your laugh, the playful scrunch of your nose when he tells a lame joke, the psychotic way you bite into your ice cream. How do you make every single thing you do look like the most effortless, beautiful thing he has ever seen.
A shuddering breath slips past your swollen lips as he sinks further into you, thick cock stretching you apart in the most delicious burn. It has your tummy tensing up, fingernails digging into your own thighs until he spots the indents in your skin and grabs them in his own instead, lacing them together and bringing them to rest by your sides as he leans over you. A shared gasp is passed between you when he finally bottoms out, sinking into the hilt and freezing when your walls tighten around him.
“Fuck, you’re so big,” you mindlessly babble, gripping his hands tighter while you let yourself get used to his size. Jungkook really doesn’t need the ego boost, but it sounds so right coming from you, looking absolutely delectable underneath him, eyes glazed over and the cutest pout on your lips. He wants to hear more of those pretty sounds you make, slowly inching back out, feeling the glide of your walls against his cock before he’s thrusting back into you.
It sends a shock down your spine, sparking up your skin, as he repeats it again, low grunts meeting your ears until he’s fucking into you with fluid hips, skin slapping together each time. A smirk pulls at his lips when your thigh lifts up, hooking over his waist when the head of his cock curves just right inside of you. 
“Feel good baby?” he rasps out, blonde hair swinging around his face in time with his thrusts, jaw tense as the warmth blossoms inside him each time your walls spasm around his cock. 
“Y-yes,” you can barely utter, breathless and stuttering, hips rutting up into his in search of more. Desperation looks good on you, whiny cries spilling from your mouth and bringing him closer to you, brows pinched together as you plead for him to go faster, harder until you’re an absolute mess beneath him.
His lips press against yours once more, swallowing each of your cries when he picks up the pace, pounding into you so hard you have to pry your hands free from his to place behind your head to not get rocked into the car door. A muffled laugh is shared when he takes note, hips not slowing down in the slightest, knowing you were enjoying his roughness by the fluttering of your walls.
“Love your pussy,” he moans, kissing down your neck and licking the previous hickey he had sucked on your skin. A gentle nip of his teeth is delivered to the juncture of your neck before he moves on with a chuckle, fingers gently playing with the straps of your dress, something you don’t take note of due to the intoxicating roll of his hips. You don’t notice what he’s doing until your dress is yanked down and he’s groaning at the sight of your tits, totally bare for him to admire.
“Your tits too,” he adds with a smile, pressing soft kisses around the swell of your chest, puffs of laughter felt on your skin when your hand tangles into his hair and leads him directly where he needs to be. 
“What about my personality?” you joke, back arching as his cock reaches deeper inside of you when you spread your thighs further apart. 
“Mm, it’s top tier babe.” His lips wrap around your nipple as the words leave his mouth, warm tongue flicking against it while his hips never slow, silver charm of his necklace sliding off your chest from the movement. Jungkook loves your personality just as much and he hopes he’s made that obvious, entirely enjoying himself whenever he was with you. This point of view was just a definite plus.
Your eyes fall shut now, fully immersed in the feeling of it all, the pleasure wrapping around you tighter each time he hits the right spots inside of you, grinding into the sweet patch of nerves that leaves you writhing around. With a slight pop he’s lifting his mouth from your nipple, taking a moment to admire the pebbled bud covered in a sheen of his saliva.
“Kookie,” you whimper when you begin to feel the first wave of ecstasy flaring within you, coil tightening up with each deliberate roll of his hips. Jungkook knew what he was doing, practiced thrusts filling you up perfectly with each wet squelch. It makes you realize that you’ll always crave this. Now that you’ve seen Jungkook like this, face slightly sweaty as he pants above you, filthy moans reaching your ears, cock splitting you open just the way you craved, you’ll never want anything else again.
“Shit, you just got so tight.” It comes out as a strained gasp, his own eyes rolling back when you deliver a harsh yank to his hair, other hand clinging onto his shoulder when his pelvis rubs against your sensitive clit. “You gonna cum for me?”
Another mumbled cry of his name sounds like music to his ears, chest arching up until your tits are pressed against the soft fabric of his shirt, hips twitching from the beginning signs of your orgasm creeping up on you. “Fuck, I’m close. Please,” you don’t even know what you’re begging for, heady with pleasure, moans swirling in the thick air surrounding you.
“Don’t worry. I got you.” A tender kiss is placed to your lips, large palm sliding down your body until his fingers meet your swollen clit. The intoxicating warmth of your walls has him groaning into your lips, feeling them tighten around his cock as he rolls your clit between his fingers, jolts of pleasure shooting through you and aiding in pushing you headfirst into a lust-filled daze. He can feel you gush around his length, arousal dripping from your entrance and soaking into the car seat beneath you, leaving a stain in its wake, but it fills Jungkook with pride to know you were this much of a mess because of him.
“Ah, right there,” you cry, gasping lewdly when he repeats it, keeping the same rhythm of his hips, never slowing his teasing fingers with the perfect amount of pressure you swear you forgot how to breathe. Jungkook looks absolutely entranced with you, taking in each trembling breath, analyzing each of your movements to ingrain into his mind forever.
“S-shit,” he chokes out when your walls get impossibly tighter around him, sucking him further into your heat each time he pulls out, thigh hooked around his waist keeping him as close as you could. Your head is thrown back onto the cushion, mouth dropped open in a silent moan as the warmth brews inside of you, finally spilling over with a final flick to your clit, released with a shout of his name.
He doesn’t think his name has ever sounded better, raspy and urgent in the filthiest way as you cum around him, body tensing up briefly before your back is arching up when you cry out. The euphoric sensation of your walls squeezing his cock has his own release speeding towards him, spurred on by each twitch and mewl you let out from sensitivity, eyes glassy and spent as you look up at him. 
His eyes are locked onto yours, feeling how easily he glides into your messy cunt with the obscene amount of wetness that creamed his cock. Your face is giving him a look so tender it makes his heart skip, twisting inside of him as your hands softly cup his cheeks. “Wanna see you cum Jungkook, please.”
The soft touch of your hands has him melting above you, cute bunny teeth biting onto his lower lips as his face scrunches up, hips continuing to piston into you, slowly losing their grace as his need to cum takes over. A needy whine of your name makes you tighten around him, ignoring the slight throb of sensitivity that comes with it, loving how vulnerable he looks above you while he nears his orgasm. His mind is floating now as he gasps, harsh thrusts into you that jostle your body, stuttering for a few seconds before his mouth drops  open with an unabashed moan of your name.
“Fuck, fuck, baby,” he whines out, desperately slotting his lips against yours as he fills up the condom in warm spurts of cum. Your noses knock together in his urgency, harsh pants of breath felt on your skin as he continues to shallowly thrust into you, hips coming to a halt once he’s finally spent, tender lips pecking your mouth once more before slowly pulling back with a dazed smile.
A brief moment is shared between you, dopey smiles on your faces as you take it all in, realizing that you had in fact convinced him to rail you in his back seat. Jungkook places a tenderhearted kiss to the tip of your nose before shyly readjusting your dress to cover your boobs, acting as respectful as he could, as if he hadn’t just made you see stars with the orgasm he gave you. 
With a small breath, he’s sliding out of your warmth, eyes focusing on the absolute mess between your thighs, something he has to look away from to prevent his thoughts from steering back towards inappropriate. Instead, he unrolls the condom and adjusts himself back into his jeans, once again reaching across your body to lean over towards the glove box to grab tissues.
A teasing smile is on your face when he very gently cleans you up before helping you slide back into your adorable pink underwear, pulling your dress back down like nothing ever happened.
“I still want to give you romance. The right way.” His words make you sit up, raking your hands through your hair to tame the hot mess it surely became. Jungkook’s eyes look soft as he stares at you, lips pressed together earnestly as he softly rubs the skin of your thighs.
“I’d like that a lot, Jungkook.” With a small kiss to his cheek he’s relaxing again, a smile spreading on his lips when you speak again. “Not that I didn’t totally enjoy this entire date as it is, but if you wanna wine and dine me, I’m not going to say no.”
He laughs now, that hearty laugh that makes your own smile hurt your cheeks and has your stomach flipping like it has been all day. Then his eyes focus on the windows, wide in awe as he takes note of how fogged up they are, barely able to see the dimly lit parking lot outside. “Oh fuck, if anyone’s outside they definitely know we fucked in here.”
“Yeah, I’m not getting back out,” you decide, choosing to shimmy over the center console and onto the passenger seat. The act of having sex in the backseat of a car in public was definitely hot, but having to step out and potentially face your consequences was a hard no. Jungkook’s car was the safe space so you’d be staying here. 
The yellow bunny comes into view as you navigate your way onto the seat, your hands grabbing the plushie from it’s spot, laughing when you see the way Jungkook had positioned it. “Why is he staring out the window?”
Jungkook follows behind you with a grunt, knee knocking harshly into the steering wheel and setting off the horn briefly as he hunkers into the driver’s seat. “He was staring right at me!”
“Jungkook, it's a stuffed animal.”
He huffs as he turns the car on, instantly cracking the windows and turning on the air conditioner to clear up the fogged windows. “Hell no, I’ve seen Toy Story. I’m not risking it.” Even as he drives off, focused on getting out of the parking lot as quickly as possible, he still joins in as you cackle at him, bunny placed on your lap.
“So, where are you taking me for romance, Concrete King?” His eyebrows wiggle at the title, hand reaching across to rest on your thigh, giving the flesh a soft squeeze.
“You’ll just have to wait and see.” You sigh at his words, settling comfortably into the seat as you stare at him with those same heart shaped eyes. 
Jungkook's own heart is currently somersaulting in his chest when he meets your gaze, desperately wanting to keep you close, experience the rest of the seasons with you before coming back full circle and repeating it all over again in a never ending cycle. But the summer is still young, and you make it feel endless, leave him believing in summer romance so sticky and sweet, clinging to his skin in the best way. He knows only time will tell how this plays out, but his mind hopes for the best, willing to let it unfold the way it’s meant to be.
You feel the same way, and when you sneak your hand under his, tangling your fingers together and having your clasped hands resting on your thighs instead, there’s only one thing you know you’re certain about. Even if by the time the seasons changed and you were somehow no longer holding his hand as the leaves covered the floor in an array of colors, you’ll always cherish the day the blonde boy with too many tattoos and a tacky hawaiian shirt landed a trick in your honor.
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ot7always · 10 months ago
Ignorantly, Yours
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Word Count: 10.6k
Pairing: Alpha!Jimin x Omega!Reader
Genre: Wolf!AU, Best Friends to Lovers!AU; fluff, smut, angst
Warnings: dom!Jimin, sub!reader, A/B/O dynamics, heat sex, fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk (including a bit of possessiveness), marking, creampie, hair pulling, degradation, praise, rough sex, multiple orgasms
Rating: 18+
Summary:  You never could have expected your best friend to show up at your apartment right as you were about to go into heat, but when he did, something in you just wouldn’t let him go.
A/N: Truly, this was never supposed to be more than drabble. Which truly became a nuisance once it grew a lot and I had to go back and change a lot of things during editing. This is my first fic with some sort of supernatural element to it, and I had a lot of fun! I hope you guys enjoy, and please let me know what you think!
Reposted without the header gif and without any links or taglist. Sorry for any inconvenience if you were already looking at the first post. I will reblog with the taglist shortly.
Maybe it should have been embarrassing.
Maybe it was, 5 years ago when the habit first started.
5 years ago, when you’d had your first pre-heat. When the world had quickly become too overwhelming, your nose unused to the myriad of scents that assaulted you in your sensitivity. Your skin feeling so raw that even the clothes on your back felt uncomfortable.
It was then, in your childhood bedroom, amidst everything else, you recognized a scent that accompanied you through your life for as long as you could remember. A scent that felt like home, felt like warm days under the sun and shared laughter under blankets at midnight.
Your nose had led you to the bottom drawer of your dresser, your hands digging through the mess of fabric there until you pulled out an orange hoodie. You didn’t remember ever having it, and it looked small enough to have been from years ago – maybe even from before he presented.
But as you pulled it out of that drawer, the scent that might have been faint to you any other day filled your nostrils. A blueberry and pine scent that left you feeling calmer instantly, safer. Whether that had to do more with your friendship or his alpha status wasn’t a thought that crossed your mind. All you knew at the time was that it made everything better – he made everything better, even when he wasn’t there.
That marked the first time you laid in your bed, curling yourself around that small piece of comfort, your face shoved into the soft fabric. The peace that washed over you then was addicting, and any thought of giving up that feeling was unfathomable.
And if Jimin noticed how you were covered in his own scent when he saw you after every heat since that day, he didn’t say a thing.
You missed him a lot.
It wasn’t as though his university was that far away, and you should have grown used to it after several years of living apart for most of the year. Weekend visits were hardly enough when you’d spent more time together than apart growing up.
It definitely didn’t feel like enough when you were lying in bed, surrounded by the products of your skillful swiping over the years during Jimin’s visits. Hoodies, t-shirts – you had at least a dozen by now. All of which were tossed across your bed alongside you, your upper body already clad in one of his oversized hoodies.
When your pre-heat started affecting you yesterday, you’d already emailed your professors to tell them you wouldn’t be able to make it to class for the week. They, of course, understood – every university accommodated for their students to get a week off about every 3 months for this exact reason.
You were already overcome by exhaustion, Jimin’s scent wafting around the room lulling you into a sleepy daze.
It was common for an omega to nest amongst an alpha’s scent before their heat, though said alpha would typically be their partner.
It wasn’t something you liked to think on very often. Something like this couldn’t be that uncommon, right? After all, he was your first friend, and that went beyond being an alpha or omega. Besides, if it bothered him, wouldn’t he have already called you out for it by now? Wouldn’t he have said something when he realized that even when you’d started spending every heat with an alpha, his scent was still somewhere in there?
You tried not to worry too much about it. It didn’t matter, anyway.
Based on how you were feeling, you knew your heat would probably be here within 2 or 3 days. Which meant you should probably call someone soon to ask them to help you through it. It was normal practice to ask a friend to help you with your heat, but it was a line you’d never crossed with Jimin. Rejection was never something you dealt with well, and you were too afraid to put him, of all people, in that position. Knowing him, he would agree even if he didn’t want to.
Who, then? Namjoon? Hoseok? Both have agreed before, though the notion of crossing your room to pick up the phone you’d so foolishly left on the dresser was severely unappealing.
Instead, you let your eyes flutter shut, your face nuzzling into a blue and red scarf Jimin had forgotten at your apartment last winter. As the tranquility washed over you, your mind drifted closer and closer to sleep, warm and cozy and surrounded by Jimin’s scent.
Until the doorbell rang through your apartment.
At first you elected to ignore it, hoping whoever it was would get the hint and go away. But when it sounded out 2 more times after you hadn’t moved in several minutes, you groaned.
Wasn’t it bad etiquette to do this to someone? Surely that had to be written in a handbook somewhere.
With heavy limbs, you dragged yourself out of bed, flipping the hood up on your (well, Jimin’s) hoodie. As much as it may have been a bad idea to answer the door by yourself in pre-heat, your scent enveloped by an alpha’s would be enough to ward off unwanted advances. Though there were definitely bad people in the world, it took a truly insane person to go after an omega scented by an alpha.
When you made it to the door, you took a deep breath, preparing yourself to ream out whoever was on the other side. While you could sense someone’s presence there, every apartment was insulated, scent-wise, for protection. You didn’t know what to expect.
But of every possibility, when you opened the door, you didn’t expect to get assaulted by the very scent you’d been basking in only minutes ago. You didn’t notice how his eyes widened or how his pupils dilated when your scent hit him, too preoccupied by your body’s visceral reaction.
The full force of his scent almost had your knees buckling, your eyelids growing heavier as every single part of you instinctively yearned to curl up into him. Maybe your heat was closer than you thought.
When you were finally able to focus your eyes on him, his teeth were biting into his bottom lip, the hand holding an overnight bag clenched so hard his knuckles were white.
You didn’t give him the chance to say anything before you were stumbling forward, colliding messily with him, only focused on getting as close to him as possible.
You barely heard a mumbled ‘shit,’ not registering that he backed you into your apartment until you heard the door slam, his bag hitting the floor.
“Jimin,” you mumbled, your hands grasping at his shirt, eyes closed as you shoved your face into his neck, sighing happily when you were finally as close to the source of your happiness as possible.
But much to your discontent, he pushed you from him, keeping you an arms’ length away. The whimper you let out in response sounded pathetic even to your own ears, but every cell in your body was screaming to get as close to him as possible.
“Y/N,” he said firmly, the unusual hardness in his tone snapping you out of your daze slightly, wide eyes fixing onto his face. He audibly gulped at the glazed look in your eyes, before continuing. “You’re in heat.”
“I’m not,” you whined, trying to push against his hands, but he was stronger than you were.
“You will be,” he responded, letting out an incredulous sigh. “Fuck. I meant to surprise you but I forgot what the date was, I’m so sorry.”
“But I’m not yet,” you complained, changing tactics and instead aiming to shove your nose into the wrists near your shoulders. When your hair swished with your movement, sending a whiff of shampoo and your scent Jimin’s way, he groaned loudly.
“God, I can’t be here, I should go,” he said through gritted teeth. But when he started leaning down to pick his bag back up, you panicked.
“NO!” you yelled, launching yourself at him with your whole weight, not at all concerned about how he stumbled back in surprise. Your hands gripping onto his waist, you looked at him with wide eyes, your irises barely visible around the black of your dilated pupils. “Please don’t leave.”
His composure visibly cracked at the desperation on your face, but the sensation of your hands trembling in their grip on him brought him back to reality. “I can’t stay, I know that you know that-”
“Why?” you cried, your bottom lip trembling. The logical part of you deep inside knew you were being unreasonable, but even that part of you was a slave to instinct. All you knew was that Jimin got you through every pre-heat, and here Jimin was in front of you now. He’d never seen you like this, not ever in the last 5 years. And now that he has, nothing has ever been more unappealing than the thought of him walking out your front door.
He was very clearly taking shallow breaths, eventually bringing his own wrist to his nose to try to drown out everything else. Based on the low grunt he let out, it didn’t seem to be working very well.
“You smell like you’re going to go into heat at any moment, fuck, I can’t,” he panted, every part of him resisting the urge to grab you and scent you until there was absolutely no question whether you were his.
Except you weren’t his.
“I-I...” he stuttered, the scent of you not only clinging to him, but everywhere throughout the apartment occupying every part of his brain. “I need to go, I’ll call someone for you, Hoseok or-”
But that was definitely the wrong thing to say, because you sprung back from him as though you’ve been burned. When you looked at him as though he’d betrayed you, he knew he’d messed up.
“Why? You’re already here,” you spat out. “Don’t go,” you finished in a much weaker voice, pleading gaze fixing onto his.
A flash of pain went through him when he saw you hug yourself around the middle, as though to appear smaller. As though to protect yourself. From him.
“You don’t know what you’re asking of me.”
“I know exactly what I’m asking of you!” you wailed, the space between you feeling wider than it’s ever been.
“I can’t,” he repeated, a tinge of desperation making its way into his tone. Why was this so hard? From what he knew about omega heats and pre-heats, without a partner or relationship you shouldn’t have cared this much about which alpha stayed with you.
“Aren’t we friends? Can’t you just stay?” you begged, eyes brimming with unshed tears. Something about him trying to leave felt like a hole was being ripped through your chest, even if you’d understand why any other day.
“Of course we’re friends,” he said incredulously, a conflicted expression on his face. He knew exactly what you meant, exactly what was implied within that statement. When something like desire crossed his gaze, you felt a dash of hope bloom within you. “But...”
And it was crushed just like that. “Why don’t you want me when I want you? What’s wrong with me?” you sobbed, the tears finally spilling from your eyes as you dropped to your knees.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
The smell of an omega in distress was always something that set off an alpha’s protective instinct.
But the knowledge that he was the one who caused it brought forth an ugly wrenching in his gut.
For all the required readings Jimin had done in the course of his life, nothing had ever taught him what to do when the girl you’re secretly in love with was on the floor crying because you refused to fuck her through her heat.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. God, did he want to.
But you weren’t there begging for his heart or his love or his devotion – you were begging for his body. Which wasn’t the problem. It wasn’t that he was offended. The problem was that he wanted more than this, and that right now was most definitely not the time to have that conversation.
And it’s not that he didn’t think you knew what you wanted. He knew you knew that you were asking for sex, but he also knew that was all you were asking for. Pre-heat was about preparing for sex, not romance.
As much as a heat could completely fog an omega’s brain, in pre-heat they could still make coherent decisions. It was typically a time spent preparing for heat, a time to call an alpha or to prepare for the much more painful option of suffering alone. They were typically in a perpetual state of exhaustion, bodies crying out for sleep to save up energy for their heat.
But more importantly, it was a time where omegas were at their most emotionally vulnerable, where they gave in to instinct. A time where they surrounded themselves in the things that made them feel safest, most at home.
He knew – he knew you used his scent to get through your pre-heat, but he never thought it meant that much. You were his oldest friend, and the fact that you found comfort in his scent was never something he questioned. He was an alpha, and you scented each other often – it made sense from a biology standpoint.
And – oh.
It hit him then that this was more than an alpha’s refusal to help their friend through their heat. This was more than a refusal for sex.
This was your biggest security blanket pushing you away at your most vulnerable, the person you trusted most to keep you safe leaving you when you were begging him to stay.
He really, really fucked up by coming here.
He should have checked the dates properly in the first place, and now he’d have to deal with the consequences. There was an unbelievably high chance that if he walked out that door, you’d have a breakdown, and he couldn’t just break your heart by leaving now.
Even if it ended up breaking his own. Even if you ended up thinking nothing of it, and he would never be able to erase the memory from his brain.
Because you were begging him to stay out of instinct, out of need. Not out of love. Not that he knew of, not the kind he wanted, at least.
But there was no reason to go there or question you about it, because he knew you’d say anything to make him stay, even if it wasn’t true. Not because you were a liar, but because that’s what your body would push you to do right now.
Knowing that the smell of his own panic would just set you off more, he took a couple deep breaths before falling to his knees in front of you. He had to force down the rising upset in his chest at the scent of your tears, every part of him screaming at himself for upsetting you this deeply.
“Hey,” he called out softly, his hands reaching out to gently pull your hands away from where they were hiding your face. At the sight of your red-rimmed eyes and wet cheeks, his heart tugged. “Look at me.” He slipped a hand forward to cradle your head, brushing against the hair at the nape of your neck. He hoped so badly that he could be a comfort to you, even when he was the one who hurt you in the first place.
He waited almost a minute for you to look up, doing his best to calm you in that time. When you finally raised your eyes to look at him, the fear in your expression was something he’d only ever seen a few times in his life. You were an expert at putting on a brave face for the world, and seeing the uncensored pain displayed there punched him in the gut.
“Baby,” he cooed, pulling you into his arms. He carefully maneuvered your face into the crook of his neck, smiling as you melted into his hold, a content sigh leaving you. He wrapped his arms around you, face rubbing into your hair as he stopped resisting the urge to scent you. He ignored the shiver that ran down his spine at your scent that only seemed to be growing stronger.
The two of you stayed like that for several minutes, your body so limp in his grasp that he had to keep both of you upright himself. He couldn’t tell whether you were awake, goosebumps rising to the surface of his skin as your nose brushed against one of the most sensitive parts of his body.
But when he stood up, wanting to get you somewhere more comfortable than the floor, he felt every muscle in your body tense, a low whine leaving your throat. Your hands grasped onto his shirt. “Jimin-”
“Shh,” he soothed, continuing to nuzzle into you as he stood you both up. “I’m not leaving.”
“You’re not?” you repeated, muffled into his shoulder.
“I’m not.”
“Promise.” He scratched lightly at your scalp as the other hand stroked up and down the length of your back, humming when you finally relaxed again, your arms wrapping around to tug him as close as possible. “Good girl.”
Something in him awakened when he heard the hitch of your breath at his words, but he shoved it down. He had to keep a hold of himself while he still had the chance – because once you were in heat, there would be no rest for either of you. Not when it was taking his entire focus to hold himself back right now and it was only your pre-heat.
“I’m gonna take you to your room, okay?” he asked quietly. When you nodded, he scooped you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, head lolling sleepily against his shoulder.
You were very clearly exhausted, and guilt gnawed away at him for it. The emotional ups and downs of the past half hour must have taken even more out of you – while you tended to be quiet, you were never this quiet, not with him. You seemed to be asleep, steady exhales hitting the skin of his neck.
When he entered your room, his heart skipped in his chest at the sight of his belongings strewn across your mattress, a you-sized gap in the middle where you must have been laying. He couldn’t help the pride swelling in his chest, the possessive part of him thrilled at the notion of you burying yourself in his scent.
He supposed he should be happy you were asleep. Omegas tended to be self-conscious about their nest, which was why he was surprised you agreed to let him take you here so easily. The idea that you felt comfortable enough to let him in here without a fight brought forth a feeling in his gut that felt suspiciously like butterflies.
Easing off the shoes he’d never had the chance to remove at the front door, he brought you both down into the bed, careful not to jostle your form. He laid you down together, your body atop his, heart melting at your tiny noise of content.
He had to bite back a moan when you nuzzled further into his neck, your lips brushing against his skin.
Get it together, Jimin.
He didn’t know if he would ever be relaxed enough to sleep when you were on top of him already smelling like every sinful desire he’s ever had. His cock shouldn’t have been stirring when you looked so innocent, your hands curled up ever-so-slightly under his shirt. And despite everything in his mind telling him that he would regret this, his entire body was screaming in anticipation for this entire weekend.
This wouldn’t be the first time he’s helped an omega through their heat, but everything was different because this was you. Someone he cared about, someone he loved, and he knew you loved him too, whether it was in the way he wanted or not. Heat flared in him at the thought of you wet and desperate only for him, begging to be filled. He knew you’d be out of your mind with lust, and even before seeing it he knew it would be the most beautiful sight he’s ever set eyes upon.
Get a hold of yourself, Jimin.
It was absolutely no use to contemplate these things now, especially not when the scent of his arousal might wake you up and set you off prematurely. You both needed rest – he’d be damned if he didn’t make this the best heat you’d ever had just because he was tired.
And so he wrapped his arms around your middle, willing arousal from his brain and replacing it with thoughts of sleep. Luckily, his body must have been able to sense his need for rest before the upcoming days, and sleep found him easier than anticipated.
You awoke to your back hitting your mattress, the first thing you noticed being that your body felt like it was being burned alive. But when you inhaled, the scent of pure alpha overtook all thought, brain incapable of anything other than unadulterated need, arousal shooting to your core almost instantaneously.
When your eyes shot open, fire lit within you when they immediately locked onto Jimin’s dark gaze, his body hovering over yours like he was about to pounce. When he took in the neediness in your eyes, his lip upturned in a salacious smirk, stare burning holes into you.
“Rise and shine, little wolf,” he drawled, hands locking onto your ankles and dragging you down the bed until your face was right below his.
You shivered despite yourself at the predatory expression on his face, holding back the whine that threatened to escape. You felt incapable of speaking, every intake of breath only fogging your mind further, the fire in you becoming so potent it was painful.
You couldn’t help the keening whimper that escaped when he roughly fisted a hand into the hair at the nape of your neck, yanking until your entire neck was on display. You gasped and arched into his body with want as he leaned in to inhale deeply right above your collarbone. The feral growl he let out at your scent had you shuddering, trembling hands trying desperately to pull him closer, but he didn’t relent.
“Please,” you begged, shoving your body upwards as much as possible, desperate to feel his body against your own. At the feeling of his canines brushing against the skin of your neck gently, you felt new wetness rush from you. Your desperation was only growing exponentially with every passing moment, and it felt like if you didn’t get touched soon, you would surely die.
“You smell so fucking good,” he snarled, voice raspier than you’d ever heard it before. He sounded almost pained, and it only set you off further. Everything in you ached for his touch, your cunt clenching around nothing despite Jimin not even having touched you yet. You needed it – needed to be touched, you needed him to quell the ache.
“Hurts,” you gasped out, still trying and failing to grind against his body above you.
“Aw, baby, I’m sorry,” he cooed, pressing his free palm down onto your clothed centre. His breath hitched as you started forcefully grinding against it immediately, a choked whine slipping from your lips at the sudden pressure right where you needed it most.
“Alpha...” you moaned, rutting shamelessly against his hand as you pushed further against the hand in your hair, baring more of the soft expanse of your neck. Your eyes shut as pleasure rocked your system, but it wasn’t enough. You needed more, his cock in your drenched cunt, his nails raking down your body as he utterly ravished you. You whined loudly at the thought, arousal slipping from you. It was clear he noticed when he hissed.
“Fuck, look at you. You’re dripping, so fucking desperate,” he panted, somehow sounding almost as ruined as you. “I’m gonna fuck this cunt senseless, fill you up so good you’ll never ask for anyone else again. Do you want that, little omega? Want me to make you mine?”
Any other time you might have questioned his possessive words, but any rational part of your brain was long gone. No, all that existed was you, Jimin, and your excruciating need to be filled.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you cried, whimpering at the imagery he put in your head. You wanted nothing more than to be his bitch, to take his cock and his seed and his knot. “Fuck me, please.”
“You beg so nicely,” he breathed, and you keened at the praise. You gasped as he sat back and quite literally ripped the shirt from your body, following suit with the rest of your clothes. You didn’t have it in you to complain, not when he was yanking your legs apart, gaze laser-focused onto your centre. “Don't worry, baby, your alpha is gonna take care of you, okay?”
You only nodded furiously, hips bucking upward suddenly as Jimin wasted no more time, two fingers smearing through your heat before thrusting abruptly into you. You finally felt some sort of relief at being filled, but it wasn’t enough. The stretch wasn’t satisfying enough, and your desire for more only amplified. But it seemed he knew this, adding another finger wordlessly.
“God, this cunt is so fucking hungry for me,” he growled, pistoning his fingers in and out roughly before grinding the heel of his hand into your clit.
You cried out as pleasure reared on you embarrassingly quickly, but no part of you wanted to cum without his cock inside you, dragging against your sensitive walls.
“Jimin...” you moaned, arching your back as you sought to push yourself closer to the source of your pleasure. He almost groaned at the sound of his name coming so wantonly from your lips. “Want you, please.”
“Yeah? You want to get stuffed?”
The garbled response you gave was nowhere near coherent, but it didn’t take a genius to see what you wanted. When he gave a low chuckle and pulled himself from his sweatpants, you started salivating immediately. He was girthy, vein visibly spanning the underside beneath his hand as he palmed himself. The head looked almost purple, the tip leaking. You needed it inside you.
Before you even realized it yourself, you were turning over onto your front. By the time you’d planted your face down, ass up, Jimin was already growling, roughly digging his fingers into your asscheeks. As several more seconds went by without his cock in you, you arched your back further, whining as he only dug his fingertips in harder.
“Such a good little wolf,” he crooned, hissing when your arousal dripped from your pussy to the bed. “Getting yourself so nice and ready for me. You need cock that badly? Can’t wait for it?”
You could have cried when you finally felt the tip of his cock at your entrance, but you didn’t have time to do or say anything before he shoved all the way in to the hilt without warning.
You must have screamed then, but you hardly noticed anything apart from the way he set a quick pace, hardly noticed when the tears left your eyes, body swimming in relief and euphoria. Every snap of his hips brought forth a moan from your lips, fingers digging helplessly into the sheets by your head.
“Tell me how it feels,” he snarled, moving to hold your hips up when the overwhelming pleasure left you unable to do it yourself.
It was all you could do to whimper, body feeling as though it was in the clouds as your walls clamped down on Jimin’s cock. He was stretching you so well, the slight burn nothing compared to the waves of pleasure he was sending through your entire being. You took a breath to respond to him once you registered what he said, but when his cock brushed against that spot inside you, it only left you as a choked moan.
“This needy cunt just sucks me right in, huh?” he groaned when your walls clenched down on him again, as though to trap him inside you. But it made no difference to him, his thrusts only continuing, fast and precise as your walls fluttered around him, whines falling from your lips. Recalling how responsive you’d been to praise earlier, he kept talking. “Doing such a good job for me, baby,” he hummed, smirking when he felt the shuddering of your body beneath his hands. “So fucking perfect for me, taking this cock so well.”
His words shot through you like fire, and combined with the drag of him inside you, you were propelled toward your end.
“Alpha...” you whimpered, pushing back onto his cock, a particularly rough thrust pulling a shout from your lips. You were so close to slipping over the edge, the squeezing of your walls around him more and more insistent as you approached your end. “Please.” It was as though no other words existed in your vocabulary, but Jimin could read you perfectly well, as though he was made for you.
“What’s that, hm? Baby’s gonna cum?” he taunted before reaching around to rub at your clit. “Let go then, milk my cock. I want to hear you.”
The added stimulation was more than enough to propel you into your orgasm, your mouth agape as your walls clamped down on his cock. You distantly registered Jimin’s moans from above you as he held you up and fucked you through your it, the sparks of pleasure never-ending.
But while his thrusts became less harsh, they did not lower in their intensity whatsoever. And as the fog in your head receded some from your orgasm, you only felt that much more sensation as you regained your bearings.
Rather than a mindless slave to pleasure and want, with your brain partly yours again you could truly feel. Feel the cotton of the sheets where they were clenched between your fists, feel the slight strain in your knees as they dug into the mattress, feel Jimin’s fingers anchored onto your hips, as though you would float away if he let go.
You could truly feel every drag of his cock against you, every grind, and when he perfectly maneuvered to hit against your g-spot, you were left breathless once again.
But with your increased coherence, your body craved more than just cock – you wanted closeness, wanted Jimin’s body against your own, his groans in your ear, his chest against your back.
“Jimin,” you called out, voice needy but noticeably more present.
His thrusts slowed but didn’t stop. “Hm?”
Rather than attempt to formulate an answer, you blindly reached a hand in his direction and made a grabbing motion. It was accompanied by your best impression of some sort of demanding noise, but you sounded like a spoiled brat even to your own ears.
He clearly didn’t mind though, huffing a laugh at your antics before coming down to your level, pressing some of his weight into your back as he nuzzled your neck.
“This what you want, baby?” he asked, wrapping his arms snugly around your middle. It would almost be cute, if not for the snap of his hips he opted to punctuate his question with.
You could only shiver and take it as he set a slow but intense pace, his cock slowly dragging out of you before he thrusted forward quickly in one single motion. But even in its intensity it was intimate, his lips tracing nonsensical patterns into the skin of your shoulder, his moans increasing in volume as you whined your pleasure.
His pace slowly but surely built you back up toward a second release, Jimin’s thrusts growing faster as he approached his own end. It wasn’t long before your moans were increasing in volume again, hips squirming beneath Jimin’s as that pressure in your abdomen only built and built.
“Gonna cum for me again, little wolf?” he growled directly into your ear, digging his fingers in close to your scalp and pulling your face up out of the sheets. No longer muffled, your moans were loud and unabashed, your pleasure surrendered entirely to him.
“I’m gonna fill this cunt up, gonna stretch you wide, is that what you want?”
As much as you were more coherent than last time, the effect his voice had on you was visceral, eyelids fluttering shut and goosebumps raising on your skin. When you only nodded with what little movement you could make within his grasp, he growled.
“Answer me!”
“Yes, yes!” you pleaded, eager to please. “Want you to fill me up, Jimin, please.”
“Such a good girl,” he moaned in response, moving to suck bruises into your neck. The thought of being marked by him for all to see only lit a new fire within you.
But when you felt the press of his canines brushing against the sensitive part of your neck, it was as though something in you snapped. You almost squealed as the orgasm rained down on you unexpectedly, something resembling ‘Jimin’ spilling from your lips, though you paid it no mind.
You were so lost in your pleasure you hardly noticed Jimin’s gruff yell from above you as he came, only registering it as his knot started to stretch you.
He shushed you gently as you whined, warmth still spilling into you as it finished inflating. Panting breathlessly against your back, he softly cupped your face as you caught your breath.
The stretch was more overwhelming than painful, every tiny movement seeming to shift his knot inside you enough to make you gasp. You should have grown used to the feeling by this point in your life, but it managed to catch you off guard every single time. You never felt ready for the immense stretch or the soreness that lingered between waves of your heat.
After several minutes of silence, breaths finally quieting, he spoke up.
“Are you okay?” he asked, hands reaching to keep you from squirming too much under him, knowing you’d only make the discomfort worse. “Relax for me.”
You nodded in response, letting yourself release the tension from your limbs as he continued to gently nose at your neck. His scent washed over you, but in this brief limbo between waves of your heat it spurred only calmness rather than arousal.
For you, at least, the first wave was always the worst in terms of self-control and mindedness. That was why it was essential for omegas to share their heat only with someone they could trust – if not a partner, then a friend. While omegas were at their most emotionally vulnerable during pre-heat, they were at their most physically vulnerable during the heat itself. In theory, Jimin could have done whatever he wanted, and you would have begged for it.
He hummed in approval when you went still beneath him, rolling the two of you onto your side so that you were no longer supporting his weight.
“Sleepy?” he inquired softly as he watched you stifle a yawn.
You only nodded again, reaching for Jimin’s hand to make him wrap it around you more snugly, pressing yourself as close to him as possible. You shivered as his knot shifted with your movement, though it didn’t ache as much as it did initially. You felt so full, his cock still half-hard within you, release still painting your walls with nowhere to go.
You let your eyes shut, soreness and exhaustion taking up residence temporarily before the next wave. As much as a heat could feel so intense it hurt, you found that the time between each wave was truly the most difficult. It was the time where every ounce of muscle pain and sleep deprivation hit you, but it was also the time where, to put it simply, if you didn’t recharge you were fucked.
Heats were strenuous on the body, and it unfortunately wasn’t abnormal for omegas to be brought to the emergency room from dehydration and malnutrition from their heat. That was why the medical professionals tended to encourage of-age omegas to spend their heats with a trusted partner – it was just safer altogether. It was difficult to push past the fog of exhaustion to take care of yourself when you were on your own, though not impossible.
A tiny whine was the only acknowledgment you gave when you felt his knot go down enough to slip from you. You made a noise of complaint as Jimin pulled from your side, but he quickly returned to you, wiping away the mess that was now between your thighs.
“If I help you, can you sit up?”
After hearing your noise of affirmation, he pulled you up so that your back rested against the headboard, careful not to move you too quickly. But despite that, you couldn’t help the lightheaded feeling that came with the motion, reaching out to steady yourself on Jimin’s arm.
When he took in your rapid blinking and unfocused eyes, his concern grew exponentially. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Tired,” you mumbled, leaning into his touch when he moved to stroke your face.
“Let’s eat something and then we can nap, okay?”
He moved away from you quickly to grab things from under your bed. One of the first things they taught omegas after presenting was that it was essential to keep a food and drink store in your room during your heat. One of the most important parts of pre-heat was not only securing a heat partner if desired, but also packing enough nutrient-rich food and drinks to last through your heat if you’re unable to leave the room.
You hadn’t realized you’d dozed off until Jimin’s hand on your shoulder startled you awake. He took your hand in his own only to wrap your fingers around an energy bar he’d opened for you.
“Eat,” he commanded, though the soft, caring tone characteristic of Jimin never left his voice.
The thought of putting in effort to do anything was unappealing, but once you started, you realized how famished you were. When you finished your first bar within moments, he handed you a second, eating some for himself at the same time.
He didn’t waste any time with handing you a Gatorade bottle once you were finished eating, ensuring you could hold it yourself before getting his own.
As much as he seemed to be in a rush, this was a better safe than sorry type of situation. While sometimes you could squeeze in some sleep between waves of your heat, it sometimes felt like one huge gamble in terms of time. You’ve had downtimes of as little as 10 minutes in the past, so you were grateful that he was hurrying you along.
When he noticed you stopped drinking, he grabbed it from you to place it on the nightstand a safe distance away from the bed.
“Do you want anything else?” he asked, shoving all of the garbage into a bag to deal with another time.
He turned around quickly, thinking you were going into your next wave, but froze at the sight of you simply blinking up at him sleepily.
He bit down on his lip to suppress a fond smile when you reached for his hand, severely hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt.
He let you tug him forward, settling beside you in bed before pulling you securely into his side.
As much as you might have loved to talk or quietly cuddle, you were out like a light as soon as you laid your head down on his shoulder, face tucked securely into his neck.
The next two days went by in a blur. You never tended to remember very many specific moments from your heats besides that you felt good, and were definitely sore after. The combination of physical and mental exhaustion along with the mind-numbing desire didn’t seem to be conducive to proper brain function.
Fuck. Eat. Fuck. Eat. Nap. Rinse. Repeat.
“Kiss me,” you demanded, pulling Jimin down toward you by his shoulders.
From what you could tell, it was the last day of your heat, also making for the most coherent day. The consequences of not sating your heat on the last day were more uncomfortable than painful, and the sex almost resembled what it would any other day.
He obliged you easily, mouth meeting yours as he snapped his hips, filling you up and stretching you all in one stroke. He nipped at your lower lip as you moaned freely, arching your back to feel as much of his skin as possible.
You couldn’t help the increase in volume when he settled with his length in you, grinding his pubic bone into your clit. It seemed that Jimin was feeling similarly, both of you simply panting by each other's mouths rather than doing any sort of kissing like you’d intended.
It was only minutes before you felt the familiar tightening in your abdomen, Jimin groaning above you when he felt you clench around him. You whimpered as he sucked new bruises into the skin of your neck, a shiver making its way down your spine as he reached the soft skin below your ear.
But every part of you was screaming out for more.
“Mark me.”
Jimin froze instantly at your words, but it seemed that you weren’t properly considering the weight of your words, only urging him to continue his motions in search of your high.
A mark wasn’t permanent, but it was no small thing. More than a mark of “possession,” it was a mark of an alpha's care and loyalty, a mark of an omega’s trust. It was only something ever shared in serious relationships, and it would sometimes take partners years to reach that point.
“Jimin,” you whined when he ignored what you said. Every instinctive part of you wanted it so badly, your head subconsciously tipping back to give him easier access.
“Don’t you know what you’re saying?”
“I said no,” he snarled, speeding up the snap of his hips enough that you were shifting up the bed. “Tomorrow, when this is all over,” he panted above you, teeth bared, “Then we’ll talk.”
He didn’t let you get a word in edgewise, continuously pulling himself from you fully before abruptly sheathing himself to the hilt once again.
You were left gasping for breath, swimming in sensation as your abdomen tightened, all else forgotten for the time being.
When he shifted to one side, a hand dropping to rub circles into your clit, you saw white. Your nails sharply dug into the skin of Jimin’s back where they were held, waves of pleasure battering you nonstop as he continued his thrusts.
But it was only moments later that he seated himself into you fully, warmth spilling into you as his knot inflated for the nth time since your heat began. It didn’t leave you gasping the same way as the first time, but a groan still wrenched itself from your throat at the sensation.
As soon as his body collapsed onto yours, you knew that your heat was finally over. The feeling was inexplicable, almost as though a weight had been lifted from the back of your mind.
You might have addressed the words uttered from your mouth only moments before if not for the debilitating fatigue that filled every limb and every square inch of your brain.
So, against your best judgment on any other day, you knocked right out.
When you next awoke, it wasn’t because desire ripped you from slumber, nor was it because your scent set off Jimin enough to wake you.
In fact, you were alone in your bed, immediately cringing at the sight of all the questionable stains dotting the sheets.
Good thing you had a mattress pad.
You sat up, wincing as every muscle screamed in protest. From your neck all the way to your fingertips, everything hurt. You’d probably be feeling this for days. It definitely didn’t help that the stench of sex was so strong you could feel a headache coming on.
You didn’t have time to ponder on Jimin’s whereabouts before he was coming back in through the doorway, half-dressed with water in hand.
He sent you a smile when you met eyes, but it was lost on you because as soon as he was here, every interaction over the past few days flooded your mind at once. And this time, there were no hormones to mask proper thought.
You asked – no, begged – him to stay. Even when he told you no.
You’d practically thrown a tantrum, what was wrong with you? Since when did your pre-heat make you throw respect out the window?
He wasn’t here because he wanted to stay, he was here because you forced him to. He was here because you were pathetic enough to get on the floor and beg him to stay, and Jimin, for the life of him, didn’t know how to say no to people. How could he look at you right now?
“Y/N?” he called, sounding puzzled. He must be able to smell your rising distress coming off you in waves, but you paid him no mind as you continued to recall the past few days, hating yourself more and more with every passing second.
You’d basically forced him to stay with you and fuck you for nearly four days without ever talking about it before.
It was more difficult to put together the pieces of what happened in your heat, memories mostly a blur of pleasure and then sleep.
“Mark me.”
Your blood ran cold instantly.
Were you fucking insane? You dug your fingernails into your palms harshly to check if you were dreaming. Unluckily for you, you weren’t.
Was there any coming back from this? You couldn’t blame him if he could never look at you the same, if he never spoke to you again. Who would tell their heat partner – the first time they spent a heat together – to mark them?
It didn’t matter that you’d known each other since before you were even forming proper memories. It didn’t matter, because that wasn’t how this worked. You didn’t just ask your friends to mark you, no matter how much you loved each other.
A mark was something you shared with someone you intended to be lifelong partners with. Someone you’d dedicate your life to, someone you might want to have kids with someday.
God, what was wrong with you?
You didn’t notice his approach until a hand met your shoulder, too engrossed in staring at the floor as thoughts whirred in your head.
“What is it?” he asked, concern quickly turning into panic at finding you in this state with no explanation.
But it was as though with one touch, the floodgates broke, and angry tears started spilling from your eyes. Tears that had nothing to do with Jimin and everything to do with yourself.
He jumped back slightly in surprise, and you didn’t give him the chance to touch you again before you were furiously wiping the wetness from your face.
“God, are you okay? Did I hurt you?” he questioned frantically, hands returning to your shoulders as he angled his face to try to meet yours, but you only kept turning your head to avoid him. He looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself, whether to join you on the bed or continue hovering awkwardly from the bedside. “Talk to me, please-”
“Do you hate me?” you choked out, eyes fixed on a random, insignificant spot on the sheets.
That seemed to quiet him instantly. “Huh?”
“I forced you here,” you whispered, though it seemed that the words didn’t want to stop once they started, volume only rising as you carried on. “You came here to be nice and then you tried to leave and I didn’t let you. You said no so many times and I begged you to stay until you couldn’t say no anymore! I don’t even know what I was thinking, I guess I wasn’t thinking at all-”
“I’m so sorry, I don’t know how you must think of me right now but I wouldn’t blame you if you thought I was disgusting, I think I’m disgusting, god-”
“Hey, look at me,” he urged, prodding lightly at your chin until you raised your head enough to meet his gaze. When he saw your red eyes and miserable expression, it was as though a piece of himself broke. “I stayed because I wanted to.”
“You didn't, I remember you told me no, you ‘wanted to’ because I made you.”
“It’s not like that,” he replied, expression almost pained.
“Don’t lie to me to make me feel better,” you snarled, though it came off more broken than aggressive. “Stop trying to protect me, tell me when you’re mad at me!”
“I’m not mad at you.”
“You trust me, don’t you?”
The sudden question was enough to give you pause. “You know I do.”
He took a moment to settle onto the bed beside you, stretching out an arm to invite you in to lay with him. After only a moment of hesitation, you did.
“Then trust me when I say I wanted to stay,” he said firmly, stroking calming circles into your side. “You know I don’t like lying to you.”
It was true, he didn’t. Which summoned the question – if he wanted to stay, why did he refuse so many times? Were you sure he wasn’t lying now?
No – that wasn’t Jimin. Plus, you knew him so well that you doubted he would lie to you about something this serious, not when he was such an open book. But you didn’t have long to think about it before he piped up again.
“You asked me something yesterday,” he started, and you could hear in his tone that he was treading carefully.
You tensed up immediately when you processed his words, breath quickening as you anticipated what he was about to say. Was this the part where he told you he’s not mad he stayed, but he never wanted to speak to you again? You’d relaxed enough in the past few minutes that you’d almost forgotten about what you’d said yesterday. Almost.
“Why?” he asked simply.
Why. An obscenely loaded question contained within one 3-letter word. And yet, an answer wasn’t so easy.
“I don’t know,” you stalled.
“Don’t do that,” he scolded. “Really think. I know you, and I know you’d never be that nonchalant about a mark, ever. What changed?”
“Nothing changed!”
He only turned to give you a disapproving look before leaning his head back against the headboard and shutting his eyes. It was clear that he wasn’t going to make any more conversation until you properly pondered his question and gave him a real answer.
Did you even know why?
You wished you could say it just slipped out, that there was no other reason.
Maybe any other time you’ve said something questionable or downright stupid that would fly, but not for something like this.
Even at their drunkest, people didn’t ask their friends to marry them with the full intent of following through and starting life as an actual married couple.
Just the same, an omega doesn’t just ask a friend to mark them, mate them, not even in heat. Omega heats made it a fairly common occurrence to fuck your friends (at least, a select few) while unmarked, and it wasn’t as though the desire to be marked stemmed from a heat. If it were, platonic marking would be a thing already. And sure, marking made sex feel better, but heats were sexual, and marks were... more.
That was the problem, wasn’t it? There was no easy excuse, no escaping this.
One might say an omega was a slave to instinct in their heat, but instinct didn’t come from nowhere.
The instinct to nest came from the pursuit of safety in a vulnerable time. The instinct to ‘hibernate’ came from the need to save up energy for a heat. The instinct to scent came from the desire for intimacy and comfort. The instinct to fuck came from hormonal cycles and the body’s inherent goal to breed.
The instinct to be marked as an omega? To ask for it?
The need for emotional security, to know that your feelings were returned – attraction, desire, love.
If your love for Jimin was supposed to be a secret, it wasn’t a very well-kept one. You talked every day since you were kids, knew each other's mannerisms so well you didn’t need words to communicate, gravitated toward each other in every group setting, cried together when you separated for university...
You loved him, without a doubt. It was obvious. But was it more than that? Was your body trying to tell you something that you didn’t even consider?
“I...” you started but immediately trailed off, limbs so tense you almost seemed ready to run away. This wasn’t a conversation you ever imagined could take place.
“Don’t be scared. You can tell me anything.” Were you imagining things, or did his tone sound almost... hopeful?
“I’ve never asked someone to mark me before this.”
He only hummed lowly in response. You knew that he knew this already, but it seemed that this time, he wouldn’t call you out for circling around the question.
“I’ve never met someone who I felt more for than you. Safe, comfortable, happy, loved.” You paused, taking a deep breath. “I love you a lot, you know?”
His breath hitched despite himself, even though he knew you didn’t mean what he wanted you to mean. “I know,” he replied, sounding almost disappointed.
“But?” he responded, allowing that tiny thread of hope to wind around his heart one more time.
“But I don’t know what I’m feeling,” you finished, panic increasing exponentially by the end of your sentence, your body almost feeling as though it was trembling.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he rushed, bringing you closer to rub his cheek into your hair. Was it cruel of him to feel some sort of joy at your words when you were clearly scared and confused?
His scent washing over you helped calm you some, but even still, you couldn’t stop thinking. What were you feeling? Did you want something more than friendship, or was this entire situation just putting thoughts in your head? Sure, you were undeniably compatible sexually, and sure, you found him attractive, but did you want a relationship? A romantic one? But even then, how much would that really change? What did you want? Would Jimin be disgusted with you? Let you down easily? It would have to be the latter, right?
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked-”
“No,” you cut him off.
“You should’ve. I can’t be stupid forever.”
“You’re not stupid.”
“I am stupid, what kind of person doesn’t know whether they...” Even despite knowing he could tell exactly what you were trying to say, the words wouldn’t come from your lips. Were you in denial? Embarrassed? Something else?
“Emotions don’t have to be straightforward.”
“I wish they were.”
He breathed a laugh at that. “Believe me, I know.”
“Jimin, be honest with me.”
“I’m always honest with you.”
“Let’s say, hypothetically, you have this friend. You’re very good friends – best friends even. You see each other as much as possible, all that. And she tells you one day she wants to talk.”
“Oh? What’s her name?”
“Uhhhhh...” you paused, pulling out the first name that came to mind. “Susan.”
He choked back a laugh, though you could still feel his chest bouncing beneath your head. “My friend Susan. Okay, go on.”
“And she tells you that something happened, and it spurred this huge train of thought that had never occurred to her before. Something that made her think about your entire relationship as friends, and made her think about herself.”
“Uh huh...”
“And she had to wonder, how much of her heart was invested in this relationship? That answer was easy – all of it. But what really had her confused was what parts of her heart were in it.”
You fidgeted nervously, but instead of saying something, Jimin only reached for one of your hands, intertwining your fingers together.
“But what really scared her the most was – how would you react? What happens when your best friend tells you that maybe your love for them extends beyond friendship?”
You took several deep breaths, trying to muster up the courage to finish the ‘story’ you’ve started. There was no backing out of this now. Your hand squeezed his hard enough that it must have hurt him, though he didn’t seem to mind.
“If she told you she thought she loved you as more than a friend, how would you respond?” you asked, trying to inject as much nonchalance into your voice as possible and failing miserably. You could feel your palms getting sweatier, and you thought your teeth might chew straight through your bottom lip. You held your breath once you heard Jimin take one of his own, preparing mentally for whatever was about to leave his lips.
“I would tell her I love her back.”
It was as though time stopped. “You... you what?”
Unwilling to let you hide your face anymore, he pulled you over so that you were straddling him, your heart filling when your eyes met his, full of honesty and understanding and... love.
“I would tell her I love her back. That if she wanted me, I was hers.”
Your eyes searched his face desperately for several seconds longer, waiting for the moment this bliss would break, the moment he took his words back, left you heartbroken before you’d even properly processed that it was his to break. But that moment never came.
“Really?” you whispered, eyes wide and screaming with vulnerability, but also wonder. The petty part of him wished he could fault you for being so oblivious, but it wasn’t your fault that you two had simply never outgrown the innocent intimacy from childhood, even after presenting.
“I do want it. You. I want to try. If you can be patient with me.”
“Okay. Give me a chance and I’ll make you fall in love with me for sure.”
“Oh.” As hard as you tried to purse your lips, the smile still broke its way through, eyes crinkling happily as every insecurity felt like it left at once. Was it this easy? Could happiness come so quickly in a moment, just like that?
“Oh,” he replied simply, beam splitting his face at your barely-contained joy, your expression so innocent even after all that happened the past few days.
“Oh,” you repeated, though this time the word undoubtedly seemed to harbour more weight, brows furrowing.
“That’s why you said no, isn’t it? The reason you wanted to stay but tried to leave?”
The sad smile that spread across his face at that was all the answer you needed, the briefly-forgotten guilt coming back instantly.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” he assured, pulling you close enough that your bodies were plastered together. “It all worked out anyway, right?”
You nodded, relaxing in his arms. If your brain wasn’t going a mile a minute right now, you were so comfortable you could’ve slept like this.
You allowed yourself several minutes to simply lay in his arms, that familiar blueberry-pine scent making you heart feel lighter and lighter.
“So,” you mumbled.
“What changes now?”
“What do you want to change?” he replied.
“I asked first.”
He chuckled lightly. “Fine. Well...” You leaned back in confusion when he started pushing you up and off of him. “I think being able to do this is a good change.”
He leaned his face into yours, giving you a moment to back away before gently pressing his plush lips to yours.
You’d kissed already in your heat – you remembered that much. But this wasn’t a kiss that demanded your surrender, nor was it fast, or rough. It was just soft, intimate – because sometimes, emotions were easier said through actions rather than words.
You slid your hands into his hair, dragging your nails against his scalp as you deepened the kiss. His hands traced nonsensical patterns into the skin of your back, holding you close as though you’d ever want to leave. It was so easy to get lost in him, in the way he held you, touched you, kissed you, as though you were something to be cherished.
It wasn’t long before the kiss started to get more heated, though, and you couldn’t help yourself from nipping at his bottom lip. He made a low noise in response, a hand moving to grip your ass as the other winded its way into your hair.
It was when his hand made contact with your bare ass that you remembered that you were naked throughout this entire ordeal. And just as you processed that, his hand started inching its way slowly but surely between your legs.
“I think the fuck not, Park Jimin,” you gasped, breaking the kiss and throwing his hand from your body.
He burst into bright laughter at your words, eyes forming crescents that would make any person’s day better. His happiness was contagious, and you couldn’t hold back the giggles at the sound of him.
“How sore are you?” he questioned, tiny giggles still escaping him. You thought you detected a hint of concern somewhere in there, but you couldn’t blame him for being in an obscenely good mood.
“Ugh. Are you not sore at all?”
“Not really? Mostly hungry, I guess.”
“I hate you. It feels like all of my limbs want to detach from their sockets, and don’t even get me started on what it feels like between my legs. You and your dick can go die.”
Your words only set off another round of laughter from him, his grin wide as he took in your fake pout.
“Are you sure you want that? You seemed to enjoy it from where I was standing. You’re sending me mixed signals here,” he teased.
You let out a childish noise of complaint. God, was this what you were getting yourself into? You were already used to his antics by now, but now you had to deal with them while he flirted too? Someone send help.
“Pity me a bit,” you whined, giving him the best wide-eyed pout you could muster. Though, it only seemed to raise his mood even more.
“I’m sorry I broke you,” he said.
You smacked him a bit harder than you would normally. “Jiminnnnnnnnn,” you said, stringing out the word for as long as a breath would allow.
“If I made you food, would you forgive me?”
“...I’m listening.”
“What if I said I already made you food?”
“What?!” you perked up, any grudge you might have held disappearing in an instant. “What did you make?”
“Lay down and find out in 5 minutes, I’m tired,” he responded, laying down comfortably and encouraging you to do the same. You didn’t require much convincing, cuddling back into his side. This position wasn’t anything abnormal for you two, but it felt different now. Newer, more intimate.
Needless to say, 5 minutes turned into 2 hours after you’d both fell asleep.
But when Jimin placed a bowl of re-heated stir-fry in front of you 2 hours later, you would say he secured his place as fully, unequivocally yours.
5K notes · View notes
ladyartemesia · 7 months ago
All I Want For Christmas is You
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Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Female Reader
Summary: When Park Jimin is unable to escort his precious sister through the gauntlet of corporate holiday galas, he blackmails his best friend Taehyung into being her chaperone. After all, who better to safeguard his headstrong sibling than a man who would never want her for himself? (She and Tae have spent the better part of a decade mutually disliking each other, and that’s putting it mildly.) Yet, even the best laid plans may go awry at Christmas and Kim Taehyung is about to discover that the girl he never wanted has become a temptation he cannot resist...
Genre: Comedy • Fluff  • Smut
Tropes: Brother’s Best Friend (Reader is Jimin’s Sister) • Enemies-to-Lovers
Collab: This work is part of the Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tropes Collab featuring original holiday themed works by @ppersonna • @xjoonchildx  • @underthejoon • @yeojaa​ • @untaemedqueen • and @snackhobi
Word Count: 17K (I know—I am shocked too honestly)
Rating: Explicit (18+)
Warnings: suggestive photographs • mention of accidentally being hit with a baseball • hints of jealousy and possessiveness • light tit slapping • explicit sexual content • m/f oral sex • consensual unprotected sex (shield it before you yield it y’all) • Viola’s mirror kink makes yet another appearance •
To @ppersonna​ (Lindy) @underthejoon​ (Fal) and @xjoonchildx​ (Ana) you guys are my heart. Your support, willingness to read (and re-read) and give honest feedback made this fic special. Your friendship is my daily dose of awesome. Truly, I love you.
To @untaemedqueen​ (D) all of the above applies to you, but I owe you a little something extra for the LITERAL HOURS you spent in the doc with me. This fic would not be here without you. You kept me moving. You inspired me. You were amazing. Thank you so very much. This story is lovingly dedicated to you. 
To @hobi-gif​ for being the most thorough and incredible beta reader and for having all the important girl chats with me. I think you learned more about my past than you wanted... Either way you made this story better and I am profoundly grateful for the hours of time you spent. I have removed all the Hope-No-No words in your honor. 
To @lemonjoonah​ as always, you knew EXACTLY what I needed to tweak to make this story work. (Gotta pass that Lemon Litmus Test or no dice lol.) My lovely soul twin. You’re a bloomin’ rockstar. 
Please Picture This Taehyung:
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“No. Absolutely not.”
“Yes. Because you absolutely owe me.”
“Then send me a bill, not your unmanageable harpy of a sister.”
Jimin raised a single unimpressed brow. 
“Kim Taehyung. It was exactly five years ago today that I carried your drunken naked ass two miles in the rain after you set your clothes on fire and sprained your ankle at that Beta Phi party.” He paused dramatically. “Do you remember what you said to me that night? After I deleted several pictures off phones and paid off half the party to keep it out of the papers?”
The man in question shifted uncomfortably.
“That incident is a bit hazy in my memory. I’m not sure I recall—”
“Jiminie—you’re the best and I—I owe… you. I owe you the most, Jiminie. I do—I owe you a favor—one BIG favor—anything you ask… Even though... I actually like being naked. I don’t think we need clothes. We should all be naked. Everyone. Then there would be world peace.”
Taehyung’s jaw dropped. 
Jimin grinned, sliding his phone back into his pocket.
“Naturally. And I had it all ready to go—just in case you needed extra convincing.” He crossed his arms and fixed his best friend of nearly fifteen years with a triumphant smirk. “I’m calling in that favor today, Taehyung. Now are you a man of your word or not?”
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“He did WHAT?!”
Your mother winced. 
“Jimin was... uncomfortable leaving you alone for the holiday season. He normally accompanies you to the galas but this year—”
“This year I was going to go alone and finally build my reputation as an asset to this family!”
Park Soomin sighed as she watched her daughter pace fiercely around the living room of their luxury suite. 
“No one doubts that you’re an asset, but… in light of recent events...”
Rage and embarrassment flared up in your chest before you could stop them. 
“This is about Milo… isn’t it?”
The silence that greeted your statement was confirmation enough. 
“Are you ever going to trust me again?” you whispered. 
“Oh sweetheart... it isn’t you we don’t trust...”
Tears burned at the corner of your eyes, but you ruthlessly blinked them back. 
You would play along with their humiliating schemes. 
For now.
“So which one of Jimin’s Ivy League brat pack did he blackmail into babysitting me? 
For the first time in the entirety of the conversation, your mother looked truly nervous. 
“Kim Taehyung.”
You tripped over your own feet and face-planted into the sofa. 
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“Jungkook, I need to look into faking my own death. Nothing too over the top. Just a tasteful disappearance—”
The man in question could barely restrain his grin. 
“You don’t pay me nearly enough to deal with your mother in the event of your tragic demise and miraculous resurrection.”
“I could pay you more.”
“Or,” Jungkook replied with a heavy dose of judgment coloring his tone, “you could put on this ridiculous tie and stop trying to weasel out of it.”
“Sometimes I wonder why I pay you at all,” Taehyung growled, yanking the tie from the younger man’s grasp. “Clearly I’m not the one in charge.”
“Your words, sir, not mine. Now shall we go over the details and itinerary?”
If Jeon Jungkook wasn’t the best executive aide in the city (and one of his closest friends) Tae would have drop-kicked him right then and there.
“Could you at least try to look like you’re not enjoying this?”
“I’m sorry, sir. It was insensitive of me to ignore your suffering in this delicate time. The trauma of escorting a beautiful woman to a series of glorified buffets weighs heavily upon you.”
Taehyung tightened the tie so aggressively, he almost strangled himself.
“Beautiful woman?!” he wheezed. “We’re talking about the girl who showed up to our formal graduation party looking like she just escaped from Azkaban.”
Jungkook bit the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. 
“Tae… how long has it been since you’ve actually seen Ms. Park?” 
“Seen? Maybe three—four years.”
The heir-apparent of Kim Holdings avoided the public end of corporate culture like the plague, preferring to leave the requisite schmoozing to his personable cousin, Kim Seokjin. 
However, he had crossed paths with his adolescent nemesis in... other ways. 
Taehyung was romancing a lovely young socialite who suddenly ghosted him after someone told her that he wanted at least eight naturally-birthed children. 
Soon after, your favorite charity received an anonymous 30,000 dollar donation requesting that you be featured in the dunk tank for an upcoming benefit carnival and then the same anonymous patron paid for at least fifteen little league teams to attend. 
In retaliation, someone petitioned the National Aviary Society (chaired by a very influential senator’s wife that no one ever refused if they wanted their permits to go through) to make Taehyung the MC at their annual awards ceremony—knowing full well he was allergic to birds (not dangerously allergic—just enough to be miserable).  
Taehyung had sniffled and sneezed through approximately one hundred parrots, parakeets, and other assorted fowl until he was ready to commit murder. 
The last several years had been littered with similar incidents of the two of you taking thinly veiled potshots at one another. 
“I can’t imagine she’s changed very much,” Taehyung bit off absently. His mind was abruptly consumed by how he could get revenge for those demonic birds. 
He didn’t notice the smile creeping over Jungkook’s face. 
“No, sir. I’m sure she hasn’t changed at all.”
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Taehyung had only ever had the wind knocked out of him once before. 
He was Dionysia High School’s star pitcher for three seasons and during one particularly tense game against JY Prep, Lim Jaebeom whacked a line drive right into his solar plexus. 
That’s how it felt to look up and see you at the top of the stairs. 
In his head, you were still the mischievous imp from his childhood. Every prank he played was directed at the fierce little fiend with braids and braces who’d knocked him and his date into the university fountain while experimenting with her friend’s skateboard. 
But she was gone… and in her place was something far more dangerous. 
A woman. 
Silken fabric wrapped tightly over curves you definitely didn’t have four years ago. That wild hair had been tamed into shining waves and pinned elegantly at the nape of your neck. The wicked slit that traveled all the way up your thigh teased a smooth shapely leg that all but demanded the viewer fantasize about running their hand up the length of it. 
Suddenly it was very clear why Park Jimin wouldn’t let his sister venture into the corporate cesspool alone. 
Because the sight of you could make a man desperate. 
Betrayal—of all things—slowly crept over Taehyung as you descended toward him like some sort of angel floating down from the heavens. 
His mind went blank. Just watching the seductive shift of your hips as you swayed ever closer felt like a violation of his friendship with Jimin. He could feel the judgmental stares of an imaginary Bro-Code Council boring into him from on high. 
“I see you’ve recovered from your memorable tenure as the Aviary Society’s Master of Ceremonies.”
And just like that the brat was back. 
Taehyung breathed a hefty sigh of relief, secretly thrilled to be in familiar territory with you. 
“Naturally I was delighted to help Senator Mitchell’s wife. In fact, Mitchell’s office just fast tracked all my pending permit requests for the new year.” He tilted forward, coming into your space a bit. “I should really send you a thank you card.” 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you scowled, breezing past him like an indignant queen. 
Tae could practically see the steam pouring out of your ears. 
“Of course not,” he chuckled.
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The first gala of the holiday season was an extravagant annual affair hosted by Min Corp., a Seoul based investment firm that commanded billions in assets. This year, the theme of the event was the Joseon Dynasty and the entire ballroom had been gloriously transformed into a stunning celebration of the Min family’s royal heritage. 
Attendees were gifted their own traditional fan, each uniquely crafted by artisans from Damyang. Taehyung’s was all black with bold silver calligraphy while yours was a beautiful bamboo and silk piece decorated with pomegranate trees. 
You had already whacked three people with it by the time dinner was served. 
“It really is a pity these fell out of fashion,” you lamented. “They’re quite useful.”
“You are deranged,” Taehyung mumbled, massaging his temples in exasperation. 
“Nonsense. I only fanned those who deserved it.”
“He was staring at my rack for a solid minute.”
Taehyung could hardly blame the man, it was a battle he himself was losing after all, but Harkins was twice your age and married—therefore his ogling was in especially poor taste. 
“Okay... What about Kang?” 
“He was verbally abusing one of the waitstaff.” 
“Alright, fair enough, but why on earth would you go after sweet old Mrs. O’Malley?”
“She was about to grab your ass.”
Taehyung’s mouth dropped open.
“She’s eighty-five!”
“And still kickin’ apparently.” You shook your head in disgust. “As if I’d whack an eighty-five year-old woman for anything less than non-consensual touching.”
“I- I- mean—surely you must be mistaken,” he coughed. 
“Oh, there’s no mistake. That nasty old crone is a serial offender. She likes to play it off as dementia, but she’s as sharp as a tack. Last year she got a whole handful of Jimin. Honestly, I’d call the police on her, but the commissioner is her grandson so I doubt I’d get very far.”
Taehyung turned to the woman in question just in time to see her totter lecherously toward Jung Hoseok, fingers already twitching in anticipation. 
“Is nothing sacred?” he mused hollowly. 
You shrugged. 
“Many people who accumulate as much as our families have start believing that they are entitled to whatever strikes their fancy.” Your eyes met his with a hint of bemusement. “Surely you should be used to this sort of thing by now?”
“Yes, but I was hardly expecting it from little old ladies!”
The remainder of dinner was a terse affair where you pretended he didn’t exist for the entire meal and he in turn pretended that the spunky young heiress seated to his right was the most darling creature to ever walk the earth. By dessert she was ready to get married and you were ready to vomit. 
Afterward, Taehyung found himself quickly converted to your views on fan usefulness as you began strolling through the crowd intent on strengthening your family’s corporate ties. 
“Kim Taehyung,” you ground out through clenched teeth, “how am I supposed to do business if you keep stabbing everyone I speak to!”
“I don’t know what you’re implying. I’m simply not used to carrying one of these. I may have accidentally grazed a few overzealous individuals—”
“My last three conversations have been rudely disrupted by the blunt end of that accused fan.”
Taehyung crossed his arms smugly. 
“And what of it? Jimin sent me along to keep an eye on you and the gentlemen in question were hardly behaving themselves. No one has to put their hand in my back or lean that close to me when they’re talking business.” 
“That’s because no one wants to get that close to you,” you replied sweetly. “You’re gross.” 
A devastating grin slid slowly over his features as he leaned forward to whisper in your ear. 
“I can think of several women who might disagree.”
He just barely caught the hitch in your breath before- 
“Like who? Miss Blushes-and-Giggles from dinner?”
“Jealous?” Taehyung drawled cockily. 
“Only in your dreams, Kim.” Then, with a deliberate flick of your fan, you turned your back to him. “I’m headed for the ladies room. Do yourself a favor and don’t follow me in.”
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It was twenty minutes before Taehyung realized that you slipped out the back entrance of the restroom. 
It took another ten for him to locate you on the balcony flirting outrageously with Min Yoongi. 
The young heir of Min Corp. was just leaning closer to whisper sweet nothings in your ear when a black fan slid right in between the two of you. 
“Lovely weather we’re having,” Taehyung observed cheerfully. His eyes bounced between you and Yoongi with barely concealed fury and you let out a miserable groan. 
“Mr. Kim,” Yoongi cleared his throat significantly. “What an… unexpected surprise.”
Frustration clawed at your chest as your overbearing guardian nodded smugly in response. 
It was time to teach him—and Jimin—a lesson. 
“Yoongi,” you sighed, sliding your hand pointedly through the crook of his arm, “I’m not feeling at all well. Would you perhaps… escort me home?”
Taehyung suddenly looked as if he’d swallowed a live octopus. 
Yoongi grinned, clearly thrilled with the prospect of simultaneously spending more time with you and irritating Taehyung. 
“It would be my pleasure.”
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“Jimin is gonna kill me,” Taehyung grumbled as he watched Min Yoongi help you into the passenger seat of his Aston Martin. 
An ugly green feeling he refused to identify twisted sharply in his gut when you smiled coyly at the other man. 
“This is ridiculous,” he snarled to no one in particular before yanking his phone out of his pocket. 
Jungkook picked up on the second ring. 
“I need you to drive to Ms. Park’s apartment and tell me if she goes in alone or if Min Yoongi goes in with her.”
“You want me to what?!” 
“Just do it!” he snapped, downing an entire glass of champagne before signaling his own driver. 
Fifteen minutes later his phone vibrated from the car seat next to him. 
1 New Message from: Jungkook
Her building has four separate entrances. Which one do I watch? 
Taehyung could practically feel the vein pulsing in his forehead as he scrolled through his contacts. 
You picked up on the fourth ring. 
“Where are you?”
“Oh it’s you… Wait—how did you get this number?”
“Jimin. Obviously. Now please answer the question.”
“Oh a ‘please.’ Who knew you had manners?”
“Answer the question, Park. I’m tired.”
The distinct sound of a zipper unzipping carried through the speaker. 
“I’m at home, of course. Where else would I be? I just got here like a minute ago.”
He had a sudden vision of Min Yoongi helping you out of your dress. His grip on the phone tightened. 
“Are you alone?”
You snorted. 
“I don’t see how that is any of your business.”
Taehyung saw red. 
“I’m coming over.”
There was a loud crash and several colorful words in at least three different languages. 
“Wha- No! I’m trying to go to bed!”
“With who?!”
“With myself, you idiot!”
“Prove it!”
“Fine! I will!”
The line disconnected and Taehyung swore loudly. He was just about to direct the driver to your building when his phone went off again. 
1 New Message from: Park Gremlin 
He almost choked on his tongue. 
You were clearly in the middle of undressing and—in your irritation—probably hadn’t looked too carefully at the picture you sent.  
At first glance it was simply a shot of your empty room (presumably “proof” that you were alone) but you neglected to consider the floor-length mirror hanging in the far corner…
A mirror that showed you angrily holding up your phone with your gown pooled deliciously around your waist and the soft round swells of your breasts strapped into lacy red lingerie. 
You were exquisite. 
A fierce, hot sensation gripped him ruthlessly, and this time there was no mistaking it. 
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Your phone lit up on the bed where you tossed it after snapping a photo for your tightly-wound man nanny. 
1 New Message from: Kim Grinch 
I didn’t know you liked Van Gogh. 
Your head tilted in confusion. 
There was a Van Gogh print in your room, but he couldn’t have seen it because it was behind you when-
Oh NO.
You gasped, scrolling back up to confirm what deep down you already knew to be true. 
… You just sent Kim Taehyung a topless mirror selfie. 
Several miles away, smiling smugly in the backseat of his town car, Taehyung was sure he could almost hear you screaming. 
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“Good morning, sir. Which would you like first; the bad news or the worse news?”
Taehyung groaned from underneath his covers. 
“Don’t you ever knock? I could have a woman up here.”
“You’ve never brought a woman up here.”
“Is that the bad news?” Taehyung yawned. 
“No,” Jungkook tossed a small stack of newspapers and printed digital articles into his lap, “this is the bad news.”
Pictures of you, Min Yoongi, and even himself were splashed over the front pages of all of them. 
“The Park Angel?” 
“That’s what the media calls her... The public is rather fascinated with her actually.”
“Can’t imagine why,” Taehyung mumbled. 
“Of course not, sir. It’s a great mystery.”
As usual, Taehyung chose to ignore his aide’s lethal snark and pressed on to the matter at hand. 
“This is a flaming disaster.”
“Oh I don’t know. I really appreciated the picture of you staring on forlornly while she and Yoongi climbed into the Aston Martin. Takes a real gift to capture all that drama in a single frame.”
“Which one was that?!” 
Tae ran his hand down over his face in exasperation. 
“I’m surprised my mother hasn’t called.”
“She has. Twice.”
“I don’t suppose that’s the ‘worse news’ is it?”
“Of course it isn’t. I’m never that lucky.” He collapsed backwards into his pillows with a beleaguered huff. “Go ahead then. Tell me.”
“Park Jimin is on the line for you right now.”
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After a small eternity on the phone with Jimin (assuring him that NO Min Yoongi had not despoiled his precious sister and YES he would definitely do better next time), Taehyung was forced to attend an impromptu brunch with his mother. It took considerable effort, but he was eventually able to convince her that you were neither breaking his heart nor expecting his child. 
By the time he arrived to collect you for this evening’s event, Taehyung was already sick of hearing your name (he’d spoken it no less than three hundred times since Jungkook woke him this morning).
You were in much the same boat as Taehyung, having spent most of the afternoon pacifying Jimin and clearing up your own mother’s romantic delusions regarding the Min and Kim heirs respectively. 
Tonight’s gala was a Victorian Christmas Ball thrown by the National Literary Fund and the entire venue had been transformed into a Charles Dickens fever dream. 
Unlike the Min Gala (whose theme was guarded like a state secret every year) the Literary Fund’s tribute to A Christmas Carol was tradition and you were dressed accordingly in a custom corset gown with gorgeous detailing. 
Every second of effort it took to lace yourself into the monstrosity was worth the look on Taehyung’s face the moment you slipped off your cape. 
“Something wrong, Mr. Kim?”
Taehyung was desperately trying to look literally anywhere but your chest, where said corset was serving up your breasts like a debauched buffet. 
Jimin. Think of Jimin. Think of what Jimin will do to you. Think of how much trouble she’s caused-
He peeked again.
I would pay a million dollars to suck those tits. 
“Nothing at all,” his voice cracked. 
The itinerary for the evening included performances by a local children’s choir, a traditional waltz, and—of course—dinner.
You both managed to get along without snapping at each other during the choral performance, but as two of the largest donors to the Children’s Literacy Initiative, neither of you could escape being drawn into the waltz. 
The energetic socialite who Taehyung flirted with over dinner the previous night eventually lured him onto the floor while you graciously accepted an invitation from a lovely older gentleman who chaired the Fund’s event committee. 
For the first few movements, you were thoroughly enjoying yourself. Mr. Lee was charming, respectful, and still an excellent dancer despite his advanced age. It wasn’t until a familiar sound caught your attention that the lightness in your chest suddenly felt heavy...
Taehyung was laughing. 
You heard him do so many times over the years, and in each instance, the carefree magic of it never failed to make your heart flutter. 
But now he was smiling down at the pretty little heiress and laughing for her… and the flutter in your chest was accompanied by something else. 
Something that felt an awful lot like longing. 
“Does he know you look at him like that?” Mr. Lee asked quietly. 
Your eyes flew guiltily to his, but it was too late. The old man had caught a glimpse of the secret you buried deeply for more than a decade; so deeply, in fact, there were times you almost forgot it yourself...
“No,” you whispered, “he has no idea.” 
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Disaster struck at dinner. 
Taehyung quite liked dancing with the lovely Miss Something-or-Other. She was sweet and funny and (unlike with you) he wasn’t constantly torn between agitation and raging inappropriate lust in her presence. 
The cold shoulder you offered him when he took his seat seemed even more frigid than usual and he spent half the meal wondering what he’d done to earn your amplified disdain when suddenly—
Your hand smacked down on his wrist, seizing it in a vise-like grip. 
Taehyung nearly choked on his steak and was about to give you a searing set-down over your spontaneous grabby-ness when he noticed your expression. 
“What’s wrong?” he whispered, leaning forward in concern. 
“I-I need—” 
It looked as if you were in some sort of physical pain and Taehyung was rapidly becoming worried. 
“I need your help,” you finally managed to whimper and the next thing he knew, you were dragging him away from the table and into one of the secluded alcoves near the main entrance hall. 
“Is there anyone around? Can anyone see us?” The look on your face bordered on unhinged. 
“No. There’s no one. Park, are you okay? What’s going on I—”
“I need you to unlace my dress,” you hissed frantically. 
At that moment, a bomb could have gone off and Taehyung wouldn’t have blinked. 
You, however, were completely preoccupied with your own distress and therefore oblivious to his. 
“My earring broke during dinner and fell down there and now it’s stabbing me—”
Your eyes were beginning to tear. Taehyung remained frozen, still trying to figure out whether or not this was a lucid dream. 
“—it’s definitely pierced the skin and there’s a possibility I’m gonna start bleeding through the fabric—”
The mention of blood snapped him out of his daze somewhat. 
“A-Alright. Just turn around—brace yourself on that wall.”
You quickly did as you were told and Taehyung began to tug fruitlessly at the ties cross-crossing your back.
“Why won’t this—”
His fingers fumbled over the knots, desperately trying to loosen them, but they simply wouldn’t budge. 
“I can’t—I can’t get it. Whoever helped you into this thing made sure you weren’t getting out of it.” 
You whined in frustration and the earring shifted a bit in response. 
There was only one other way to fix this (and you would almost rather be in pain). 
“Taehyung I—” you turned to face him again, forcing your eyes shut before reluctantly doing what had to be done “... I need you to reach down the front of my dress and get it.”
He blinked. Twice. 
“I’m sorry—What did you just—”
“Please, Tae,” you whispered desperately, letting your lip tremble in a way he had never been able to resist, “it hurts…”
He gulped. 
His eyes dropped to the matter at hand.
This is fine. Everything’s fine. She’s in pain, right? You’re basically a doctor right now. You’re just going slide your hand in between the most mouthwatering pair of breasts you’ve ever seen and then—
Taehyung’s manic inner monologue was interrupted by the sound of his own moan. He immediately faked a coughing fit to cover it and prayed you hadn’t noticed. 
(You hadn’t. You were actively being stabbed.) 
“I can’t believe I’m actually doing this,” he muttered, curling his fingers over the scalloped edge of the bodice. 
You bit your lip, desperately trying to hold back any reaction, but when his knuckle brushed the pebbled tip of your nipple, you gasped. 
His hand stuttered, lingering a moment too long over the tight little peak as his gaze suddenly shot up to meet yours. Both of you had been studiously avoiding eye contact, yet now it was as if neither of you could look away. 
Taehyung wet his lips reflexively. 
“It’s too tight,” he whispered, “I need more leverage.” 
Then his arm wrapped over the curve of your lower back and he drew you tightly against him, anchoring your hips just enough to fully slip his hand between your body and the corset. 
You were so warm.
So soft...
“I can feel it,” he grunted, “but I can’t get a good grip on it.” 
His mouth pressed into a tight line as he leaned forward, bringing your back up against the wall. You let out a little squeak and his eyes darted briefly down to your mouth before he spoke again. 
“Hold on to me.”  
You nodded and wordlessly slid your arms around his waist.
If you concentrated hard enough, you could almost pretend that this wasn’t one of the most erotic moments of your life. 
You could almost pretend that it meant nothing. 
Your mind was spinning wildly, wondering what he was thinking, wondering if he noticed how strangely you were breathing or how hard your heart was beating...
“I’ve got it,” he murmured. Shivers shot down your spine at the dark timbre of his voice. 
He was so close. You could feel every word he spoke brushing softly against your skin. 
“On ‘three’ I’m going to pull it out… Are you ready?”
You drew in a final steadying breath. 
“Do it.”
He nodded. 
“One… Two… Three—”
Taehyung yanked his hand back and several things happened at once. 
Your breasts bounced almost entirely out of the corset. 
The decorative clasps on the front of your gown tangled with the buttons on his shirt and when he pulled back, three of them went flying off like stray bullets. 
And finally, the corset didn’t relinquish Taehyung’s hand quite quickly enough and, as a result, you toppled forward and crashed down on top of him, smashing your newly bare breasts to his newly bare chest. 
It could have been ten seconds or ten hours that passed by while the two of you lay there, breathing heavily in a pile of confused arousal when—
“... Is… everything alright here?”
You both looked up to find a thoroughly scandalized member of the waitstaff standing over you. 
Taehyung saw his life flash before his eyes—ending (of course) with Jimin murdering him for this. 
He gulped again. 
“I can explain.” 
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It was decided—for the sake of appearances—that you would both leave the venue (immediately) in separate vehicles. 
Taehyung dropped a cool three hundred in crisp bills on the unfortunate waiter in order to help him ‘forget’ whatever he may or may not have seen. 
Neither of you spoke another word to each other in the ten minutes it took to bribe all the appropriate parties, gather your coats, and call for two separate town cars. 
Something had happened when he touched you; a subtle shift in the precarious balance of your relationship that you both felt keenly, but could not possibly begin to define. 
Taehyung barely even remembered climbing into the back of a vehicle. His body was firing on auto-pilot after the sensory overload of the last half hour. It wasn’t until he was nearly home that he realized he was still holding onto your earring. 
His mind began to wander as he examined the troublesome bauble in his palm. It was a striking piece; deceptively complex and unexpectedly beautiful. 
Just like you.
He told himself that the heat pooling low in his belly was anger—that the strange anxiousness to be near you was simply a desire for retribution—that it was merely platonic curiosity that left his hands aching to explore the rest of your curves. 
… and pitifully transparent ones at that. 
Still, he clung to them desperately out of self-preservation. 
The gentle hum of his phone suddenly disturbed Taehyung’s silent contemplation. 
1 New Message from: Park Gremlin 
I made it home safely. 
Taehyung’s fingers were typing a reply before he could properly consider the consequence of his actions. 
To: Park Gremlin
I require proof… like last time. 
He nearly threw the phone the moment he sent it, running his hands down over his face in disbelief. 
You’re playing with fire, Kim Taehyung. 
And he was burning up already. He had no business sending you texts like that. Maybe you wouldn’t catch it. Maybe he could just-
The phone went off again and it was embarrassing how quickly he scrambled to open your response. 
His heart stuttered in his chest. His breathing ceased entirely-
And he knew—he knew—there was no coming back from this.
At first glance the photo was nearly identical to the shot you sent him last night. Same room, same angle… 
same mirror.
Yet this time, the reflection was quite different. 
The temptress in the glass wore nothing but that sinfully delicious corset and a pair of silky lace thigh highs, each accented with a green satin bow. 
He wanted to rip them off with his teeth. 
 “Oh Taehyung,” he whispered, as a dark wave primitive longing tore through him, “you are in so much trouble.”
Across town (buried beneath a pile of blankets) you were still struggling to process the boldness of your own actions when his response lit up your screen. 
1 New Message from: Kim Grinch
Green is my favorite color. 
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Taehyung awoke to a series of crashes and shouts echoing from the floor below him. 
Jungkook was already seated in the corner of the room reading a newspaper. 
“Good morning, sir,” he said without looking up. “Would you like the bad news or the worse news?”
Suddenly the french doors of his bedroom slammed open and one very irate Park Jimin stormed through. 
“I swear I should have seen this coming. The two of you have always been obsessed with each other, but I never imagined—”
Taehyung’s eyes widened guiltily. He quickly schooled his features into a confused glare. 
“Jimin, I’ve only been awake for fifteen seconds. What the hell are you talking about?!”
Another stack of newspapers hit his lap and this time the pictures were mostly of him with his shirt ripped halfway down his chest. 
He winced a bit at that last one. 
“You have ten seconds to explain before I start throwing things.”
Taehyung opened his mouth to do just that, but he was interrupted when his mother marched into the room waving the same articles that Jimin had just thrown at him. 
“KIM TAEHYUNG I raised you better than this! How could you!? That poor girl!”
“Mother!” he squeaked, yanking his blanket up over his chest like a frightened debutante. 
Jungkook began surreptitiously filming the whole debacle from the corner. 
“Indeed,” Jimin added darkly, crossing his arms over his chest, “how could you?”
Taehyung sighed heavily. 
“Is anyone else going to come charging into my bedroom?”
“Just answer me once and for all, is she pregnant?” 
“NO! Mother! Oh my—”
“Why does your mom think my little sister is pregnant?!”
Taehyung waved his arms wildly in exasperation. 
“My mom thinks everyone is pregnant! You know this!”
Jungkook could no longer contain his hysterical cackling. He very nearly fell off the chair trying to hold it all in. 
“Mr. Jeon,” Taehyung ground out irritably, “if it’s not too much trouble, could you please escort everyone out of my bedroom so I can get dressed!” 
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“So you see—I was basically like a doctor,” Taehyung finished emphatically. 
He spent the past twenty minutes explaining to the entire table (which now included both you and your mother) why it was necessary to shove his hand down the front of your dress. 
Park Soomin had shown up at his door looking for answers (and dragging you behind her like a sacrificial lamb) about three minutes after Jimin. 
You had taken one look at Jimin’s murderous expression and insisted that the situation be evaluated over breakfast at the cafe down the street (where there were lots of witnesses). 
Which was how you, Taehyung, Jimin, and both your mothers ended up discussing your cleavage over coffee in a public restaurant. 
Jimin was the first to break. It was a few snorts at first, but he was basically in tears by the end of it, wheezing about how he never doubted Taehyung for a second and holding on to his sides from laughing too hard. 
Taehyung’s gaze met yours for a brief, heated exchange. He conveniently forgot to mention your slightly-less-than-explainable ‘check-in’ texts, but their existence was palpable in the air between you. 
“I think I’ll take a walk,” you muttered, excusing yourself from the complicated atmosphere at the table. 
Taehyung’s eyes lingered on you a tad too long as you wandered away, a fact that wasn’t missed by either of your mothers.
“Just a few more events and you can go back to not seeing her at all,” Jimin chuckled, patting him on the back. 
“Yeah,” Taehyung answered with a tight smile. “That’s… great.”
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The cafe had a lovely little balcony area decorated with all sorts of comforting Christmas foliage. It was far more inviting than the awkward conversation and confusing stares you and Taehyung had been trading all morning. 
For the first time in the nearly fifteen years of your relationship (such as it was) you didn’t know where you stood with him… and it bothered you more than you cared to admit. 
Taehyung had always been important to you, whether you wanted him to be or not. He mattered—effortlessly—from the first moment you met him and continued to do so without regard for your sanity. 
Whatever was building between you now would almost certainly bring change… though what kind of change was anyone’s guess. 
It was hard to imagine the years ahead without the strange excitement he always brought to your life, but some things were simply out of your control…
“I never thought I’d see you here.”
A profoundly unpleasant feeling (something similar to falling through the ice on a frozen pond) overtook you. 
“Milo.” Even saying his name felt gross. You sighed. “What is so strange about seeing me here?”
The man in question blushed in a way you once found irresistible. 
“I looked for you everywhere. All your usual places—”
“I avoided them.”
I avoided you. 
Milo nodded. 
“I—I figured.” 
He took a step closer and you instinctively moved back. The hurt in his eyes was unmistakable, but you had long since become immune. 
“What are you doing?” you hissed angrily. “I thought I made myself clear the last time we spoke.”
“Yes, but—” his hand reached out to curl over your forearm and you recoiled, “you didn’t give me a chance to explain—”
“Excuse me.” 
You both turned to see Kim Taehyung with his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at Milo like he was a roach that crawled across his dinner plate. 
“Your mother sent me to come find you. She wants to leave.” 
You nodded and moved to pull away, but Milo’s grip tightened on your arm. 
“No—please if you just give me a minute—”
“That is enough,” Taehyung snarled, seizing the other man’s hand and forcibly removing it from your person. He angled his body between the two of you protectively. “I think it’s time for you to go.”
Milo’s eyes narrowed. 
“You’re Kim Taehyung. I read all about you in the papers this morning.” His lips twisted into an ugly sneer as he addressed you. “You really think you’re better off with him if that’s the way he treats you?”
Taehyung tensed menacingly beside you, but you laid a gentle hand on his arm to calm him. 
“None of that is any of your concern.” Your gaze rose to meet his defiantly. “Nothing about me is your concern anymore.”
Milo’s eyes fell to where your palm rested on the other man’s sleeve, noticing the way you both unconsciously leaned toward one another. 
“This isn’t over,” he muttered, storming off. 
After he was gone, you let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding. 
“Thank you,” you whispered (though you couldn’t resist adding), “I could have handled it myself of course…”
Taehyung laughed. 
“Oh I know. I was at that party where you knocked out Tyler Jung for grabbing your ass.” 
You grinned. 
“I’d forgotten about that.”
“Well I’m sure Tyler hasn’t.” 
(He neglected to mention that he split Tyler’s lip behind the library the next day, just to make sure it was extra memorable for him.) 
“I wish I could forget about Milo.”
“... Are you still in love with him?” 
The words tasted like ash in his mouth. 
“No.” You smiled softly. “I’m not sure I was ever in love with him actually. It’s more—” you sighed, “—embarrassment… wounded pride.”
Taehyung tilted his head curiously and you found yourself continuing. 
“In the beginning, he was very playful and charming—and obviously handsome. He reminded me so much of—”
You cleared your throat. 
“Anyway… I was quite taken with him at first. I didn’t suspect any ulterior motives.” You shrugged, trying to hold back the unpleasant emotions that always threatened to overrun you in moments like this. “I just thought he liked me.”
Taehyung’s eyes filled with sympathy and understanding as you spoke. It felt oddly natural to open up to him this way. 
“Jimin is very protective of me—with good reason it turns out. He was suspicious of Milo and hired people to do some discreet digging.”
Your hands wrapped around your body for both warmth and comfort. 
“Milo’s family owns several companies, just like ours, but they’re all struggling. His father sent him to me hoping that he would eventually get compromising information… a sex tape or photographs—something of that nature. They intended to blackmail Jimin into doing business with them.”
Taehyung felt his jaw clench painfully. Fury, hot and profound, rolled through him. 
“I should kill him.”
You shook your head, amused in spite of yourself. 
“That’s exactly what Jimin said.”
“He has good instincts.”
“Scum like Milo aren’t worth it,” you chuckled. “He never got what he wanted… but I was still mortified. I felt like such a fool for believing him.”
“No,” Taehyung’s hands slid up to cup your shoulders, “it’s not foolish to believe that someone cared for you.”
It would be so easy to care for you. 
“Besides…” his eyes fell briefly to your lips as he searched for the right words, “I saw the way he looked at you and—even though he’s clearly a terrible person—I believe his feelings may have been genuine.”
You nodded. 
“That’s what he keeps trying to tell me—that he did have bad intentions, but ended up falling for me anyway.” You shook your head. “As If I could believe a word he says.”
The silence between you stretched comfortably. Taehyung sensed you had more to say, so he waited until you were ready to voice it. 
“I think that’s why I’m so sensitive about handling things on my own lately… and just now even. I want to prove to everyone—to myself—that I’m not a liability.”
“Hey,” he whispered, tipping your chin up till your gazes met, “no one thinks you’re a liability. And even if you are capable, no one should have to fight their own battles all the time—especially when they’re emotionally compromised…” His thumb gently brushed away the small tear that escaped down the curve of your cheek. “That’s the benefit of having people who care about you.”
“... Like you?” 
The words left you so softly, you could almost imagine they were still in your head where they likely should have stayed. 
Taehyung’s eyes widened in surprise. His gaze became even more intent and you ceased breathing altogether. After a moment his lips parted as if he was about to speak- 
“What’s going on, guys?”
You both jerked back at the sound of your brother’s voice. He was standing in the entrance to the balcony, gaze darting suspiciously between the two of you. 
Taehyung was a bit dazed, but you were always quicker on your feet. 
“I ran into Milo… Tae was calming me down.”
Jimin’s eyes hardened immediately. 
“Where is he?”
“Long gone,” you mumbled, ambling over to the familiar warmth of his arms. “I just want to go home.” 
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The Black and White Ball was one of the most coveted invitations of the holiday season. 
The dress code was quite strict (all black or all white—no exceptions) and it was one of the few events where people actually arrived in limousines. 
Taehyung loathed limousines. He felt absurdly pretentious pulling up to your building in such a gauche ride, but traditions and appearances meant too much in his world to simply disregard them. 
His ensemble for the evening was a beautifully tailored black suit with hand-stitched baroque detailing. Oddly, he found himself wondering what you would think of it... 
“You look like a vampire.”
Taehyung turned at the sound of your voice and was struck, yet again, by how incredibly beautiful you were. 
You had chosen to wear white, donning an exquisite gown with delicate pearl beading and a daring sweetheart neckline that molded perfectly to your frame. 
If he looked like a vampire, you were surely an angel. 
Angel or not, he couldn’t let that comment pass. 
“I think I’m offended.”
“I can’t imagine why. After all, loads of women are attracted to Nosferatu.”
Taehyung’s eyes narrowed. 
“There are so many sexy vampires in popular culture, but you just had to lump me in with the creepy bald one...”
You shrugged playfully. 
“I wouldn’t want you to think I was going soft.”
A wicked grin danced over your lips as you strolled past him regally—just as you had many times before... 
This time, however, he let his eyes linger a little longer on the view. 
Lord have mercy. 
“Of course not,” he coughed. 
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“You’re what?!”
You rolled your eyes.
Tonight had been going rather well. 
The two of you formed a mutual unspoken agreement to pretend that your last encounter on the balcony (and on the phone) had never happened and (despite the heated glances you occasionally traded) the bickering and playful banter characteristic of your relationship had all but returned to normal...
Until Taehyung learned of your participation in the evening’s main event. 
“I told you, I’m part of the date auction this year.”
“Does your brother know about this?!”
“I didn’t see any reason to bother him with it.” You were suddenly preoccupied with your nails. 
“Woman,” Taehyung sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “are you trying to make my life difficult?”
“No, I’m just naturally gifted in that respect.”
You turned and began making your way to the front, but Taehyung was hot on your heels and clearly not ready to let the matter rest. 
“I cannot believe you’re actually going through with this! It’s not 1810, you know. We shouldn’t just auction off women for dates—”
“You’re absolutely right, Tae Tae.” You brushed a condescending pat over his cheek. “Nowadays we auction off the men too.”
Then you sauntered off to join the rest of the participating women—and men—backstage, leaving Taehyung to stew about the entire situation from the crowd. 
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“As you know, all proceeds from tonight’s auction go to fight childhood hunger right here in our city. For legal purposes, I must advise all bidders that you are only bidding on the company of the individual in question.”
Taehyung shook his head. “Jimin is probably going to kill me for this.”
“If you place the winning bid, then you and your date will receive two VIP tickets to the Governor's Winter Wonderland Gala which comes with a variety of amenities including; a luxury limousine service, one of the private and famously romantic Winter Wonderland dinner experiences—”
His eyes fluttered shut. “Jimin is definitely gonna kill me for this.” 
“—unlimited free drinks, ten complimentary tickets for each of the grand prize raffles, photos with the Governor and his family, along with many more surprises!”
Taehyung grabbed a champagne flute from a nearby waiter and downed it in one go. 
“And now for our first date of the evening! Mr. Jackson Wang!” 
Jackson went for a cool six grand because no one was brave enough to outbid his girlfriend. 
After him, the beautiful Manoban heiress and her handsome cousin Kim Namjoon went for twelve grand each.
Jung Hoseok started a frenzied bidding war between two young socialites and Mrs. O’Malley. He ended up going to the lovely Ms. Ana Fallon for a staggering twenty thousand dollars. 
Taehyung’s own cousin, Kim Seokjin, paid a jaw-dropping twenty-one thousand dollars for Lin Yuna, the young CEO of Lin Cosmetics. (Taehyung made a mental note to ask him about that later.) 
Then it was your turn. 
“The next lady on our list needs no introduction. The lovely Park Angel has graciously agreed to a date with one lucky bidder tonight! Who will it be? Do I hear ten thousand?”
“Ten thousand.”
Taehyung swung his head toward the first bidder and breathed a sigh of relief. 
Tam Martin, one of your best friends and very gay. 
“Eleven thousand.”
“Twelve thousand.”
“Sixteen thousand dollars.”
“Seventeen thousand.”
Taehyung was having trouble keeping up with all the bidders. His ears were starting to ring again and a strange unpleasant nausea was building in his stomach. 
“Twenty thousand.”
“Twenty-five thousand.”
“Thirty thousand!”
At the sound of the last bidder’s voice, you noticeably paled. Your eyes flew to Taehyung’s and immediately he knew exactly who it was. 
Before he could even react to the new information, another voice joined the fray. 
“Forty thousand.”
Min Yoongi smiled smugly from the other side of the room and even had the audacity to throw you a wink. 
You smiled shyly at the young heir’s boldness and Taehyung felt something downright unholy rise up in his chest. 
Milo was still bidding. 
“Fifty thousand dollars.”
Not her. 
“Sixty,” Yoongi countered.
She’s mine. 
Suddenly Taehyung was on his feet. 
“One hundred thousand dollars!” 
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The silence in the backseat of your limousine was deafening. 
Tension charged the air like an electric current as the significance of the last hour weighed heavily between you. 
The spacious luxury vehicle allowed you to sit facing one another. Taehyung’s eyes were focused on his hands, but you were looking at him—letting your mind run wild with speculation. 
And hope. 
Part of you was still there, on the stage, watching him stand up and bid a fortune for the pleasure of your company. 
His gaze was so fierce when he spoke, like an ancient emperor calling out his decree for the people to obey. 
You dreamed about him bidding on you when you signed up for the auction (even before Jimin bullied him into accompanying you). You let yourself imagine him speaking out again and again till the others stepped back—
Yet you never dared hope for it. 
However, the last several days marked an unexpected turning point in your relationship. 
For years, you and he were like magnets with a too-similar charge, but something had shifted irrevocably between you, and somehow your stubborn similarities became opposites that could not resist their attraction. 
Kim Taehyung was one of the wealthiest men in the city…
But he didn’t need to buy your heart. 
It had always been his, even if you didn’t want to admit it. 
He had claimed you tonight—and every single soul in that ballroom knew it. 
The next move was yours and you intended to make it. 
“Mmm,” you hissed a bit, bringing your hand to rest just below your breasts. 
Taehyung’s gaze flew up in concern. 
“Is everything alright?”
“Yes, it’s just that scratch from the earring,” your fingers rubbed gingerly at the spot, drawing his focus to it, “it still stings.”
“Oh… I—” he shook his head, “I didn’t realize it was that bad.”
“Do you want to see?” 
Taehyung’s eyes rose slowly to yours. 
You watched the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he considered your words. Anticipation vibrated through your blood like notes struck on a piano—
Then he nodded...
And you both were lost. 
Trembling fingers slid the zipper down the side of your gown. The dress itself was a marvel of physics designed to support you without the need for a bra. 
Taehyung drew in an impossibly deep breath as the fabric drifted to your waist, baring the perfect mounds of your breasts to him entirely. 
“Here,” you whispered, pointing to a small red mark just under the curve of your left one. 
He bit back a moan. 
“I—I see. That looks… painful.” His fingers dug into the seat beside him. “Is there anything I can do to help?” 
You nodded. 
“Kiss it better.”
Taehyung felt the air knock out of his lungs like a sucker punch. 
This must have been how Adam felt when Eve offered him the forbidden fruit all those millennia ago. 
He knew he shouldn’t—
but he could never deny you. 
“Of course.”
You watched as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. He looked like a man possessed and you reveled in the power of it. 
It was for you. 
He wanted you. 
Your back arched up the slightest bit, beckoning to him—offering him a taste of what he was so desperately craving. 
Touch me… please. 
Large palms landed on either side of your thighs, bracing him on the seat beneath you. The tip of his nose teased the delicate line of your collar bone and he swore violently under his breath. 
Then his lips were on your skin and your mind went blank. 
“Taehyung—“ you moaned. 
Hot open-mouthed kisses spread over the soft swell of your breast and you gasped— shuddering helplessly as a fierce wave of pleasure tore through you.
Sweet merciful heavens. 
Over the years you imagined a moment like this thousands of times in your head—only to discover now that you had pitifully underestimated both his passion and his skill. 
You had dreamed of a quiet fire—but he had unleashed an inferno. 
The lewd sounds of his mouth nipping and sucking at your tender flesh filled the small space around you as he poured himself into each obscene contact—stopping briefly to flick his tongue over the taunt peak of your nipple. You trembled breathlessly at the sharp snap of sensation, letting your head fall back against the seat as you buried your fingers in his soft curls. 
Finally his mouth fastened over the tiny scratch, and the kiss deepened. You knew what he was doing, what the result of his efforts would be—
He was marking you. 
And you wanted it. 
Oh how you wanted it. 
Suddenly the car took a sharp turn, causing Taehyung to lose his grip on the seat. His arms wrapped around your torso for balance, dragging you fully against him.
“Does it feel better, Angel?” he growled. 
You nodded frantically and he nipped at the underside of your breast. 
“Speak up.”  
“Yes, Taehyung,” you whimpered, “it feels so much better.” 
“Mmmm,” he hummed, brushing his mouth along the sensitive column of your neck. “Who knew you could be such a good girl?”
Then his hand came up to grip your chin, turning it so your lips were almost against his—
“Madame. We’ve arrived.”
The driver’s voice cut over your senses like a shard of ice. 
Taehyung jerked backward and immediately buried his face in his hands. 
Your fingers hastily yanked your dress up and you stumbled out of the car in a daze, letting your feet carry you forward until you collapsed on top of your bed. 
Did we just...
You hadn’t even begun to collect your thoughts when your phone buzzed from inside your purse. 
1 New Message from: Taehyung 🙄🥴🙈
I need to know you made it safely to your room. 
You grinned. 
Greedy boy. 
Back in the limousine, the boy in question was nervously tapping the corner of his phone against his chin as he waited for your reply. 
1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅
Oh? But you saw me walk in… and I’m already in bed.
Taehyung growled in frustration. 
She would be a tease. 
To: Angel 🤬🥵😅
I tend to worry. Put my mind at ease. 
He shook his head. 
I have officially gone insane. 
The phone buzzed again. 
1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅
Well… We can’t have that can we… 
Taehyung literally felt the whine tear out of him as he opened the picture. 
Your gorgeous body (the body he’d had his hands and mouth on for one glorious minute) was nestled decadently atop a pile of fluffy blue blankets and wrapped in nothing but a tiny silk robe. 
The neck gaped open just enough to show off the pretty red marks he left on the delectable curve of your breast. 
He groaned, biting down hard on his bottom lip.
To: Angel 🤬🥵😅
That's all I get after I made the pain go away? Good girls send real proof, Angel
The screen lit up again almost immediately. 
1 New Message from: Angel 🤬🥵😅
Guess I’m not such a good girl after all...
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Jimin came tearing through the Kim Manor front gate at precisely 7 AM—only to find Jungkook camped out at the entrance with several outdoor space heaters and a giant mug of hot chocolate.
“He told you not to let me in, didn’t he?”
Jungkook took a long satisfying sip of his cocoa. 
“I hope you don’t feel singled out, sir. I’m not allowed to let his mother in either.”
“I need to talk to him.”
“Of course, Mr. Park, let me just pull up his schedule—”
“I need to talk to him now.”
“I’m afraid Mr. Kim is booked solid for the morning.”
Jimin stomped his foot like a petulant child. 
“I know he’s up there.”
Jungkook grinned. 
“You’re welcome to climb the trellis and check. I promise not to stop you if you make it all the way up.”
“COME DOWN HERE AND FACE ME YOU COWARD!” Jimin shouted at the top of his lungs. 
Jungkook took another long pull of his drink. 
“Might I inquire as to the reason for your visit today, sir?”
“The reason for my visit,” Jimin yanked out his phone and angrily began typing into the search bar, “is that your boss paid ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS for my sister at a date auction last night and I want to know what the hell is going on between them!”
The article Jimin pulled up (DEVILISH KIM TAEHYUNG BUYS HIMSELF A $100,000 ANGEL) featured an image of the two of you entering the Black and White Ball. Your head was thrown back in laughter and Taehyung was grinning down at you as if you’d personally hung all the stars in the sky for him. 
A genuine smile crept over Jungkook’s face as he studied the photograph. 
“That’s quite a headline.” He handed Jimin’s phone back. “Have you asked your sister about it?”
“No, I swung by earlier, but she wasn’t home so—” His eyes widened. “Oh my—is she—”
Jimin suddenly took off running for the trellis, and Jungkook scrambled out of his chair to chase him. 
He was already three feet off the ground when Jungkook yanked him back. 
“I thought you said I could climb the trellis!”
“Yes,” Jungkook wheezed, “but I didn’t think you’d actually do it!” That trellis is a hundred years old! A few more feet and I’d be scraping you off the antique brickwork!”
Jimin scowled and crossed his arms. 
“Are you by any chance open to bribes?”
“Normally yes, but Tae promised to double my Christmas bonus if I didn’t accept them today.”
Jimin continued to eye the trellis speculatively, clearly willing to take his chances. Jungkook sighed and rubbed his forehead. 
“Mr. Park, I promise you… He came home alone last night. In fact, they both returned earlier than usual because your sister had a 7 AM finance meeting.” He paused significantly to glance at his watch. “Which is probably where she is right now.”
“Oh… Well.”
Jungkook bit his lip to hold back a snort and Jimin’s eyes narrowed. 
“He has to come down eventually.”
“One would think.”
The young Park heir glanced toward Taehyung’s window again just in time to see the man in question dart back behind the curtains. 
Jimin made another jump for the trellis and this time Jungkook caught him in mid-air. 
“Sir, I’m sure it was just the maid!”
“It’s not the maid! I’d know that raggedy mop of his anywhere!”
Jungkook was out of breath at this point. Park Jimin might be small, but he was fierce. 
“Perhaps it’s best if you took a moment to collect yourself,” he grunted. “There’s a lovely new spa down the street and they sent Taehyung two free deluxe packages.”
Jimin stopped struggling. 
Five minutes later, Jungkook sighed deeply and fished his phone out of his back pocket. 
“He’s gone, sir.”
“Excellent work, Jungkook. I never doubted you for a second.”
“... However?”
“I had to give him your spa passes.”
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“Are you headed for a gala or the guillotine?”
Taehyung rolled his eyes. 
“I don’t pay extra for commentary.”
“It’s complimentary, sir.”
The Kim heir tugged absently at the material of his absurdly expensive evening wear. 
Why do these events always have to be so uncomfortable? 
“Seriously, Tae… you seem,” the young aide searched for the right words, “unusually tense.”
Taehyung’s mind flashed back to three nights ago when he had his mouth wrapped around your breast. 
“Not at all,” he coughed, loosening the collar of his shirt. 
Jungkook bit his lip.
“Is this about Ms. Park, sir?”
The cufflinks Taehyung was attempting to fasten suddenly went flying across the room and hit a lamp. 
Both men winced. 
“I think that was your grandmother’s.”
Taehyung sighed. 
“I admit there have been… some developments.”
Jungkook nodded nonchalantly, trying to disguise the fact that he was internally frothing at the mouth for details. 
“... Such as?”
Taehyung gulped. 
“It started out rather innocently I suppose…” he cleared his throat, “but there may have been some suggestive photographs.”
“There may have been? Are you not sure?”
Taehyung colored guiltily. 
“Do you need me to check for you, sir? I have an art history degree.”
“Absolutely not.”
Jungkook grinned. 
“That’s what I thought.”
Taehyung yanked his tie out of the younger man’s hand. 
“Things have… escalated a bit.”
“Escalated how?”
I licked her tit in the back of a limo.
It was everything Jungkook could do to maintain a straight face. 
“That’s… shocking.”
“Then why don’t you seem shocked?” Taehyung grumbled. 
A small smile played across Jungkook’s lips as he pointedly ignored the elder man’s observation.
“So what are you going to do, sir?”
Taehyung was silent for a long moment. 
“I honestly have no idea.”
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Watching you walk toward him was an experience.  
Taehyung wondered absently if this was how it would be from now on; if for the rest of his life just the sight of you would be enough to scatter his mind and his pulse and even the way he breathed. 
Your dress tonight was deadly. 
It was a decadent red satin halter that clung to every curve. The truly wicked detail, however, was a daring slit that ran the entire length of your leg. 
Taehyung was certain he was going to trip over his own tongue at some point if he looked directly at you for too long. 
Oh help. 
Memories of your previous encounter flooded his senses. Every second you were getting closer and he didn’t know what to do—what to say. 
So he didn’t say anything at all. 
Not a word when you reached the bottom of the stairs. Nothing but silence as he opened the door of the limo for you. More silence and no eye contact as he settled into the seat across from yours—
And you tolerated that for about three minutes. 
“I never thought I’d see the day when Kim Taehyung didn’t have a comment about something. Perhaps I should mark this down on my calendar.”
The words were lightly spoken, but you were shaking on the inside. The last time the two of you were alone together he had your dress around your waist and you were moaning his name. Now he wasn’t talking and you were torn between panic and irritation. 
Taehyung, however, latched onto your passive barb like a lifeline. 
“Is that a hint of sarcasm I hear from the benevolent Park Angel?” He grinned. “Surely not.”
“Red is not a particularly angelic color. Perhaps I’m feeling feisty today.”
Taehyung leaned back in his seat and indulged himself in a thorough examination of your outfit. The urge to run his hands over the satin-covered lines of your body was nearly unbearable. He curled his fingers into fists to keep them from doing just that. 
She is definitely trying to kill me. 
“Should I be worried?”
Now it was your turn to grin. 
“I guess we’ll find out.”
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The Governor’s Winter Wonderland Gala was by far the most extravagant event of the holiday season. Tickets cost a small fortune and sold out almost immediately. 
But it was well worth the price of admission.
Thousands of lights sparkled overhead as you made your way through the great hall of Governor Kim’s mansion. 
It was like stepping into a fairytale. 
Taehyung couldn’t take his eyes off you. The sheer wonder in your expression was breathtaking. 
You were breathtaking.  
“Governor Kim, it is such an honor to finally meet you.”
The Governor was a handsome man in his early fifties with a smile that was every bit as lethal as it had been twenty-five years ago. 
“The honor is all mine, Ms. Park. I trust my nephew is treating you well.”
Your eyes widened. 
Taehyung shrugged. 
“I don’t really talk about it much.” 
The Governor chuckled and you cleared your throat to cover your nervousness. 
“Yes, he’s been a very capable escort.”
“Is that so?” Governor Kim smiled charmingly. “Well if it doesn’t work out, my son Seokjin is still single—”
“Thank you, Uncle. It was lovely to see you as always.”
You squeaked as Taehyung placed his hand firmly on the curve of your back and practically dragged you away. 
The Governor just shook his head and laughed. 
“Oh kid, you’ve got it bad.”
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Everywhere you looked there was beauty. 
Whoever planned the gala this year had truly gone above and beyond. Surrounded on all sides by glittering trees and snowy vignettes, it was easy to be swept away in the festive magic of the evening. 
All in all (despite some initial awkwardness), you were having a fantastic time...
Until she showed up. 
“Kim Taehyung! Is that you?”
Every single hair on your body stood on end, but before you could determine the source of the shrill squealing, you found yourself being nudged aside by a blinding golden gown and some very high heels. 
“Aubrey,” Taehyung grunted as five-and-half feet of gorgeous wrapped herself around him like a clinging vine. “Long time no see.”
“Not since that vacation in Aspen,” she giggled. “We had quite a time, didn’t we Tae Tae!”
Suddenly you had the most unholy urge to slap the spray tan right off this woman. 
Instead, you plastered on a vibrant smile and placed your hand on Taehyung’s sleeve.
“Um. Excuse me, Tae Tae, perhaps you could introduce us?”
Taehyung looked as if he’d just been served raw fire ants for dinner. 
“Yes. Of course. This is—”
“Aubrey Alicia St. Valentine,” she interrupted with a smug little smirk. “Taehyung and I go way back.” Her expression grew just the slightest bit tighter. “And you are?”
“His date,” you deadpanned. 
“Aubrey,” Taehyung cleared his throat, “I’d like you to meet Ms. Park she’s—”
“Oh my goodness! You’re Jimin’s little sister aren't you!” Aubrey slapped her hand over his chest and he winced. “That is so precious of you to take her around like this!”
Your eyebrows raised right up into your hairline and Taehyung groaned. 
“Yes, he was kind enough to sign me out of the nursery for the evening.” You offered them both a painfully vacant nod. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I see one of my play-dates near the buffet.”
Then you turned on your heel and sauntered off without another word. 
Taehyung moved to follow you, but Aubrey curled her fingers into the crook of his arm and pulled him back. 
“Oh let her go, Tae. You and I have so much catching up to do.”
Taehyung pointedly removed her hand from his elbow. 
“Some other time perhaps.” 
Aubrey pouted prettily. 
“You’re not running off after her are you? She’s a big girl, she can take care of herself.”
Taehyung crossed his arms and fixed her with a knowing look. 
“Funny... that’s not what you were implying a moment ago.”
“A moment ago I didn’t have you all to myself. Now I do.” She had the decency to blush. “Perhaps I got a bit jealous.”
“You don’t say.” His eyes continued to search the crowd for any sign of you. 
“It seems I had good reason to be,” she murmured quietly. 
“Aubrey... Listen I—”
She cut him off with a finger to his lips.
“Don’t bother Tae Tae. I’m petty, but I’ve never been pathetic.”
He grinned. 
The lady sighed and gave him a heated once over.
“What a shame.”
Then she strolled off with a rueful smile. 
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“You know what I don’t understand?”
You turn to find Min Yoongi leaning casually against a nearby column. He looked absurdly handsome as always, but his grin was just the slightest bit mischievous. 
“What don’t you understand, Mr. Min?”
The question was clearly a bait, but you were still fuming from your earlier encounter with Ms. St. Valentine and therefore desperately in need of a distraction. 
Yoongi pushed off the column and lazily made his way toward you.
“I don’t understand how a man pays a hundred thousand dollars for an evening with the most beautiful woman in the city, and then leaves her all by herself.” He leaned forward with a playful grin. “Perhaps you could enlighten me?”
Oh he’s good. 
You made a show of tapping your chin thoughtfully. 
“I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for that one.”
Yoongi sighed and shook his head. 
“Couldn’t be me.”
You laughed then. He really was a delightful man. In fact, if you still had your heart, you might have considered letting him take a shot at it. 
You tilted your head speculatively. 
Surely there was no need to brush away good company...
After all, no one else is interested in spending time with me. 
“Since my escort is otherwise occupied, perhaps you could join me for dinner?”
Yoongi held out his hand. 
“I’d be delighted.”
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Taehyung wandered around the mansion for nearly forty-five minutes looking for his date.  
Panic was just starting to build in his chest when he finally spotted you
—at his private dining table with Min Yoongi. 
It was everything he could do not to storm over and yank the other man out of his seat by the lapels. 
Alright, Angel. If this is the game you want to play… then let’s play. 
Taehyung felt his anger rise with every step, but he ruthlessly suppressed any sign of it and instead adopted a charming smile. 
“Min, I didn’t expect to find you here. What a… delightful surprise.”
Yoongi’s expression was just a shade too satisfied. Taehyung could already feel his blood pressure beginning to skyrocket. 
“Yes, Ms. Park believed that you were otherwise occupied and invited me to share the meal with her.”
“I see,” Taehyung practically snarled. “However,” his gaze landed heavily on you, “since I paid for this table, I hope you won’t mind if I join you as well?”
You avoided looking at him up to this point, but now you were choking on your wine
“Easy there, Angel,” Taehyung murmured as he pulled up a seat extremely close to yours—so close that your thighs were nearly touching. 
Oh boy. 
Over the next several minutes Yoongi continued to flirt openly and you continued to smile prettily and pretend Taehyung wasn’t there (which naturally infuriated him). 
You should have known he wouldn’t let you get away with such behavior so easily. 
This was Kim Taehyung, after all, and if there was anything that could be counted on when it came to your shared history, it was that one (or both) of you was always ready to escalate. 
You had just offered the young Min heir yet another flowery compliment when you felt Taehyung make his move. 
Two warm fingers slid under the silken slit of your dress, coming to rest possessively over the soft flesh of your inner thigh. 
You squeaked and nearly spat up your drink. 
Taehyung leaned forward in fake concern, wrapping his arm around you as if to offer aid. 
“Are you alright?”
His hand continued to move significantly beneath your gown, but his face was the picture of innocence. 
You glared. 
“Just fine, thank you.”
A slow grin crept across his features as he began to trace soft intimate patterns over your skin.  
On the other side of the table, Yoongi tilted his head in genuine solicitude. “Are you sure?”
You nodded sharply. 
Satisfied, he resumed speaking about whatever it was he’d been saying—though you couldn’t understand a word of it at this point because the torturous strokes Taehyung was leisurely drawing over your thighs were moving closer to your center with each passing second. 
Yet you made no move to stop him. 
You should have. 
You should have slapped his touch away—rebuked him for his boldness—
But you didn’t. 
So he just kept nodding and smiling while Yoongi spoke, even as his fingers teased you with the maddening persistence of a man who knew very well what he was doing. 
You gasped aloud when he finally brushed the pad of his thumb over the thin cotton of your panties. 
“Hmm?” he turned to you, seemingly surprised by your attention (it was—after all—the first time you’d addressed him since the beginning of the meal).
“Could you pass me the salt,” you sputtered (hoping to cover the fact that you moaned his name involuntarily). Unfortunately, Taehyung seemed wholly aware of your ruse, offering you the salt shaker with a superior smirk.
You seriously considered stabbing him with a fork. 
However, before you could carry out any bloodthirsty plans, he pressed his fingers directly over your clit and your eyes rolled back in your head
“Oh my g—” you bit your lip stubbornly, “this lamb is just so good.” 
Sweet mother of macaroons, he is too skilled at this. 
You shoveled another bite into your mouth to cover your whine as Taehyung began to rub tight little circles over your sweet spot. 
Across the table, Yoongi nodded in blissful unawareness. 
“Yes, I agree, the lamb is excellent—very tender.”
Taehyung took advantage of the momentary distraction to slip beneath the fabric of your undergarment. 
Your fork clattered to your plate and your hand came up to cover your mouth as he began running his fingers up and down your soaked slit.
It was everything you could do to hold back your depraved whimpering. 
“I can’t wait to taste it,” Taehyung replied, flicking your clit in a way that guaranteed he wasn’t referring to the lamb. 
At this point Yoongi seemed to notice you were in some sort of distress. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and leaned forward. 
“Ms. Park, are you well?”
Taehyung chose that moment to sink his finger into the welcoming heat of your pussy. 
“Yes,” you almost sobbed, “I’m-I’m very well—thank you.”
“Excellent,” Yoongi smiled as he rose to his feet. “If you’re feeling up to it, perhaps you could favor me with a dance?”
Several attendees were already making their way to the center of the floor and the orchestra was beginning to play.
Your entire body, however, was vibrating like a plucked harp string and Taehyung was still brushing back and forth against your clit, driving you toward a release that promised to be explosive. 
There was no way—simply no way—that you would be capable of hiding it. 
“Yes! I would love to dance with you,” you squeaked, grabbing hold of Taehyung’s wrist frantically. The feel of him pulling out of your sopping core was nearly enough to have you coming right there. 
Thankfully, Yoongi remained utterly oblivious to the debauchery unfolding beneath the table. He took your hand and helped you to your feet with an eager smile (and it was a good thing too because your legs were still shaking). 
When the two of you reached the dance floor, you turned back for the briefest instant—
just long enough to meet Taehyung’s heated gaze as his lips closed over the finger he buried in your cunt. 
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Emotions were a funny thing. 
They impacted your judgement, affected your body, altered your behavior… 
And occasionally eroded your common sense. 
Sitting alone in the corner of the Governor’s ballroom, Kim Taehyung found himself experiencing a full spectrum of emotional side-effects. 
His hands clenched as he watched Min Yoongi spin you around the floor. 
His heart pounded every time he caught a flash of your shapely leg peeking through the slit in your gown. 
His blood boiled when you threw your head back and laughed at something the other man said. 
It was difficult to pinpoint which emotion was to blame for each of these reactions. There were certainly a number of them boiling over in his subconscious. 
I didn’t even want to talk to Aubrey! How are you acting like anything she said was my fault?!
Why is challenging people to duels illegal? I would fight Min Yoongi at dawn. I would fight Min Yoongi now. 
You asked her to dance while my fingers were in her pussy. We are not the same. 
But perhaps the most persistent—the most overwhelming— emotion twisting through him was longing. 
You and Taehyung spent nearly four years apart, and he was so desperate to be near you—even then—that he resorted to childish pranks in order to remain a part of your life. 
He hadn’t recognized his actions or desires for what they were. He hadn’t realized what you meant to him...
But now, after spending the last several days with your hand on his arm and your laughter in his ear, he could no longer imagine spending another moment without you. 
Everything seemed to crystallize as he watched you laughing and dancing in the arms of another man. 
Uncertainty became clear. Complications became simple. 
And when he saw Min Yoongi’s hand slide dangerously close to the perfect swell of your backside—
Emotion became action.
“Mind if I cut in?”
It wasn’t a question really. Taehyung was already shouldering his rival out of the way and pulling you into his arms. 
“Taehyung,” you hissed, shooting the bewildered Yoongi an apologetic look over his shoulder, “what are you doing? This is so rude—”
“You’re absolutely right,” he agreed, sweeping you through the couples on the floor with practiced ease. “It is unpardonably rude to steal someone else’s date. He’s lucky all I did was steal you back.”
Your mouth dropped open. 
“Oh? So you finally remembered that I was your date?”
Taehyung’s grip on the curve of your waist became a shade rougher as he pulled you through the next turn. 
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means—” you stepped forward vigorously, nearly smashing your body into his, “—that you spent forty-five minutes with Aubrey Alicia St. Valentine when you were supposed to be having dinner with me!”
Taehyung growled and yanked you flush against him. 
“I spent forty-five minutes looking for you while you were giving away my table to Min Yoongi!”
The two of you sailed through the next several movements glaring at one another before you snapped again. 
“None of this would have happened if you had just told Aubrey St. Spray Tan that you were with me—”
“I did!”
“Instead, you let her call me a baby!”
“What let? Aubrey is a grown woman!”
“And—you stormed off before I could say anything, so how would you know what I let?”
“You didn’t come after me!”
“Yes actually I did—but she grabbed my arm!”
“Really? Well what else did she grab?”
Taehyung abruptly realized how silent everything around you had become. 
People were staring—and not even discreetly— just full on staring with their mouths hanging open. 
Well that’s great. 
Taehyung’s hand closed around yours and you suddenly found yourself being marched across the dance floor at a breakneck pace.
“What are you doing?”
“Continuing this discussion in private.”
“We can’t just go somewhere private in the Governor’s mansion!” you sputtered, struggling to keep up with his larger strides. 
“You mean in my uncle’s house? Yes—actually we can—and we will.”
Taehyung proved to be a man of his word, dragging you past two security guards and into the roped off section of the manor with nothing more than a nod. 
The residential wing of the Governor’s home was beautifully decorated with traditional Korean artistic touches—all of which you were unable to appreciate while Taehyung was speed walking you through the halls. 
After a surprising amount of turns and archways, he yanked open an ornate wooden door with the words Reflection Suite written on a plaque above it in beautiful calligraphy. 
You almost giggled when you got a look inside. 
On the surface it was a tastefully furnished guest room with a simple cherry wood desk and a cozy double bed set in an elegant matching frame.
The ceiling and one full wall were nothing but massive mirrors. 
Reflection suite indeed. 
The door slammed shut and Taehyung rounded on you with a stormy expression—though you weren’t waiting on him to fire the first volley.
“This is definitely going to get us in trouble.”
“I told you, I can go wherever I want in this house. It’s fine.”
“Then why did you take us here?”
“Because you were shouting—”
“I was shouting?! You were shouting I just—”
Suddenly your back was against the wall and Taehyung’s mouth was on yours. 
He hadn’t brought you here for this. When he grabbed your hand, he was only trying to get away from the crowds. He told himself that he needed privacy so you could talk—so he could clarify things. 
But the minute the door closed and you flared up again in all your magnificent rage, he was lost. 
He had to kiss you then. 
You were so lovely. So fierce. So wildly irresistible and he was too utterly smitten to fight the need to be near you—to be with you in every way that he could—for a single second more. 
The shock of Kim Taehyung pressing his lips to yours lasted about two full seconds—and then there was nothing but ravenous insatiable need. 
Everything was him. 
Everything was this—this sweet indescribable ignition of a desire that spanned years. You moaned eagerly against his mouth in wanton delight. After a decade of sparks, you were more than ready to burn. 
His name poured out of you like a prayer. You needed him everywhere and miraculously he seemed to understand—
Not that he was prepared to be polite about it. 
“Where’s that smart mouth now, Angel?” he growled, tangling his hands in your hair to expose the tender column of your throat. “Nothing to say?”
Your only answer was a desperate whine as he spread hot-open mouthed kisses down the soft skin of your neck all the way to your collarbone.
Now was not the time for patience. He would be tender with you later. You absolutely deserved soft sweet caresses and slow leisurely love making and he was absolutely going to give them to you—every day if you’d let him. 
But not today. 
The minute his mouth encountered the barrier of your dress, he gripped onto the sides and yanked it down to your waist.
“You knew just what you were doing in the back of that limo, you little brat,” he hissed, taking one swollen nipple into his mouth and tormenting it with his tongue.
“Tae-ahhh!” Your back arched involuntarily in ruthless pleasure. 
“I spent hours—days even—wanting to get my hands on these perfect tits.” He licked the other nipple obscenely, squeezing the soft mound till it bulged through his fingers. “And you offered me the barest taste with that coy little grin, knowing it wouldn’t be enough—” 
He reared back and landed a firm slap on both breasts and you screamed.
It was so so good. 
“Look at them now,” he murmured, “so swollen and needy and mine.”
If any other man had said those words, you would have cut his heart out with a butter knife. 
But you had always belonged to this man body and soul, and to hear him acknowledge it so primitively felt like the sweetest vindication. 
“Yes!” you sobbed.
The affirmation only inflamed him further. He teased and fondled the tender flesh till you were shaking.
Your fingers curled into the soft waves of his hair as he indulged himself. He looked so ridiculously good sucking your nipple, moaning lewdly with his eyes pressed shut in cathartic bliss. 
“This is all your fault, Angel,” he groaned. “You just don’t know how to behave.”
His hands gripped the curve of your backside, lifting you right off the floor and into his arms. Your mouths fused together heatedly as he carried you to the bed, and you giggled against him when his words finally processed. 
“You’ve been saying that for years.” 
“It’s been true for years,” he muttered, pulling one of your legs up around him so he could grind against your cunt while you kissed. 
Your fingers tugged at the buttons of his shirt, tearing them off when they didn’t unhook fast enough. You waited too long to be with him like this to care about anything other than the feel of his skin against your own.
“Impatient, are we?” he chuckled, bringing his lips around to nip at your ear. 
“You’re one to talk,” you shot back, yanking the ruined garment right off his shoulder just so you could sink your teeth into it. 
Taehyung moaned loudly, snapping his hips against yours with an involuntary jerk.
“You really are such a brat,” he hissed, fisting his hands in the satin length of your skirt. “Let’s see how fierce you are with my tongue in your pussy—”
His words were so filthy and raw, yet they stoked a frenzied need in your belly like nothing you had ever encountered. 
“This dress is evil,” he snarled, fumbling with the zipper for a moment before switching to a more destructive tactic. “It has tormented me all night and now it’s in my way.”
The stitching proved no match for his resolve, and—after a few vigorous tugs—he ripped it apart from the slit on up, leaving you covered in nothing but the thin cotton underwear he had breached earlier that evening. 
After disposing of your shredded gown, Taehyung paused for a moment just to take in the sight of you. 
“What a perfect little angel,” he taunted playfully, snapping the band of your lingerie against your hips with a cocky grin. 
Then he brushed his nose right up against the sopping fabric and inhaled deeply. “You smell just like heaven,” he growled before licking you right through the cloth, “and you taste even better.”
The sensations twisting through your body were merciless. You needed more or you were going to shake apart. 
“Taehyung please,” you whined, pressing against him shamelessly.
“Oh a please?” he chuckled, throwing your own words from the first night back at you. “Who knew you had manners?”
You would have screamed in frustration, but he cut you off with an open mouthed kiss right over the wettest part of your panties.
“Perhaps I can make a good girl of you yet,” he chuckled, as you opened yourself wider to encourage him. 
You nodded frantically, letting out another moan when he yanked the flimsy little scrap of lace down your legs—smearing a line of arousal over your thighs.
“So messy,” he tsked, tapping his finger right above your knee where the naughty little streak ended. “What am I going to do with you?” 
Then he pressed his tongue over the shiny trail of slick and licked it right off. 
You gasped loudly and his lascivious smirk was almost beautiful enough to make up for all of the shameless teasing. 
"You want my mouth, pretty Angel?” he whispered, letting the words brush maddeningly against your folds. “You want me to feed on this sweet little cunt?”
Every cell in your body cried out for release. He already edged you under the table at dinner and now he was determined to unravel you entirely. You would say anything—do anything. 
"Please—" you whispered.
"Please who?" 
Normally you met his arrogance with a cutting riposte, but an entire evening of methodical torment had left you beyond desperate. 
"Please Taehyung,” you begged needily. 
He grinned. 
“That’s right, Angel. Kim Taehyung. Not Min Yoongi or any other pathetic trust fund prick that’s panting for a taste of this pussy.” His eyes fastened on yours significantly. “You belong to me.”
Then his tongue licked a flat stripe over your glistening slit and you sagged onto the bed in relief—only to be thrown back into oblivion when his lips closed over your clit. 
Your body arched involuntarily as a ruthless wave of pleasure tore through you. Your eyes and mouth flew open in a silent scream and it was in that moment you remembered exactly where you were. 
Underneath a giant mirror. 
The passionate woman staring down at you was nearly unrecognizable. Her body was littered with her lover’s marks. Her hands gripped feverishly into the sheets beneath her—-
And Kim Taehyung was kneeling between her thighs, suckling on her weeping cunt with obscene satisfaction. 
It was the sexiest thing you had ever seen in your life. 
Your hands reached down to tangle in his hair, using it for leverage as you ground against his face. 
Then suddenly his grip on your legs tightened and his tongue plunged roughly into your trembling core. 
“Tae—ahh oh my—I can’t—”
The sensation was so intense that your hips bucked violently. You could not keep still. You were charging towards an explosion and your body was shaking itself apart. 
The noises tearing from you were incoherent. Everything around you focused in on the juncture of your thighs where Taehyung was licking inside of you again and again until—
You shattered. 
And the force of it nearly bent your back in half. 
Delirious sobs poured from your lips as he worked you through it, letting the obscene flood of your cum soak his face. 
The sight of him slowly lapping at the release between your folds, was unspeakably erotic. He ran his hands in soothing circles over your skin while you twitched and fluttered back down from your high. 
Then he was kissing you again. 
It was softer this time, but you felt truly depraved—and instantly obsessed—with the taste of yourself in his mouth—on his skin.
You could barely understand this ravenous hunger. You’d just found relief, yet you were already reaching for more. 
Your hands snaked down and wrapped around his still covered cock and he hissed in ragged pleasure. 
“So eager,” he gasped, as you pushed him back against the headboard—but you didn’t have time to bother with his teasing.
You were gonna blow Kim Taehyung into space. 
He bit his lip when you yanked down his pants and boxers together, freeing his arousal with stunning efficiency. 
It was almost unfair to discover that his cock was every bit as beautiful as he was.
“Of course,” you muttered. 
The sultry smirk he shot you in return had your cunt flooding all over again.
“You think Min Yoongi has a cock like mine?”
“I don’t think about Min Yoongi’s cock,” you retorted, wrapping your hand around his length, “you’ve always been the biggest dick I’ve ever met.” 
“I knew you thought about my dick,” he groaned as you began to work up and down the swollen shaft. 
After a moment, his hand slid over your chin to grip your hair, drawing you forward till your lips were almost touching. 
“I wonder what this pretty mouth can do,” he whispered. 
You gasped against him and he smiled. 
“Do you know how often I pictured your lips around my cock, Angel?”
You mewled shamelessly and he growled, cupping your cheek as your hands continued to service him. 
“Do you know how often I imagined this perfect throat stuffed full of my cum?” 
His palm slid down to lightly grip the soft flesh of your neck and you shuddered against him with a needy whimper. 
“I know you could suck me so good, Angel. I’ve wanted it for so so long...”
Your mouth actually watered with anticipation. 
The desire to be good for him—to give him whatever he asked for—consumed you. 
Taehyung let his head fall back against the headboard with a groan at the first brush of your lips along his shaft. His hips rutted involuntarily as your tongue wrapped around the tip and you hummed with pleasure at his enthusiastic response. 
After a moment you slid him into the welcoming heat of your mouth, taking him in as far as you could in one stroke. His jaw dropped open and his entire body jerked forward. 
“Yes, that’s it, Angel—feels so good.”
His praise was addictive. 
You loved that you could bring him to this. You loved to see the haughty Kim Taehyung coming apart as you sucked him. 
It made you feel beautiful—powerful even—and you reveled in every second of it. 
Your eyes were starting to tear. His length began to throb and pulse against your tongue and you knew he was close—so close you could almost taste him—
Yet suddenly he was pulling you back and you whined pitifully at the loss. 
Taehyung chuckled, dragging you toward him till your dripping core slid across his cock.
“I’m not coming before I get inside that pretty little pussy,” he swore, working your hips over his sex till it was drenched in arousal. 
The crass words filled you with the fiercest, most incredible want and you clenched reflexively against him in response. 
“Is that what you want?” Taehyung whispered as he bore you back into the mattress, pinning both your wrists above your head. “You want me to fill your empty little cunt?”
You did. 
You wanted it so so bad. 
Taehyung gently lowered himself closer to you, resting his forehead intimately against yours as he lined up his cock at your entrance. 
“Are you sure, Angel? Because there’s no going back after this... If you give yourself to me, then you’re mine—and I’ll fight tooth and nail to keep you.”
“Taehyung, you idiot,”—a tender smile spread over your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck—“... I’ve always been yours.”
He swore violently—letting the slight tremble in his voice betray just how deeply your words affected him. 
Then his fingers tightened on the soft flesh of your hip and he filled you to the hilt with one delicious thrust. 
There was a moment—the smallest space in time—where your eyes locked together and everything seemed to suspend; a strange perfect calm before a monumental storm. 
Then your world caught fire. 
Taehyung drove himself into you with passionate fury, letting years of denial fuel the insatiable rhythm of his strokes. 
Every time he told himself no. Every time he held himself back—
Every bit of it burned away as you screamed his name. 
The feel of him was indescribable. 
You imagined it too many times to count, yet your dreams fell pitifully short of the visceral reality. 
He was bloomin’ magnificent. 
Your fingers clawed up and down his back, desperate to hold on to something while he pounded into your g-spot like an animal. 
“This tiny cunt is the tightest thing I’ve ever had around my cock,” he gasped and you whined needily at his praise. “Like it was made for me—” his hand came up to grip your breast, “like you were made for me.”
Taehyung’s need seemed to amplify with every whimper and moan that fell from your lips. The feelings you sparked in him were fierce and unapologetically primitive.
He would go to war for you—build a fortress for you—fight a dragon if one dared come close. 
You were his. 
And he felt like a savage every time you cried out for more. 
Suddenly an unexpected movement in his periphery caught his attention.
He’d been so consumed with the extraordinary rush of claiming you that he’d forgotten—
This guest room was thirty-five percent mirrors. 
And now… he couldn’t look away. 
The sight of your bodies tangling together in headless bliss played out before him like a scene from his most debauched and forbidden fantasies. His reflection grinned back at him in fascinated ecstasy while his beloved nemesis lost herself in the pleasure of his cock.
Something dark and wild began to burn in his chest as he studied the lovers in the glass. 
“Look at you, Angel,” he whispered softly, “you really are perfect.”
Then he pulled out of your core and you whined bitterly in protest, chasing his body to rid yourself of the sudden unacceptable emptiness. 
“Still so needy,” he taunted, gripping your hips and flipping you on your stomach before you could even think to protest.
“I want you to watch that pretty angel in the mirror come on my cock,” he groaned, plunging back into you from behind. 
The new angle was somehow impossibly deeper and your body shook as another wave of pleasure overtook it. 
Your fingers clawed into the mattress for purchase as he pistoned into your trembling mound. 
Only Kim Taehyung could rail you like a whore while he worshiped you like a queen. 
He gave you a moment to adjust before drawing your body back against his chest. His arm wrapped over your stomach as he slowly eased your legs apart, unfolding the lewd tableau of your bodies joined together for the voyeuristic gaze of the glass.   
“Look at yourself, Angel,” he growled, mesmerized by the way your breasts bounced with every thrust. “Look at how well you're taking me.” 
Then his fingers slid down to rub your clit and you screamed. 
“Tae! Ah-ahh!”
The pleasure building within you now was violent. You were coiling too tightly, too fast—
“That’s right Angel. Take it all.”
Your eyes locked with his in the mirror for the briefest instant.
And then you flew apart. 
Taehyung threw his head back with a carnal moan as you clamped down around him. His body was hurtling toward its own release with reckless speed. 
“I’m close,” he panted, “where can I come?”
“Come inside me please,” you begged, and Taehyung’s eyes widened in frenzied lust. 
“That’s what you want? Huh?” his thrusts became rougher as he chased his relief, “You want me to fill this puffy little pussy with my cum?”
“Yes, I want it so bad—“ you sobbed. 
“Sweet Angel,” he groaned, gripping at your breasts as he pulled you tighter against him. 
Then he met your gaze in the mirror again. 
“I want everything with you; a home—a family—your body in my arms every morning when I wake up—” his voice trembled, “I want it all.” 
The raw vulnerability in his eyes nearly broke you.
“Tae,” you gasped softly, too overcome with joy to manage anything else. 
His mouth pressed hungrily against the curve of your shoulder. You could feel his cock throbbing in your core as he bent you forward, pounding into your sex with exquisite precision. 
"Stay with me, Angel,” he whispered. His thrusts became erratic as he neared his high. “I don’t want to live without you anymore.”
The glorious thrill of his words tore over your senses with euphoric brutality. Your walls tightened greedily around his cock and the taunt cord of pleasure finally snapped. 
He came with a broken groan, flooding the welcoming heat of your womb with his release. 
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The sound of his name being shouted by the absolute last person in the world whose voice he wanted to hear woke Taehyung from a dead sleep.  
His eyes widened in panic as he began yanking pillows and covers from all over the bed in a frenzied attempt to hide—
The doors to his bedroom flew open with a resounding crash. 
“Jimin,” he squeaked, trying to look as casual as possible next to a giant pile of bedding. “What uh—what brings you here at—” his eyes darted to the clock on the wall, “—7:30 in the morning?”
Then he frowned. 
“And how the hell did you get past Jungkook?”
Jimin’s murderous expression broke momentarily to allow for a smug grin. 
Kendra Jackson was Jimin’s executive aide. She was fierce, capable, intelligent—
And insanely gorgeous. 
Taehyung groaned. 
Poor Jungkookie never stood a chance. 
To the surprise of absolutely no one, yet another newspaper landed on Taehyung’s lap.
Underneath the headline was a picture of you and Taehyung (dressed in clothes you stole from Jin’s childhood bedroom) kissing passionately against the side entrance of the Governor’s mansion. 
One of your legs was wrapped around his waist and he was clearly grabbing your ass. 
“Ah… well you see the camera distorts everything from this angle—and-and the lighting is bad so it’s not really what it looks like—”
“Is that so? Cause it looks like you’ve got your tongue down my baby sister’s throat!”
“Okay—okay,” Taehyung massaged his forehead nervously, “so maybe it’s sort of what it looks like but—”
“I’ll kill you.”
“No wait—” he held up his hands to delay an already advancing Jimin. 
“Why should I wait?!”
“—I trusted you with the most important person in the world to me—”
“The situation is just not that simple.” 
“—and you grabbed her ass in public!”
“Admittedly not my finest hour.”
“So you tell me right now—”
“But you don’t understand it’s—”
“—Why the hell would I wait?!”
For a moment there was absolute silence. 
Then your head popped out from the massive pile of bedding. 
Jimin’s mouth fell open. 
Taehyung groaned again. 
“As usual, your timing is impeccable.”
You rolled your eyes, ignoring his comment.
“Are you really in love with me?”
“Of course I’m in love with you! What part of I want you to have my children did you not understand?!” 
“I think I’m gonna be sick,” Jimin choked. 
“That’s not the same thing!”
“It is for me!”
A radiant smile lit up your face. 
“I’m in love with you too.”
Taehyung’s expression softened. 
“Angel I—”
Then you were kissing and Jimin swung around with a horrified shout.
“Oh! No no no—Come on!”
He stumbled out of the room, hands firmly clamped over his eyes. 
“This is not over, Kim Taehyung!” the scandalized young Park heir howled in exasperation… but there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 
Back in the bedroom, Taehyung shook his head at Jimin’s ridiculous caterwauling. 
“No, it’s not over,” he laughed, pulling you deeper into the comfort of his arms. “It’s only just begun.”
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Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story. 
This baby took FOR-EVER to write. I started it in November and literally worked on it a little every day. 
If you enjoyed it— even just a tiny bit—please consider taking a moment to leave me some feedback. It is so incredibly uplifting and rewarding to hear reader thoughts and reactions to my work.
I promise to treasure every word like gold. It took a lot to bring this story to life. Your kind words would mean the world to me.
4K notes · View notes
ppersonna · a year ago
waking up in vegas - jjk | m
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get up and shake the glitter off your clothes, now.  that's what you get for waking up in Vegas - waking up in vegas, katy perry
↳ summary- you know what they say. what happens in vegas, stays in vegas.  but, what happens when you accidentally marry your brother’s best friend?
↳ rating- explicit/18+/nsfw
↳ pairing- jeon jungkook x reader
↳ word count- 3.1k
↳ genre- fluff, smut, pwp with feels
↳ warnings- penetrative sex, fingering, unprotected sex (be smart friends), cream pies, light dirty talk, jungkook being cute af, slight nipple play
↳ a/n- well. i can’t tell you why i decided to write this, but i did.  and it’s cute? i hope you enjoy this! thanks to @taetaewonderland​ @kookiesjoonies​ for reading it over and for @ladyartemesia​ and @xjoonchildx​ for being the best hype team a lady could ask for.  i love uuuU!!!! feel free to hmu if you’d like!
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 It’s a splitting headache that wakes you up from your near comatose sleep.
Your eyes blink open and you groan when a sliver of light bores into your vision.  The curtains are closed but there’s just enough of a crack that the sunlight seeps in directly onto your face.
You roll over in the expansive hotel bed and hold a pillow to your face as you groan out loud.
What happened last night?
All you remember is being with the guys, celebrating your brother Namjoon’s upcoming nuptials by bar-hopping your way down the main strip of Las Vegas.
It all gets pretty blurry from there.
You know you’re in a hotel room and you hope it’s yours.  You can’t remember if you made it back to your own room or if you found someone to share the night with.  There had been that cute guy at the first bar who bought you a drink.  Maybe you’d gone home with him.
You chance a look at the bed and see a human-sized lump next to you, a tiny bit of black hair sticking out.
The black hair was nondescript, and you had no idea who it could be.  There surely were a thousand men in the greater Las Vegas area alone with black hair.  It could be anyone.
Looking around the room, you notice the decor is like that of your own hotel.  But the layout of the room is different.  You bite your lip as you notice you’re completely naked as well.  You’re in a stranger’s room and nude.  Well, at least you’re in the right hotel.
You’re desperate to know who the mystery person under the blankets is, but a war rages within you—should you grab whatever clothes you can find and book it before they wake up?  What if your beer goggles were a little too foggy last night?  How would you feel if you woke up next to someone 20 years older than you?  Or god forbid, younger than you?
A groan comes from the blankets beside you and you panic.  You quickly lay back down in bed and pretend to sleep, back turned to the stranger beside you.
“Fuuuuuck,” the voice grumbles as they emerge from the white cotton bunker they huddled under.
Your pulse froze in your veins.
That voice.  It was so familiar.  It couldn’t be.
You peek an eye out and see the back of a head, unruly black hair sticking out in different directions.  The man smacks his lips as he adjusts his eyes to the low light of the bedroom, before he turns and looks in your direction.
You nearly gasp in horror.
Jeon Jungkook stares at you with a dopey grin on his face. He’s shirtless, and you hate how your eyes can’t stop staring at the way his muscles ripple down his back.  Even in times of crisis you’re still achingly attracted to him.
Jeon Jungkook is your brother Namjoon’s best friend, soon-to-be best man at his wedding, and your decades long secret crush.
The fact that you’re waking up naked in his bed is equal parts distressing as it is titillating.  
“Oh!” He looks startled. “What are you doing here?”
You’ve pulled the sheets up to your chin, covering any inch of exposed skin.
“Uh, I don’t know,” you whisper as you swallow hard.  “I was hoping you would know.”
Jungkook sits and squints his eyes, as if he’s trying to directly visualize into the past.
“Did we end up drinking in here last night after we went out?” He asks as he rubs at his messy hair.
He drops his left hand to the bed, then freezes, eyes locked on his fingers.
“Oh, my god.”
You sit up, worried he’s recalled something that you don’t.
He spins his head to look at yours and notices your bare shoulders.  His eyes widen and he grabs your arm, reaching for your left hand anxiously.
Before you can open your mouth to question his movements, your eyes follow where his eyesight lands.
A gorgeous, sparkling wedding ring sits on your delicate finger, sparkling in the single strip of sunlight beaming through the windows.  
Your throat goes dry.  Jungkook lifts his own hand and presents a silver band on his ring finger and you nearly faint.
You’re married.
To Jeon Jungkook.
You got drunkenly married to your childhood crush and your brother’s best friend.
“Namjoon is going to kill me,” he groans.  He dramatically falls back onto the pillows and covers his face in shame.
You bite your lip carefully and study the ring on your hand.  It’s stunning.  It’s the size and shape you’ve always dreamed of having.  You can’t help but note the irony of it all.   Your dream ring and your dream husband.
Jungkook turns his head to look at you, stares at the soft skin of your bare back.
“Oh, my god, we fucked.”  He covers his face with his hands again, muffling his words.  You’re grateful that he can’t see your face—can’t see the way your cheeks are flaring bright red.
“I had sex with the girl I’ve been in love with for years and I don’t even remember if I did well or not,” he cries.
Your own head whips to where the boy lies prone on the bed, groaning his sorrows into his palms.
Did Jungkook just admit out loud that he’s been in love with you?  Were you hearing that right?  You nearly pinch yourself to check and make sure you’re not dreaming.  There’s no way.  Was there?
“What did you just say?” You question.
He peeks at you through his fingers covering his face, a bashful look on his face.
“Was I good? Did I make you cum? God, please don’t tell me I finished too quickly.”
You shake your head and scoot closer, desperate for confirmation of what he just said.
“Not that, you idiot. I don’t remember either.  What did you say before that?”
Jungkook’s cheeks turn pink and you hold back any cooing that’s desperate to claw out of your throat at the sight.
“I uhh,” he stumbles. “I sort of may be a little… into you.  Like, a lot.”
He hides his face again with his hands, but his grin gives him away.  He’s bashful, and you want to push him off the bed as much as you want to kiss him.
“You fucking asshole!” You laugh as you shove at his arm. “I’ve had a crush on you since I was 6!  Ever since Namjoon crushed my Barbie dream house and you helped me fix it.”
He pulls his hands off his face and slaps them down on the bed, eyes wide with surprise.
“Really?!” He asks.
“Yes, you idiot,” you sigh.  “Why else would I drunkenly agree to marry you?”
Jungkook sits up and smiles, like a puppy.  His arms wrap around you and he pulls you in for a hug. It’s tight, and innocent and you can tell he’s still beaming from ear to ear.  It makes you smile as you wrap your arms around his middle and return the enthusiasm.
He pulls back and holds you away from his body with his hands on your shoulders.  His eyes are lit and he looks like a kid on Christmas.
“We’re married!” He exclaims.
You can’t help but laugh.  “Yes, we are.  A little non-traditional but, it worked out in our favor.”
Jungkook slides his hand down to hold your left, bringing it to his lips and kissing the diamond-studded finger gently.
He lets your hands drop, and he smiles at you, silence shrouding the two of you on the king-sized bed.  He seems to be taken, deep in pleasant thoughts.  
“Wait!” He jerks back to reality. “We fucked.  But you don’t remember it, and I don’t remember it.”
You bite your lip, suddenly shy.   “Yes?”
“So we can’t even truthfully say we’ve consummated the marriage.”  He looks at you as if he expects you to follow his train of thought.
“Kook, I’m hungover.  Can you just… spill it?”
He sighs dramatically, but the grin remains.
“Lets fuck? It is our honeymoon, after all.” He winks as he crawls towards you.  
The sheet has fallen off his lower body now and your eyes widen at the sight.  He’s hard and impressively thick.  He’s shameless too, knows you’re staring and doesn’t move to hide it.  In fact, he appears to make it more on display as he hovers over you.
“I’ve dreamt of this moment,” he sighs as he approaches you, comes face to face above you.
Jungkook is no longer the silly, playful puppy dog you know and love.  His eyes are dark and blown wide, breath heavy and confident.  He oozes a raw sensuality that has you squeezing your thighs tight.  
“I’ve always wondered what you’d look like underneath me with those big, beautiful eyes of yours,” he breathes as he leans down to pepper your collar with kisses.  
“Will you let me make you feel good? Give you a honeymoon you’ll never forget?” He asks, fingers playing with the sheet but never straying further.  He’s waiting for you, waiting for your consent or denial.
“Please,” you gasp as his fingers tickle the skin of your decolletage.  “I want you.”
Your acceptance is all he needs to hear before he’s pulling down the stark white sheet from your chest and exposing your breasts.  He licks his lips as he stares at you, and your body warms under his gaze.
“Fuck, you really looked like this under your clothes?  All this time?”  He asks, his voice turning needy and whiny.  “No wonder Namjoon kept you under lock and key.”
You huff lightly.  “Can we not talk about my brother during sex?”
Jungkook chuckles and nods, before bringing a finger up to pinch and tug at a nipple.  It makes you both moan, and the bud hardens beneath his touch.
“Fuck,” he repeats.  He seems to be stuck on a constant loop of surprise.  He seems just as dazed as you—unsure if this is real but unwilling to wake up if it’s not.
His cock hardens even more—you can feel it through the cotton sheet on your thighs and you’re desperate to touch him.  As he lowers his mouth to suck your nipple into his mouth, you push the remaining bits of sheets and mused blankets off your body and reach for his cock with a groan.
Jungkook inhales sharply around your nipple as he feels your warm hand grip him.  It makes his cock twitch in your grasp and he sucks harder to compensate.  
Your back arches with the force of his suction, and your hand strokes his length languidly.  He nearly whines onto your breast, before he pops off and lifts his head—eyes closed and mouth dropped open in bliss.
“S-shit, your hand feels so fucking good,” he whispers through gritted teeth.
“Imagine how my pussy will feel,” you counter.
Jungkook drops his head onto your breast at your words.
“You’re gonna kill me with that dirty mouth.”
“That’s the plan.”   Your hands tug at his black locks until his lips meet yours, meshing them in a deep and passionate kiss.
His hand slides down between your legs, slithers to your heat where he presses two fingers inside you and groans at the wetness there.  It makes you gasp and whimper into his mouth as he fucks your relentlessly with his fingers.
“Dirty little girl,” he whispers as he bites your lip and tugs.  “Can’t believe you’re mine.  This pussy is all mine, now.”
You nod quickly and desperately as your legs fall open even more.  The wetness of your channel is squelching around his fingers and Jungkook’s groans muddle with your own in the expansive room.  His fingers scissor you open and you’re keening at the stretch.
“Gotta get this tight cunt ready for my cock,” he breathes as he sucks a spot on your neck.  You’re sure it’s gonna leave a dark mark, and you thrill at the idea.  You want the world to see you’re his—you’re finally his.
“P-Please,” you beg as you feel your body coming closer to the breaking point.
Jungkook growls as he pulls his hand from inside you and shakes his head.
“I want you to cum on my cock.”  He lines himself up and rubs the head of his cock up and down the slit.
“You okay without a condom?” He asks, waiting with the bulbous head still catching the slick of your pussy, not quite pushed in fully.  “I’m clean.”
You’re whimpering—the feeling of his thickness so close to being inside of you has your mind nearly empty.    You nod your consent.  
“I’m good too.  On the pill.”
It’s all the boy needs to finally push his length into you.  His head throws back in bliss as he feels your tight walls accept him.  You wrap your legs around his waist to encourage him deeper, pulling him in to the hilt.  
“A-ah,” he gasps. “You feel so fucking good.” His hands grip your hips as he stills himself for a moment—allows himself a minute to catch his breath and beg his body not to cum too quickly.
“So big,” you whine. “Fuck, Jungkook, baby…”
There’s nothing else to say, no ability to speak as he pulls his length out slowly and slams it back in, knocking all the air in your lungs with it.  
“You’re finally all mine,” he grits as he thrusts in and out of you again, as deep as he can.  “My fuckin’ dream girl, all mine.”
He finally opens his eyes and watches as your cunt takes each thrust, watches your tits bounce in time with his pistoning hips.  He can’t help but travel up to your face, where your mouth opens in silent rapture and you focus your eyes on him—like he’s the only man in the universe.  Jungkook has never felt more powerful, more loved.  The girl he’s only ever pined over is finally here, finally beneath him, wearing his ring.   While he doesn’t remember how it started, he’s sure as hell he will remember how it continues.
You squeak out moans with each harsh thrust, reveling in the way the tip of his cock kisses your cervix and drags against your walls.  Feeling him bare—rubbing and hitting each spot that has you gasping for air and seeing new colors, is sending you closer and closer to a screaming finish.
Your hands hold his powerful arms, grip the muscles of his biceps you’ve spent years drooling over.  You can’t comprehend that he’s yours now, all yours to touch and feel and fuck.  And love.  You finally can shower the man with all the love you’ve cultivated for him, and you plan to start now.
“L-love you, Jungkook, fuck! I love you,”  You gasp.
His rhythm stutters as he registers your words, and he feels his stomach tighten—your admission bringing him even closer to his climax.  His hands grip your hips tighter, knowing he’s sure to leave bruises there.
“G-god, baby,” he grunts as he thrusts into you harder, faster.  The sounds of your cunt are music to his ears, the slick juices squelching around his cock.  “I’ve always loved you.”
He removes a hand from your hip and rubs your clit with the pad of his thumb, eyes now firmly locked with yours.  Your legs fly up to rest on his shoulders and the new position has him hitting you even deeper.  
“Cum with me, baby,” he begs as his thumb circles your clit harder, applies more direct pressure.  “Wanna see my pretty wife cum on my cock.”
Your spine tingles as it builds and you’re gaping for breath as your orgasm slams into you like a freight train.  Your entire body is alight with licking flames and electric shock.  Your cunt pulsates wildly around his cock, gripping so tight that Jungkook lasts only a few more thrusts before he’s cumming hard inside you.
Jungkook gasps your name as his cock spills his load inside you, emptying himself completely.  Your walls are coaxing him, stroking and encouraging him to spill so deep, as if it can’t get enough of him.  
You take nearly a full few minutes before your vision returns to normal and your breathing settles down from the heavy breathing.  Your legs are still on Jungkook’s shoulders and his cock still rests deep inside you, softening gently.
“Holy shit,” you whisper with a long exhale.
Jungkook nods and lets out a chuckle.  He eases his cock out of you, sighing with pride at the way his thick cum slides out of you with it.  He can’t believe that this is him, and that is you.  That his cum is what’s decorating the inside of your walls, that he gets to be the one to do it—always.
Jungkook lies beside you and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you to kiss him sweetly.
“I know we sort of skipped the whole dating part and went right to marriage,” he says sheepishly. “But, I was hoping you’d let me take you to dinner sometime?”
You can’t help but cup his cute cheeks and kiss him again—your heart feels as if it might burst.  
He pulls you close, wraps his hands around you to pull you on top of him.  His cock is jerking with the need to go again, to be buried inside you once more.
You smile as you straddle him, lining his cock up with your soaked heat before sitting fully and allowing him to enter until he’s completely enveloped.  You gasp out his name at the feeling—oversensitive but still not yet satisfied.  You sit and marvel at how he feels inside you—you think you could let Jungkook be there forever, as if it’s where he’s meant to be.
A harsh knock pounds on the door, before the clicking noise of the lock moves and allows entrance to the intruder.  Jungkook is quick to throw the sheets of your combined bodies, you still straddled and laying on top of him.
“Kook! Have you seen my fucking sister? Where the hell--,” your brother is cut off mid-sentence as he takes in the scene in front of him.
“Uh,” Jungkook blushes. “Hey, new brother-in-law.”
Namjoon quickly averts his eyes and backs away quickly. 
“Jesus! Christ!” He complains as he moves out of the field of vision.
“You two get dressed now!” He demands from the hallway. “You have some explaining to do!”
You can’t help but giggle as Jungkook’s features turn stark white with fear.  You press a kiss to his lips for reassurance.
“It’s okay, babe,” you whisper as you pat his cheeks.
“And what the fuck do you mean by brother-in-law!?” Namjoon shrieks.  “Jeon Jungkook, I’ll fucking kill you!”
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© ppersonna - 2020 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.
4K notes · View notes
kkulmoon · 10 months ago
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY KIM NAMJOON! ↪  some of Namjoon’s Favourite Things (cr in src)
+ bonus: some of his least favourite things
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6K notes · View notes
venusiangguk · a month ago
the art of craving | jjk (m)
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>>pairing: jungkook x reader / dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc
>>genre: friends with benefits, smut, pwp, a lil bit of fluff
>>word count: 6.9k
>>warnings: the domesticity... sob sob, the cutest baby... sob sob, dom jk, sub oc, age gap, all that good dilf jk stuff: asking for permission, saying thank you, oral (m), videotaping, sexual tension, balls in face, covering of mouth (?), a lil bit of external prostate stim bc jk deserves it 😌, dirty talk, creampie,  sex in someone else’s house (? again), omg almost all members are dad’s 🥲, so many dilfs hhhh, hobi being out of pocket, questionable breakfast in bed 👍🏻
>>notes: HE’S BACK!! also i knocked this out in one day, so I'm sorry for mistakes or if it falls short, i tried to do dilf jk justice 🤧 
also also i don’t think you necessarily need to read the previous part to understand this one, but if you would like to it is here!!
>>summary: jk takes you to a bbq at his friends house. the tri-tip is good but the creampie is even better.
“Are you sure you’re okay with me coming?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
You turn to Jeongguk, who is kneeled down at toddler level. Nari’s got a strong grip in his hair as she uses it as leverage as well as a balancing aid as she steps one little foot at a time into her water proof pull up. He cut it recently, his long locks a little more clean cut and cropped. Still more than enough for little hands to yank, though. He winces, but takes it in stride.
“I don’t know you’re always a bit weird about us,” you say. No bitterness, more of just an observation.
Jeongguk looks up at you as best he can, before getting Nari’s bikini bottoms and repeating the same painful process he did with the pull up. “I’m not weird about it.” He can almost hear the incredulous look you’re giving him. “Okay, I’m not as weird about it,” he amends, “but this is just a group of my friends getting together, and we’ve all known each other for years so I don’t have to worry about what they think of me.”
You hum, walking to the bathroom to get your own bikini on. You’re adjusting the ties at the hip when you say loudly so he can hear you from his room, “You’re worried about what people think of us?”
The effort you put into trying to hold in your laugh when Jeongguk appears in the doorway with a disheveled baby on his hip is futile. Nari’s looking around like she doesn’t know how she got there so fast, shirtless with a half-on baby bikini top, the triangles falling down and resting on her round belly. She smiles big when she sees you though, kicks in her dad’s hold.
Jeongguk looks kind of disheveled as well, yet very serious as he says, “No I don’t care what people think about us, I just- am more worried what they think about me. I know it doesn’t matter,” he sighs dramatically, “but I’d rather people not think I’m a cradle robbing pervert.” He covers one of Nari’s ears with a big hand and pushes the other ear against his chest to plug it when he says pervert. She pops back up, unbothered like a little bobble head.
You walk over and stand in front of them both, taking the strings of Nari’s swimsuit and tying them at the back of her neck. You flick your eyes up to Jeongguk, as you make the bunny ears. “You’re not even 30 yet, relax Daddy.”
“And you’re not even 25,” he almost whines, and doesn't bother scolding you for the use of the d word. This time.
“And this one’s not even 2!” you say, over excited as you turn wide eyes to the baby in front of you, swiftly changing the subject.
Nari squeals at your excitement, leans forward in her dad’s hold till she’s got tiny, pudgy little arms around your neck. Jeongguk hands her to you with ease, tries to keep the sick adoration off of his face while doing so.
“Duuu!” she cries, holding up her hand. She’s got her middle finger and ring finger up, an awkward way to show ‘two’ but you let her have it, jiggling her a little laughing a praise.
“Oh, such a smart little flower!” Jeongguk coos, hand coming up to give her a high-five.
However, she just grips his thumb in her small hand, giggling in the infectious way that babies do, her little crescent eyes lighting up with love and glee and Jeongguk almost cries. He hopes she never stops looking at him like that or holding his hand like that.
The alarm on his phone knocks him out of his sentimental reverie as he begrudgingly frees himself from Nari’s hold. He calls into the bathroom, “We’re going to be late.”
You’re not bothered, instead just sitting Nari on the bathroom counter and doing her hair up in small piggy-tail buns atop her head. She plays with your belly ring while you do so, fascinated by the new cherry charm you have on it now.
“Did you hear me?” Jeongguk asks in the doorway.
“Yup, look at her,” you say, gesturing to the oblivious baby.
Jeongguk does, taps one of the buns. “How do you get them so symmetrical? I can never get it right.”
You hum, sitting her in the curve of your waist. You give her your manicured hand, nails decorated in crystals, to distract her. “I’ll teach you. Want me to get her baby bag ready while you load the car with her sleeper just in case she needs to nap while we are there?”
Jeongguk shoots finger guns at you, before pressing a quick kiss to your temple. You purr. “Good brain, I didn’t think of that.”
You walk out with him, set Nari down and let her toddle about. She hands you an array of things, helping you pack her bag while Jeongguk goes to his large walk-in closet grabbing the portable crib.
“Don’t forget her sock monitor,” he grunts, finally getting a good hold of it.
“Already packed,” you tell him, “Do you want me to pack her undies for after swimming?”
Nari’s speech may be a little delayed according to the doctors but her brain is big and functioning and everything else in her baby body is right on par, or even ahead of kids her age. They suggested early potty-training, and focusing on the positives as Jeongguk navigates the hurdles.
He looks contemplative before he shakes his head. “No, too much hassle, just pull-ups is fine.”
You throw him a look, but he’s already got his back to you walking out the room. “You know she’s never going to learn if you don’t stay consistent and keep a routine!”
“Yes, baby, I know!” he calls over his shoulder, “Fresh start when we get back!”
You roll your eyes. “Daddy’s so silly, huh?”
Nari babbles an affirmative, and with that, you shoulder the baby bag and carry the baby right out the door. Easy peasy.
“Hello my good bitches!”
“Hoseok!” Jeongguk whisper-scolds, a protective hand coming up to Nari’s face. For some reason he covers her eyes instead of her ears. Nari blows a blind raspberry, but is more or less content in your arms.
You’ve never met Hoseok before, but you know you like him when you watch his eyes rake over Jeongguk, a judgemental look on his face as he takes a sip from the red solo cup in his hand, eyes narrowed over the rim.
“What are you wearing?”
Jeongguk narrows his eyes back. Although his friend probably can’t see them behind the huge gold-rimmed, purple hued glasses Jeongguk is wearing. “It’s Fendi. Please move, this is heavy.”
It’s no secret that Jeongguk has a fat wallet to match his fat dilf ass, and that he likes the occasional name brand item in his closet. But he’s not frivolous, and it’s only once in a blue moon that he actually splurges on something as expensive as the bright yellow and white shirt he’s wearing currently.
If anything a good portion of his income goes to what he wine-drunkenly calls the ‘Flower Fund’. Essentially dollars put away for when Nari goes to university, or whatever she decides. Maybe she’ll start her own business like her dad. Your mouth may have dropped when he let the current balance slip. She’s not even 2 yet.
Anywho. The shirt that is the hot topic-  it’s a bit out there, different from what he usually wears, but somehow he pulls it off, the white of the trademark F’s all over compliment the white, 5in inseam swim shorts he has on. You giggled in the car when he paired the sunglasses with it, but the more you look at him, the more you grow to like the statement piece.
His sleeve is on full display, and his arm is flexed as he carries the baby sleeper, finding a wall to lean it against. You’re still staring when Hoseok starts speaking.
“So you’re the hot Nanny he goes on and on about?”
“Nanny?” you ask, raising a brow.
“Hobi? Oh my god?” He shakes his head and his hands open and jerk in a very what the fuck manner. “I do not call you the nanny,” he stresses, eyes going to you.
You keep your brow quirked.
Hoseok laughs, nudges you with his hands open, nodding towards Nari. The baby looks like it's a very tough decision, choosing between you and Hoseok, but after an encouraging nod from you she smiles. Her baby teeth are on display, and her hands are grabby.
Jeongguk’s friend hips her, “He doesn’t actually call you the nanny, but he does talk about you a lot. All good things of course.”
You smile, your heart fluttering a little in your chest but before you can say anything Jeongguk is by your side, telling Hoseok a very adamant and stern, ‘Goodbye.’
Hoseok just laughs. “Okay, okay,” he says, raising his hands in surrender. The one holding the red cup catches Nari’s attention.
She pokes it with a tiny finger before smacking her lips a little. “Joofs?”
“Joofs?” Hoseok repeats, confused for a moment before he gets it. “Juice- yeah no. Not this. Let’s get you your own joofs.”
As he’s walking towards what you assume is the kitchen you call out, “Do you need one of her cups?”
He waves a dismissive hand. “Joon keeps some in the kitchen, go outside and meet everyone! We’ve all been dying to put a face to the mysterious __!” He turns to Nari making casual conversation till his voice fades with distance, “Still nice and plump I see…”
Something warms inside you. The fact that Jeongguk’s friends are all so close, that they keep little things for each other's children at each other’s houses, is so sweet and wholesome and so tender in a way that makes your heart want to burst.
Nari’s playroom has a few leapfrog’s with grade school games on a shelf and you had always wondered why. When you asked, Jeongguk told you that he sometimes watched Taehyung’s boys when he and his wife had date night. He has all the Tinkerbell movies on bluray for Jin’s daughter, and the Harry Potter ones for Yoongi and Jimin’s. As far as you know, Namjoon doesn’t have kids of his own yet, so it’s extra touching that he keeps baby essentials for Nari around.
You lean against Jeongguk, bumping shoulders with him. “Hoseok is nice, I like him.”
He rolls his eyes. “He’s the bachelor of the group. No relationship or kids. Hence the potty-mouth and the alcoholic joofs at 1 in the afternoon.”
You smile a closed lipped laugh, eyes glinting as you look up at him. He smiles back, unable to stop himself. He gives you an inquisitive look, the arm around your waist pulling you a little closer. The hand on your hip squeezing in question.
“Hmm?” he ponders, softly.
“You talk about me?” you ask, just as soft.
He hums, eyes dropping to your lips. “Just a little. Only to them.”
You and Jeongguk aren’t official. The circumstances a bit peculiar, the steps a little harder to maneuver. But what you have is good. A nice mix between fun and serious, committed yet free. You both know what you need to, feel what’s between you, even if you don’t name it or talk about it.
On your tiptoes, you crane your neck to reach his lips, and his eyes slip shut, ready to meet you halfway.
“Ah- Jeongguk you’re on grill duty!”
Jeongguk slumps behind you, a little groan sounding. “Okay!”
He sneaks a sweet kiss, before pinching your butt quickly. “Let me introduce you to the hyungs.”
Jeongguk looks almost as edible as the tri-tip he’s grilling. He’s got tongs in his tattooed hand, his hair held back by those purpley sunglasses that he’s pushed to the top of his head. His shirt is open, his toned tummy out and flexing whenever he laughs at something Taehyung says.
His eyes constantly look for you and Nari in the pool. He has an air kiss war with Nari for a while before she gets distracted by one of the other kids, asking if they can drag her around the pool by her floaty.
You’re pretty sure it’s Jin’s daughter, around 8 or 9. Smiling you nod, telling her you’ll help her. You keep a stable hand on Nari’s circular underarm floaty as she giggles and splashes, tickled pink at being doted on. She’s the baby of the barbeque, so she’s been handed around and loved on so much, giving the whole crew a dose of baby fever.
“You know, we got special toys and a playmat for her. She’s never liked the water.”
At the sound of a woman’s voice you look over your shoulder to see Jin’s wife sitting on the edge of the pool, her feet dipped in the water. She’s beautiful, high cheekbones and kind eyes. She’s smiling, and it has a hint of knowing to it. She nods to the lawn next to the pool, and you see said playmat has been commandeered by the girls.
This gets her daughter’s attention and she jumps up and down excitedly in the shallow end of the pool where you’ve ended up.
“I’m going to go play with them for a little bit, okay Nana? I’ll come back and swim with you soon!” she gives Nari a quick kiss before speed walking to the grass after a stern warning from her mother not to run by the pool.
Nari watches, her eyes wide and curious, and you give her another kiss (she’s been absolutely smothered today). “You’ll be able to play with them soon, don’t worry little bug.”
She wiggles a little, curls in on herself like your kisses tickle before she’s giving you a wet kiss back, her chlorine hands grabbing at your cheeks. You laugh with her, finally turning back to Jin’s wife.
“I don’t know, maybe she just needed another push.”
She hums, getting fully in the water with you. She makes a ‘come hither’ motion with a wave of her hand, gesturing for you to push Nari across the water to her. The distance isn’t far so you do. You and her take turns pushing the baby back and forth and Nari loves it, soft giggles spilling from her lips as she lets her hands drag in the water.
“Jeongguk says you’re really good with her. That she really loves you.”
You feel yourself flush. “That’s sweet of him, but he’s the one that’s made her so good with people.”
She shakes her head, laughing. “Uh, she’s good with us. Kind of a nightmare for people she doesn’t like. She’s almost as picky as he is about who gets to be around her.”
Laughing with her, you speak playfully to the baby. “You? A nightmare? No way!”
Jin’s wife notices the blush, the way you brush off the comments and direct attention to other things, so as she passes Nari to you again, she says, “I get it, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just wanted you to know that I think he trusts you and cares about you a lot. Not that he tells me of course,” she chuckles, “That’s boy talk, but Jin’s got a big mouth.”
“No,” you assure her, “I appreciate it, thank you for telling me.”
Mindless chatter ensues, baby babbles sprinkled in, Nari giving her two cents, as everyone waits for the food. Your name is yelled across the backyard, and the familiar voice is welcomed, as you make sure Nari is in good hands before swimming to meet Jeongguk at the edge of the pool. He’s got a piece of meat on a fork.
“Taste?” he asks, squatting in front of you.
You open your mouth, and he’s about to plop it in before he brings it back at the last minute, blowing on it a little. You laugh, endeared. Probably a habit due to always making sure anything he lets Nari taste isn’t too hot. He presses it to his lips quickly to test the temperature, before the fork is at your lips again, his other hand underneath making sure it doesn’t fall.
You groan, tastebuds doing a happy dance on your tongue as you chew.
“So good,” you moan, mouth still full, “I love the sauce.”
“The aioli,” he says, playfully snobby.
You roll your eyes, swallowing finally. “Whatever. I love it.”
He’s got a sweet smile on his face as his eyes search yours. They linger on your lips, and you think he may kiss you, but instead he wipes his thumb on your bottom lip. You can see a little bit of the aioli on it when he brings it to his mouth, eye contact deliberate as he sucks it off. It’s a bit naughty for him. Always careful about ‘pda’. But his doe-eyes are twinkling and he’s trying not to laugh as he says, “I love it, too.”
Sure that he can feel the spike in the air, you narrow your eyes at him as you whisper, “You’re mean.”
He shrugs, pats your head. “Food’s ready, get baby. I’ll save you guys a seat.”
Everyone around the outside table groans. Hands are on bellies and arms are behind heads and buttons are undone after devouring the food. The kids table off to the side is conspiring on how to get dessert, and little Nari is just about knocked out in your lap, the bread of her cheek smushed against your chest as she nods off.
“Jk, the iron chef,” Jimin sighs, swirling his wine in his glass.
“For real, man…”
Compliments to the chef are spouted from everyone and Jeongguk humbly accepts. The conversation dwindles into something that is lulled and lazy, casual stories about the kids being traded. How Taehyung found his twin boys’ pee drawer. You cringe. How Yoongi and Jimin’s daughter said her first curse word at kindergarten and blamed it on her dad (the one with the potty-mouth… read: Yoongi). You laugh, carefully not to wake Nari.
One of the wives notices.
She coos, “Oh, looks like someone is tuckered out.”
Jeongguk glances at his daughter, brings a finger to her pushed out bottom lip and pulls it down a little, tiny bloop noises sounding when it snaps back into place. He’s evil.
Of course she groggily wakes up, grumpy and rotten as she screeches and groans, rubbing her face into your sternum. Her chubby foot kicks at her dad. He laughs a coo at her, and she just grunts, indignant and sleepy.
“Quit it,” you say, trying not to laugh at the scene.
He hums, shoulders shaking in amusement. “Let’s set up her sleeper,” he says to you before turning to Namjoon. “Can we set it up in the guest room?”
He nods. “You’ll be able to hear her if she wakes up?”
“Of course, we brought her sock monitor.”
“Sock monitor,” Jin scoffs humorously, “Wish they had those when Jiwoo was a baby…”
The voices taper off as you follow Jeongguk back into the house and after a pitstop in the foyer for the crib and baby bag you find yourself in a pretty decently sized bedroom. It’s furnished, but there’s enough space in the far corner for the sleeper.
You sit on the bed, sway back and forth with Nari still snoozing in your arms. You rest your cheek on her head, watching as Jeongguk quickly sets up her nap station. He looks strong, arms working as he snaps each piece into place. His thighs bulge a little, his swim shorts bunching and pulled taut over the muscle as he grabs her blanket and pig stuffie from the baby bag.
“She still sleeping?” he asks, once he’s finished.
You hum an affirmative, getting to your feet and walking over to him. He takes her, and gently lowers her in, staying near until he’s sure that the move didn’t wake her. She whimpers a little in her sleep and you quietly rustle through her bag until you find her paci. Nari quiets immediately, soft baby snores that sound more like tiny little sighs fill the room.
Jeongguk brushes her flyaways off her face, tucks the wispies behind her ear being careful not to snag on her tiny earring. He then turns to you and throws himself into your arms, slumping.
You groan under his weight, but embrace him nonetheless.
“She’s getting so big,” he whines.
“Turns 2 in like 2 months right?”
He nods, face in your neck.
“You gonna do anything for it?”
Sighing, he rights himself. He bends and gets the monitor sock, un-velcroing it as quietly as he can, and then does it up around Nari’s tiny foot as carefully as possible. She’s a pretty good sleeper, never really too fussy, but you can never be too careful. He then grabs his phone from the same bag, checking the connection on the app.
“Her mom was talking about maybe getting together for it,” he says, pocketing his cell and grabbing your hand. “We can do something though. If you want, you’re not obligated of course.”
Your smile is small, but you nod. “Of course I want to.”
His ex is something you both never really touch on. One of the only tense subjects between you two, the conversation always a little formal and stilted, but you get it. And it’s not your place to question him, or how he co-parents. Not your place to question what she would think if she knew about you, because you’re sure she doesn’t. Or else you probably would have been invited to the actual birthday party.
It’s cool. You get it.
You’re wandering aimlessly around the house, hand in hand, taking the well needed break away from the commotion outside. The company is great, just a lot, and you’ve wanted to get Jeongguk alone the whole afternoon. Now’s your chance and after the birthday talk, you could use a distraction.
He’s lazily showing around the downstairs bathroom when you take your chances.
“That’s the waterfall shower, the toilet- it has a bidet, how cool is that? That’s the tub, and- that’s the lock? What are you doing?” He whispers like he’s playfully scandalized by the way you lock the both of you inside.
You shrug innocently, as you step in front of him. Trailing your index finger between the slight dip between his pecs, down to the line between his abs, all the way to the light trail of hair that disappears into his shorts.
“Dunno… What am I doing?”
He hums like he’s thinking about it. “I think you’re being a bit suggestive…” he says quietly as he toys with the tie at your hip.
“Mmm,” you hum contemplative and teasing. You take a short step, closing the small distance between you and him. You wrap your arms around his neck, scratch at the short hairs at the nape of his neck. “What am I suggesting?”
Jeongguk’s so easy. He bends some, brushing his nose against your cheek, the hands at your hips already eagerly gripping and pulling you closer. Flush against him. His voice is soft, has a slight shake to it when he says back, “Not sure… tell me?”
You sigh, pleased, when he presses gentle, wet kisses to your neck. You whine a bit when he nips, his teeth sharp and quick. Eloquently you say, “Let’s have a quickie.”
Jeongguk snorts, a harsh laugh huffing into your skin. “Smooth.”
He’s teasing but his swimsuit doesn’t do much to hide how hard he’s getting, despite not even being touched yet. You change that, hand going down to cup him through the material.
“You wanna?” you purr, squeezing him.
He nods, finally kisses you. Slow and gentle. “Yeah,” he breathes against your mouth.
You kiss him with intention, then.
Tongues curl around each other and teeth click. Hands roam, bodies on fire despite the little clothing on your frames, the dip in the pool you had not too long ago. Jeongguk seems eager, kinda desperate as he breathes harshly against your lips, hands on your ass grabbing and kneading your cheeks in his big palms, pulling them apart a little as he presses his cock into your lower belly.
You moan when you feel how hard he is, when you feel how badly he wants you. Right here in one of his best friends' bathrooms. It makes you feel a little high, kind of dreamy as he backs himself to the counter, hooks one of your legs on his hip, forcing you to rest most of your weight on him, bracing yourself against his body.
With your legs now open, Jeongguk takes advantage of the way your pussy is right over his cock, rutting up into you, his hips moving hard and slow as he drags his length against you. You gasp, resting your head on his shoulder, eyes falling shut. Your acrylics grip at his shirt for a moment, basking in the way your clit is being teased. Pleasure making your whole body tingle.
“You’re so hard,” you whimper.
He makes a needy noise, sounding a little embarrassed as he urges you to look at him with a hand on your face. He watches you, as your brows turn up every time you feel the tip of his cock. Your mouth falls open, a silent moan, and he knows you’re trying so hard to be quiet. It makes him throb, jerk against your cunt.
“You’re being so good,” he praises.
Your eyes flutter a little, rolling back some as you nod.
He kisses you again, rougher this time. Your mouths stay attached as you finally free him from the stiff material of his trunks, pushing and pulling his foreskin over his tip. He has to break the kiss so he can moan, so he can look down at your tiny hand wrapped around him, fingers not even able to wrap all the way around.
“__,” he sighs.
You’re mouthing at his neck while you pump, a questioning noise being hummed into the column of his throat.
“You know how… how I’m gonna be gone for... like a week? For that business trip?” His sentence is broken up by lewd groans.
You tell him you know, distracted by the nasty clicking noises that color the air on every upstroke.
He stays quiet for a moment, tensed in your hands. Then he speaks in that unsure voice that he takes when he asks about something he’s not sure your response will be.
“You can say no… but I just- want you, even when I’m by myself… when I can’t actually have you...”
Gently, he pushes your leg off his hip, and reaches into his pocket.
That’s when you get it.
He pulls his phone out, looks at you a little nervously. His cheeks rosy and flushed. You’re pretty sure your pussy floods your bikini bottoms. Jeongguk wants you so fucking badly that he wants to record you, because he can’t go without you- not even for a single week. He could watch porn, jerk off to the thought of you, could even get someone else because you wouldn’t ever find out. But no.
He just wants you.
“Yes,” you say quickly.
Jeongguk beams, both his hands coming to cup your face- phone and all -as he kisses you. Quick, sweet kisses until he rests his forehead on yours, his breaths hot on your face as he lets himself fuck into your palm for just a moment.
“Will you suck me, baby?” he whispers.
And fuck his voice has that tremble to it, like he’s so turned on he can barely contain it. You nod in his hands.
“Gag on it a little? Hmm?”
“Yeah, whatever you want, Jeongguk.”
And that’s how you find yourself on your knees of a bathroom floor, Jeongguk’s fat cock in your mouth, his phone recording every tear that leaks from the corner of your eyes, every gag that reverberates when his leaking tip nudges the back of your throat, every gasp you take when you pull off. The spit slick sounds that echo as you jerk him off while you catch your breath.
His phone catches the choked moans that he can’t keep in, your mouth too wet, too hot around his cock. It catches all the dirty, salacious requests he asks you.
“Lick my balls,” he whispers.
And you do. With one of your hands you jerk his cock, as you look up at him. Part of your face is covered by his cock as you lap at his balls, relishing in the way he spreads his legs a little wider, wanting to feel as good as possible.
“That spot behind my balls- yeah, fuck-”
You bring your free hand up and press two fingers into his taint, massaging lightly stimulating his prostate from the outside, while still stroking and licking him. His cock pulses in your hold and you feel when a little drop of precum dribbles to your hand that’s working over his length. You moan and rub your thighs together.
He doesn’t ask for this often but you love it when he does. You love the way he gets so breathy, so airy with his noises. How his chest stutters with short inhales until he finally releases and exhales with long groans, sometimes light whines.
Right now, his head falls back as he exhales one of those deep groans, before he looks down at you again, adjusts the camera a little, eyes so dark and heavy just dripping with lust and arousal as you make him feel so, so good.
“Don’t make me cum, wanna fuck you,” he murmurs.
It’s almost like a warning, telling you to stop because he knows he won’t be able to do it himself, the buzz thrumming through his body too blissful for him to willingly cut it off, put it to an end.
You listen to him, one last long lick from his balls to his tip, before you’re standing, hopping onto the counter. Spreading your legs, you invite Jeongguk between them.
He’s still filming, angles his phone down as he presses the thumb of his free hand in between your pussy lips over your bottoms. He kisses you while he touches you, swallowing the little whimpers you make, makes sure the shot is right when you start to rock your pussy into his touch.
Trailing his fingers from your hidden slit to the knot keeping your bikini on, he gives you a quick glance, before pulling it. He hooks a single finger under the fabric, and drags it down until your perfect, little cunt is bare.
Bending down some, Jeongguk brings his phone closer to your pussy. It’s hairless, and smooth. Pussy lips puffy. When he spreads you open, your wet center gleaming on camera, you whine, closing your legs slightly.
You’ve gotten over your shyness with him, but having a pussy close up is foreign enough for you to get bashful. But he just shushes you, coaxes your legs open again.
“Have the prettiest pussy,” he tells you, as his index finger barely pushes inside. “Can’t wait to get my cock in here…”
Something seems to click at Jeongguk’s words. He stops the video and looks up at you with his expression pained.
“What?” you ask, kinda of out of it, drunk on arousal.
All he says is, “Condom.”
Your face falls. “Are there any in the bag?”
He shakes his head. “ You packed it, and I didn’t add any. Didn’t think we would need them.”
Normally you wouldn’t push him, would settle for sucking his cock, drinking his cum. Would be good with him eating you out, cumming all over his tongue. But your pussy aches, you're not sure anything but his thick cock filling you up will suffice this time.
“Well, we don’t need them…” you whisper.
“__…” He gives you a stern look. You feel his cock kick, though, where it rests against your thigh.
“Please,” you beg, hand going to his cock stroking it over your tummy. “I have the IUD, it’s like 99% effective I’m pretty sure-”
“Pretty sure isn’t convincing-”
“I’m really sure,” you say, “I need it.”
He looks like he’s fighting with himself. Weighing the pros and cons of fucking you raw for the first time. Feeling your tight cunt sucking him in every time he pulls out, no barrier between you.
He grips the base of his cock and you sigh relieved as he wordlessly slips his tip between your folds.
You hold his gaze as he starts to push in. His mouth falls open when your pussy swallows his tip, and when he reaches the hilt, you let out the softest cry, both of you gasping into each other's mouth at the first swift thrust he rocks into you.
“Thank you,” you breathe.
Jeongguk sucks in a sharp breath. Holds his hips still as his eyes squeeze shut for the briefest of moments before his hips start to move again. You’re overwhelming, he’s never been with someone who he’s had such strong chemistry with, someone who knows exactly how to please him, someone who he knows exactly how to please.
It’s only a few thrusts into you later that Jeongguk is groaning, pushing one of your legs back so he can see your slick on his cock every time he pulls out. “Fuck, this was a bad idea…”
You shake your head, eyes closed. “No I love it like this, can feel you so much better.”
He moans, presses his cock in as far as he can, hips right up against you. “Yeah, that’s why,” he sighs, “never gonna wanna use a condom again.”
The smile that plays on your lips is wicked. “Then don’t.”
Jeongguk laughs breathlessly, fucks you a little faster as he brings a hand up to your face. He loves looking at you while he’s inside you, watching as your features shift whenever he hits that spot. “Be good,” he tells you.
You listen to him, not because you want to, but because you can’t think coherently with his cock inside you. It’s slow, the noises in the bathroom echoed and loud, slapping skin not an option today, but god. He moves his hips into you perfectly, the head of his cock rubbing on your g-spot everytime he pushes inside of you, the drag of his swollen tip against your walls is  dizzying.
He knows how to fuck you so well, having come to know your body almost as well as you do with how many times you’ve sat on his cock, how many times he’s plowed into you, how many times he’s coaxed leg shaking orgasms from your body with nothing but his cock. He knows that you like it when he gets a hold of your tits, when he flicks your nipples with the pads of his thumbs, so he finally moves your bikini top out of the way, does exactly that and he smiles when you arch into his touch.
The scolding he gives you when you accidentally knock the soap bottle over is playful. “Careful,” he whispers.
“Sorry,” you pant. When he tells you to keep it down normally, you usually have a little bit of leeway. But you don’t have that here. You know that you are a guest in the home and that this is your first time meeting everyone. You know that tainting the barbeque with sex noises is probably a bad first impression. That’s hard to remember, however, when Jeongguk fucks like he does.
He coos, his hips speeding up some. “No, don’t be sorry. So perfect. So good,” he sighs, “best I’ve ever had.”
“Just a little faster,” you plead.
The first time he fucked you, he told you he would give you whatever you wanted, and he’s never not done that. So he picks up his pace, one hand squeezing at your tits, the other at the meat of your inner thigh, and he feels how you tighten around his cock, pussy pulsing.
“Like that,” you sob.
“You have to be quiet, baby,” he pants, sweat dripping down his temple.
Like he spoke it into existence, footsteps sound outside the door. He doesn’t know how long it’s been since you both put Nari down, but it sounds like everyone is coming in from outside. Distant chatter echoes through the thin walls, the thin wood of the bathroom door. Whoever was outside seems to have just been passing by, but it lights the fire.
“Gonna make you cum,” Jeongguk tells you.
You try to respond, but the fast pace of hips knocks the breath out of you, knocks the words right out of your mouth. Your hands scramble on the counter, trying to support yourself, but its hard when he just feels so fucking good inside of you.
The slaps that start to sound are thankfully muted by the material of your swimsuit still halfway tied on, because Jeongguk doesn’t slow down, doesn’t falter a bit as he jackhammers his cock into your tiny cunt, deeming time a more pressing limitation than volume.
The frantic pace of his thrusts is an almost constant pressure on that magic, euphoric spot in your pussy. The pressure bleeds to pleasure and your arms and legs begin to shake, as your eyes are water from the effort to keep your moans silent, but you don’t know how much more you can take, if you’ll be able to keep quiet as he makes you cum on his cock.
“Can I cum?” you whisper, words fast and jumbled.
Jeongguk nods, swears as he keeps plowing his cock into you over and over again.
“Cover my mouth, cover my mouth,” you tell him, lewd urgency lacing your tone. “Oh my god, I’m gonna cum-”
The way that you look and sound when you’re about to finish with his hand over your mouth is wet dream material. Your brows are pinched, almost worried looking as you nod, letting him know that you’re there. The moans that you can’t keep in are muffled and desperate sounding under his palm, and jesus fucking christ Jeongguk can’t keep looking at you when you look like that or he’ll cum before you even get the chance to.
He leans forward, presses his face into your cheek. “C’mon, cum for me baby,” he encourages. Demanding yet so sweet as he takes what he wants from you.
You shake in his hold when you do as he says. Muffled moans turn to muffled cries as he fucks you through it, as he keeps his fat cock thrusting in and out of your convulsing cunt.
“That’s it. That’s my good girl-” Jeongguk, whispers before he buries his face into your neck.
After cumming your pussy always gets so warm, so swollen and tight and wet on the inside. And he knows he should pull out, shouldn’t risk cumming inside of you, but he feels like he physically can’t pull out. Like it would be a crime to not paint your insides white, just this once. The instinctual urge to bury his cock inside of you wins out as he loses control of his hips.
“Gonna cum inside,” he warns you.
The way you shiver in his hold at his words, just spurs him on more knowing that you crave it as much as he does. When he moves his hand from your mouth you immediately say a soft, delirious, “Please.”
He’s always had a thing for begging but that single word has never sounded as good as it does when you say with his cock buried inside of you. You sound drunk on him, on the way he fucks you and touches you and takes care of you. It only takes a few more frenzied pumps of his cock until he’s spilling inside of you, barely audible, gasped moans filling your ears.
The afterglow is short lived. The blaring knock on the door makes sure of that.
“You guys are sick, there are children in the house.”
It’s Hoseok. Because of course it is.
Jeongguk just groans, and when there are retreating footsteps outside the door, you finally let yourself laugh.
“Do you think anyone else heard?”
“God I hope not, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“They didn’t hear the end of it either…” you tease.
Jeongguk puffs out a lazy laugh, his softening cock slipping out as he backs up. He looks down at your swollen pussy, sees the little drops of leaking cum. He takes his index finger and gathers it before pushing it back in.
“Bold,” you say, with a quirked brow.
He rolls his eyes. “Are you staying for dinner after we head back?”
His subject change makes you chuckle incredulously, but still you nod. “Sure, I don’t have work tomorrow.”
“Oh, so you’re staying the night?” he asks cheekily.
It’s your turn to roll your eyes, as if you weren’t hoping he would ask.
When you wake up in his bed, Jeongguk isn’t on the right side like he usually is. Instead, there’s a note letting you know that he’s in Nari’s room with her because she was fussy, along with a plan b and some flowers.
helloooo!! long time no see im so sorry for the lack of content im having horrible writers block 😁 but anyway~~ dilf jk!! hopefully the wait for part two was worth it, and that you liked it <3 if you did, pls pls reblog, like, comment, share, send an ask >.< feedback is so appreciated and i love talking to u guys <33 smooches cuties 😚
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bratkook · 8 months ago
come over. (m) jjk
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pairing. jungkook x reader genre. smut, pwp,  warnings. jungkook is a self proclaimed pervert, smut in forms of: mutual masturbation, voyeurism through bedroom windows, rough sex, oral (m receiving), jungkook is a lil mean but just a little, dirty talk, use of vibrator, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, overstimulation, unprotected sex word count. 7.2k summary. the guilt of being a dirty peeping tom eats Jungkook alive, not knowing this was all part of your elaborate plan to sleep with the new neighborhood eye candy. author’s note. #84 requested by @taestybae​ from this promp list! ty for sending this is bby 🖤 (requests now closed)
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Jungkook knows it's wrong, god does he know it's wrong. Acting as if he didn’t mean to leave his blinds cracked open, tilted at just the right angle that allows him to still be able to see out, the view he’s granted being your own window a few feet away. 
It’s funny now, how when he had first purchased the town house he had hated how close his neighbors were to him, and now here he was, an absolute pervert who was thankful for the narrow distance between your buildings.
The self proclaimed pervert simply sits at his desk, mindlessly going through work emails while his eyes continue to drift up, staring through his blinds for any sign of movement. 
Jungkook’s chest feels tight as he waits, eyeing the ticking clock in the corner of his screen and seeing it was nearing nine at night. Maybe you had plans tonight, going out with your friends, mind too preoccupied to indulge the filthy fantasies Jungkook had swirling in his head. It had become his favorite daily activity, sneaking a peek at you, sometimes doing simple things like relaxing with a face mask, or having a dance party. 
Of course those moments were all adorable but his favorite moments were the ones where you would walk around topless or lather lotion on your body after a shower. Sometimes you’d take the teasing a step further, blinds fully opened with only the sheer curtain coming in between him and your shadowed silhouette, caught in the act of what he could only assume was you touching yourself. 
Jungkook used to think it was purely accidental, just a careless neighbor who had no idea his bedroom had the perfect view, but he swore you had made eye contact with him far too many times for this to not be intentional.
Before his mind can spiral further, there’s suddenly a flicker of light and like a magnet, Jungkook’s eyes lock in to their target, seeing you walking into your room with a small towel draped over your shoulder, sports bra and tiny workout shorts showing him how your body was glistening in sweat. 
Pushing off his desk, his chair rolls and squeaks along his floor so he could get a better view, completely invested in seeing the way you get comfortable after your trip to the gym. Call it creepy or call it attentive but Jungkook had grown to know your schedule, you were his neighbor who enjoyed giving him peep shows so it was sort of hard for him not to realize the usual routine you had. However, this was the first time he had seen you come back from the gym this late. 
Jungkook groans now at his realization, palm coming to rub down his face as he hears his own thoughts, behaving like a man who had a notebook where he jotted down your schedule. 
He didn’t, but still, he felt like a creep. A dirty fucking creep. 
With his eyes screwed shut he shuffles the chair back to its rightful spot like a child in time out, angling his body to prevent his wandering eyes from looking through his window once more, the shame once again eating away at him like it did every time. 
Did you really do this on purpose? 
Of course you did, you weren’t stupid. 
The second Jungkook moved into your neighborhood he became the talk of the street, suburban house moms, young teenage girls, even your elderly neighbor had begun to wonder who the cute boy who went jogging down the street was. He oozed sex appeal, not even realizing how swooned he had everyone with his morning workout, he just thought everyone waved and smiled at him out of pure friendliness. 
Although he had no idea how hot he looked, you were blessed with the gift of vision and common sense. It only took you one glance of him exiting his house, long hair partially tied back, running shorts hugging his thighs so beautifully and you were sold. 
The minute you realized he was your next door neighbor it was like a lightbulb went off above your head, it was a blessing in disguise and you were not about to pass up the opportunity to have this go in your favor. Giving him a front row seat to you and everything you had to offer was the cards you chose to play and so far it had been going well. 
That is until you exit the shower, excitement coursing through you, already wondering how you’re going to tease him tonight. With your towel loosely hanging around your chest, you’re ready for the small show, but as you get into your usual position you notice that his blinds are now tightly closed, no gap between the shutters to allow him a peak of you. 
It’s a sudden and very unexpected chain of events. With a small huff of disappointment you perch yourself onto the end of your bed, directly facing your window as you sit in thought, your saucy plans for the night being ruined. 
Wondering just what could have made Jungkook flip a switch like that kept you up at night so when you see him coming in from his run the following morning as you leave for work you don’t think twice about speaking up. 
Your neighbor flinches when you greet him in good morning, not expecting to hear your voice so close to him but he could thank your connected driveways for that. 
“Oh, good morning.” he smiles politely, pulling out his airpod and pausing his music entirely to give you his full attention. The small nerves of being called out bubble up inside of him, only having talked to you once prior he wasn’t really sure where this conversation would go, were you about to call him a disgusting pervert?
“Did you call it a night really early last night?” You bite instantly, soft smile not giving away your true intentions but he knows, the way his eyes widen slightly make it obvious. 
“Yeah,” he sputters out, wiping his sweaty palms on his black shorts, nerves already making his heart skip. You knew, there was absolutely no way you didn’t and this solidified it. He had assumed you did, his guilty conscience making him believe what you did was intentional in order for him not to feel like the peeping Tom he very clearly was, but hearing you sneakily admit to knowing he hadn’t watched you last night made him feel like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over him. 
“Haven’t been getting much sleep lately so..”
You simply nod along as he trails off in a lie, lips spreading out into a smirk as your eyes very obviously give him a once over, focusing on the deep cuts of his sleeves that expose his sides and art filled arm, how the shorts he wears hit above his knee and leave his glorious thighs out for you to see. He was truly blind to his good looks. 
“Sorry I haven’t really given you a proper neighborly welcome, can I have your number?” Already fishing your phone out of your pocket because you knew he wouldn’t say no, still you tack on a helpful lie to make your flirting a little more subtle. “The neighbors have a group chat, I’ll add you to it so you can get all the hot gossip.”
If he knows you're lying he doesn’t show it, instead he looks a tiny bit disappointed that you wanted his number to add him to a neighborhood group chat. Regardless he recites his number with a smile, his phone instantly vibrating in his palm with a text from you, a friendly ‘hi neighbor’ with a waving emoji at the end. 
As he starts to save your contact you open up your car door, grabbing his attention once more. “I’ll text you if I ever need sugar...or other neighborly things.”
The suggestive teasing in your tone isn’t lost on him now, his cheeks flushing at the implications behind your words. “Yeah, whatever you need.” 
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He’s admittedly even more disappointed when your message thread runs dry, not even being added to the gossip group chat that he was sort of curious about. You hadn’t even given him a show since the night he shut his blinds but it was all part of your plan, expertly crafted to go in your favor. 
While you’re at work you get the email that sets everything in motion, a notification of your package being out for delivery. A very cute baby pink wand would be placed at your door step in discreet packaging and if things went the way you anticipated it would be making its proper debut tonight, hopefully with an audience of one. 
Jungkook is pulled away from his computer screen when his phone vibrates against his desk, your name illuminated on his homescreen. He pauses for a moment, wondering if this was simply a text initiating him into that damn group chat that he had no idea didn’t actually exist, but when he unlocks it and opens up the thread he sees it's just you. 
Y/N 3:48pm : hi jungkook, sorry to do this but im getting a suuuper important package delivered today could you please keep it safe until i get home later tonight? 🥺🖤
You wanted him to guard a package, just neighborly things, exactly what you said you would text him for. 
Jungkook 3:49pm : sure, what is it?
He feels stupid immediately after hitting send, fingers curling together into fists as his eyes glare at his screen. Why the hell would he ask what the package was? Being a peeping Tom was clearly not enough, no he had to know about your online purchases. 
Y/N 3:52pm : just something for sore muscles 😅
Just like a typical horny boy would, his mind wanders to what exactly could be in the box, quickly texting you an ‘okay!👍🏻’ before locking his phone altogether. He was going to lose his mind. 
All according to plan. 
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Jungkook guards that package with his life, placed delicately on his kitchen counter, exactly where he left it the minute he saw the postman drop it off. He’s been glued to his couch since then, regularly looking over his shoulder to ensure the brown box wouldn’t spontaneously disappear. 
Just as he feels himself getting antsy the gentle knocking from his front door has him springing up from his couch, pausing a few feet away from the door as he eyes the knob before looking back at the package. Should he greet you with it in his hands, or would that seem like he was trying to rush you away?
When you knock a second time he opts for just opening the door, seeing you standing there with that friendly smile, a small tweed skirt and matching top showing him you had just got off work, his eyes focusing on your exposed legs for a moment too long until your voice snaps him out of it. 
“Hi Jungkook,” you greet him with that honey sweet voice, the tiny glimmer in your eyes betraying you but he doesn’t spot it. “Did you get my package?”
“Hey, yeah I did.” Leaving the door ajar, he steps further into his home, quickly retrieving the light box and bringing it to you, still patiently waiting with that polite smile as if you didn’t know what was packaged inside that box. 
“You’re a lifesaver!” you cheer, holding it close to your chest with a small sigh, “I don’t know what I would’ve done if this got stolen.”
Jungkook can feel his face warm up, not able to stop his mouth from running on autopilot, unintentionally outing himself as an extremely observant neighbor. “You must be really sore from going to the gym all the time huh?”
There's a silence that falls over you both as you eye him curiously, gaze flickering with the same mischief from earlier, something he can easily spot now and he desperately wants to shrink into himself. 
“Definitely,” you agree with a laugh, “thanks again, have a good night!”
And just like that you’re gone, leaving him with his forehead pressed against his front door as he feels like an idiot. “Really, you must be sore?” He mocks his own voice, rolling his eyes before standing up straight and retreating back into his room to finish the work he had neglected in favor of protecting your package. 
The same package that you were currently clutching onto as you bolted up your stairs with a pair of scissors in the opposite hand, debatably not the safest choice but it had to be done. You feel like a crazed woman as you stab into the clear tape to break the seal, peeling back the flaps and letting out a giddy laugh when you spot the sleek white box, a photo of the device printed on the front. 
With steady hands you pull out the prized toy, carelessly tossing the empty boxes to the side, hearing them land with a light thud. The soft silicone against your thumb fills you with anticipation, a silent click against the first button dulls down the excitement when it refuses to turn on. 
“Stupid fucking chargers.” you grunt, setting the device down and making your way back to the discarded boxes, pulling out the tiny white cable to plug it in. 
The provided pamphlet states a full charge in one hour, plenty of time for you to get a grip on yourself, the last thing you needed was to rip open your blinds and come face to face with your hot neighbor with the crazy eyes you’re sure you were sporting earlier, you really didn’t need to scare him off before the main event. 
Jungkook is none the wiser as he mindlessly scrolls through the endless data in front of him, eyes floating through the numbers in a dazed manner, his mind far too occupied with that stupid package. He knew exactly what it was, proudly deciphering the code of something for sore muscles to spell out vibrator for him in giant neon letters. 
Were you using it now, in your bedroom a good feet away from his own, laid out on your bed directly in his line of sight?
His mind continues to play out salacious scenarios as you finish applying your favorite lotion after the small body shower you took, the silk robe hanging off your shoulder as you bend forward. Your pink toy lays on your bed, the buttons now blinking to indicate a full charge, your plan was now back in motion. 
As you step back into your room and slowly crack open your blinds you realize Jungkook’s are still tightly shut. Looking up into the slowly darkening sky you notice the clouds beginning to loom overhead, a smile spreading on your lips as you think of a way to get Jungkook to open up his blinds for the show. 
Jungkook’s phone buzzes with a text a few seconds later, eyes widening slightly when he realizes it’s from you. 
Y/N 7:02pm : lol does it look like its gonna rain to you?
His head tilts in confusion at your question, nonetheless he stands from his desk, fully sliding up his blinds to stare up at the sky. When he notices the grey clouds he looks down at his phone to start to type, the small flash of movement from across the way making him freeze, looking directly through your window once more and seeing you innocently sitting on your bed, staring right at him with a smile. 
Jungkook can feel how wide his eyes get as he stares at you, leg crossed over the other as you rest back onto your palms, head tilted as you wave at him in greeting. Right where you want him. 
His hand raises up to wave back at you, the voice in his head screaming every obscenity he could think of as he attempts to smile, the grimace in his face making it hard for you not to laugh. 
You start slow, wanting to give him enough time to shut his blinds if he really wants no part in this, your hand coming up to begin pushing the robe off your shoulder further, the first sliver of skin being exposed to his eyes. Jungkook wants to scream, bang his head into the glass as he sees the way your skin glimmers, already knowing you had lathered on that damn lotion of yours. 
When he doesn’t move you let the other sleeve fall down, the swell of your breasts holding up the soft material, shielding them from his sight for another moment. Your eyes never leave his face, needing to see his reaction when you sit up straight and let the material pool around your hips, tits fully exposed for him to see. 
His reaction is well worth it, jaw dropping slightly as he spots the way your nipples harden in the exposed air, forehead nearly ramming into the window when you bring your hand up to pinch and twist at the pebbled buds. He feels his cock stirring in his pants when your head drops back, lips opening up to let out what he knows is the prettiest moan, head leveling out as you bite your lip and stare at him once more. 
Jungkook doesn’t know what to do as he watches you, champagne colored robe still hooked around your elbows as you reach behind your bed and pick up the pink toy you had bought today. The metallic capped bottom shines in the light and he feels like he’s caught in a trance as you showcase it. 
For a moment your attention drops down, landing on your phone as you quickly type out a message before setting it aside once more. His phone comes to life in his hand, nearly scaring him with its vibrations. 
Y/N 7:18pm : touch yourself please
He swears he’s gonna bust his load then and there, typing out a quick ‘okay’, a message you ignore entirely in favor of turning on your toy. The excited look in your eyes is clear as day when the device buzzes in your hand, Jungkook’s eager fingers unbuttoning his jeans as you start to trail the vibrating head along your body, passing over your nipples and gasping at the ticklish feeling. 
Looking across the way once more you see Jungkook’s gaze locked onto you, his body fully illuminated by his bedroom light, allowing you to see his hands start to push his pants down, taking his black briefs with them. Your teeth bite down onto your bottom lip as he raises his palm up to messily spit into it before coming back down to fist his slowly hardening cock. His covered chest rises and falls as he huffs out a breath, slowly squeezing his shaft as he glides up towards his head, coating his palm in the stray beads of precum that drip out of it. 
This further solidified that Jungkook was a pervert, at least in his own mind, who else would be so eager to jack off to the sight of their neighbor this easily. You didn’t think so though, knowing every one of your actions had a purpose, Jungkook wasn’t a pervert for being a predictable boy, he was doing exactly what you wanted him to do. 
As the head of your toy trails down your chest you take your time, circling your navel before reaching your hips, sliding down your thighs as you lean further back and begin to spread them apart. In a slow movement that Jungkook can’t look away from, you finally reveal yourself to him, folds glistening with your arousal, coating your inner thighs, allowing the toy to glide with ease. 
Jungkook groans loudly as you pass the buzzing toy over your clit, a featherlike touch that makes you twitch and moan, his hand tightening around his cock as he twists on the way up. You were absolutely sin personified, giving him a show as you tease yourself, mouth dropped open as you finally press the toy against your clit, fingers slipping into your entrance and pumping inside of you. He can only imagine the way you sound as you stretch yourself open, hips rolling up into your hand as the pleasure jolts through you. 
Fuck, what he would do to be able to touch you, hear your moans, be the one to hold that toy against you until you were writhing around. 
You can see it in his eyes, the want clouding them as he watches you, his hand steadily pumping his length, quickening up each time your body twitches. When you pull the toy away his brows furrow, releasing his cock as he places his sticky palm against the window, wondering just what you were planning now as you reach for your phone once more. 
It only takes you a few seconds to type out the message and hit send, looking up at him with that same predatory gaze you’ve been wearing all night. As he unlocks his phone again you stand up, letting the robe fully slide off your body, pooling around your feet as you step closer to your window, arms crossed under your chest to push your tits out further as you watch him. 
Y/N 7:32pm : come over
He rereads the message three times, cock still out for you to see as he contemplates his options, finally looking back up and nearly choking when he sees the way you’re almost pressed against your own window, a sweet smile on your lips as you wave him over. That helps him make his decision, locking his phone and groaning as he slips his cock back into his briefs and shimmies his pants back on. 
Your eyes gleam as he turns to exit his room, the light dimming off as he bolts down his stairs towards his front door. When he steps out onto his porch he sees the ground is damp, small droplets now falling from the sky, the chill creeping through his thin layers as he navigates across your connected driveways with his palms covering his extremely prominent bulge. 
“Please be unlocked,” he whispers under his breath when he gets to your door, turning the knob and sighing in relief when it unlocks. Jungkook doesn’t care about manners as he steps in, locking the door behind him and instantly climbing the stairs two at a time, already knowing where your room was since your house was a mirror copy of his own. 
When he finally pushes his door open he finds you perched on your bed, fully naked and waiting for him with that same toy trailing up and down your torso. The need for introductions are thrown out the window as he crosses the room, immediately settling beside you, his large hand cupping your cheek to pull you in for a kiss. 
It catches you by surprise, the normally shy neighbor who got nervous whenever you caught him staring, never expecting him to be the type to go after what he wanted like this but the way he takes control makes you lean into his touch. His lips are tender against yours, hand guiding your face closer as he slowly licks his way into your mouth, a moan of approval leaving you as his warm tongue tickles yours. 
You’d often fantasized about kissing him, wondering if he was the type to tease, to pull back and leave you wanting more but the desperation guides his movements, stops him from not fulfilling his own desires. Jungkook kisses you with passion, hunger leading him until he’s pushing you flat on your back, hands dropping down to gently hold onto your neck. 
The toy is cast to the side, your own hands sliding through his long hair as you sigh into his mouth, the wet smacks of each kiss filling your ears. 
“Take it off,” you mumble against his lips, trailing your hands down his back and tugging his shirt up, determined to rip it off of him to finally see the glorious body you know he has. Jungkook presses a quick kiss against you before kneeling up and pulling his shirt off by his neckline, each inch of exposed skin making your mouth water. 
The way his muscles rippled, pulled taut as he stretches out and tosses the black long sleeve aside, bulging out when he finally relaxes, you can’t help but let your fingers trace each ridge on his stomach. Jungkook lets you take him in, not opposed to the lust swirling in your eyes, your tongue licking over your lips as you admire him, following the lines of each tattoo up his arm until you reach his face. 
“Like what you see?” he murmurs, looking down at you with lidded eyes, letting them roam along your body, the swell of your tits that rise with each breath, how your hips can’t keep still, searching for any bit of friction you could find. 
“You’re fucking unreal.”
He holds his breath when you begin undoing his pants, in a hurry to see his cock without the distance between you. “This is what you wanted isn’t it?” he realizes, the completely unphased look on your face, the perfectly executed texts and package delivery, just knowing that he had done everything you wanted him to do. 
“It was fun though wasn’t it Jungkook, tell me–“ he helps you tug his jeans down, his briefs going with them and joining his shirt on the floor, “What did you like more, seeing me do everyday things or watching me play with myself?”
A choked groan slips past his lips as you wrap your hand around his cock, slowly sliding up his length as you question him, enjoying the way he struggles to respond. “God you’re filthy,” he grunts, jaw slack as you sit up, face now level with his cock as he rests on his knees. 
The sly smirk you give him shows that you know this, know exactly how filthy you are, using it to your advantage to get what you wanted. With bated breath he watches the way you inch forward, tongue sticking out to gently lick the swollen head of his cock, the salty bead of precum picked up by your tongue. 
“Can’t help it.” You sink onto him as the words leave your mouth, lips wrapping around him and he sighs at the warmth that envelops him, the wetness of your tongue circling his tip making his stomach tense up, muscles flexing to keep himself from thrusting into your throat. 
The small moan you let out as he fills your mouth makes his body rattle, the feeling of his dick heavy on your tongue as you slide further down, wrapping your hand around the base to steady yourself. This was much more satisfying than seeing him play with himself a few feet away, the sighs of appreciation that float in the air each time you pull back make you keep going, wanting to see him fall apart. 
Jungkook doesn’t know when his hands tangle themselves in your hair, taking it upon himself to guide you up and down his length, starting a filthy rhythm that lit his body up. He urges you down more, hands coaxing you, pushing you further onto him until you’re choking as he fills your throat. He doesn’t think you’ve ever looked prettier, eyes full of tears, nose pressed against his stomach as you hum around his cock. 
He pulls you off of him a few seconds later, the wet gasp you let out ripping through the air as you catch your breath but that sly smile remains on your face, eyeing his messy length, bobbing slightly as he moves around. 
Leaning over you once more his hands cup your face, thumb rubbing under your eyes where he spots the unshed tears threatening to spill over, collecting against your lower lashes. “Fuck, I bet you’re pretty when you cry.”
The rasp in his voice makes your stomach flip, more wetness coating your thighs and further ruining your sheets. “Make me,” you whisper, smiling when his eyebrows raise in question. “Make me cry Jungkook.”
His cock throbs at your response, wanting nothing more than to do what you want, turn you into a crying mess as you beg for him like he often thought about. “You sure?”
With a small nod you’re crawling backwards, flipping yourself over onto your hands and knees, arching your back for him as he eyes your exposed cunt, sodden folds shining when you wiggle your hips. “I’m sure.”
Jungkook fists his cock as he approaches you, slotting his knees between your thighs, inching forward until he’s circling your entrance in a teasing motion. Flashes of the way you had spread yourself open minutes prior play in his mind as he slowly breaches your entrance, the first feeling of you taking his breath away, eyes falling shut as you let out the first moan. 
Your hands fist the sheets as he stretches you open, his size filling you up so deliciously, inch by inch splitting you open. He can’t look away from it, mesmerized with the way you take him in, molding around him like he was meant to be there. 
A whimper leaves you as he presses his palms onto your ass, holding you still once he finally bottoms out, hips pressed flush against you, walls fluttering around him as he gives you time to adjust to his size. 
“This is–“ you groan when he slides back a little, “this is just how I pictured it.” The laughter laced in your voice piques his interest, leaning over your body to see you with your face pressed against your sheets, a teasing smile on your face. 
“Yeah?” Jungkook questions, tightening his grip on your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh, no doubt marking them for you to see later. “You pictured getting fucked from behind by your neighbor?”
“Mhm,” you squeal out, giggling when he starts to fuck into you, pulling out nearly all the way before thrusting back in, the small smack of your skin mixing in with your laughter and moans. 
“I knew it,” he grunts, trailing his hand up your spine, around your neck until his palm was pressing your face into the mattress, holding you down as he ravished you, stretched you apart and turned your impure thoughts into mush. “Knew you did it on purpose, fuck, do you know how guilty I felt?”
Your walls tighten around him and he moans out at the feeling, the warmth sucking him back in each time he pulled out, the wet squelch of you soaking his cock getting louder each time. 
“S-sorry.” It's quiet, but he knows you don’t mean it, knows the words are lace with trouble as you start to rut back onto him, the playful smile felt against his palm spelling it out for him. 
“Oh you’re sorry?” Jungkook picks up his merciless pace, knowing he found the right rhythm when you let out a cry of surprise, arching further for him and keening as he nudges against your sweet spot, the first sparks of your orgasm flashing within you. The fact that you were getting what you want sending you closer to the edge faster than expected. 
“No, I’m not,” you admit, shamelessly moaning with each thrust. There was no way in hell you were sorry, if this was the outcome you’d do it all again the same exact way. Jungkook wouldn’t argue with that, the earlier guilt he felt long gone, replaced with pure hunger, only increasing when your moans start to get breathier, the panting felt against his hand, hot and heavy as you whimpered. 
“I know you’re not, you love putting on a show for me huh, knowing I was watching you from my window while you fucked with me.”
His words make your mind spin, the intoxicating roll of his hips dragging you under into the same state of desperation he was in, weeks of mindless torture fueling the both of you with more than enough sexual frustration. 
“I loved it,” you whine when he pushes your face harder into the sheets, the roughness he’s displaying making your stomach flip, thighs spreading out further for him and you let out a trembling moan when he sinks deeper into you. 
You were going to cum, he recognized the way your body tightened up, walls clamping around him, making him curse as he continues to rut into you. Jungkook smiles as you cry out, chest pushing into your mattress, hands pulling at your sheets in desperation until suddenly, you’re cumming with a shout of his name, the feeling taking you completely by surprise. “F-fuck, Jungkook.”
He gasps as you gush around him, dripping down your thighs, creaming his cock until it's slick with your arousal. Jungkook doesn’t waste any time pulling out of you, needing to see your face as he sank back into you, now on your back with a dazed out smile. 
A soft groan drips off your tongue, thick and needy when he bottoms out once more, arms wrapping around his shoulders as he starts to rock into you, forehead sweaty with his long hair falling around his face. It frames him perfectly, a simple curtain letting you see every expression he gives you, a private show just for you to witness. 
“Wanna make you cry,” he confesses, bending down and kissing your chest, his right hand mindlessly swatting at the bed until he finds exactly what he’s looking for, that damn vibrator he had guarded with his life earlier. 
The second the small vibrations meet your ears, your eyes go wide, catching the evil smirk on his lips as he holds the toy between you, fidgeting with the settings until it’s low enough to start. “Wait Jungkook, I’m sensitive.”
He leans back enough to trail the head down your stomach, taunting you as he circles your hips and reaches your mound. “You told me to make you cry though didn’t you baby?”
The excitement rushes through you once more, letting out shaky gasp as he just barely touches your sensitive clit, your body jolting and squeezing around his cock. Jungkook shuts his eyes at the feeling, bringing it back to rest against the tiny pearl, the low settings making a hum course through you, your fingers digging into his shoulders. 
“Ah, Jungkook,” you cry, chest heaving as he starts to fuck you again, hips swirling around, unsure if you want to retreat from the toy or press against it harder, the slight sting of pain morphing into pleasure the longer he keeps it up. 
“What?” he mocks, raising the settings until you’re shouting, a delirious laugh following suit as your thighs tighten around his waist in reflex. Jungkook knows you love this, your teeth biting down onto your bottom lip as you stare at him with glassy eyes full of tears, urging him to fuck you harder, begging him for more. 
He does what you ask, pistoning his hips into you with enough force to jostle your body, the head of his cock just shy of hitting your cervix, waves of pleasure mixing in with the vibrations against your clit. Jungkook can feel his own orgasm creeping up on him, crawling up his spine, goosebumps flaring out on his skin, each wet thrust and cry from you only pushing him closer. 
Jungkook watches you carefully, lost in his own pleasure but focused enough to see the way your eyes well up further, the needy sobs you release as he fucks you just right wrapping around him and urging him on, not wanting to hold back when this is what you’ve been wanting. 
The small inkling to be mean and actually see the tears fall spurs something inside of him. With a few more clicks the vibrator hits the highest setting, buzzing intensely against your clit and you nearly thrash at the sudden feeling, back arching up as you gasp. 
Jungkook chuckles, the low timbre making you whimper as he presses the head of the toy harder against you. “You gonna cum again, make a big mess around my cock?”
“Jungkook,” it’s a choked cry of his name, your arms seeking purchase around his frame, needing something to ground you as you start to float off. 
“C’mon, wanna see you cry.” He watches in awe as your body tenses of for a moment, the pleasure catching just right to push you over. 
“Fuck, fuck–“ you chant, words slurring together as a second orgasm is pulled out of you, eyes rolling back when the euphoric feeling crashes over you, tears finally spilling over and body turning limp as he continues to fuck you through it just like the last one. He feels like he won as the wetness pools under your eyes, brows furrowing together as you mewl at the feeling of your orgasm cresting, heartbeat slowing in your chest as you come down. 
“So good,” he mumbles at the high vibrations felt against his cock, the flutters from your velvety walls keeping him from turning it off, sliding it down a bit closer to your entrance until he’s gasping as well. 
“Too much,” you plead, eyes misty as you stare at him, mouth dropping open in a quiet moan when he ruts against you in search of his own release. His free hand reaches up to cup your cheek, wiping away the stray tears that had fallen against your skin. 
“I knew you’d look pretty when you cry.” He sighs, shutting his eyes when you pulse around his length. “I’m almost there, you okay?”
His concern makes you smile, nodding as you place your hand over his own on your face, dealing with the oversensitivity for him to get his own release. “Yeah, cum inside me please.”
Jungkook groans in response, sliding the vibrator further down until it rests against the base of his cock, gliding along his length with each of his thrusts, the buzzing making his body tingle. 
“Shit,” he grunts out, hips fucking you with more urgency, rutting against you sloppily, eyes opening up to stare directly at you and the lustfilled look you give him is what pushes him over. A choked groan dies in his throat when he sinks into you as deep as he can, spurts of his cum filling you up as his face twists in pleasure, mouth dropped open to release a soft moan that you swallow with a sweet kiss.  
You hum against his lips when he thrusts shallowly a few more times until finally coming to a halt, turning off the toy and chucking it aside with no care before collapsing on top of you in pure dramatics. Jungkook has no qualms about how much he weighs, making himself right at home as he nuzzles into your chest, sighing in content when you rake your fingers through his hair. 
“I feel sweaty, and I know I made a mess on your sheets.” Jungkook mumbles out, cheek pressed against your tits, eyes slipped shut with his slowly softening cock still inside of you. No doubt would your sheets be damp with an unholy mixture of the night's debauchery, something you would surely deal with later. 
“It’s okay, I like the mess.” Your words are meant to be joking but the way his cock twitches inside you shows he takes everything you say seriously, simply rolling your eyes with a smile as you tease him further. “You’re a pervert.”
Jungkook scoffs at this now, taking full offense as he pulls out of you with an accusatory glare, eyes zeroing in on your evil smile as you prop yourself up against your headboard. “I’m the pervert?” When you nod he laughs loudly, finger pointing at you in a less than threatening manner, “Says the one who gave me free shows every night!”
“It’s not my fault you’re easy to rope in, you were hooked the second you saw me have that dance party in here huh?”
He nods instantly, knowing exactly what night you were talking about, it was the night he had moved in, before you had even realized he was your neighbor, having a full on dance party to some top 40’s from the 2000’s playlist you found. That was the first night he ever saw you and ever since then he had left his blinds cracked just to see a glimpse of you, not knowing what lewd ideas you had planned. 
“Was it the facemask that did it for you?” You laugh, playfully nudging his side with your foot as he glares, the small smile on his face showing you he wasn’t taking this seriously. 
“No, it was those sexy ass boyshorts you had on, I think they were grey. They made your ass look nice.”
He laughs with you as you squeal, knowing exactly what pair of underwear you had on, the oversized shirt doing nothing to hide them as you danced around like a lunatic. 
“Is this gonna be a thing?” he wonders, taking it upon himself to enter your bathroom to grab a towel, the least he could do was clean up the mess he had caused between your thighs. 
“Should I text you about the weather tomorrow, call you over to mine this time? I’ll let you choke me if you’re into that.” He says it so casually it catches you by surprise, a cackle leaving you as he finishes cleaning you up, handing you your robe to cover up as he slips back into his underwear. 
“Are you into that?”
“I could be,” he winks, flopping onto your bed beside you, letting his hand trail up your thigh until it reaches the hem of your robe, tracing the goosebumps that flare up because of it. 
That was definitely something you could work with, mind already planning out the next time you’d torture your neighbor, wondering just how your hands would look like wrapped around his thick neck. Maybe you could see if he looked pretty when he cried. 
He spots the mischief in your face instantly but before he could indulge you further, there was one thing absolutely eating away at his mind. “By the way, you never added me to that gossip group chat.”
Your lips purse into a tight smile as your fingers return to his hair, twirling each strand as you hold back a laugh, knowing it absolutely did not exist. You weren’t in the mood to crush his spirit, knowing he desperately wanted to know the ins of the neighborhood gossip so you simply shrug in faux apology, telling yet another white lie. “My bad, I’ll add you tomorrow.”
It’s good enough for Jungkook pressing a kiss against your thigh as he thinks of what the following night will bring, his mind also picturing just how cute your hands would look around his neck. 
3K notes · View notes
starshapedkookie · 12 months ago
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↳soulmate (noun): a person who is bound to another through the strongest  level of emotional and physical connection. one is given a name on the body upon 18 years of age and any transgressions against the laws of soul-bonding will not occur without harm. 
pairing: jungkook x female reader 
word count: 31.4k (sorry guys, another monster lol)
genre: soulmate/destiny au, college au, photographer jungkook, angst, fluff, smut
warnings: smut (protected sex, vanilla, light choking), swearing, angst!!!, fluff (jungkook is head over heels), drinking, mentions of anti-depressants and therapy
recommended songs: falling by harry styles, love again by dua lipa, hold on by chord overstreet, dusk till dawn by zayn & sia, when we were young by lost kings
The last thing you needed this morning was for your coffee to get knocked out of your hand and crash onto the pavement—but of course, that is exactly what happened.
“Ugh,” you groan loudly, bending down to pick up the plastic cup. You did not have time for this. It wasn’t even your first day of classes yet here you were, making a fool of yourself in front of everyone. You quickly dispose of the plastic in a recyclable can before hurrying off to find your class. You were already going to be late—but you knew you didn’t want to be that kid on the first day coming in hungover and 20 minutes late. So far though, that was going to be exactly you.
You rush into the building of your class before rushing up the stairs to the main auditorium. You glance down at your watch and you roll eyes. 7 minutes late—that’s doable right? You enter the large room and you curse to yourself when it’s quiet and the only words are coming from your professors mouth.
“Class I believe we’ve found our first day straggler,” the professor’s voice erupts in the room through his microphone and you freeze in your spot. Everyone’s eyes are on you and you actually want to crawl into a hole and bury yourself alive. Laughter fills the room and the professor goes back to the syllabus as you find a seat towards the back of the classroom. You sit down by yourself and lean back in the seat. Not only was your head absolutely busting from last night, you also had never felt more embarrassment in your entire life. You pull out your laptop and pull up the uploaded syllabus and try to hide yourself within your t-shirt.
“As humans, we think attraction is spontaneous and comes from here,” your professor pauses and points to his chest where his heart would be, “When in fact, that’s not true. Our brains run complex calculations that decide whom we think is attractive. This is what this course is about. The psychology behind gender, sex, and even the ideals of soulmates are all very much correlated in this course,” your ears drown out his talking once the ’S’ word is mentioned—no, not sex, but soulmate.
Soulmates—self explanatory but usually not discussed out in the open like this. Some people believed in them, others didn’t. Growing up, you had always heard about soulmates and their stories—your parents managing to bring it up at least once a week. It’s said that one will receive a name by 18. At 13, you and your older sister decided that it was all bogus as you had many crushes on boys growing up. You could like someone but that didn’t mean you were soulmates though. Your sister quickly flipped her stance about soulmates when she was 17, you 15, and suddenly a mark showed up on the inside of her finger. Not just any mark—but a name. With the name engraved in her skin like a tattoo and only a few months after that, she had met her match.
You on the other hand remained nameless for the rest of high school. You waited and waited for a name to show up by the age of 18—but it never did. You felt alone and like a glitch. At 19, you decided you weren’t going to sit around and wait for a soulmate. Besides, you were young—since when did you have to find your life partner so soon?
Now at 21, nearing 22, you were still nameless. Did it bother you? You were indifferent. You felt lucky to be able to experience college without being tied down to something serious but now as graduation was coming faster than ever and it seemed like everyone around you was finding their other half—worry did sink into your skin sometimes.
“You,” someone snaps you from your reverie and you think the professor has called you again until you see a two guys sitting two rows back from you, one of them pointing at you.
You point at yourself wondering if he’s got the right girl. As you look around the class, everyone is shuffling around to what seems to be small groups. Had you zoned out that bad? You look back at the two guys and gather your belongings before heading their way.
“Uh, hi?” You say awkwardly as you shuffle towards them.
“Told you she’d come,” one guys nudges the other one with a smirk, “Wanna be in our group?”
“Group?” You look back to the front of the classroom and see a slide displayed “FINAL PROJECT” shining bright. “Yeah, sure whatever,” you sit down beside of the chatty male before he finally introduces himself.
“I’m Namjoon,” he smiles.
“Y/N,” you reply looking at the other guy who has stayed silent this whole interaction.
“This is Jungkook,” Namjoon says and Jungkook looks at you offering a weak smile.
“Hey,” he says simply. Jungkook has pretty eyes, round and doe-like, innocent yet inviting. You catch yourself noticing the ink lining his forearms and knuckles.
You take a seat beside of Namjoon and focus your attention back to the board. Your professor explains each group has a variety of topics to choose from and present to him later at the end of the semester. As much as you weren’t in the mood for much talking, you were thankful this Namjoon and Jungkook guy asked you to be in their group because you’re not sure you would have had the courage to ask anyone else.
Lecture ends with an online syllabus quiz due at the end of the week and you quickly gather your things to leave.
“Um,” you start before you get ready to leave, “here's my number. Just text whenever you want to get started,” you slip the piece of paper to Namjoon. Your eyes meet Jungkook’s again and something stirs deep within your stomach. Namjoon’s voice breaks your gaze.
“Alright, sounds good. Nice to me you.”
“You guys too.” And then you’re off to your next class, hoping you won’t cause as much attention in that one.
“Jesus Christ,” you exhale deeply, lying down on Taehyung’s bed. He eyes you from his desk.
“Rough first day?” He inquires, swirling back and forth in his chair.
“You have no idea Tae,” you groan rolling over to look at him. “I should have known this day would be shit the second I slept through my alarm.”
He gives you a small smile, “At least it’s over now. You got much homework?”
You shake your head, “No thank god.”
“Do you want to grab dinner with Jimin and I then?”
Your stomach growls loudly at the idea of food. You don’t even say anything and you don’t need to. Taehyung gives you a laugh before slipping on his ridiculously ugly fur-lined Gucci mules. You stand up from his bed, straightening out your giant t-shirt and running shorts. Yours and Taehyung’s fashion clashed tremendously, but that’s what made you guys—well you.
You and Taehyung meet Jimin at a Thai place downtown. It’s cheap and delicious and a bowl of pad-thai to sooth your brain after today sounded heavenly. Jimin is standing outside, wearing a put together yet sporty outfit. He smiles when he sees the two of you approaching.
“Hey guys!” Jimin smiles widely, leaning over to give you a tight squeeze. He pulls away and gives Taehyung an even bigger hug, the two of them pecking each other on the lips quickly. You watch the two soulmates in awe. As much as you wanted to believe the soulmate thing was bullshit—these two were living proof that it works. And deep down, it hurts.
The three of you order your food and lean back into your chair across from the two lovers as they converse about their day.
“What about you Y/N? Did you have a good first day?” Jimin asks. He’s got to the be the most considerate person you’ve ever met.
“Are you sure you want to hear her spiel?” Taehyung mutters sarcastically and you poke your tongue out at him.
“It was horrible Jimin,” you pout, “First, I slept through my alarm which I never do, was hungover as sit so I needed some coffee and then I got my iced coffee that was five dollars and then dropped it everywhere—“
“Wait, you were running late and still got coffee?” Jimin raises an eyebrow.
“Yeah?” You say in a duh-like tone. Jimin and Taehyung laugh at your before you continue.
“Then I walked into my first class and the fucking professor had the audacity to call me the first day straggler! How awful is that?!”
“I mean it’s true,” Taehyung grins and you flip him off.
“Not. The. Point,” you offer dramatically, “And then all of a sudden these two guys are calling me over to be in their group for a project and they’re both extremely cute although one talked way too much and one didn’t talk at all—“ “Which one was cuter?” Jimin asks curiously. Taehyung swats at his arm.
“The quiet one,” you admit, “At least to me. And then after that, I went to my last class and that went smoothly. However it started going downhill again when I went and grabbed lunch and I got a salad from East—“ “Oh no,” Jimin groans, “East dining hall? Y/N you know that place is whack.”
“I know that but I was hungry! And then I ate my salad and then while I was driving back to my apartment I literally almost shit myself.”
The three of you begin to laugh at how ridiculous your day actually was.
“I mean what kind of fucking luck is that?!”
“You’ve definitely had better days for sure…” Taehyung says eying you from across the table, “I mean look at that outfit and hair,” he tsks.
“Hey! Fuck you,” you pick up your straw wrapper and throw it at him across from you. He’s laughing just as your food arrives. It looks and even smells better, the three of you immediately digging in.
The three of you continue small chatter amongst yourselves, Jimin and Taehyunf being too cute and in love for their own good. You are in the middle of slurping your noodles when your nearly choke on your food when a new, but familiar face walks into the restaurant. The Jungkook guy from your class. And he’s not alone as a girl who is extremely pretty trails in behind of him.
“What are you looking at?” Taehyung asks and he turns over his shoulder to follow your line of sight. “Who is that cutie?” He then says. Jimin agrees.
“It’s the guy from my class,” you whisper, hoping he doesn’t spot you. “The quiet one,” you specify. Jimin smirks before nudging Taehyung.
“You’re right,” Taehyung says looking back at you. For some reason, despite not knowing anything about Jungkook but his name, you dislike the way the random girl is looking at him. It doesn’t settle well in your stomach.
“Guess he has a soulmate,” you say slightly disappointed staring into your food.
Jimin speaks up, “No he doesn’t.”
You and Taehyung furrow your eyebrows at him.
“Are you guys forgetting soulmates is literally what I’m doing my thesis on? I can spot them when I see them,” he says keeping his voice low, “That’s not his soulmate, trust me.”
“…Right,” you hesitate. You glance back towards Jungkook and his date to find that they have been seated elsewhere in the restaurant. You bite your lip, stirring your noodles around, the weird feeling you felt when you first spotted Jungkook still deep rooted in your stomach. You don’t mention Jungkook again the entire night, only sparing glances around the restaurant to get another look at him. You come up short.
Your first week back at school is nearly over as Friday approaches faster than ever. Thankfully, unlike your first day shambles, the rest of your week went fairly smooth. You’ve managed to get ahead in most of your classes already and you can’t wait for the afternoon nap you’re gifting yourself later today.
Ever since Monday, you have decided to sit beside Namjoon and Jungkook in your psychology lecture now. They were easy to talk to, albeit Jungkook still quite shy, but being with your final project group was convenient. Speaking of Jungkook—he was no where to be seen today.
“Where’s your friend?” You inquire as you sit beside Namjoon. Normally Jungkook is right beside of him as the two of them always get to class earlier than you.
Namjoon shrugs, “I don’t know, he didn’t answer any of my texts this morning.”
You brush it off as your jackass of a professor begins his lecture. Your first official lecture of the semester is on the basis of the human brain and it’s connection to relationships. You nearly roll your eyes out of your head, how fun. Ten or so minutes go back of you typing up notes trying to keep up with him until rummaging disrupts your thoughts.
You glance to your left and spot Jungkook coming in late, his hair underneath a baseball cap, keeping his eyes down as he makes his way over to you and Namjoon. You inwardly wish the professor would call him out on his tardiness but of course, that doesn’t happen. Maybe your professor is a jackass and a sexist?
“Look who is late today,” You whisper as he sits down beside you. His brown eyes give you a glance before nodding to Namjoon.
“Sorry,” he gives you a soft smile, “Today has not been my day,” he briefly explains.
You raise your eyebrows as him, but decide against questioning him.
“I get it,” you respond.
“Hey! You in back,” your professor is suddenly stopping his lecture and pointing his finger towards you. Oh for fucks sake. “If you’re going to talk in my class, don’t bothering coming as I post the lecture slides online afterwards.”
You feel embarrassment taking over your body as Namjoon to your right is snickering at you and Jungkook on your left is sending you an apologetic stare.
Definitely sexist.
The next couple weeks of classes went by in a flash. So far, they were all going well and you liked all your professors—minus Mr. Sexist Jackass for psychology—but other than that, you were having no trouble. You had been able to meet other people and get into study group chats which you knew would help in the next few weeks as your first midterm was quickly approaching.
If there was one thing you were slacking on though, it was your group project for said psychology class. Which is why you texted Namjoon and Jungkook to meet at a coffee place on campus to discuss getting started and what roles you all would take.
“Hey,” Jungkook is the first to arrive and you give him a sweet smile. Within the past two weeks, he had become more open to talking to you and you sensed a blossoming friendship between you and him.
“Hi, how are you?” You ask him as you move your stuff out of the way so he could sit down. He sits across from you, his eyes meeting yours.
“I’m alright,” he says with not much energy taking a gulp from whatever drink he was sipping on. It looked to be an iced americano. “You?”
“Pretty good, although I’m already stressed about exams coming up,” you let your worries slip from you.
Jungkook shakes his head, “I haven’t thought about exams yet,” he says honestly.
You give him a hard stare before saying, “What even is your major? I know Namjoon is pre-med but I don’t think you’ve told me.”
He swallows the rest of his drink, “Sports medicine,” he responds with a straight smile.
“Hm,” you say, “So do you dress up as Sporty Spice for Halloween then?”
He lets out a laugh before nodding, “Yeah, every year.”
You laugh with him and you can’t help but notice how great his smile is. He really is attractive, you can’t deny that.
“Where the fuck is Namjoon?” You groan after your laughter dies out, looking down at your watch.
“Here!” You jump in your seat as Namjoon comes up behind you and you nearly fall out of your seat. Namjoon apologizes quickly about being late before scooting to sit beside you.
“Don’t worry about it,” you shake your head, “So, when do you guys want to start working on our project? I would hate for us to procrastinate and have to cram at the end of the semester.”
Namjoon nods, “I was thinking the same. We need to choose a topic first though… got any ideas?” He takes out a pen and notepad to scribble stuff down. You could tell Namjoon was just as studious as you were… Jungkook on the other hand was definitely more of a “go with the flow” type of student—not necessarily a bad thing though.
“Kook, any ideas?” Namjoon asks and Jungkook shrugs before throwing out there—
“Sex,” He says and you snicker at his suggestion. “What? That’s all the professor talks about, might as well give him something he’s interested in…” Jungkook retaliates.
You glance at Namjoon and he rolls his eyes.
“I get what you’re saying Kook but I think we should be more specific than that,” Namjoon deadpans and you nod agreeing with him. “Y/N?”
“Mmmm,” you hum, “Maybe we could do research on how sex differs between different people?”
Namjoon nods slowly, looking over at Jungkook quickly, “What if looked at how sex affects the body when it comes to soulmates?”
You throat goes dry at Namjoon’s suggestion and you have to compose yourself so you won’t give yourself away. You look over at Jungkook who looks just as uncomfortable as you do and it makes you furrow your eyebrows. Maybe Jimin’s sixth sense was right?
“I mean is there even research for that?” You look at him, your question somewhat patronizing.
“Oh yeah,” he says matter-of-factly, “There’s lots of research on how the body responds when people are intimate with people that aren’t their soulmates.”
You glance at Jungkook again whose eyes are dancing around the room and you’re not even sure he’s tuned into the conversation anymore.
“What do you think Jungkook?” You ask him.
“Sure,” he says, “Whatever will get us the grade.”
“Alright then, let’s meet up again next week after we each do some research,” Namjoon smiles before gathering his things up, “I hate to bounce like this but my tutoring shift starts in ten minutes and those freshman are so gullible I can make twice as much money off of them,” he says before waving you two off, leaving you and Jungkook alone.
“Does he really scam freshman?” You ask, somewhat horrified at his statement. Jungkook lets out a laugh, visibly a lot more comfortable now that the previous conversation has passed.
“Only when then they’re dumb enough,” he responds before he begins to gather his things too, “See in you class?”
You nod once, noticing what seems to be a silver Rolex covering his left wrist. Who the hell has a Rolex in college?
“See you in class.”
. “Well, well look who the cat dragged in?” Jimin smiles at you from behind the bar. Yeah—not only was Jimin currently getting his master’s in psychology, he also bartended on the weekends at one of your local bars.
You give him a smile as Taehyung isn’t far behind you, putting his head on your shoulder to look up at the menu.
“Hi babe,” Jimin smiles and Taehyung returns one, wrapping his arms around your front.
“Hi,” he smiles, visibly much more drunk than you were. “I’m pretending she’s you so don’t get jealous okay?” He slurs.
“Hey!” You fight back looking at Taehyung, “Crazy how people change after you ‘fall in love’,” you air quote yourself with sarcasm.
Taehyung laughs in your ear, “You should try it sometime babe,” under normal circumstances, you would have felt very offended at his remark because he knows your situation but with alcohol running through your veins—you let it slide.
“Can I have two green tea shots?” You ask Jimin and he nods quickly.
“Make it four,” Taehyung orders and Jimin laughs before nodding, heading off to make your shots.
Taehyung finally lets go of your middle and you both settle to lean on the bar whilst your drinks are being made.
“How was your week babe?” Taehyung asks, “Better I presume? You look hot so I’m assuming all is well?” He raises an eyebrow at you.
You gives him a smile, glancing down at your outfit. Your mini-wrap skirt and skin tight tank top was as basic as it could get, but it made you look and feel good about yourself.
“Good as it gets Tae,” you say flinging your hair behind your shoulder. On a scale 1 to 10 of drunkeness, you were probably a good 5 but you knew once Jimin was finished with your shots, you would be closer to a 7 or 8.
“I know I’m going to sound fucking crazy right now but it’s kind of just registering what I said to you about falling in love and I did not mean it like that—“ “Taehyung it’s fine,” you shake your head, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“No,” he shakes his head, “It’s not… I’m sorry I’m just really drunk right now,” he groans almost painfully.
“I know,” you smile at him before noticing Jimin has come back with your shots. “And you’re about to be even more drunk so whatever you say, apologize for it now.”
He looks up at the ceiling closing his eyes, “I’m sorry to whoever for the dumb shit I will say the rest of the evening, amen.”
“He’s religious now?” Jimin asks scooting the glasses over to you two.
“Apparently,” you eye him before taking a glass for you and handing one to Taehyung.
“To… senior year!” Taehyung says loudly over the music and you nod, clinking your glasses together.
“To senior year!” You say before downing the shot in its entirety. “Oh my god Jimin,” you groan, “I will never forgive you for getting me on these.”
“What can I say? If you’re gonna drink might as well enjoy it,” is the last thing he says before checking on another customer beside you and Taehyung.
“Oh god,” Taehyung says after downing his shot, looking over your shoulder.
“What?” You ask him, getting ready to down your second one.
“It’s the quiet one, the cute one,” Taehyung’s words confuse you until you begin to piece them together. Quiet… cute… Jungkook.
You take a glance over your shoulder and you nearly jump out of your skin when you see Jungkook looking right back at you. He gives you a small wave and smile and you do the same. He looks really good—blue jeans a t-shirt with his lovely ink being show. What intrigues you the most though is a 35mm camera hanging around his neck. You don’t recognize any of the people he is with before you turn back around, feeling your cheeks heat up even though no one could see it.
“Jungkook,” you say to Taehyung, “That’s his name.”
As much as you wished Taehyung would stop staring in his direction, you knew he was drunk and fighting him on it wouldn’t get you anywhere.
“Well, I think Jungkook,” Taehyung grabs his second shot, “Is hot as fuck and you should totally make a move,” Taehyung finally looks back at you and downs his liquor without waiting on you. You follow suit, the shot slivering down your throat.
“No,” you shake your head, “I don’t think he’s into me, plus I don’t even know if he has a partner or not.”
“You heard what Jimin said a couple weeks ago,” he retorts.
“How does Jimin know he’s right? I mean it’s not like we as humans have a fucking ‘yeah I have a soulmate’ scent to us like were goddamn dogs or something. I mean as much as I would totally make a move on him, I just don’t think I can do—“
“Uh, Y/N,” Taehyung nudges you from your rant.
“What?” You return harshly. A small smirk rises on his face before he points beside of you. You look to your left and your eyes widen when you see Jungkook coming up behind of you.
“J-Jungkook,” you manage to get out, “Hi.”
He approaches you and Taehyung with a warm smile, “Hey Y/N.” His eyes move to Taehyung and you clear your throat to introduce them.
“Jungkook this is Taehyung, Taehyung… Jungkook,” you smile between the two handsome men.
“Nice you to meet you,” Taehyung smiles widely and Jungkook nods.
“What are you doing out tonight?” You ask Jungkook and he steps closer to you as someone pushes past him.
“Trying to relieve some stress,” he answers with a laugh, “Can I get you a drink?” He scratches the back of his head, glancing over at Taehyung again.
“Oh, are you sure?” You ask him before he nods again. You give him a smile, “Alright, whatever you’re having I’ll have.”
“Jimin!” You yell over the music to get his attention. He stops drying a glass and immediately comes to you, his eyes falling on the companion behind of you.
“Can I get two Michelob's?” Jungkook says and you can feel his chest pressing into your back as the overwhelming amount of people pushing and pulling in the bar.
Jimin nods before quickly going into the cooler, popping the tops from the bottle and sliding them over to you.
“Thanks,” you both say grabbing them.
“Thank you,” you turn around to Jungkook and in this position, you underestimated how close you actually are to him. Chest to chest and his head towers over as he looks down at you with a smile.
“No problem,” he says, “Do you wanna go outside? Get some air and more space?”
It’s like he read your mind. “Yeah, sure.”
You tap Taehyung on the shoulder to get his attention from Jimin.
“I’m going outside, I’ll text you if I can’t find you again.”
He nods slowly, “I’ll be right here babe,” he sends you a wink before turning back around.
Jungkook’s eyes lay on Taehyung’s back a little longer than you would like. What’s he thinking right now? Without any warning, Jungkook grabs your hand gently and starts pulling you away from the crowded bar. You aren’t exactly sober right now and you can only hope that your hand isn’t sweating as much as you think it is. Jungkook leads you out to the deck that’s also crowded and loud, but leaves a lot more room to breathe.
You lean against the railing and Jungkook does the same across from you, just mere inches separating the two of you.
“Are you here with just Taehyung?” He asks you taking a sip of his beer. You follow suit. Thank god he ordered Michelob—a man with taste.
You nod, “Yeah… he wanted to go out more than I did but, here we are,” you try to make a joke at your drunkeness but fail miserably. Jungkook gives you a short lived smile.
“So… are you two like, together?” Jungkook says his words slowly, not wanting to say or imply the wrong thing. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head after he asks his question.
You start to laugh, having to cover your mouth so you don’t cackle loud enough to draw attention. Jungkook looks confused before you say—
“Taehyung’s gay,” you explain after your laughter dies down, “His partner is the bartender Jimin.”
Jungkook’s face falls and his doe eyes bulge out of his head. “Holy shit I didn’t know, I didn’t mean—“
“Jungkook it’s fine,” you wave him off, “You’re not the first person to ever ask if Tae and I are a thing. As much as I wish the universe was that nice to me to give me a man like Taehyung but no,” you smile although deep down it does hurt. You grew up with Taehyung hoping he would be your soulmate and when Jimin’s name appeared on the inside of his pinky, that dream bursted real fast.
“What about you?” You ask him. Now’s your chance. It’s got to be the alcohol that’s making this conversation easy as cake because normally, talk of this nature would not be spoken in public with this many people around.
Jungkook rolls his tongue in his cheek and you swear your heart skips a beat. He starts to shake his head, “No I just got out of a relationship.”
“Oh,” your face falls. So was he with a girlfriend at dinner a few weeks back?
“Yeah I guess the universe hates me too,” he says nonchalantly and the air suddenly feels thick with tension. So he didn’t have a soulmate? Nor did you? What were the odds?
“I hate to sound weird or creepy but,” you pause, unsure if you wanted to ask but internally you say fuck it. “I saw you a few weeks ago at the Thai place downtown with a girl, so that’s why I asked.”
Jungkook’s eyes are hard to read as he gulps his beer. You’re not sure he’s that drunk but if he is, he’s great at hiding it.
“Yeah… that was her,” he nods, “But like I said the universe is cruel and decide to give her a name after a couple months of dating,” he scoffs and almost seems angry—which I guess he has a right to be.
“Oh shit,” you mumble, “I’m sorry,” you offer.
He shakes his head, “It’s fine, what can I do about it now you know?”
You nod slowly, “Look forward to the future? Who knows what might happen.”
“You’re right,” he smiles tenderly, “To the future?” He raises his bottle.
“To the future,” you smile clinking the glass together.
“So who are you here with?” You ask him.
“Just my roommates, Yugyeom and Mingyu,” he explains while licking his lips and your heart skips a beat again.
“You don’t strike me as the type that gets out much you know,” you push a finger into his chest, narrowing your eyesight. 1 to 10 on the drunk scale? An 8 or 9 at the moment.
“Why’s that?” He amuses.
“Jeon, you barely spoke to me the first two weeks of class. I thought you were fucking mute.”
He suddenly steps closer to you and it forces you to drop your finger.
“I’m shy okay?” He says with a pout. “I’m good now though? Right?” You swear his eyes are like a damn puppy dog looking at you like that. Your throat goes dry before you nod.
“For the most part I guess,” you offer weakly batting your eyelashes at him. You glance down his body quickly and notice the way his light blue jeans hug his tiny waist and thick thighs deliciously. Jesus fucking Christ.
“What this all about?” you point to his camera that’s dangling between his pecs. You needed to get your mind back to PG and fast.
He smiles lightly, “My hobby,” he says simply, “I like to take pictures for memories sake.”
“Memories sake,” you repeat, “So do you take it with you everywhere then?”
“Only if I think something interesting might happen that needs to be captured,” he shrugs. God he was so attractive and the longer you stared at him, the faster you were falling down a hole.
“What have you captured tonight then?”
“Nothing much really,” he glances down your front quickly and he thinks you don’t notice until you smirk at him.
“Take a picture of me,” you tilt your head with a smile, “I’m a treasure that should be captured, don’t ya think?” the alcohol was getting to you bad. When Jungkook laughs at you, you swear you saw two faces and you knew you needed to sober the fuck up.
“Alright, fine,” he says, stepping away from you to adjust his lens for the lighting. You lean onto the railing with you elbow, giving him a smile when you look towards his camera. He snaps the picture twice and the flash momentarily blinds you. He looks back at his view finder and you step to him to see it.
“See, a treasure,” you say.
He nods slowly before looking down at you, “Definitely.”
You feel yourself stepping closer to him, leaning up to get a full view of his face. You bite your lip as he leans down, your noses brushing together before you step back.
“Wait… so you don’t have a soulmate?” You keep your voice low and hesitant.
He shakes his head, “No,” he says, “See.” He shows his wrists and in between his fingers and nothing. You do the same for him, moving your bracelets and watch back. He gives you a small smirk before leaning down to close the gap between the two of you. You inhale his clean scent as you push up on your toes to deepen the kiss. With your hand that isn’t occupied you bring it to the side of his face to caress his skin. His lips are so fucking soft and you whine as he pulls away.
“I would ask you to go home with me but I think you’re too drunk,” he says honestly and you furrow your eyebrows at him with a sad pout.
“Hey I’m fine,” you defend yourself.
“I just don’t want you to think I’m that type of guy,” he says, “I’m pretty far from that.”
His words are sweet and considerate and you’re not sure any guy you have met that would be in this position to not jump straight into your pants. As much as you wouldn’t mind Jungkook to do that—you could see where he was coming from. Besides, you were really drunk and really tired so you probably wouldn’t even get off which would defeat the purpose of getting laid.
“Jungkook I know, I can see that,” you tell him before you bite your lip again, “But I am a great cuddlier if that has any weight?”
A large smile falls on his lips and his nose scrunches up from giggling. “Alright, you’re the big spoon though,” he deadpans.
You roll your eyes, “We’ll see about that.” Jungkook smirks before grabbing your hand for both of you to close out your tabs and head to his place.
You wake up the next morning in an unfamiliar, but quite comfortable bed. You blink your eyes slowly to let light in and you stretch your feet our from your fetal position. Once your vision focuses you see that you’re alone underneath a grey duvet and you nearly freak out until you quickly remember your previous evening.
You had got to Jungkook’s place around 12:30 AM and aside from light making out, nothing extreme happened between you two as Jungkook insisted on being sober before going there. He obviously lost the argument about who was going to be the big and little spoon as you both fell asleep comfortably with his arms around your front. Speaking of—where was he?
You push the covers from your body and see you’re dressed in an oversized t-shirt, your clothes neatly folded on his dresser. You memory is slightly fuzzy, unsure if you changed your clothes yourself or if Jungkook dressed you. Heat rushes to you face at the thought. Damn, you hoped you hadn’t seemed desperate but when you were drunk—that tended to happen. Although not as much anymore as random hookups slowed down the older you got as most people were linking up with their destined lovers.
Fuck—you think, you had nearly forgotten perhaps the biggest detail of last night. Jungkook didn’t have a soulmate. The thought made you giddy on the inside. Maybe he was just as fucked up as you were.
You’re about to leave Jungkook’s room until he suddenly appears in the doorway.
“Oh, hey I was just coming to see if you were up,” he gives you a soft smile and you have to scramble your eyes away from his heavily built chest and torso. You find that he has tattoos all the way up his knuckles to his shoulder. Fuck.
“I just woke up,” you mumble stepping towards the door.
“I made some breakfast,” he says reaching towards your hand gently, “I have some medicine too if you’re hungover.”
You smile at him as he pulls you to him to walk you down the short hallway to his kitchen. It smelt of bacon, eggs, and toast—just what you needed.
“Thanks,” you say gratefully as you take a seat on one of his barstools. He slides a plate over to you as well as a bottle of Advil. “You already ate?” You ask him as you begin to dive into the food that will surely settle your rumbling stomach.
“Sorry,” he laughs, “I woke up awhile ago and went for a run so I had to eat.”
You swat your hand not caring, “It’s fine—wait, what time is it?” Your eyes bulge.
He looks at his silver watch, “Almost noon,” he says, his eyes not looking at tired as he probably is.
“Noon?!” You say with a mouthful of bread, “What the hell I never this sleep this late…” you say after swallowing.
“You drank a lot last night Y/N,” he laughs at you and you give him your middle finger. He rests on his hands across from you in the kitchen and you can’t help but notice the veins in his arms. Was the universe really being this good to you? After all this time, giving you access to someone who is this fine and who doesn’t have a partner? You almost couldn’t believe it.
“Sorry if I was annoying, or needy, or anything like that,” you say somewhat embarrassed that Jungkook had to deal with you even though neither of you know each other that well.
His eyes soften, “It’s fine. You were funny.”  
You’ve devoured your plate of food and you hop down from the barstool to clean your plate. Since he cooked, the least you could was put away your mess.
“Oh I’m hilarious,” you give him a snide look before you bump him with your hip to scoot him over so you can wash your plate. He obliges whilst watching your every move. Jungkook seeing you in one of his favorite t-shirts is driving him delirious.
“But seriously though,” your voice cuts his inappropriate train of thought, “If I said anything incriminating, don’t tell anyone,” you give him a side look as you dry your plate. Jungkook laughs before a smirk appears on his face.
“I quite enjoyed your rambling,” he steps closer to you as you turn to look up at him. “It was very… what’s the word… suggestive,” he looks off as if he’s running deep thoughts.
You roll your eyes—yup, definitely horny and needy words were said. Feeling somewhat brave—maybe it was because you weren’t really hungover and the fact that Jungkook is standing there like that in front of you—you step towards him so your chests are touching.
“Maybe you should remind me what I said one day then?” You whisper only so he can hear. He chuckles through his nose before placing one of his hands on your back to pull you flush against him.
“Why not right now?” He says, his nose dipping to touch yours. His eyes are soft but carry a darkness to them you can’t quite read. You give him a small nod before you move your head to place your lips on his. Your mouths mold together like putty slowly before he slips his tongue into your mouth to tease you.  
You pull away quickly, “Wait, don’t you have roommates?” You whisper again looking around the quiet apartment. You noticed how clean it was to be housed by 3 men in their early twenties.
“They’re asleep,” he says, caressing your lower back, his hand begging to go to your ass but he restrains himself. “So you’ll have to be quiet, unlike last night,” he raises an eyebrow at you.
“Challenge accepted,” you grab his face to pull him back down to you to connect your lips once more.
His hands grapple your waist desperately to pull you flush against him. He smells like laundry and cotton, the scent driving you mad. As Jungkook realizes that the two of you are still in his kitchen and Yugyeom or Mingyu could easily come out of their rooms any moment, he pulls away from you and you follow him back into his room. He wastes no time shutting his door and pushing you against it.
You felt yourself growing dizzier by the second as he continued to kiss you with a gentle force that you’ve never experienced before. He was probably the best kisser you’ve ever kissed.  You could tell he wanted to touch you and you wanted him to touch you so you began to trace your hands up his sculpted back and pushing your hips out towards him.
Jungkook now having your permission, one of his hands trail up your thigh to push his t-shirt away from your backside, his large hand massaging the skin carefully and calculated. Suddenly you found his lips on your neck as he pushes your body further into his door.
“Jungkook,” you groaned quietly as he nipped at the sensitive skin. He pulls your thigh up against his leg and you nearly let out a moan when you feel his hardening cock press into your center.
“Fuck,” you breathe out as you let out an experimental roll of your hips against his. Jungkook pulls back with a short chuckle before kissing your lips gently again.
“Quiet,” he laughs again and you push his chest away from yours to get him to sit on the edge of his bed. You crawl onto his lap, straddling his tiny waist and thick thighs. You continued to kiss like no tomorrow before you placed your palm over his center.
“Shit,” he groans into your mouth as you palm him slowly and torturously. “Y/N, wait, are you sure?”  
You pull your hand back and stare down at him with hazy eyes. You nod frantically, “Yes, are you?”
“God yes,” he breathes out and in one smooth motion, he flips you two over with him standing in between your legs. He begins to take his shirt from your body and you happily help him and his eyes immediately go to your breasts, your nipples taut for him.
He kisses you again before kissing down your neck and then down over your boobs, his tongue swirling and his teeth nipping at all the right places. Jungkook finds himself on his knees, right in front of where you need each other most. He spreads your legs a little more before he goes right in to kiss your center over your underwear. Your head falls back as you rest on your hands watching him bite his lip in excitement. You’d never had a guy go down on your the first hookup—you thought you could be in love right now.
His brown eyes glance at you briefly before you nod for him to make sure what he was going was okay. He fingers pull at your underwear and you lift your hips to help him drag the material down your legs. He grabs your hips and pulls your towards him, his mouth going straight to work on you.
You shut your eyes at the feeling unable to keep them open as he laps up and down your slit. He kisses you with hunger and when he finds your clit, the moan that escapes your mouth is loud and embarrassing.
“Oh god, Jungkook,” he smirks against your pussy before continuing to lap at your sensitive bud, his fingers now teasing your entrance.
He slips in one finger, pumping it slowly before entering a second—stretching you just how you need. You fall back on your elbows and your toes curl when you feel an orgasm close approaching.
“Fuck, fuck,” your hips raise as he focuses on your clit, his eyes never leaving your face. He can tell you’re about to come and he’d be damned if he didn’t bring you there. Two more kitten licks send you over the edge and you climax hard having to bite your lip so you don’t make much noise.
Jungkook licks his lips as he comes back to you to kiss you. You welcome him with open arms and you pull him on top of you. You needed him now and the issue in his pants showed he wanted you just as much. You help him push down his sweats and boxers and when you first get sight of his dick, your mouth nearly drops. Okay—the universe was definitely helping you out right now.
You reach down between you, wrapping your hands around his girth to fully harden him. He sucks in a deep breath when you pull and tug at his sensitive skin. You take his pre cum on your thumb and rub it around to make the slip easier. His forehead falls against your shoulder as you continue to jerk him off. His breathing increases as each pull comes from your hand and he’ quickly pushing your hand away.
“I wanna be inside you baby,” he says and it sends a shockwave through your core.
Jungkook finds a condom from his side table and rolls it on quickly. He positions himself between you, his nose brushing against yours as he pecks your lips.
“Ready?” He asks you as he guides his tip into you. Both of your mouths fall agape, a small whine coming from Jungkook’s throat as he pushes deeper into you. “Fuck—Y/N, you’re so tight.”
You lift your hips to help him get as deep as possible and when he bottoms out, you’re unsure if you’ve ever felt this full your entire life. His forehead falls against your shoulder once more and he kisses your exposed skin gently as he starts to slowly thrust in and out of you.
He feels more than amazing and your whole body feels on fire.
“Jungkook,” you breathe out as you wrap your legs around his back, “Faster, please.” You don’t care about sounding desperate.
He sits up on his elbows and obeys, snapping his hips against you harder and quicker. You hold onto his cheeks, your fingertips pulling at his hair and neither of you can be quiet now.
“Shit,” he marvels at the way he disappears inside of you, your cunt squeezing around him so he won’t leave.
“Jungkook—ah,” he hits your deepest spot in you and he sticks his thumb in your mouth to bite down on to shut you up. His other fingers grip the side of your neck and you feel like you could pass out from his ministrations.
“I’m not gonna last much longer,” he whispers in your ear and you nod pulling his face down to you, snapping your hips to meet up with his. You found yourself clenching around his cock as Jungkook’s breaths get shakier and shakier. “Fuck Y/N.”
“Don’t stop,” you managed to get out as he hammered you into his mattress, hitting your g-spot perfectly—another orgasm quickly coming into your system. Jungkook’s face was contorted and tortured as he chased his high deep inside of you. “Come on Jungkook,” you whisper beside his ear and he lifts his head up, crashing his lips onto yours.
Between your desperate attempts to be quiet and Jungkook’s relentless pace, you come again around his cock fast and hard, pulsating around him in spurts.
“Ah—fuck,” Jungkook’s hips ram into yours deeply as he finally finds his release. He collapses on top of your frame, his elbows the only thing holding him up. He pulls himself out of you a moment later, but he doesn’t move his body from above you.
Both of you are breathing heavy, it being the only sound radiating in the room. You caress  the right side of his face, pushing his bangs away from his forehead. He leans into your touch with a small smile before kissing your wrist gently. He then rolls his body from yours, discarding of his condom quickly.
You both turn to each other as Jungkook throws an arm lazily around your waist.
“Are you even real?” His deep voice suddenly says with his eyes closed. You give him a sheepish smile as he opens his eyes.
“The universe is fucking funny huh?” You say and Jungkook laughs deep within his chest.
“Very funny,” he mumbles before watching your face intently.
“Now what?” You ask obliviously. Sure, you had your hookups on and off before but with Jungkook—something felt different—in a good way. Like he wasn’t supposed to be a hookup—but something more.
He shrugs, “Whatever you wanna be.”
You bite your lip hesitating before saying, “I know you just got out of a relationship so I don’t want you to feel rushed or anything.”
“It’s fine Y/N,” he gives you a small smile, “I’m fine with whatever you’re fine with. As long as you don’t break my heart.”
You laugh, swatting at his chest playfully, “You mean as long as you don’t break my heart.”
He smirks, “Deal.”
You meet with Namjoon and Jungkook the following week to begin working on your project. You three decided on meeting in the library after all of your classes were over for the day to keep it convenient. You and Jungkook finished around the same time and ended up grabbing some food before heading out to the library. It had not been that long since you and Jungkook hooked up and you two began to text and Snapchat each other everyday. Your friendship with Jungkook hadn’t changed in any way as you two didn’t officially have a label yet, but now one look at him sent you weak to the knees.  
“You guys seriously couldn’t wait for me to get food?!” Namjoon shows up on the second floor of the library around 6:25 PM. You and Jungkook laugh at him as he sits down. He looks exhausted.
“Rough day?” You ask him as he sits down from across from you and Jungkook.
He lets out a deep sigh, “Have you ever amputated a finger before?”
You and Jungkook give each other an odd glance before scrunching your nose, “No, what the fuck?” Jungkook mutters.
Namjoon gives you a straight smile, “Well how about 4 fingers? That was my day summed up and I still think I’m queasy,” he shakes his head slowly.
You furrow your eyebrows at him, “Joon, don’t you wanna be a doctor?”
“Family medicine, not surgery or anything gross like that,” he explains and that makes much more sense—though I’m sure Namjoon knows medical school has a lot more than family medicine waiting for him.
“Gotcha,” you pull up the documents you have saved for your research on your computer. Under the table, Jungkook nudges your knee with his and you have to fight the urge to smile.
Namjoon watches, the two of you oblivious.
“You look happy,” he says. Jungkook looks up from his phone and you from your screen.
“Who?” You and Jungkook same at the same time.
Namjoon narrows his eyes, “Both of you… strange,” he licks his lips pondering on his words.
You glance at Jungkook before turning back to your screen, not wanting to be caught in his stare.
“Am I not allowed to be in a good mood?” Jungkook laughs sarcastically.
You bite your lip trying to suppress your smile. Sure, you and Jungkook had hooked up once or twice now and you two were slowly getting to know each other more everyday—but you swore the butterflies in your stomach told you something was special about him.
“I mean, you’re just always so quiet… and—hey why are you laughing?” Namjoon looks at you with a serious expression.
“I’m not laughing,” you say, biting the inside of your cheek.
“Yeah Y/N, quit laughing,” Jungkook says, nudging your leg under the table again.
“God I’m gonna get queasy again,” Namjoon’s face contorts, his eyes darting between the two of you, “Since when do you two flirt with each other? In front of me?”
Once again, you keep your eyes away from Jungkook, “We’re not flirting,” you say monotonously.
Namjoon looks at Jungkook since you refuse to meet anyone’s gaze. Namjoon raises his  eyebrows at his friend curiously, an unspoken language going between them. Jungkook smirks before giving you one last glance before he says—
“Y/N and I hooked up.”
Your eyes widen instantly at Jungkook’s words and you whip your head to turn towards him.
“Jungkook what the fuck! I thought we weren’t gonna tell anyone!” Your words give away to Namjoon that Jungkook wasn’t bluffing.
Jungkook’s eyes soften looking at you, “Come on, his crazy ass was onto us anyways,” he motions towards Namjoon.
“Yeah, uh huh. I knew something was off when Jungkook’s ears kept going red every time he looked at you,” Namjoon slowly starts to smile, “How disgusting is that.”
You flip him off, “Well, don’t tell anyone.”  
“So,” Namjoon pauses, “You guys aren’t…?” He trails his question off and both of you know what he wants to say. Soulmates.
Slowly, you both shake your head. Namjoon is slightly confused himself. Normally by 18 years old people have their other half assigned to them—him included. His partner’s name appeared on the inside of his palm when he was 15. But you and Jungkook were almost 22?
“Do you guys have one? That you just haven’t met yet?” Namjoon keeps his question low.
Again, you both shake your heads. Wow, Namjoon thinks. An idea suddenly pops into his head.
“Wait so—I have an idea,” Namjoon’s eyes light up.
“Oh god,” Jungkook mumbles.
“So if you guys don’t have partners and you two keep… doing it,” he pauses with a laugh, “Couldn’t we use your experience in our project?”
It takes a few moments for Namjoon’s words to register as your mouth falls agape. Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose, unsure if he heard Namjoon correctly.
“Hyung, didn’t you just hear her say not to tell anyone?” Jungkook deadpans.
“I mean we don’t have to specify names,” Namjoon quickly elaborates, “I mean you guys did some research right? You’ve read all the horrible stuff that happens to people who go against nature.”
Yeah, you did read about that stuff and it absolutely terrified you. But even after hooking up with Jungkook and other suitors in your life—nothing bad had happened to you, so if anything, this research exists to only frighten people.
“Namjoon, I get what you’re saying but—I don’t know, we might not even hook up again,” you laugh waving your hand off.
“Wait, why not?” Jungkook’s voice suddenly goes to a higher pitch, his eyes looking at you quickly. Namjoon chuckles at the exchange. Namjoon had known Jungkook a long time and he’s never seen him want this much validation from a female—ever.
“I mean,” you pause looking at the dark haired boy beside you, “I didn’t know if—“
“Yeah yeah, work out this shit later,” Namjoon interrupts, “But I don’t know, just something to keep in mind over the rest of the semester.”
With that, the conversation ended and the three of you managed to begin typing up your report. Occasionally, you would bump Jungkook’s knee here and there just to see his reaction. He would smile although not sparing a glance at you. By the end of your study session, all three of you got a good start on the project and Jungkook’s hand rested on your thigh the whole night and you knew it didn’t belong anywhere else.
Weeks later, yours and Jungkook’s relationship became slightly more complicated. While you two managed to stay cordial in class and hide whatever the hell was going on between you two—once you two were alone, all bets were fucking off. Jungkook would come to your place or you would go to his when his roommates were out and he would fuck you into the mattress until you were nearly screaming. It was good—he was good—and quickly you felt yourself starting to catch feelings for him. You knew that was dangerous territory considering a name might pop up on your body any day, so as hard as it was, you repressed your feelings for him. You were unsure of how Jungkook felt. As better as he was at talking now and he did trust you, he wasn’t one for deep talk unless he had a few glasses of wine in his system. You were fine with that though, knowing it was probably for the better.
You had thought everything was going good—Jungkook, classes, exams, your project, keeping up with Taehyung and Jimin—until it all came crashing down one afternoon at your apartment.
It was a Friday afternoon and you had invited Jungkook over to… well… get your brains fucked out. You like to think you are a smart girl but today, you were being a grade ass dumbass because you had completely forgotten about your lunch date with Taehyung and Jimin.
Normally, Taehyung wouldn’t have cared if you had missed one day with him but as your best friend of years and years—he noticed something had been off with you lately. Slightly more… flakey than normal. Jimin noticed it too. So when Taehyung found himself outside of your apartment that Friday afternoon, what he saw—shook him to his core.
You and Jungkook had just gotten out of the shower after going at it like bunnies for a good hour. He couldn’t keep his hands off of you, placing his lips around yours and down your neck, leaving barely there marks behind of your ears.
“Jungkook—stop,” you push his bare chest away as you heard someone knocking on your door. He gives you a shit-eating grin, staying back in the hallway as you go to the door, holding the towel up around your body tight.
You open the door and your face fell instantly. Fuck.
“Taehyung? Jimin?” Your voice shakes, “W-what are you doing here?”
Without any warning Taehyung and Jimin step into your apartment and you begin to panic.
“What the hell Y/N, you’ve bailed on us without explanation three times now!” Taehyung says dramatically, “I mean damn I know Jimin and I are disgusting sometimes but the least you can do is give a heads—what’s that?” Taehyung’s eyes land on your neck and you step away from him, holding your towel closer to you.
“N-nothing,” you stutter. “I’m s-sorry I forgot about lunch, I’ve been really busy lately,” your excuse is lame, but you have nothing else.
“Busy?” Taehyung says eyeing you up and down, “I can see that.”
“Y/N hey where is—“ your eyes roll into the back of your head as Jungkook enters your living room at just the wrong time. No, he didn’t know it was Taehyung and Jimin, but it still doesn’t make you happy. Especially since he’s just wearing sweatpants, his hair wet like yours, compromising your secret.
“Whoa,” Jimin suddenly laughs looking at the scene. “This the quiet one?” He points over at Jungkook. Jungkook pouts—what are they talking about?—he thinks to himself.
“Holy shit Y/N what are you doing?” Taehyung doesn’t seem as enthusiastic. He looks over at Jungkook and you swear you see Taehyung salivate inside his mouth, “I mean I get why you’re doing it but, c’mon isn’t this risky?”
“I know you’re probably confused,” you bite your lip nervously. “I shouldn’t have kept this from you.”
“Yeah no shit,” he genuinely seems angry, an emotion not common to him. “We’re best friends Y/N.”
“Tae, c’mon it’s really none of our business,” Jimin steps in trying to help you out.
“It is too my business when he could potentially hurt her,” Taehyung crosses his arms. Jungkook seems taken aback by his comment and he steps towards you from behind.
“I mean I like her,” Jungkook’s voice quickly speaks up, startling you from behind. You turn your body to look at him, his eyes meeting yours.
“You do?” Your voice comes out in a squeak, a smile spreading on your face like a wildfire.
“You do?” Taehyung asks this time, looking between you two. He looks at his partner Jimin who specializes in this stuff. Jimin nods at Taehyung for reassurance.
“Yeah, a lot actually,” Jungkook steps closer to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder to pull you close to his chest. You try to hide your embarrassingly huge smile.
Taehyung’s body visibly falters, his eyes going back to his usual soft gaze. Taehyung knew you deserved happiness and if Jungkook made you happy—who was he to stop that?
“I’m sorry again for keeping this from you, it’s just we didn’t want…”
“No I get it,” he nods, “But don’t do that shit again,” he gives you a smile. As warm as Jungkook’s embrace is, you step away and give yourself to Taehyung’s arms.
“You’re the best,” you mumble into his chest.
“Bitch, I know,” his chest rumbles against yours. Jungkook watches you and Taehyung embrace, his heart swelling. Goddamn—maybe he is in a little too deep. At this point, he doesn’t care though. If anything, he wants to make you happy and he’d be damned to let the universe stop that.
It was officially Halloween. Nearly three months after you and Jungkook first crossed paths and met, the two of you were also “official”. Neither of you can recall the exact date it happened, but it was not long after Taehyung and Jimin busted you two. You and Jungkook had decided to not tell that many people outside of your inner circle—neither of you wanting to deal with the glares and questions. You didn’t have a name attached on your body and he didn’t either, so what were you guys doing wrong? Nothing. He was yours and you were his and you haven’t been this happy in a long time.
Jungkook, though his Virgo nature being quite selfish sometimes, was always sweet, caring, checking in on you, surprising you with flowers, genuine, and opened up some of his deepest fears to you. You had been on cloud nine for months all because of him. You had probably thanked Namjoon at least six different occasions for dragging you over to meet them way back when. Namjoon was happy for you two—though being as quizzical as he was—he had his concerns, though he never outright voiced them.
Jimin being how he was, had his concerns too. Everyone around you and Jungkook saw how you two were infatuated around each other. Jimin had never seen two people who weren’t soulmates have the connection you two had. It worried him for many reasons, which is why he’s voicing them to Taehyung right now.
“Babe, I don’t know,” Jimin says as him and Taehyung somehow got on the topic of you and Jungkook. “Don’t you think they’re moving really fast?” He questions.
Taehyung looks at his partner, a confused expression crossing his features, “Why do you say that? As long as Y/N is happy, I don’t really care who dicks her down at night, soulmate or not.”
Jimin lets out a laugh before shaking his head, “I mean, in all my case studies I’ve never seen two people like that.”
Taehyung deadpans his boyfriend, “Jimin, you of all people should know that’s not true.”
Jimin nods, immediately understanding where he is coming from. “I know. I’m just worried one of them will get hurt. A name is destined to show up on them eventually.”
Taehyung grinds his teeth, “Y/N has never been one to feed into that stuff so I’m not sure she would care anyways.”
“But she should Tae,” Jimin says, “Jungkook too. I mean there’s serious repercussions to messing with nature.”
“Well they’re fine now, aren’t they?” by Taehyung’s response—Jimin isn’t even sure if he full listening to him. Taehyung being good with numbers and business, he doesn’t fully grasp the concepts of soulmates like Jimin does. For Jimin—it’s his studies, his passion, his life.
“Yeah but—“ Jimin gets cut off by a harsh knock on his apartment door.
“They’re here,” Taehyung smiles walking over to get the door, “Don’t say anything sketch okay?” he warns Jimin as he opens the door.
You nearly fall on your ass as Taehyung opens the door. Jungkook pulls you back with a laugh as you walk into Jimin’s apartment.
“Tae! Chim!” You smile widely, throwing your arms around Taehyung’s neck tightly. You stumble in your heels and Taehyung’s hands steady you, a rumble in his chest.
“Jesus Y/N. How much have you drank already?” He exasperates, glancing over at Jungkook.
“I told her to slow down,” Jungkook puts his hands up in defense. You giggle letting go of your friend to quickly hug Jimin too. “She doesn’t listen to me,” he adds with a laugh.
“I’m fine guys,” you say glancing at Taehyung’s and Jimin’s costumes.”Really? Pirates?”  
“Hey!” Taehyung defends, “How much more cliché could you two get? A doctor and a nurse?!”
You glance over at Jungkook in his scrubs and white coat and down your body. A slutty red and white nurse’s uniform complete with thigh highs hug your figure and you quite liked it, mainly because watching Jungkook shift uncomfortably every time he glanced at you made you feel accomplished.
“Hey, we look hot,” you point at Taehyung’s chest, stumbling backwards again. Jungkook decides to pull you to his side, not wanting you to fall on your ass for real this time.
“Come on babe, slow down,” Jungkook mumbles as he wraps his arms around your front, glancing down your cleavage from behind. You nudge his stomach with your elbow.
“I’m a big girl,” you pout, “So are we going or what?”
“Yeah, just waiting on the address,” Jimin smiles waving his phone in the air.
A few moments pass, chatter between the four of you ensues. You loved your little group. Taehyung and Jimin welcomed Jungkook with open arms, the four of you going out on double dates, grabbing coffee, watching movies, and studying all became weekly occurrences. You were always so scared to dive into another relationship given your age and circumstance, but you swore that someway and somehow—you and Jungkook were meant to be together.
Twenty minutes later, the four of you step out of your Uber and make your way towards the new bar that opened near your campus. It was opening weekend and a Halloween party was obviously necessary. You held onto Jungkook’s hand tightly as you made your way inside the crowded area. You immediately aimed your way to the bar, ordering a vodka-soda, Jungkook ordering some soju.
“Don’t blackout on me now,” Jungkook raises an eyebrow at you, watching the way you take a huge sip of your drink.
“I said I’m a big girl,” you stand your ground, “I bet I can put away twice as many drinks as you.”
“Don’t listen to her Jungkook,” Taehyung says grabbing his own mixed drink, “She likes to spit nonsense when she’s drunk.”
“Oh trust me, I know,” he smirks at you and roll your eyes at him. Jungkook leans down and you peck his lips lightly—the same butterflies swirling in your stomach all these months later. Jimin watches the interaction closely. He knows exactly how you and Jungkook feels, but he still can’t shake the uneasiness deep in his gut.
“Come on, let’s dance,” you smile up at your boyfriend tugging on his arm. The music was loud and good, you were not just going to stand around. Jungkook nods quickly as you finish your drink, leaving Taehyung and Jimin behind at the bar.
Your heels made you more even with Jungkook’s height tonight as you threw your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer to you. His hands grip you waist tightly, wanting every guy here to know that you were his. For some reason, for whatever fucking reason—Jungkook felt inclined to protect you. As you sing whatever song was playing loudly, Jungkook found himself smiling and laughing at you. His chest twisted and his heart thumped. He still pinched himself when he woke up in the mornings. How did he get so lucky in this fucked world of destiny? If you weren’t meant for him, then who was?
You turn around pushing your back to his front. He holds you close as you both sway to the music as if it’s only you and him against the world. He smiles into your neck, kissing your delicate skin once in awhile. He spins you out from him and spins you back in quickly, your mind going dizzy.
“Hey careful,” you whine as you turn to him once again, “I’m drunk you know.”
“I thought you were a big girl,” he teases you and you narrow your eyes at him.
“Maybe not when I’m drunk,” you yell-whisper into his ear. He laughs, pulling you into a kiss. To any wondering eye, it would look as if you two were soulmates among other destined couples. Maybe that was the point? To fake it and then it becomes real?
Your heart swells at the thought. Jungkook studies your face intently, knowing that uttering his next words could be real dangerous but when you flash your gorgeous smile at him—he knows he has to say it.
“Wanna know a secret?” He asks.
“I love you,” the words spill from his mouth. Your movements stop and you swear your drunkeness subsides momentarily.
“W-what?” You stutter. Did you hear him correctly?
“I know we’re drunk and this isn’t the best time but yeah,” he nods, “I love you Y/N.”
You head spins and you heart drops into your stomach. A smile creeps up onto your face.
“Really?” you ask, your eyes similar to those of a puppy. Jungkook nods, biting his lip. Will you say it back? “Thank fucking god, I thought I was the only one,” you say dramatically.
He furrows his eyebrows, chuckling, “Really?”
“Jeon Jungkook I fucking love you too,” you say, “I was waiting on you to say it.”
Once again he laughs, “Babe you can’t wait on stuff, you gotta go after what you want.”
“Well I already have you, don’t I?” You point out, “Come on, let’s go home.”
“Why? We’ve have one drink babe,” he says as you’re tugging on his hand.
“I know,” you look at him with a devilish smirk, “But I wanna fuck you and I’m not doing that in this bar.”
Jungkook’s face falls, blood rushing to his cock. “Fair enough.”
November is cold, which means December is going to be even colder. The days get shorter and your nights get longer as you try to prepare for finals in the next few weeks. Currently you’re bundled in two layers of clothing in the back of the library with Namjoon, adding the finishing touches on your final project that’s also due soon. Jungkook had to attend a seminar for one of his classes this evening which is why he’s MIA.
“Lucky shit,” Namjoon remarks when you explain your boyfriend’s absence. It was still strange to refer to him as your boyfriend.
“Would you honestly want to be lectured about how building muscles in the key to life right now?” You raise an eyebrow at him pointedly. Jungkook could even admit as a sports medicine major some of the people and things he learns about is absolute horseshit.
Namjoon laughs, “Touche.”
You’re working on the presentation aspect of you project while Namjoon is typing away at the research paper. As much as you despised the soulmate hoopla, reading about this stuff was very interesting. You had read how soulmates are apparently linked and of course, there is truly only one person meant for you. You rolled your eyes at these statements. If that was true, then why have you still not been given a name? There were so many questions that were just unanswerable that you couldn’t get over. Sure, the soulmate thing worked for some you couldn’t lie about that. At the end of the day though, perhaps you were one of the lucky ones—not bound by a name and given free reign over who is in the same spot as you.
“How’s everything going with you two by the way?” Namjoon asks curiously. His eyes haven’t left his computer screen so you oppose looking back at him when you answer.
“Good,” you smile slightly, “It’s still weird to think that we’re together,” you laugh at your statement.
He smiles to himself, “Weird for you? How about weird for me? I introduced the two of you being Jungkook is shy twat.”
“I know, I know,” you reach across the table and squeeze Namjoon’s hand playfully, “Which is why I’ve thanked you how many times now?”
“Yeah yeah, you only. Jungkook hasn’t given me his thanks yet.”
“I wouldn’t expect him too.”
“Trust me, I’m not,” he smiles with another stifled laugh as you two try to keep quiet. “So nothing’s really happened between you two?”
He’s referring to your project which you hastily agreed on letting yours and Jungkook’s “experience” to be first hand research.
You shake your head, “No. By the fifth time we had sex I was expecting to “feel excruciating pain deep within my chest as the universe tries to pull me away” him,” you quote one of the claims made by a well-known and well respected researcher. It was almost comical—how could anyone believe this stuff?
“Okay, TMI,” he puts his hands up.
“Hey this was your idea,” you remind him.
“It’s just wild to me,” he says, “I mean we grow up thinking there’s someone out there only meant for us and you and Jungkook… just don’t have one?” He looks off in the distance and you’re not sure if you should be offended by his statement—though Namjoon is a realist and he’s very logical so everything he’s saying is true.
“We have each other,” you shrug, “That’s good enough for me. I love him for who he is,” you almost feel heat coming to your face but you push it down.
“That’s how I feel about Kaya,” he almost smiles.
You look at him curiously—Namjoon hardly ever speaks of his soulmate. They’ve been together for a long time but she goes to university a couple hours from here so they don’t get to see each other as often as they would like.
“Can I see?” You whisper. He furrows his eyebrows, confused. “Your mark, I mean.”
Namjoon looks down at his left hand before nodding, opening his palm for you. In faint white writing, almost skin color—is the name Kaya in beautiful cursive. It makes your heart strings feel heavy for a moment. You knew you didn’t need a name to find love but you had always been curious about what it would be like to dawn one.
“Did it hurt? When it showed up?”
He shakes his head, “Not really, just kind like a little sting.”
“Why do you think I don’t have one? And Jungkook too?”
Your question catches him off guard. Honestly if anyone could answer this question, it was Park Jimin but he obviously wasn’t here. Namjoon was smart though—maybe he had good theories.
“I honestly don’t know,” he says softly, “I feel all the research of this stuff only applies for people who have one.”
You snort, “Right.”
“I mean you can never say never though,” he shakes his head, “Just because society has said before eighteen, that could be bullshit for all we know. You saw how in some of these articles, some names showed up in people’s early and mid-twenties too.”
“Yeah… and then what?”
“What do you mean?” He asks.
“It’s just seems so unfair that I can see Jungkook in my life after college and that could be taken away so easily. Or I could be taken away from him… it’s just so fucked don’t you think?” You don’t even realize how shaky your tone is, but Namjoon picks it up.
“Are you worried about that?”
Your mouth goes dry, “I like to think he’s the one for me,” you say after a few seconds of silence.
He bites his lip, unsure of what to say next, “Well maybe he is,” he offers trying to lighten your mood.
You look down at your hands, inspecting your wrist and fingers carefully. Your stomach churns at your next thought.
“And what if he isn’t?” You glance back to find his eyes staring holes into you.
“Then it wasn’t meant to be. I’d like to think the universe isn’t wrong.”
You nod slowly taking in his words. Sure you and Jungkook had been official for awhile now and you hoped that this feeling with him would never end. You liked to think the universe isn’t wrong either and maybe that’s why you and Jungkook found each other—cause it was meant to be.
Yours and Namjoon’s conversation stuck with you the rest of the evening. Jungkook had picked you up from the library in his black Mercedes around 8 PM. Even though it was a Wednesday, you and Jungkook had been staying at each other’s places more often than not. With your only roommate being away in Europe for study abroad, it was nice having him stay with you.
Jungkook noticed something was bothering you as he drove back to your place as you didn’t say much to him. You gripped his hand tightly in yours but the way your eyes didn’t meet his— it worried him. He became even more worried when you didn’t want to eat dinner after he had picked up your favorite takeout. It was his treat to you since he was unable to come to the library tonight.
“I’m just not that hungry,” you said pushing around the Chinese food with your chopsticks. You were both sat on your couch, your feet up in his lap watching some romantic-comedy TV show—Jungkook’s choosing—not yours.
“You’re always hungry,” he says poking at your leg to try to get a smile from you. Nothing. He furrows his eyebrows at you though you don’t even notice it as you’re looking away from him.
“What’s up babe?” Jungkook’s question takes you out of your thoughts. Were you that obvious?
“Hm?” You glance at him, trying to play your emotions off.
“You’re just being so… quiet?” He says softly, setting down his plate on the coffee table. He shifts his body to your frame, a hand holding up his head on the back of the couch.
“I don’t know,” you mumble, “Just have a lot on my mind.”
“Y/N you can tell me anything you know,” he rubs the back of your calves. The motion alone relaxes you significantly and you still don’t know how someone has this affect over you.
You pause, unsure if you should voice your worries to him. Would they cause problems between you two if you said what you were actually thinking? Was Namjoon right? “It’s just Namjoon and I were talking tonight and—“
“What did he say to you?” Jungkook quickly interrupts with a harsh tone. As much as Jungkook loved Namjoon like a brother—he was too brash and sometimes that lead to hurt feelings.
“It’s nothing he said it just got me thinking,” you shake your head aimlessly, looking behind Jungkook’s head at the wall.  He doesn’t say anything wanting you to continue. “Don’t you worry about the future?”
Jungkook purses his lips, thinking deeply about your question before answering honestly.
“Everyday,” he says, “But I like to live for now, in the present… why are you asking?”
“What are we supposed to do if we’re separated, huh?” The words tumble from your mouth, your tone not the sweetest. You tense up in Jungkook’s hands and he notices your demeanor quickly changing.
“Why are you saying that Y/N?” His voice is confused and heavy.
“Because I fucking love you Jungkook and I don’t want you taken away from me, that’s why,” you let out a deep breath, pushing yourself up and off the couch. Jungkook watches you as you stand up and walk towards the kitchen. You’re clearly distressed about something. Slowly, he rises to his feet sauntering over to your frame that’s staring down at the sink.
“Y/N,” his voice is low behind you. Your knuckles are nearly white from gripping the side of the counter so hard. You felt tears pricking in your eyes that you had to force away. Jungkook wraps his arms around your front and you lean back into his frame.
He rests his head on your shoulder, “Baby I get it, okay? I know it’s scary not knowing what the hell is wrong with people like us—“
“That’s the problem Jungkook,” you say, “There’s something wrong with us and it’s fucked up. How do we know that this, us, is okay?”
“Listen I know you don’t believe in destiny and all that stuff but,” he pauses nuzzling into your neck, “But I do and I feel like if this, us—isn’t meant to be, then what is?”
You lean your head on his before you reluctantly turn your body around, your hands sliding behind his torso.
“How are you so sure?” You mutter meeting his gaze. His eyes are worried for you but still deep down, they have a light and wonder you’ve never fully understood.
He gives you a tiny smile, brushing his nose against yours, “Because I love you, okay? Like I’ve never loved anyone more before, I promise you, we’ll be fine. You will be fine.”
The weight from your shoulders is lifted as Jungkook’s words reassure you. He had such a hopeless romantic complex about him, you were sure he knew everything right to say to make you feel better. He was right—the odds of you two being this late in the game and meeting can’t be coincidental. He was yours and you were his—that’s all that mattered.
“Are you good now?” He raises his eyebrows at you and you nod against his forehead, leaning forward to peck his lips.
“Much better,” you then say. Jungkook chases his mouth with yours again before pulling away after a brief kiss.
“Good because I had something important to ask you anyways,” he says giving you some space.
Your eyes bulge, a worried look instantly spreading on your features, “You’re not asking me to marry you, are you? After what we just—“
He shakes his head with a laugh, “No, not right now at least,” he continues to laugh and your heart lurches at the thought. “But I was gonna ask if you wanted to come to Busan with me, for Christmas?”
You are taken aback by his question, your mouth parting unsure of what to say.
“Like go home with you?” He nods at your question, “And meet your family?” He nods again.
“I know we haven’t been together that long but I’d figure I would offer,” he shrugs.
“Do your parents know about us?”
“I mentioned someone to them on the phone the other day.”
“Do they know the full situation?” you ponder. You two weren’t soulmates and meeting parents was a huge step.
“No,” he says, “But that doesn’t mean we can’t fake it,” a smirk spreads on his lips.
“Jungkook, I don’t know if that’s the best idea.”
“None of my ideas are the best ideas let’s be real,” he chuckles, “And I’m not saying you have to go, but if you want to the offer is there.”
You bite your lip as your eyes meet. The stove light was shining on his face so his small scar was prominent. It would be nice you suppose, meeting his brother who gave him that scar and his parents too. You had never met any of your significant other’s parents—Jungkook really must believe in you two then.
“I’ll think about it,” you smile up at him, squeezing your arms tightly around his frame. He nods before leaning down, kissing you once again gently. Your night ends with you finally eating your food and Jungkook in your bed making you feel better than anyone ever has. It was perfect.
“And how, may I ask,” your professor’s voice is the first to ask a question when you are done speaking, “Did the three of you manage to maintain data regarding the intimacy of two people whose souls are not bound yet?”
Your eyes flicker over to Namjoon and Jungkook. You’re about to respond but Namjoon beats you to it.
“Professor Jung, we know it can seem like we made up part of our research but,” he pauses, “But we trust the individuals who relayed us this information in the past three months and out of respect for them… we ask for you not to probe too much.”
Your professor’s eyebrows raise at Namjoon’s comment. His eyes flicker between the three of you, unable to decipher Namjoon’s passive aggressiveness. You were thankful he decided to answer the question, because you’re sure that you would have been too nice about it. Why can’t this jackass just take the information you are presenting and shove it up his ass?  
“I see,” he breathes in deeply, “It just seems very hard for me to wrap my head around the argument that you’ve presented, when there’s so much research saying the opposite. The effects of intimacy is sacred for soul bonded people. Horrible illnesses and other things can happen to these people that go against nature.”
“It does seem that way professor,” you chime in, “But perhaps it’s time for new, more in-depth research to be done on this subject. These independent relationships may not work for everyone but in this case—it has.”
He chews on the end of his pen, “I agree wholeheartedly and though I still have my doubts about your research, I cannot deny the three of you have presented me with a topic that no one ever has before. The psychology behind soul-binding, sex, and relationships is amazing and endless… and isn’t the point of life to ask questions?” He seems to have lost somewhat focus on the three of you. What an idiot.  
“Exactly,” Jungkook nods sending you a quick wink. You chew on your bottom lip to avoid from grinning. “As they say, we learn something new everyday.”
“That you are correct Mr. Jeon,” he say points to your boyfriend. “Well, I think you three have presented a wonderful project and I look forward to reading your research paper for further depth. Expect a grade by the end of the week. Thank you, it was… mostly a pleasure having you in my class,” his eyes glance at you briefly and it takes all of you not to launch at him over his stupidly expensive desk.
“Thank you professor. Have a good winter break,” Namjoon smiles. The three of you leave the small conference room attached to his office. Thankfully, you did not have to present your project in front of the entire class.
You let out a groan of relief when the cold winter air welcomes you outside. “Thank god that’s over!” You smile up at the sky.
Jungkook throws an arm around your shoulder to pull you in close, “What grade do you think we’ll get hyung?” He smiles at Namjoon who is digging around for his phone.
“Hopefully an A. With the bullshit you were feeding him? I think he loved it, he was just being a hardass because of Y/N,” he motions to you.
You’re mouth falls open, “Hey! It’s not my fault he doesn’t like me! He’s a raging psychotic sexist,” you huff crossing your arms over you.
“Uh huh,” Namjoon hums, “First day straggler.”
You narrow your eyes at him before Jungkook nudges you, “C’mon I’m freezing, let’s go home,” he whines and you give him a small nod.  
“I’ll see you after break?” You ask the dimpled man in front of you.
He smiles, “Yeah for sure. But I gotta go—I have a plane to catch later tonight.”
“Where are you going?” This is even news to Jungkook.
“Oh, Kaya and I are going to Europe for two weeks, should be fun,” he looks down at his phone, “Oh shit, yeah I gotta go, Merry Christmas!” He waves at you two before running off in the opposite direction to the bus stop.
“Europe? I wanna go to Europe,” you pout looking up at Jungkook. He gives you a peck on the lips, your pout irrespective.
“We’ll go one day. It’s fun,” he says as you two begin to walk towards the student parking lot.
“You’ve been?”
“A few countries there, yeah,” he nods intertwining your fingers. Jeez, the amount of things and places Jungkook has been in his 22 years made your life look boring as hell. “Like I said, we’ll go—I promise,” is the last thing he says before you two get into his car.
The car ride is mostly a comfortable silence on the way to your place. His hand rests on your thigh, holding you tighter whenever he takes a turn.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” Jungkook asks suddenly getting your attention.
“It’s not that I don’t want to Jungkook,” you say, “It’s just Taehyung said he was going to be here by himself all break and when he asked, I felt bad.”
He pouts giving you a glance, “I know but I’ll be lonelyyy,” he drags out.
“You have your whole family babe,” you laugh at his childish demeanor.
“Yeah but I’m not exactly into cuddling my brother when I go to sleep,” he mutters and you swat his arm. “And you’re telling me I have to go two weeks without having sex?!”
“Jungkook,” you roll your eyes with a laugh, “You’re starting to sound like Professor Jung with your concerns about sex.”
“Duh,” he says, “Why do you think I liked him so much?”
“I hate you,” you deadpan and you gives you a shit-eating grin.
“I love you too.”
The next couple days Jungkook stays at your place completely, not wanting to leave your side before he has to go to Busan for two weeks. He was very disappointed that you didn’t want to go to Busan with him, but he knew Taehyung was your best friend and you were bound to do anything for him.
“I can’t believe you’re trusting me with your car,” you say pulling into the train station parking garage. His Mercedes was a low-ground sports car, complete with a V8 engine and custom leather seats. You were still blown away that Jungkook had this car in college. You assumed that his parents must have money because you didn’t know how else to explain it.
Jungkook was nervous watching you drive his baby. When you would press on the gas or the breaks a little too hard he could felt his heart stop for a second.
“Yeah just please be careful,” he pleads as you park perfectly. You put his car in park and turn to him.
“Don’t you trust me?” You blink your lashes at him. He smirks adjusting the beanie on his head.
“I do,” he says, “Mostly.”
“Let’s make a deal Jeon,” you suggest as you help him unload his bags from the trunk. Jungkook was like a woman bringing two full suitcases and a duffle bag with him for a two week trip.
“Shoot babe,” he says.
“If nothing happens to your car in these two weeks—which it won’t—you can treat me for being a good girl,” you smirk up at him and he visibly gulps, rolling his tongue in his cheek. He thought your morning sex would have been enough but he wonder’s if he should take you into a bathroom at the train station and fuck your brains out again before he leaves.
“Deal,” he manages to choke out, going against his previous thought. Goddamn he was so in love with you he wasn’t sure he could make it without you for two weeks. In the five months you have known each other this was going to be longest time spent apart.
As you approach the ticket counter for Jungkook to check in, you start to feel a sadness settling in your heart and stomach. You felt like you were being dramatic about not seeing Jungkook for two weeks but he had become such an important role in your happiness—it was going to be weird not seeing him everyday. He truly was your other half.
“Alright I gotta head to my platform,” Jungkook says giving you a weak smile. “Thanks for driving me here.”
You try your best to muster up a smile, “No problem.”
He quickly pulls you in for a hug, encasing your frame around his tightly. You inhale his scent deeply so you won’t forget it in the next couple weeks.
“Don’t miss me too much,” he mumbles into your ear.
You pull your head out of his chest, “As long as you don’t miss me too much.”
God you two were disgusting.
He smiles leaning down a for kiss, you close the gap between you two. You only kiss for a moment not wanting to catch any unwanted attention.
“I love you,” you smile at him.
“I love you too,” he says, suddenly reaching into the deep pocket of his large sweatshirt. “Here,” he hands over a tiny box wrapped in Christmas paper and an envelope taped to the bottom of it.
“Jungkook,” you look at him and then the present, “We said we weren’t going to give each other presents.”
“I know but I couldn’t resist. I just thought of you when I saw it.”
“Thank you,” your heart flutters and you give him one last peck before he has to leave.  
“Merry Christmas,” he says, “I’ll let you know when I arrive.”
“Merry Christmas Jungkook.”
A brief walk back to Jungkook’s car has your heart in shambles. As you watched him leave for his platform, you couldn’t help but think you should have went with him. Taehyung would have understood—but that also meant meeting his parents and you weren’t sure that was a good idea just yet.
You settled into the driver seat of his car, carefully tearing the wrapping from the small box. Your eyes widen when you open it, a baby teal box revealing a beautiful ring on the inside. A gold band shines in the light, a small circular diamond in the middle shines even brighter.
“Holy shit,” you breathe out, quickly ripping open the envelope that he also gave you. It contained a cheesy Christmas card, his handwriting scribbling—
Merry Christmas Y/N. You’ve changed my life in more ways than one. I’m just one call away and I’ll always be here for you.
Cheesy I know—but you know cheesy is my middle name.
I love you.
“Jesus Christ Y/N!” Taehyung exclaims when you show him your new accessory on your hand. “This must have been thousands of dollars,” he grabs your hand to inspect the jewelry. “Tiffany too? What kind of money is Jungkook’s parent’s shitting out for him to give you this?”
“Hey now, he does well with his photography,” you pinch in, noting that he began selling pieces after much consideration.
“I know I know but damn,” he moves your hand around to see the light catching in the diamond. “When did he give you this?”
“The other day when I dropped him off at the train station.”
“Wow… I think you’ve won in the boyfriend category Y/N,” his eyes still haven’t left your finger and you know it’s the alcohol in his system that is keeping him mesmerized.
“It’s not a competition dumbass,” you spew at him.
“What did you get him? An amazing blowjob topped with a new lens for his cameras?”
You laugh at Taehyung’s words, “I’m more mad at the fact the he even bought it, we said we weren’t going to give each other gifts.”
“Well shit Y/N he basically proposed to you—that’s not a gift, is it?” His glassy, wine drunk eyes look at you curiously.
You pull your hand away from him, laying back down against your couch.
“Tae,” you mutter, feeling slightly tipsy yourself, “Do you think Jungkook and I will last?”
Taehyung leans back beside you, exhaling a deep breathe heavily. He doesn’t say anything for a few moments. The silence isn’t uncomfortable but it makes you nervous.
“Yeah,” he says, his eyes looking straight ahead, his tone real and understanding. Taehyung couldn’t voice it—no matter how much he wanted to over the months of you relationship with Jungkook—but he knew what you were going through in more ways than one.
“Really?” You look at him, nuzzling your head into his outstretched arm. He looks down at you before nodding.
“If you two want it to work… it will,” his voice deep and serious.
“How do you know that though?” You mutter, your tone down and pessimistic.
He breathes in deeply, “I just do… I know you two love each other. Anyone can see it Y/N. Don’t doubt anything unless you’ve been given a reason to doubt.”
Taehyung was always more philosophical when he was drinking and this proves that even more.
“Trust me,” his deep voice adds when you don’t say anything immediately .
“What would I do without you?” You finally muster looking up at him.
He smirks, “Lose your mind, that’s what.”
“Give me more credit than that asshole,” you push against his torso.
He laughs before responds with, “Hell no.”
“Well, should we open up our presents?” You give him a small smile glancing at the gifts that were lazily strewn on the floor. Your miniature Christmas tree was slightly pathetic—but it was better than nothing you suppose.
“Sure, but don’t expect another item from Tiffany alright?” He muses as he stands up to grab his gifts for you.
“Fuck off,” you laugh reaching your hands out as he places a bag and a box wrapped in front of you. You were sure Jimin wrapped these given how perfect they were.
“You first,” he gives you a warm smile. You dig into the bag first as it is less to unwrap. Your mouth drops open when you pull out a box of condoms, Taehyung stifling a laugh behind his smile.
“Taehyung are you kidding me?” You’re trying hard not to laugh either. He fucking would.
“Ultra thin… thought they would come in handy since, you know, you two fuck like bunnies,” he sends over a wink and you’re quick to flip him off. You open his next present which happens to be a coat you’ve been eyeing for the past few weeks, but hesitant to buy due to the $300 price tag.
“Tae, you didn’t have to get me this,” you marvel at the thick material, the baby blue color just the one you wanted. “This is too expensive—“
“Babe it’s fine,” he shakes his head, “I know you need some help with our wardrobe so I’m only offering my services,” he says matter of factly.
You move the box away from you and throw your arms around his neck. He hugs you tightly and in this moment you realize how happy your are. You perhaps have the best boyfriend and best friend of anyone you know. You didn’t think anything would change that.
“Here,” you pass Taehyung over your present and he quickly rips the paper off. He looks like a little kid on Christmas morning and you decide to pour more wine as he fidgets with the box.
“Shit Y/N!” He smiles widely, “Holy shit you didn’t have to get me this,” he takes his gift out of the box. He smiles widely at the leather bag you got him. Not a cheap price tag either—but it was Taehyung’s favorite bag and his old one was not cutting it anymore.
“It’s fine,” you shake your head, gulping down your white wine quickly. You two were quite drunk at this point.
“Jeez,” he shakes his head pulling you into another bone crushing hug, “Fuck Jimin and Jungkook. Let’s just get married, you and me kid.”
You laugh at his words, “Trust me, if you were straight I would take you up on that.”
The rest of your evening is spent with watching “How the Grinch Stole Christmas,” more wine, and endless laughter with your best friend.
It’s about 5 AM when you wake up in your bed with a busting headache and a stomach ache that has you doubled over on your toilet. Fuck, did you really drink that much? Your question is answered when everything in your stomach is coming up through your esophagus. You don’t know how long you sit on your knees, hands on the toilet throwing up your guts.
“Y/N?” Taehyung appears at your bathroom door rubbing his eyes, “Whoa, are you okay?” He quickly comes down behind you, holding your hair back and away from your face.
Finally after what seems like forever, you stop throwing up, resting your head on the porcelain.
“Yeah,” you groan, your throat raw and sore, “I guess I just drank too much.”
“Shit, do you need anything?” He asks, voice laced with concern.
“Just some water please,” you tell him and he leaves to quickly get you a glass. “Fuck,” you mutter to yourself. You’re not sure the last time you were this hungover was. You knew you needed water and sleep—maybe that would alleviate the pain in your head and stomach.
You get back into bed a few moments later with Taehyung laying down beside you. He gives you your space and before you know it, both of you fall back to sleep.
You wake up again around 10 AM, your headache still busting but your stomach more settled now. You’re sipping tea watching another Christmas movie with Taehyung when your phone rings. A smile stretches on your face when you see Jungkook’s name pop up.
“Hey,” you answer the phone, sitting up from your position on the couch.
“Hey babe,” his voice brings comfort to your ears, “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas,” you say, “Did you have a good morning?”
Jungkook hesitates over the line before speaks again, “Uh, yeah… what about you?”
You furrow your eyebrows at his tone. He sounds… distant and unconfident with his words.
“I mean I’ve been better,” you laugh, watching Taehyung glance at you quickly.
“What’s wrong?” He asks.
“Well I’m just really hungover, Taehyung really did a number on me with the wine last night,” you laugh again trying to ease whatever tension Jungkook is holding through the phone.
He chuckles nervously for a moment over the phone, “Well drink some water and rest okay?”
“I know, I’m gonna take it easy for the rest of the day,” you look at your nails that desperately need to be manicured.
“Yeah good,” is all he says and you purse your lips. Normally Jungkook is so talkative over the phone—what’s up with him?
“Babe are you okay?” You ask him with genuine concern. You would hate for him to be going through something and him not tell you. Taehyung gives you a weird look and you shrug your shoulders.
“Yeah,” he clears his throat, “I’m just tired from all the Christmas hoopla I’ve had to do the past few days,” he says seeming to explain his demeanor, “But I’m gonna call you later okay? I’ve got a Christmas brunch to get ready for but I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas.”
You smile at his words, “Alright, have fun. I’ll talk to you later. Hurry home. I love you.”
“I’ll try I promise,” you can sense a small smile in his voice, “I love you too.” So much.
You stay sick for the next three days. Your body aches, your head hurts, and you’re still throwing up occasionally therefore you’ve barely had anything to eat the past three days. You and Taehyung are afraid you’ve picked up a small flu from someone. Despite this, Taehyung stays with you, not wanting to leave you alone sick like this.
Jimin gets back from home a couple days after you’ve fallen ill. Jimin being a medical guy himself, is unsure of what or who could have gotten you sick.
“As long as you don’t get and maintain a fever, I think you should be fine,” he says watching your frame on your couch. You had not felt this sick in so long and of course it had to be right before Jungkook got back home too.
“Should Jungkook come around her? He gets back when, tomorrow?” Taehyung asks you.
You nod, “Yeah, tomorrow evening,” you manage to say through your sore throat that feels like it’s actually on fire.
“I don’t think you’re contagious otherwise he would be sick too,” he motions to Taehyung, “He should be fine,” his voice is low and steady. His eyes don’t leave your frame though you’re too tired to notice Jimin’s intense stare.
You push yourself off of the couch, wanting to get some sleep in your bed. “I’m gonna take a nap, you guys don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.”
Taehyung and Jimin exchange a glance before nodding, “We can get some food and bring some back for you later?”
“That would be great Tae,” you smile at him, “Thanks guys.”
Jimin and Taehyung leave your apartment, locking the door behind them with Taehyung’s spare key.
“Do you think she’s really okay? I’ve never seen her like this,” Taehyung mumbles to Jimin as he pulls up directions to the nearest ramen restaurant near them.
Jimin’s throat goes dry and he hesitates, biting his lip, “Honestly, I think we’ll just have to see.”
Jimin’s words are uneasy in Taehyung’s mind—both of them equally worried for you.
. You are jumping out of the shower when you get a text from Jungkook.
[Jungkook ♥ 6:58 PM] I’m about an hour away. Can’t wait to see you.
You smile at his text, heart fluttering at the thought of seeing him again. Today you woke up feeling a lot better—still not 100%—but you could actually stomach food today. Despite your illness, you didn’t really care at this point. You could wait to see Jungkook—you missed him so much more than you thought you would have.
[You 7:00 PM] Perfect. I’ll see you soon ♥
[Jungkook ♥ 7:02 PM] ♥
The train station is more crowded than it was went you sent Jungkook off. The masses of being returning from their holiday was immense and you were afriad you weren’t going to be able to find Jungkook through the masses.
Little to your knowledge, Jungkook had spotted you after he exited his platform—a beautiful baby blue coat hanging off of your frame—signaling where you stood. After not seeing your face for two weeks, he smiled to himself. You were so fucking beautiful to him and he loved you so much—it only made his heart hurt even more.
He hesitates walking towards your back that’s facing him. He takes in a deep breath before he wraps his arms around your front. You jump in his arms and turn around with the smile that makes his day. Today—it only breaks him even further.
“Jungkook,” you turn around and hug him tightly. Finally—he was home. He doesn’t say anything as he returns your hug, kissing you on the top of the head. He glances down at his arms, pulling his jacket sleeve down, making sure his watch wasn’t going anywhere.
After all, he was desperate to hide the name that was inked on his wrist that wasn’t yours.
Christmas Eve—Busan
Jungkook’s tie is too tight around his neck. He swore to his mother that it was fine but her being as stubborn as she was, made sure to secure it so that not even she could move it. He pulls at his collar and his older brother, Junghyun laughs at him.
“You look like a little kid, pulling and tugging at that you know,” Junghyun eyes Jungkook and he rolls his eyes.
“It’s suffocating hyung—I’m not drunk enough for this bullshit,” Jungkook responds with a laugh.
It was their annual Christmas Eve party held by their father’s company and it was just as stuffy and rich as Jungkook remembers. Jungkook and his brother didn’t speak much about their wealth. They had both grown up with more money, toys, clothes, shoes, and vacations that they ever needed. They never once complained as they both know how incredibly lucky they were to have already lived 5 lives before turning 30. They did however, understand how tiring this lifestyle was.
Perhaps it is why neither Jungkook or Junghyun pursued business as a major—neither one wanted to have this much to handle on their plate. Thankfully, despite most of the people that associated with the Jeon family—their mother and father were humble and respected their sons’ decisions to make their own path. If it were up to their mother though, should would have her sons closer to Busan than so far away.
“Well, the night is still young,” his brother speaks again, handing Jungkook a glass of champagne.
“There you two are,” Yeri—Junghyun’s soulmate and partner appears from what seems to be out of thin air. “Hi my love,” she smiles up at Junghyun as he pulls her closer to his hip. “Jungkook, how are you?”  
“Pretty good, my tie is too tight,” he pouts.  
Yeri observes Jungkook, “I think it looks good?” She looks back up at his brother and he nods in agreement.
“I know, he’s just a baby,”  he remarks and Jungkook rolls his eyes.  
“Anyways, your mother is looking for you two—we’re about to eat dinner,” she informs and both of the brother’s nod.  
Jungkook follows closely behind them, weaving in and out of people to get to their designated table. Jungkook only recognizes a handful of people he passes even though they know exactly who he is. They find their table, their parents already seated and ready for dinner.
Jungkook smiles when he sees his mother, bending down to hug her.
“Hello Jungkook, Junghyun,” she greets her sons, “Yeri, please sit!”
He takes a seat right of his mom, Junghyun and Yeri to his left. His father is busy speaking with a business partner at the table to pay much attention to them. Jungkook grew up used to that though—his father always overworking himself, barely getting home before they had to go to bed. Despite this, he was still a great father in Jungkook’s eyes, providing and making them laugh every chance he got.
“What’s for dinner, Mrs. Jeon?” Yeri asks. Jungkook’s mother loved Yeri the moment she set her eyes on her all those years ago and nothing has changed.
“Oh, we’re having a little bit of everything—bulgogi, samgyeopsal, jajangmyeon, kimchi. I hope it’s good, we had to get a new caterer this year,” a sudden worry falls over he face but she quickly brushes it away.
“Perfect, I’m starved,” Jungkook mumbles, once again, mindlessly tugging at his collar. Jungkook’s mom swats his hand away.
“Quit it, you’re fine,” she scolds him and he settles in his seat, picking up his newly poured glass of red wine. It was true—he was starved and if he didn’t get food in his system quickly, he would probably become tipsy from a singular glass of champagne and wine.
The food arrives at each table in an orderly fashion as everyone finally takes their seats. A few words of thanks are spoken before everyone digs in, placing various meats on the grills in front of them. Commotion and chatter quickly fill the large hall. Jungkook is busy stuffing his mouth with noodles when suddenly his name is spoken across the table.
“Jungkook,” his father addresses him. He swallows his food quickly before raising an eyebrow in response. “You remember Mr. Kim, Seokjin’s father?”
The mention of Seokjin brings a wash of memories over Jungkook’s brain. He was an older kid that him and Junghyun used to play around with growing up.
“Yes, of course,” Jungkook slightly smiles to the elder.
“I can’t believe you’re almost done with university,” Mr. Kim compliments Jungkook, “What are you majoring in again?”
“Sports medicine,” Jungkook says feeling slightly intimidated by his stare. Suddenly Mr. Kim’s eyes glance down to Jungkook’s hand and he suddenly feels self conscious about his the ink colored on his fingers. He quickly retracts his hand under the table before he speaks again.
“Well that’s really good to hear,” he smiles warmly again, “Are you planning on furthering your education past undergrad?”
“Yes sir,” he nods, “I plan to pursue a sports physician or therapist within the next few years.”
He looks over at Jungkook’s father, “I don’t think your sons could be any more opposite than you and I,” he laughs and Jungkook’s father nods with a small smile.
“As long as they’re happy, that’s all that matters,” his father says. Jungkook glances at Junghyun, hoping he was paying some attention to the conversation so Jungkook could continue eating. He wasn’t.
“Yes I see,” Mr. Kim nods, “They will do g