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suhdays · 2 days ago
ashes to ashes, 5 | ksj
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chapter five: it comes at a price
❝since birth you never quite felt fulfilled in your soul. although thriving in the heavenly realm consumed of purity and perfection, you were tainted. not entirely sure of this divide, you felt yourself lured into the darkness. step by step you got closer until on the edge of falling into the groaning chasm. one being held you back from fulfilling your destiny — kim seokjin.❞
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• pairing: king seokjin x queen f reader
• genre: angst, some fluff, fantasy au, royalty au
• warning(s): reader has a lot of fear, mention of death (but not in the context of someone passing away), brief mention of torture (not described)
• rating: pg-13
• word count: 2.5k
• tags: @triviafics @vminity21 @gukniverse @shyfoxarbiter16 @rooo-tah @sugaslittlekookies @artaefact
• note: im sorry it’s been so long since i last updated !! have felt a little discouraged with this series but i do truly enjoy writing fantasy so i am determined to finish it! this is a little bit of a shorter one...but there are only two parts left! lmk what you think!
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Glowing eyes observed the darkening water that carried a depth no other living being could understand. The pond of reflection was a mirror of all realms that collided into one moment only the Witch Mother could witness. Her possession of evil powers kept her fate intertwined with a life of ultimate beauty. She never aged. As part of her oath to protect the secrets which hold this existence in one piece, she must abide by the sacred promise. However this promise proves to be impossible when prophecy torments reality. Can prophecy truly be altered? Well, when glancing into the possibilities right at her feet…anything seems possible. 
Mother Witch stared intently at her reflection before it transformed into the image of you. In the darkness of the night you were desperately seeking answers from someone who is willing to give you the chance. Unfortunately, those answers come hesitantly. But at least it’s enough for you to feel as if you have a grasp on your own fate. Or so you thought. She knew exactly the being you were to turn to. Yoongi. 
Her disdain from him was deeply rooted in the destruction of their realm. He once ruled as the rightful heir in which all witches would seek his final order. Except somewhere along the way he traded his family for his own personal gain. Instead of protecting his own, he turned his back to be free of the turmoil. Now this is a plague that Mother Witch must bear alone. 
She has never forgotten nor will she ever forgive. Therefore, this is enough cause for her to get involved. To stop you from meeting with Yoongi is how she must proceed. 
As she attempts to make those steps in your direction just outside of the border, she is forbidden to even move. In those moments with her eyes fixated in your figure, a dark shadow crawled out of the water to latch onto her limbs. It’s palms digging into her flesh until a burning sensation consumed her insides to the point of silence befalling her lips. 
Your promise does not outweigh prophecy, the voice whispered. The princess is key to our reign.
Mother Witch could not interfere. All she is allowed is vision as far as she is allowed before Yoongi’s spell shuts her out. 
Some battles are not worth fighting….yet. 
There were plenty of things that occurred outside of your knowledge. You were unaware of the battles and evil that lie just beyond your vision. How could you possibly know? Since birth you were shielded from your rights to choose. Of your rights to pave your path as it is destined to be. Whatever Mother Witch was attempting to achieve…it did not matter to you unless it directly interferes with your journey. Although the path may be difficult to navigate…you still persisted. 
Assured that you are not alone, you tread lightly along the beaten path. To the left is where you see the direction leading to Yoongi. Whispers flowed through the gusts of wind that took hold of your frame in bewilderment. There hasn’t been this kind of a breeze before which means that another being is responsible for it. You failed to hear what was being said so you sought to focus on it’s voice. Except it never came again. 
Instead, you positioned your feet carefully so as to not disturb the chilling silence. The issue is that your presence can never be ignored. Even at a great distance, all creatures already knew of your whereabouts. 
The moon rose high to shed light across the land. Every land besides this one. A thick layer of fog soaked the earth to conceal the reality of it’s damage. Poison is the only explanation when concerning the isolation that is departed from the witches. Life drained from the roots to leave corpses of the trees. What you often admire out of pure beauty is but a shadow. 
“I believe our last encounter resulted in your dismissal,” Yoongi’s soft voice shattered the stillness. “My words are not a mere warning but an indefinite threat.” 
“I beg of you,” you searched for his figure by turning on your heels. “Truth can only be learned from one. You are my source of understanding.” 
Yoongi paused to consider his circumstances, “Follow me.” 
He curled his fingertips as he tilted his head back to divide the wall of fog, quickly exposing his stance. Creating an opening that permitted you to move forward, you did as you were told by also maintaining a distance. What you caught a glimpse of was the faint golden glow of Yoongi’s eyes. The outline of his body in comparison to those fiery embers reveal a curiosity about his identity. Witches are known to be crystal why is it different for him? And why is it only at night?
“Silence your mind,” Yoongi murmured as he led you further into the woods. “Anything regarding my existence is not meant for you to grasp in this lifetime.” 
He can read my mind, you thought. 
You believed that only great beings were capable of such a gift, beings similar to Jimin. 
“An angel has presented themselves to you?” Yoongi stopped in his tracks to face you. “Is this true?” 
There was a puddle of fear that crawled along your chest, “Indeed.” 
Something clicked in Yoongi that you couldn’t quite describe. He frantically scanned the surrounding area to ensure no other unwanted guests tagged along. This is when he sealed his eyes for a brief moment to allow the fog to return. Now entirely covered with no ability to step ahead, you felt Yoongi’s hand latch onto your wrist. 
“We do not have a great deal of time,” his voice wavered. 
He was afraid. 
This did not help you any further. All sorts of uncertainties consumed your being for had you not come perhaps none of this would torment him. What is it that he knew?
Before you could piece any semblance of reality, Yoongi slowed his pace to unveil his home that molded into four great oaks. Oaks that were of inability to speak. He had placed a spell so that no others were able to discover his refuge. 
“Enter,” he whispered. 
Without hesitation you stepped through the threshold to see his cottage adorned with a crackling fire and assortment of small animals that thrived. You were intrigued to see them in this capacity. Yoongi put in effort to give them aid. They were safe with him. 
“An angel making themselves known to you is a cause for fear,” Yoongi began to speak without giving you a chance to rest. “It is in line with prophecy.”
“What prophecy?” You ask in a slightly aggravated tone. “All I hear are mumbles and dismissal of a prophecy that is profound yet out of my reach.” 
Yoongi met your gaze, “That you reign over death.” 
Death. That cannot be. Death cannot be a power in which you possess. For a near century you have been filled with light and life. You have been taught the way of beauty. How is such a prophecy forbidden to be seen if it is the deciding factor of your fate? Can this be true?
“Impossible,” you denied it. “My birthright is to rule the world of the heavens.” 
“That is your destiny,” Yoongi confirmed. “However, you are in line for the throne of death.” 
A dagger pierced through your soul at his words. None of this made sense. The weight of truth regarding the lack of transparency from your father and mother is what formed an incurable ache. It does give understanding as to why your touch transforms life into ash. However, you believed it was a mere nightmare that required a new awakening. Only now do you see that it is a lie. A veil of misery has been placed over your eyes. 
Tears flooded your vision, “How can this be?” 
“Long before the treaty of peace was signed between the realms, there was a royal witch of the underworld,” Yoongi confessed. “That witch was your mother.”
Your mother. Your mother was the thief of the night. 
“Your father had wandered beyond the boundary one night and came across a curse that plagued his heart,” Yoongi continued in a softer tone. “Only your mother could save him...but at a price.” 
“What price?” Your voice failed you but Yoongi knew what you were asking. 
Yoongi inhaled deeply, “His firstborn to be taken as ruler of death.” 
After all this time you assumed you were an only child. That no other being was in relation to you that may be an issue you must face. Until this exact moment. Evora is your younger sister. Her torment from the witches means she must have strived to take what was not her own right. Something must have occured to break the bond of peace. 
“I assume they had fallen in love and had forgotten the bargain?” You ask in sadness that adds the weight of eternity upon your shoulders. 
“I am afraid so,” Yoongi began to pace back and forth. “This is all I am permitted to reveal to you.” 
You frowned, “Can I not be given the whole truth of my existence?”
“You forget, princess, that your life is not the only one bound to misery.” Yoongi possessed grief that you could not understand. 
He had allowed for some grace for your sake but what of him? He is still wrestling with what is left of himself. For that reason you realized how it is never going to be a defining line of your destiny. There is a great deal you cannot truly see for it is blurred by the fog. 
“Why is it that you are isolated?” You ask in hopes of him giving an ounce of his history so that perhaps you may be of assistance. 
Yoongi smiled sadly, “The witches are my next of kin that no longer accept me for there is a darkness they seek that I refuse to align with.” 
There was a lingering silence that fell over you. This is when Yoongi turned his ear towards the door where he sensed a shift in the air. The window to openly discuss this has elapsed into the past. 
“My protection is...dying.” Yoongi whispered to the point you almost missed it. “You must return.” 
“Allow me to be of assistance,” you pleaded with him. “Perhaps Jimin can also h-”
“Angels are forbidden in the land of the lost,” Yoongi interjected. “Farwell, your highness.” 
Yoongi did not wait for you to speak as he began to recite the same spell as he had once done, causing you to automatically appear at the start of your journey just outside the witches realm. You blinked rapidly to regain focus of your surroundings. In a matter of a few seconds you fell to your knees in utter despair. Who you thought you were was pure. Who you believed to be was wholeheartedly perfect. In the end, you are a defect. 
The heartache that nearly tore you to pieces evolved into an unbearable feeling. Never once had you endured such agony. And you are alone. At least, you assumed you were alone. The Great Oak rumbled throughout the earth to notify Seokjin of your state. You were too distracted to realize this. 
Seokjin had already intended to search for you. He desired to be there for you in support of whatever it was that tormented you. It wasn’t long before you heard footsteps approach you. 
“My love,” Seokjin’s voice brought you back into the present. “I am here.” 
He kneeled alongside you to cup your cheeks in his palms, “Use me for relief. Use me to be free.” 
There was little thought in what you deemed to be best since all you managed to do was leap forward to wrap your arms around his neck. Burying your nose into his neck, he immediately trails his fingers down to your waist. You embraced one another for what felt like a lifetime. 
Seokjin is your comfort even though you cannot find the strength to confide in him. Not yet. 
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Jimin sensed your determination to seek the truth of your ancestry. To fully grasp the reason for your torture. As an angel he saw into the future that is destined for you but it is not of his power to reveal what is meant to be learned on your own. He is not permitted to be the bridge between your misunderstandings and prophecy. All that he is capable of is to save you if it so happens to be your decision. Jimin cannot decide for you. 
He did follow through with your request while you returned to Yoongi’s solitude. Meeting with Evora is a task that can come easily for he can only be seen by those he grants the ability to. His presence will be out of sight aside from your sister. 
As he guided himself through the chambers molded into the stone of the earth, he floated down the almost chasm like cells to where she resided. Concealed behind silver bars with a never dying light flickering just outside the threshold. 
She could sense his presence. 
“I suppose it is my chance to be graced by the heavens,” Evora lifted her head to meet his softened gaze. “Am I yet another damaged soul that requires saving?” 
“Every soul can be saved,” Jimin answered sincerely. 
Evora burst into loud laughter, “Does that buffoonery work on my beloved sister?”
“I do not tempt nor lure any being into possessing the same wisdom,” Jimin answered simply without ever showing an ounce of emotion. “My thoughts cannot mirror that of another.” 
“Meaning you do not seek to manipulate every creature in your path?” Evora attempted to evoke some outrage from Jimin. Anything. 
“You come from a world that thrives on manipulation,” Jimin explained what you clearly knew. “Do not mistake my abilities as anything evil for you will be proven otherwise.” 
“My my,” Evora moved away from the corner to close the distance between her and Jimin. “I imagined angels to be few with their words. However, you prove to be just as tiresome as...the rest.” 
“Your trickery brought upon consequences you did not think existed,” Jimin says once he examined her for a few seconds more. “You trespassed into a curse that you believed to be humorous.” 
Evora’s expression fell. She thought that because angels resided in the realm of purity, there was no possibility that Jimin would know of her existence in others. It is clear that she is entirely in the wrong. There is plenty that she is unaware of. 
“I am the one who should reign over death,” she whispers. “Instead, I am considered unworthy for the one who is to be the ruler is left in the shadows of her rights.” 
Jimin remained silent. 
“All this time I believed that it was allowed for me to take her place,” Evora confessed. “I paid a price for assuming such nonsense.” 
“The price...” Jimin murmured faintly, for he did not want to confirm what was already known. 
“Passage to power for the witches.” 
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venusiangguk · 3 months 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 🤧 
>>summary: jk takes you to a bbq at his friends house. the tri-tip is good but the creampie is even better.
series masterlist, pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4
“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 😚 series masterlist, pt 1, pt 2, pt 3
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bratkook · 5 days ago
switch up! (m) jjk.
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banner by @dee-ehn
pairing. bass player!jk x reader  genre. fluff, smut word count. 18k warnings. lotsa kissing, oral sex (m. & f.), sooome spit bc why not, protected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cockwarming?? summary. you would have never expected your shy, innocent art partner to be the man on stage covered in tattoos note. the tags are janky as fuck so if u read and enjoy, pls reblog ! let me refer you to this post of mine that birthed this hannah montana/double life jungkook. he is sweet and lowkey filthy and i love him sm & hope u will too <3, this fic is half plot and half smut to get myself back into writing filth and also to finally give jk a bassist story on my page lol, i’ve been working on this idea since january...writers block has been gnarly as please let me know what you think of it hehe ty ilysm (also pls dont ask me for a part two, if i decide to write more for them ill let u guys know<3) taglist. @parkdatjimin , @jimilogy , @cheekychoca , @jjk301 , @marcoazz2 , @girlsforgloss , @fancycollectormoon , @aurevoir-le-bitches , @redbabie17 , @tomotae​ , @heartykoo ,
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The gentle breeze of the wind flows around you, trees rustling above, leaves fluttering down and landing on the blanket you had just meticulously spread out. The red and yellow leaves stand out against the light material, and you’re tempted to just leave them there but your desire to make this perfect has you crawling forward instantly, plucking the leaves and tossing them aside before smoothing out the fabric once more and settling back onto your butt. 
There, that’s better. 
The set up you currently had looked more like a picnic than the original drawing ‘date’ you had arranged. A wooden wicker basket was to your left, full of a variety of snacks and treats for you to munch on while you worked, your art supplies nestled to the side of it. You had almost forgotten them in your haste to leave, too excited about spending time with your art partner outside of class to remember what the actual premise of this was. It doesn’t stand out too much, the giant quad in the middle of your campus was occupied by other couples having similar picnics all around you, so hopefully you can pass this off as no big deal. 
Jungkook definitely doesn’t mind it though. When he approaches the set up you have, dark bag slung over his shoulder and his arms tucked into the pockets of his coat, he smiles as he sees you fidgeting with the edges of the blanket that flutter up with the wind. There's a small pep in his step as he gets closer, the small jitters he always felt while around you creeping up his spine and mixing with excitement. It's the same cocktail of emotions he has swirling in his gut anytime you were near. 
The crunching of leaves grabs your attention, looking up as you rest your bag on a corner to prevent it from flying up again. He eyes the curve of your legs peeking out underneath the plaid skirt you wear, covered in sheer black tights in an attempt to shield yourself from the cooler weather. A blush dusts his cheeks when he meets your gaze and realizes he’s been caught gawking at you like he normally does. 
The smile on your lips as you wave him over only makes him hurry up, taking longer strides until the chunky black shoes on his feet are sticking out against the creme colored blanket. 
“Sorry, am I late?” he wonders, lowering his bag beside yours before slowly sitting down. His all black ensemble swallows him up, the only form fitting article being the turtle neck peeking through his coat. When he adjusts his glasses, looking up at you with a small grimace, you snap out of it and clear your throat. 
“No, I got here a little earlier to set this all up.” You reach for the wicker basket, flipping it open and sliding it in between you so he could get a glimpse of what was inside. “I hope you like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.”
Jungkook smiles down at the basket before locking eyes with you once more. “I love them actually. Thanks.” His fidgety hands waste no time pulling out his art supplies, not knowing how to sit in comfortable silence with you beside him, needing to occupy himself to not say anything without thinking. His mind was always whirling whenever you were within close proximity, it was a miracle he could get work done in class with you inches from him. 
You recognize the nervous ticks he has, how his fingers twirl the pencil in his hand as he flips open his sketch pad, how his eyes bounce from your knees back to the paper—too nervous to look up at you again. His toffee brown strands fall over his brows, tips of them resting on the rim of his glasses as they slide down his nose, his finger coming up to push them back up with a scrunch. It’s adorable—he’s adorable—in that sweet boy next door kind of way. 
His soft spoken demeanor and gentle smile was the first thing you noticed months ago when the semester had just started, mentally cheering yourself on for choosing to sit beside him and becoming self proclaimed partners. Jungkook was definitely artistically gifted, not once complaining when you’d lean over to his side and awe at his work, trying to hide his bashful smile as he shrugged off your praise. It was the main reason you weren’t shy to compliment his art, or his outfits, or him in general, just wanting to see the cute way his nose scrunches up and his lips curl into a grin. 
“You look cute and cozy,” you breathe out, staring right at him and smiling when his eyes peer up at you through his glasses. Jungkook has since learned to not expect you to look away, you were far too comfortable with yourself to be embarrassed or bashful. Instead, you continue to give him a once over, small smile on your face when his cheeks blush slightly in a way that can’t be attributed to the cool breeze. 
You can already tell his mind is trying to unscramble a response to your casual compliment but you save him from it with a small sigh, your eyes falling onto his sketch pad instead. “So, how do you want me?”
Jungkook can’t hide his look of shock, his own thoughts taking over before he realizes what you truly meant. His fingers grip the edges of his sketchpad as he clears his throat, smoothing over the paper and looking up at how you were positioned. “Like that’s fine, but however you’re comfortable. I’ll try to work fast so you’re not stuck in this position for long.”
You merely shrug at his comment, delicately placing your hands on your knees and readjusting your legs to the side. “Honestly take your time. I know it’ll look amazing.”
“Yeah, thanks to you,” he mumbles quietly, a sheepish smile on his lips that only makes you smile widely in return. He quickly tries to deflect it by reaching for his pencil and beginning the sketch but you’re having none of that. 
“Was that your way of saying I look amazing?” Your voice is soft, a small fluttering in your stomach at his compliment. Throughout the weeks of knowing each other, in between your harmless flirting, Jungkook had only had the courage to reciprocate it a few times. Each time he did, whether it was saying your hair looked pretty, or you smelled nice, it stuck with you and continued to fuel the gentle crush you have. 
“You always look amazing,” he adds, eyes focused on the light strokes of his pencil, outlining your silhouette in the exact position you were in. Jungkook knew the second you set your sights on him you’d push his train of thought right off the tracks every time you spoke to him, turning him into the shy, stuttering boy he was in highschool. 
He’s grateful that you never push it too far, not knowing if he’d be able to keep up the teasing and compliments while attempting to focus on the project at the same time. Instead you try your best to fight back the smile on your lips, not wanting to mess up what he was currently drawing. 
It really didn’t matter to you how long this took, you’d be more than happy to sit here for hours if it meant you’d be able to have his full attention. It gives you all the time in the world to admire your view, your eyes tracing down the slope of his nose, the outline of his lips when he purses them in concentration, the fluttering of his lashes as his eyes bounce up from the page to glance at you before looking back down to capture any detail he might have missed. 
Jungkook is a silent worker, his style of choice relying too much on intricacy and detail to allow him to focus on anything else. His hands move smoothly across the page, the gentle scraping of his pencil blending in with the rustling of leaves and soft hums he’d let out as he analyzes his work. It’s only when he finishes the general sketch of your face that he looks up at you fully, a proud smile on his lips as he holds up the sketchpad for you to see the progress. 
“Okay, you’re free to talk now.” He must have sensed your desire to spark a conversation, knowing fully well how chatty you were on a daily basis. Jungkook enjoys it though, finding the random questions you’d ask or the simple stories you’d tell him very endearing. Everytime he spoke to you felt like he was flipping the page into another chapter of your life, knowing just a little bit more about you in a way that left him eagerly anticipating the next. 
“Oh that looks amazing already,” you gasp, inching forward a bit to get a better look. It was the bare bones of what would be another one of his masterpieces but what he currently had was still enough to leave you in awe. 
“I still need to add all the heavy details and shading but we’d probably be stuck here all night if I did it now.” 
“We have until next week to turn this in so we can always meet up again in between classes to finish up anything.” The eagerness laced in your words makes him smile, the thought of seeing you once again before today’s date was even over leaving him just as giddy. A shy nod in confirmation is all he gives you before he’s jumping back into the drawing. 
This time however you don’t sit in silence, able to chat away now that the attention was off your face. It lets the time fly by, giggling together as you casually bring up the fact that the campus goose had chased you down earlier and you’d have to find a new route down here because the experience had been slightly traumatic. Your favorite moment however was munching on the sandwiches you brought and carefully feeding him some so his messy fingers wouldn’t ruin his work, his eyes crinkling up in thanks after every bite. 
His boyish laugh makes your cheeks hurt from smiling, something he takes note of as he looks up at you fondly, eyes locking together for a brief moment before the vibration of your phone grabs your attention. It buzzes against your leg, a slew of messages coming in from your best friend, all in varying degrees of distress as she contemplates her outfit choices for tonight. That's when you take note of the time, realizing you were supposed to be on your way to her place already. A quick response saying you’d be there soon is all you send before locking the device entirely. 
“Are you busy tomorrow?” you wonder, peering over to see how much more he had finished of his drawing. 
“I’m free in the morning. Why? Do you have to leave right now?” His doe eyes stare at you in curiosity, twirling the pencil in his grasp while you inch even closer to admire his work once more. He can smell your perfume, the earthy scent of amber warming him up, it reminds him of a rainstorm and he tries his best not to not make it obvious how much he enjoys your close proximity. 
“Yeah, I didn’t realize what time it was. I’m supposed to meet up with a friend right now, but we can finish up our drawings tomorrow.” 
Jungkook fishes his own phone out of his pocket, the bright white numbers letting him know he was also running late to his plans, quickly packing up his supplies as he nods his head. “Do you want to meet here again?”
Despite his rush, he helps you fold up your blanket as you pack up the rest of your things as well, gently tucking it into the wicker basket you brought and handing it over with a cute smile. 
“Yeah, just text me what time and I’ll be here. Bye Jungkook,” you sing out, wrapping an arm around him in a swift hug that makes his heart skip. His own arms envelop you easily, squeezing you tight before pulling away, the two of you going your separate ways with excitement weighing heavy in your chest.
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“He sounds geeky,” Chungha jokes when you finally bring him up to her later that night, your turtleneck, glasses wearing, art loving description painting him in a nerdy light that was very much Jungkook. 
“Shut up, he’s nice.”
“That's always code for ugly.”
You roll your eyes at her jab, but it’s not like she sees it, too focused on lining her lips as she stares at herself in the mirror. A huff escapes you as you fall back onto her bed, arms spread out and your heart still feeling light from the time spent with him. Your lips roll together as you hold in the small squeal you want to release when you remember the way his cheeks had bulged out while you fed him the sandwich, how his tongue would peek out to swipe at any of the jelly on his lips. Jeon Jungkook was the definition of cute, Chungha had no idea what she was talking about. 
“He’s actually really cute Chungha,” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you sit back up, watching as she fluffs her hair out before turning to look at you with an unconvinced stare. 
“Yeah, I’m sure he’s adorable. Hurry up and put some lip gloss on or something.” She reaches forward, grabbing a tube of gloss and tossing it at you with a chuckle. 
“Where are you dragging me to tonight?” you wonder, hauling yourself up to approach her brightly lit mirror. She has a prideful smile on her wine colored lips when she sees you doing exactly what she said, shooting you a thumbs up when you set the lipgloss into your bag once complete. 
“This club downtown. Cherin told me they play good music, and I’m in the mood to dance and make questionable decisions with cute boys.” You know she’s being serious too, the mischievous glint in her eyes and the way she adjusts her boobs in her top show you that much. When her finger comes up to poke at your own boobs you gasp and swat her hand away, cupping your tits with a glare. “Bring the girls out!”
“No, this top is cute.” She pokes at them once more, an evil laugh filling the air when you lift up your shirt to cover the small bit of cleavage showing. Thanks to your poor time management skills, it's the same outfit you wore earlier with Jungkook. Perfect for a cute day time drawing date, apparently not perfect for Chungha’s nightly activities. 
“At least take the tights off to show some skin.” She claps when you grumble under your breath as you once again do what she says, toeing off your heeled shoes and yanking the sheer material off your legs, balling it up before tossing it at her face. 
“Partially, but I’ll manage. C’mon let’s go.” You know she desperately wants to force you to wear something a tad more revealing but she bites her tongue, keeping any more comments to herself the entire way to the club. And once you step into the crowded space, she’s too focused on trying to score free drinks to even think of saying anything else. 
You follow close behind her, eyes scanning the interior, trying to make everything out in the dim lighting. This isn’t like the usual places you go to on your nights out, the atmosphere differs greatly from the typical clubs where the bass was heavy and the flashing lights were blinding. Instead a stage was placed in the far end, low to the ground with a good crowd of people surrounding it as a group in rhinestone covered shirts played music. Suddenly, you’re grateful you had kept your earlier outfit on, the atmosphere in here being more laid back than you had anticipated. 
“Did Cherin tell you this was a music venue?” you speak into Chungha’s ear with a laugh, grabbing the shot glass she passes your way. The boy beside her looks a little offended when she completely turns away from him to talk to you, deeming him unnecessary after he bought you both drinks. 
“No, but I like the vibe. Plus, look around, there's plenty of options for you to choose from.” Her elbow nudges into your side obnoxiously before she throws back her shot, eyes screwed up as she makes a face at the taste. You mimic her actions, licking your lips as you look around at all of the options you apparently have. The two of you were pros at this, jumping from club to club, getting free drinks and a handful of new numbers added to your phone before the night was over and you were taking someone home. It’s what you did best, it was harmless fun that made for great stories, but as you analyze the crowd around you, no one catches your eye, your flirtatious abilities having been drained after the day spent with Jungkook. The only thing you want to do tonight is loosen up and enjoy the music filling the space up. 
“Go work your magic and get us more drinks,” you deflect her suggestion, laughing when her eyes switch back over to predator mode as she searches for the next sucker to buy her alcohol. 
You’ve learned a long time ago to never underestimate your best friend’s ability to get what she wants, only further proven when she manages to get you comfortably buzzed without ever taking her wallet out. By now the crowd of people have begun to move around as the band starts to play covers of popular songs, you and Chungha nestled in between them as you dance along to the music. It's a mess of limbs and raspy voices as a huddle of drunk girls joins you both, horribly singing along to the 80’s pop cover filling up the space. 
It’s not until she sneaks away once more to grab yet another drink that your bladder finally throws up a white flag in surrender for you to take a break. The pout on her face makes you giggle as you slowly leave her in her spot, sliding between people and following the glowing neon sign that leads you to the bathroom. Stumbling into the surprisingly vacant restroom and into a stall has you realizing you’re a little past buzzed. The checkered floor seems to fuzz together and the dark green stall doors begin to sway as you rest your elbows on your thighs and laugh to yourself. 
“Oh god,” you groan with a smile, rubbing your cheeks with your cold fingers. “No more drinks.” It’s honestly in your best interest, you and Jungkook were set to get together tomorrow morning to finish up your projects and there's no way you could allow a hangover to put a damper on it. 
With a lot of fumbling, you exit from the stall, catching sight of your reflection on the mirror above the sinks. The gloss coating your lips has long since wiped off on the glass of the drinks Chungha was feeding you, and that just wouldn’t do. Reaching into your side bag, you pull out the cherry scented gloss you had swiped from your best friend's counter, uncapping it and giving your lips a generous swipe before deeming yourself ready to re-enter the scene outside the bathroom doors. 
“What took you so long?” Chungha groans, manicured hand gripping your arm as she pulls you back into the crowd of people. “You almost missed the babes on stage.”
“Babes?” you snort. “I don’t think the men in bedazzled shirts count as babes.”
“Not them! Them.” She points up at the stage now, your eyes following her finger and spotting the new group that had taken over, just barely setting themselves up. The dreamy sound of her voice has you turning back at her before you get a good look at the members, gripping her cheeks to get her to look at you instead of drooling over them. 
“Nuh uh, you made me promise to never let you mess around with any band guys again after the last one!”
“But c’mon, look at them. The lead singer looks like he can slap me and call me a good girl.” That compels you to take a look for yourself, spotting the man gripping the microphone as he smiled into the crowd, a black striped shirt loosely buttoned down his chest. He was totally her type, which meant you had to drag her out of here asap before she was somehow shimmying her way to the front and tossing her bra at him. 
“I gotta get to the front. Its fate,” she announces, already attempting to slip her way past the tightly packed crowd. 
“That’s not fate, Chungha,” you laugh, gripping her arm tighter to prevent her from moving. The last time Chungha had gotten involved with a self proclaimed rockstar she went on a downward spiral and was fully convinced she needed to shave her hair, so really you’re doing her a favor here. 
“Why not?” she huffs, eyes squinting up at the stage to see the rest of the members. “Take your pick of the rest of the band, the drummer’s cute!” 
A quick glance lets you see the bright orange haired man sitting behind the drums, twirling the sticks around with a giant smile as he spoke to the singer. He was cute, but not enough for you to aid your best friend on her quest. “Not my type.” 
“Fine. The guitarist has big hands, I know your ass likes that.” The man stood to the right had a dangerously unbuttoned shirt just barely clinging on, long black hair framing his face perfectly. But the sharp look in his eyes as he scans the crowd makes you avert your sight immediately. 
“I’m pretty sure he would ruin my life, like instantly.” 
“What about the bass player?” She continues on, going down her list until hopefully one of them sticks enough for you to loosen your grip on her arm. 
“Oh my god Chungha, drop it,” you scoff, but your curiosity has already been piqued, wondering if he was just as attractive as the other members. The man in question has his back to the crowd now as he adjusts the straps of his bass before beginning to fiddle with the instrument. 
As he wanders to the left side of the stage your eyes follow him, dark strands of hair covering his face as he stares down at his fingers. Thick silver chains hang off his wrist, veiny hands curling around the neck of his bass, bold lines of ink trailing up from the silver bracelets before getting cut off by the cuffed sleeve of his dark patterned button up. 
He was definitely your type. 
And as you follow the trail up his arms, to the chains around his neck, tracing the dark lines that barely touch the edge of his throat, and the soft curve of his lips when he finally looks up, you can’t help but feel like he looks oddly familiar. Until suddenly, the similarities are a little too strong to chalk up to pure coincidence. 
“Oh my god,” you whisper out, blinking harshly when you don’t believe your eyes. Maybe it was the alcohol sloshing in your stomach and making your vision all wonky, but the man who has the bass hanging low on his hips looks far too much like your art partner. The similar shade of brown hair on his head is swooped back instead of covering his forehead the way it always did, but that adorable bucktooth smile you had a soft spot for is the clear indicator that it was him. If that didn’t tell you as much, the wide doe eyed look on his face as he faces the crowd is the giant sign that lets you know Jeon Jungkook from art class has a double life. 
Did he really have a double life? Not likely. But the stark contrast in his appearance had you thinking this was some Hannah Montana moment and you would have to take this secret to the grave. 
“Oh you liked the bassist huh?” Chungha cackles, success coursing through her veins when she realizes she might get her chance tonight. 
Okay maybe you could tell Chungha the secret too. 
“Shut up, that's him!”
“Jungkook, the geek from my art class.” When she snorts in disbelief you slap her arm with force, ignoring her wince of pain. “On bass, the one covered in tattoos.”
“Oh shut the hell up.”
“I’m serious,” you whine.
“You said he was cute, not fucking sexy! He’s in a band?!” she shouts in a fit, ready to bombard you with questions before you cut her off with a plea. 
“We gotta go, I’m not sober enough to not make a fool out of myself in front of him.” Put Jungkook beside you in class, with his turtleneck and glasses, and you could flirt with him until his cheeks were red. But put him on stage where he's glowing, covered in ink, with an aura of confidence surrounding him, and you will go down way too fast for your dignity to survive. 
“What no, why?”
“Because what? You already told me you think he’s cute, how he gets all nervous around you, and now that you see him up there looking all fucking glorious you wanna run? No, babe this is fate.”
“This is not fate!” 
It’s uncharacteristically chicken for you to want to scram before you’re spotted, almost as if you were doing something you should be ashamed of instead of just enjoying a night out with your best friend. But your mind could not get itself out of the gutter, and all your thoughts were scrambled together to form some lewd visual of your cute art partner—who was currently chugging water like his life depended on it—spitting that exact water onto you. You had to go. Now. 
“You know the band, so I have a way in. Seems like fate to me.” Chungha sports a sly smile on her face, eyebrows wiggling at you as she tries to pry your hand off her arm a final time, giggling when you loosen your grip. 
“Oh you bitch, you’re pushing this for your own benefit.”
“Of course I am, but who are we to deny fate. Now we gotta get closer so you can get his attention and go fuck him in the bathroom!” 
You have absolutely no intention of fucking your art partner in the bathroom of this venue, but this version of Jungkook on the stage has you second guessing yourself. That’s not something you admit to Chungha though, because she will hold on to that and use it to guide every reckless decision she chooses to make tonight. Instead, you allow her to shimmy her way to the front with her free hand clasped to yours, no apologies sent to the girls she shoves out of the way. 
The band must have a good name for themselves judging by the people surrounding you, popular in this scene of music because the second the drums kickstart the first song everyone surges forward and screams in excitement. Chungha doesn’t care that she doesn’t know a single song, her eyes peering right up at the singer, just wishing and waiting for the right interaction to hook him. You were doing a slightly better attempt at pretending like you knew the music, bobbing your head along to the beat, but your own eyes were locked onto Jungkook. 
The loose fabric of his shirt flows around as he plays, slightly falling off his shoulder and revealing more of his tattoos to you, only making your brain short circuit some more. Why was it so hard for your mind to morph the cute and bashful Jungkook you were with earlier with the one you were currently staring at. This definitely had to be a sick dream, or maybe you were blackout drunk still in the bathroom stall you had walked into earlier. That had to be the only explanation to this. 
It’s something you believe, and sort of make peace with, until Jungkook scans the crowd with a smile and his eyes land on you. It’s a brief second before he moves on, but then the realization hits him and he’s double taking, the smile never leaving his face while he tries to make out that it's really you underneath the occasional flash of light. There’s a curious tilt to his head, his fingers never missing their spot on his instrument as the band goes through their songs, but he edges closer. 
He doesn’t look off put at seeing you—which makes you feel less guilty about discovering his double life—instead he looks proud, the twinkle in his eye sparkling when you finally smile back at him. That small interaction is just one of many, his eyes naturally gravitating to you throughout the set, almost as if he was double checking that you were actually there and weren’t just a figment of his imagination. 
As the band takes their first break, the singer panting into the microphone as he scans the crowd with a smile, Jungkook crouches down to grab his water. Your eyes are glued to him as he throws his head back and tilts the bottle, letting the liquid pour into his open mouth before he’s capping it once more, long fingers swiping at his lips to catch the stray drops. 
“It’s always nice to see a full house here On the Rox.” The crowd cheers at that, Chungha doing the most as she screams louder, successfully catching his attention as his eyes drop down to her. Your hands have to clasp around her shoulders to prevent her knees from giving out on her as he smirks. “I see a lot of pretty faces here tonight.”
Damn Chungha and her love of fate. 
“A lot of new faces here too,” another voice cuts into the space, and you recognize this one. Your eyes gravitate towards the left side of stage once more, locking onto Jungkook’s stare as he smiles at you before looking at the rest of the crowd. “If this is your first time seeing us tonight, I hope you enjoy it.”
“And if you’ve seen us before, make sure you give the newcomers some love.” The guitarist speaks now, his wavy black hair being raked off his face as he runs his fingers through it. The pick in his hand glides across his guitar with ease, a random chord playing through the speakers. “We got a couple songs left, are you ready?” 
The crowd cheers in response, Jungkook chuckling into the mic as he grips it, the silver chains dangling off his wrist. “You can do better than that. Are you ready?” His voice is strong, booming through the amps and getting the reaction they craved, everyone screaming as loud as they could. His lips spread out into a proud smile, and it’s impossible to look away from him. You’d never seen him like this before, but you can’t deny that confidence suits him, bathes him in this light that has your palms going clammy as he stares at you again. 
The sound of the next song rolling through barely registers within you as you snap out of it, pressing your forehead against your friend to collect yourself slightly before you’re able to look back up. It’s a blur of sounds and lights as their set progresses, you and Chungha loosening up enough to move around with the crowd as they play with their hearts. Jungkook continues to creep closer to you, never close enough to make it obvious but it makes your heart race each time he inched forward before wandering to the opposite side to interact with the crowd. 
You don’t even realize it’s coming to an end until the last note fades out and the lights dim, the low lighting in the place just barely showing you their silhouettes as they make their way off the stage. Chungha’s sighing dramatically the second the lights come back up, turning around to face you now that her eye candy was missing. 
“God they’re hot and talented. Do you have his number?” 
“Yeah, I do,” you mumble out, still in a daze as you slowly make your way through the huddle of people, eagerly anticipating the next group to take over and keep the party going. You needed a drink, maybe some water to quench the thirst you had growing inside of you. 
“Text him then, let him know you’re here.”
Jungkook definitely knew you were here, but maybe texting him wouldn’t be so bad. As you both get to the bar, Chungha ordering some water while you pull your phone out, someone settles in beside you in a haste. You don’t notice them at first, their palm resting on the bar top inches away from you, but when they tap their finger onto your shoulder they grab your attention. A quick glance to the side has you locking your phone instantly, forgetting the half written text meant to be sent to the man beside you. 
“Jungkook,” you breathe out, eyes wide and mouth drying up. Seeing him this close like that was so much harder than it was on stage. He’s still catching his breath from playing, ordering himself water to cool down. The tips of his hair have curled up, raked away from his face as he swipes it back, but when his nose scrunches up into a smile it brings you back to the earlier date today and the way he’d laugh at your stories. 
“I knew that was you, I just had to come make sure.” Jungkook chuckles, looking down at you with crinkled eyes. It's the first time you’ve seen him without his signature frames on, their absence opens up his face more, and you find yourself not able to maintain the normal eye contact you have with him without them on. 
“I was just about to text you to make sure you didn’t have a twin or something,” you laugh, hands fidgeting on the countertop, reaching for your water and taking a gulp. Chungha gently nudges your side, not able to contain herself as she sips her own water, trying her best to not look like she's eavesdropping. 
“No, I definitely don’t.” His voice blends in with the starting music of the next group that takes the stage. “We play On the Rox pretty often. I didn’t know you came here.”
“It’s my first time here actually. Our friend told us about this place.” You point at Chungha, holding in a laugh when she quickly inserts herself into the conversation, reaching her arm across to greet Jungkook with a handshake and a charming smile. 
“Hi, I’m Chungha. Is your lead singer single by any chance?” A snort escapes you at how forward she is, your hand coming up to cover the growing smile on your face when you notice the way Jungkook’s eyes widen at how unexpected her question is. 
He recovers quickly with a small laugh, his eyes looking over the both of you to scan the room, trying to find the blonde man in question. Jungkook spots him easily, waving him over with a knowing smile. “He is actually.”
“Score,” Chungha whispers low enough for you to hear, fluffing up her hair and adjusting her tits in her shirt before her eye candy approaches, the both of you turning around to face him. 
“Hey Yoongi, just wanted to introduce you to some people.” Jungkook rests his hand on your shoulder gently as he speaks to the singer, a soft smile on his face as he stands close. “This is Y/N.”
At the mention of your name Yoongi’s smile widens, his eyes looking up at Jungkook for a moment before locking onto you as he extends his hand out in greeting. “So you’re Y/N. Glad he finally invited you to a show.”
Jungkook clears his throat loudly, the two of them having a mental conversation that leaves Yoongi looking a little sheepish as he presses his lips together. It doesn’t take much guessing to know that he said something he shouldn’t have, exposing the fact that Jungkook obviously talked about you enough to have his friends hassle him into inviting you to a show. 
You hold back any teasing comment you might have as you nod along, barely able to say that it was nice to meet him before Chungha was swooping in for the kill and introducing herself. “Can I buy you a drink?”
Kim Chungha buying someone a drink, with her own money? She was down bad. 
With Yoongi’s attention gravitating towards your friend, it leaves you and Jungkook seemingly alone. His hand still rests on your shoulder, something he seems to realize as he slowly slides it down your arm before it comes to rest by his side. You grow to miss his touch instantly, subtly stepping a bit closer to him to close the small distance until your arm is gently pressed against his own.  
Jungkook smiles as he stares at you, noticing the uncharacteristically shy smile on your lips, how you can’t maintain eye contact, choosing to trace the petals crawling up his shoulder towards his neck instead. For the first time, he feels like he has the upper hand and he takes slight advantage of it, slyly tugging at his shirt to expose more of the tattoos he had somehow managed to keep under wraps this whole time, enjoying the way your lips press together as you avert your gaze when you know you’ve been caught staring. 
“Do you want a drink?” Jungkook breaks the silence, leaning back onto the bar top. 
“No, I'm trying to sober up, I don’t want a hangover tomorrow morning,” you laugh out, pressing your palm to your warming cheeks as you smile. If you added more alcohol to your system you could only imagine what your unfiltered self would blurt out in front of him. Your slightly buzzed self was already struggling to keep yourself together around him, you know all it would take was another shot for you to bring up how good he looked all sweaty on stage. 
“Were you guys planning on staying here all night?” he wonders, absentmindedly playing with the thick chains around his wrist. 
At his question you glance over at your friend and hum, seeing her and Yoongi huddled close as they spoke. The plan of action was usually hopping around clubs and bars until one stuck, but judging by the way she’s playing with the singer’s hair, it's safe to say she wouldn’t be going anywhere without him tonight. 
“We were but I think Yoongi hooked her already,” you chuckle, setting down your empty glass with a smile. “Do you usually stay here all night after you play?”
“Sometimes, but for the most part I end up at the convenience store down the street to stuff my face with ramen.”
“Oh that sounds good,” you hum, hands coming to pat at your stomach as you smile. The thought of slurping down warm ramen at the end of the night was enough to excite you, add Jungkook to the mix and it would be the perfect scenario to wrap up your night. 
“Do you wanna go, or do you think your friend will miss you?” he jokes, flicking his head in her direction, a smirk spreading on his face when he sees the way Yoongi’s staring at Chungha. 
“Definitely not. I’ll bet you a packet of cosmic brownies that she won’t even notice if I leave right now.” 
Jungkook does in fact get you a packet of cosmic brownies the minute you step into the convenience store, the two of you able to leave and walk all the way here without Chungha sending you a frazzled text. You know she’ll be beyond occupied with Yoongi until tomorrow morning, but Jungkook was good company so you’re not exactly opposed to the direction this night has gone in. In all honesty, being across from him as he slurps up steaming ramen, sitting on squeaky plastic chairs, illuminated by the light that filters out of the window a few feet away, beats stumbling drunk from bar to bar—for tonight at least. 
“It’s kind of alarming that neither of our friends noticed we left,” Jungkook laughs, wiping his mouth with a napkin before he's scooping up more noodles. 
You join in with his laughter, finally deeming your own noodles ready, opening up the flap to let all the steam billow out into the cool night. “Yeah, I’m gonna turn this into a life lesson for her tomorrow, but I'll let her enjoy her night.”
Jungkook hums suddenly as his phone vibrates on the table, eyes narrowing slightly as he reads the message he just recieved, his lips pulling into a smile until he’s laughing again and shaking his head. “My other bandmates just noticed my disappearing act, but only because I left before we packed up our things.”
“Oh,” you sit up straighter, “do you need to head back to help them?” You’re already gathering your things, ready to abandon your warm meal to leave. It’s not until Jungkook reaches across the table, his large palm coming to rest over your own, that you come to a pause, curious eyes looking at him and seeing the spark of humor written on his features. 
“No, it's fine. Taehyung, our guitarist, owes me for the amount of times I’ve loaded up his gear. They’ll be okay without me.” His voice is laced with reassurance, the weight of his hand lingering on top of yours for a moment longer. A smile spreads on his face as you turn your hand over in his grasp to gently wrap your fingers around his palm, thumb softly running over his knuckles before pulling away to allow yourself to eat your meal once more. 
“So, when did you guys start this band?” you ask with a small clear of your throat, leaning closer over the table to scoop some noodles into your mouth. Jungkook chuckles as you slurp them up, quickly sliding over a napkin when he spots the lingering noodle on the corner of your mouth. 
“They started the group a few years ago but I didn’t join until last year. I was roommates with Yoongi at the time and their original bass player quit so I filled in for a few shows as a favor until they found a replacement.” He stops for a moment to slurp up his own noodles, eyes staring off into the empty street as he chews before they fall onto you again, seeing the look of endearment clear on your face. “I never really wanted to be in a band, but once I joined them on stage and got to feel the rush of playing somewhere other than my bedroom, I was hooked.”
“So did they even try to find a replacement or was that just their way of luring you in?” 
Jungkook playfully scoffs at that, tongue prodding at his cheek as he straightens up in his seat, eyebrows cocking up in a way that makes you giggle. “My raw talent was all they needed to see for them to forget about trying to get a replacement.” He can barely finish his sentence before he’s laughing, the small burst of confidence morphing into the same bashfulness he’d have when you’d gush over his art pieces. The small slivers of his personality, the one you’re familiar with, help ease your silly nerves from earlier, replacing the jitters of the unknown with the airy feeling that came from being around him. 
“I mean, am I wrong? We have to be sort of talented if you actually stayed and watched.”
“Can I be honest?” you mumble out, a wry smile on your face that instantly makes his expression drop. 
“Oh god, did we really suck?”
“No!” you laugh, cheeks warming up when you see the way he’s looking at you, eyes wide with worry. “You guys were great, honestly, but I sort of panicked when I saw you up there and almost left before you could spot me.”
His laugh fills the air now, teasing and playful, not being able to fathom you doing that. “What, why?”
Without the earlier alcohol clouding your thinking, you’re able to feel the tinge of embarrassment creep up on you. Jungkook only laughs louder when you pick up your chopsticks and try to hide your shame by stuffing your face with more noodles. It doesn’t work, he’s as patient as ever as he sits back with his arms crossed, staring you down until you have no choice but to give him an answer. 
“Look, I was a little tipsy so when I saw you on stage looking like that, I kinda just chickened out and wanted to leave because I thought I would embarrass myself if you saw me.” 
Jungkook is a little too humble to know what you mean, not realizing that seeing him on stage in all his glory compared to the version of him you were used to had given you whiplash. He also can’t imagine a situation where you’d be the one embarrassing yourself, the amount of times he’s been caught in the act of admiring you, having your voice snap him out of his daydreams was enough to make him nervous about being around you. But you being on the opposite end wasn’t even a thought for him. 
“Is that why you’ve been acting like this?” A smile tugs on his lips when you look down at your empty bowl, no longer able to use your food as a distraction. He finds it endearing, deciding to pick up one of the steamed bun cakes he got and passes it your way, a soft smile pushing out his doughy cheeks when you accept it. 
“Like what?” You’re feigning ignorance now, hating that he had been able to detect your change, no matter how small. 
“Quiet, looking all shy. I’m used to being the flustered one,” he admits, recalling all the moments he would stumble over his words. The way you couldn’t make eye contact earlier, how wide your eyes were when he approached you at the bar, it seemed like your brain was fumbling as you tried to respond to him. It’s a stark contrast to the way you’d interact with him in class, confident gaze never failing in making his heart stutter in his chest. The tables have turned slightly, evening out the playing field because he can see the effect he has on you so clearly now. “Who knew all it would take was me holding a bass to have you switch up on me.”
“It’s not you playing the bass that got me like this,” you chuckle, smiling when he takes a bite of his bun, one side of his cheek bulging as he chews it. “I was just a little surprised by all of this.” Your hand motions to his arms and neck, giggling when he extends both arms out and flips them over like he has no idea what you’re talking about, playful frown on his lips when he stares at the dark ink on his arms. 
“These? They’re temporary tattoos, don’t let them fool you. I did them right before the show so they’d look fresh.” He’s full of shit, you can tell by the way he rubs his arms, the ink settled into skin, no sheen or obscene brightness that came with fake tattoos. The smirk he wears doesn’t let you believe it for a second, his hand coming up to tug at his shirt like he had earlier, sneakily showing you the tattoo you had seen crawling up his neck, being able to make out the lines more clearly outside of the dim club. 
“Oh really?” you laugh, nudging his leg under the table with your foot as he snickers, nose scrunched up while he adjusts his shirt once more and settles his arms on the table. He reaches across to give your curious eyes a better view, palms outstretched until his fingers meet yours. A small shiver racks his body as your fingers trace along his skin, eyes looking up at him for permission, and when he softly nods you slowly inch up past his wrist to make out the art on his body. Each piece is connected, woven into the next so intricately you could tell he had properly planned it out. Whether they had meaning or not, it was clear Jungkook had put a lot of thought behind it all. The proud smile on his lips never falls as you make your way up his arm, tracing flower petals, the intricate scales of a snake, the billowing clouds that get cut off when his shirt sleeve tightens around his arm too much for you to push up. 
“Why do you hide them?” you question softly, feeling the need to whisper as you continue to analyze the art of his other arm, the continuity of his previous sleeve was missing here, each piece being its individual work of art instead of telling a story, thick lines of traditional flash being easier to trace with your finger. 
Jungkook visibly shivers as you pass his elbow ditch, moving on to the reaper he had on his forearm. “I don’t hide them on purpose,” he mumbles, growing to enjoy the slight ticklish feeling of your fingers on his skin, hoping you continue to admire his tattoos to keep the contact with you. “I only ever wear short sleeve shirts during the summer, or on stage because it gets hot up there. But the weather has been cold lately and I enjoy layering up. I promise I’m not trying to disguise myself.”
That much was true, Jungkook was always wearing hoodies or oversized long sleeves that concealed his arms and considering the tattoo on his neck was barely creeping over his collar it’s not a shock you never noticed it before. 
“Are you sure? Seems like you’re trying to live a double life to me. I kinda dig it tho,” you giggle, smiling when he looks over at you with raised eyebrows, a spark evident in his eyes as he perks up. You’re fiddling with his bracelet now, slowly making your way down to his palms when Jungkook lifts them up and intertwines your fingers together. 
“Oh yeah?” His smile widens when you give his palm a gentle squeeze, the warmth of his skin making your stomach flip as you stare into his eyes. 
“Yeah,” you sigh. “Adorable artist by day, sexy rockstar by night.”
“I’m not a rockstar,” he snorts, his thumb softly rubbing your knuckles. 
“But you agree, you think you’re sexy?” And there it was, the familiar words and confident gaze Jungkook was accustomed to seeing from you. You inch closer, head tilted slightly with a teasing smile on your lips, playfulness written all over your features. 
“I thought I was cute,” he shoots back, eyes crinkling as he recalls all the times you’d call him that, playfully pinching the strands of his hair in class when they’d cover his eyes, muttering the compliment each time he’d smile at you, just loud enough for him to hear and blush at but you had yet to call him sexy until tonight. 
“You’re both, it’s the best of both worlds.”
“I’ll take it,” he laughs, wanting to get even closer to you, scooch his chair over or flip the table out of the way entirely but he decides that's a little too much, content sitting here despite the dropping temperature. The chill of autumn is more noticeable now as you sit here, no longer warmed up by the meal you had earlier, it's evident in the goosebumps that trail up Jungkook’s arms and the shiver you release with a small laugh. 
“Do you live far from here?” It’s an innocent question in theory, exactly the way Jungkook takes it as he shakes his head in response. 
“No, my place is pretty close actually. Do you?”
“I don’t live too far either. If you want, we can walk to mine or take a taxi if you’re too cold.”
“I don’t mind walking you home.” He smiles and you can’t find it in yourself to be upset that he hadn’t caught on to the fact that you were inviting him over. You wanted to spend more time with him, preferably outside of the cold, but the additional minutes spent on your walk would be good enough until you could see him tomorrow morning. 
The innocent question of yours doesn’t fully register as he cleans up the table, not even as you share bites of your cosmic brownie with him before leaving. The gears in Jungkook’s head finally click a few minutes into the walk, hands laced together as you make your way up the sidewalk, making soft conversation. It’s not like he wasn’t well versed with girls, but more often than not he needed a little more straightforwardness to get himself to kick into action. So as you near his block, shoulders brushing together in an attempt to keep warm while you share hushed laughter, Jungkook decides it’s his chance to make a move. 
It’s not until your body shivers and you jokingly say you should have taken a taxi that Jungkook speaks up. “My place is down the street.” He slows his pace, pointing down the road with his thumb when you stare up at him. “Do you want to come over to warm up?”
Your place isn’t much further, and you know that going over to his would only mean you’d be walking home later in even colder weather, but you were not going to turn this down. As Chungha so kindly put it, this is fate, and you don’t fuck with fate. 
Jungkook stares down at you with his top teeth nibbling on his lip, looking a little nervous for asking, hoping he hadn’t come across as sleazy when that wasn’t his intention. But he tries to keep cool, knowing that just because you come in doesn’t mean anything would happen. But what if something did? It makes his skin tingle and his heart hiccup, moreso when your thumb gently rubs against his knuckles, squeezing his palm in reassurance. And then you’re muttering out a response with a sweet smile on your lips, “Sure, I’d love to.”
He hears the giggle you let out as he freezes momentarily, snapping out of it with a smile before turning down the street and leading you towards his place. There's a subtle pep in his step that you take note of, biting back a smile as you hold his hand a little tighter, walking a little faster to get out of the cold as his building approaches. Jungkook doesn’t release your hand as he enters his code, not even as you step into the elevator, riding up to his floor in comfortable silence. He only lets go once you step foot into his actual place, mainly because you start to step away, your curiosity making you want to take his place in. 
It’s a cozy studio apartment, walls covered like a gallery full of different pieces of art mixed in with music posters in differing sizes. His bed is pushed towards the corner by a window, enough space to allow a nightstand on one side and his desk on the other, overflowing with his art supplies. His sketchpad is laid out on it, opened on the drawing of you he had started earlier today, a little more detail on it than before, letting you know he had come home and worked on it some more before going out. 
“Do you want something to drink? I can make coffee, or anything warm.” His voice grabs your attention, turning to see him approaching his kitchen counter, a soft smile on his face as he allows you to snoop. 
“Coffee would be great.” It’s warmer in his apartment, his heater slowly filling up the space to a comfortable temperature, but you could never deny caffeine. 
He occupies himself by filling up the kettle, turning his head to glance over his shoulder and see the way you make your way over to the other corner of his place. He has a full set up in this corner, a record player with speakers on either side placed on top of a storage unit that holds records and CDs, his bass resting on a stand beside it. It’s different from the one he wore on stage, this one was a shade of blue and white with a few stickers placed on the back of it, a little rough around the edges from use, not the shiny black one he had on earlier. When he catches you staring at it he makes his way over to you, watching how your fingers gently trace the neck of it with a smile. 
“This is the first bass I bought as a teenager so I keep it safe here.” 
“So you won’t be smashing this on stage anytime soon then?” you joke, staring back at him with a smirk as you step away from the instrument and move closer to him. 
“I’ll save that for when I’m an actual rockstar, and definitely with a bass that’s not as cherished as that one.”
“Is that what you want to do?” you wonder, curious to know where Jungkook ranked his love for music and being on stage. He was so very clearly gifted with artistic ability, being able to transform simple images on paper into something astounding, but maybe that wasn’t what he actually craved from life. 
“Nah, I don’t think so,” he sighs, his eyes staring at the walls surrounding you, bouncing from the works of art to the bands he had tacked around. “If that's how it plays out I’m not against it because I really do enjoy it, but it's more of a hobby for me. Making a career out of my art is all I’ve ever thought about doing since I was young and my heart has never strayed from it. What about you?”
“I don’t know,” you sigh. “I love art, but I don’t think I’d love it if I had to use it to make money. Maybe if I thought I had more potential with it I’d pursue it more seriously. Until then, I’m okay with filling my units up with art labs, I mean it landed me with you as a partner so I think it's going pretty well.” 
Jungkook doesn’t even try to hide his smile at your words, his hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck as he laughs softly. His eyes never leave yours as you step closer to him, fingers reaching out to toy with the material of his shirt, tracing the pattern of it before fiddling with the buttons. The beating of his heart is felt in his throat as he swallows, rattling in his chest so loud he wonders if you could hear it, decides to speak to mask it just in case. 
“You have potential,” he chokes out in a whisper, hands clenching at his sides when you slide your palms up, smoothing over his shirt until you reach the collar. A shaky breath is exhaled into the air when your fingers gently touch the tattoo on his neck, finally able to admire it up close, appreciating the detail put into the petals of the chrysanthemum. Jungkook cranes his neck out to give you more space, enjoying the soft touches too much to pull away. 
“Pretty,” you murmur, too lost in your thoughts to realize you had uttered it outloud but Jungkook hears it perfectly thanks to your close proximity and it makes his skin warm up. 
“You’re the one with potential.” You inch back a bit to stare up at him, the earlier effect he had on you long gone now that you were comfortable, your eyes fluttering to each of his before landing on his lips and coming back up. “I’d pay to have any of your art on display at my place.”
“Really?” he wonders, voice quiet but laced with elation at the idea of you thinking his art was worthy of money. 
“Yeah, whatever your favorite thing to draw is, I’d love to put it on my wall.”
Jungkook’s eyes scan your face, following the slope of your nose before landing on your lips, seeing the small smile etched onto them. He’s only ever been quiet and reserved around you, allowing you to have your fun as you teased and flirted with him, but now that you’re in his place, staring up at him with eyes full of want, he feels the confidence brewing up within him. It starts slow at first, slight nerves tingling his skin as he takes a breath, morphing into a simmering heat as he feels a confession settling onto his tongue. 
“You know what my favorite feature of yours to draw is?” It’s a low rasp, a quiet question that leaves you desperate for an answer.
“Your lips,” he mumbles, his hand slowly coming up to cup your jaw gently. His palm is cool against your skin, thumb tracing the bottom of your lower lip, pulling the flesh down before letting it bounce back. “I know you catch me staring at them all the time but I can’t help it.” 
That much was true, Jungkook’s tendency to be caught in a day dream trance was not new to you, sometimes he’d be staring at your legs but more often than not he was transfixed on your lips. “The curve of your cupid’s bow, the way they shine in the light when you wear that pretty lipgloss. I could spend hours trying to perfect them on paper but I don’t think I’d do them justice. You’re a work of art Y/N.” He whispers the last part of it and you feel it deep within you, drying out your throat as you find yourself at a loss for words. Maybe it was a blessing that Jungkook never reciprocated your flirting before because if he ever came at you with these words during class, you’d melt into a puddle and stare at him with googly eyes the entire lesson. 
A small smirk pulls his lips up when he sees how his words have affected you, his half lidded eyes staring down at you in a way you’ve never seen before and it leaves you weak once more. “I wanna know what they taste like,” he breathes out softly, inching closer ever so slightly, his thumb once again tracing your bottom lip. “Can I?”
At his question the kettle sounds off, the bubbling of water and beeping letting you know the water for coffee was done but you’re not ready for him to pull away yet. Your hands tighten around his shirt, urging him to not walk away. You’ve been wanting this to happen since the moment you met him and you’d be damned if coffee would be what ruined it all for you. 
“Kiss me, please.”
Jungkook doesn’t know how many times he’s dreamt of you uttering those words, and now having it become reality, he wastes no time closing the narrow distance between you. His lips are tender against yours, gently pressing into you as his hand remains cradling your jaw, finger softly caressing the skin as you kiss him back. It’s a slow smack of your lips together, pulling back briefly as you stare up at him through hooded eyes, but now that you’ve had a taste you don’t want to pull away again. 
His free hand grips onto your waist as you reconnect your lips, fingers digging into your skin when he senses the urgency flowing off you, your own hands slipping up and around his neck until you’re carding your fingers through his hair. That’s when you hear the first sound from him, a low groan against your mouth that shoots straight to your core, and you want to hear it again. 
It becomes clear that although Jungkook was quiet in day to day life, he was not shy about being vocal in these situations. The hiss he releases as you yank on his hair, the subtle groan into your mouth when he feels your tongue tracing the seam of his lips, to the soft curse words spoken into the air as you bite down on his lower lip and let the flesh snap back. 
“Well,” you mumble, pecking his lips once more as you twirl a strand of his hair around your finger. “How do I taste?”
His hands tighten their grip on you at your words, lips shiny as he slowly licks them over with a slight tilt to his head. “Sweet,” he murmurs, nudging your noses together, his lips ghosting over yours in a teasing touch. “I bet the rest of you is sweet too.”
You choke down a gasp, caught in your throat, not expecting the bold words to come from Jungkook’s mouth or the effect they’d have on you. It makes your stomach flip and your mind spin as you imagine it. “Why don’t you find out?” There’s an underlying challenge lacing your words, urging him to do something about it, to do anything he wanted because you were more than willing, and Jungkook is never the type to back down from a challenge. 
He chuckles softly, kissing you once more as he begins leading you towards his bed a few feet away, the coffee now long forgotten, no longer needed as you warm each other up with roaming hands and shared gasps. You can feel the way his lips curl into a smile against you when you squeal in surprise as his hands grip your waist, lifting you onto his bed properly. The soft sheets are felt against your legs as you slide up, resting against the pillows he has set up against his headboard while he hovers over you. When he pulls away from you he takes a moment to take the scene in, seeing you nestled into his sheets like you belonged there, looking up at him with lust filled eyes and swollen lips.
“God, you have no idea what you do to me,” he groans softly, large palm gently touching your neck and feeling the racing pulse of your heart against his thumb. His knees are slotted in between your own, bunching up the material of your skirt until he can see the small sliver of your red underwear beneath it. With a quiet giggle you’re lifting your leg up, nudging against his thigh until you feel the slowly growing bulge in his jeans.
“Hm, I think I have some idea.” 
His eyes playfully narrow at you, jaw ticking out as he huffs out a teasing laugh, enjoying the way you join in, morphing into a breathless sigh of his name when he kisses down your neck. Your hands meet in his hair once again, scratching at his scalp in a way that makes him shiver against you, distracts him momentarily as he licks and nips at your sensitive skin. 
The turn of events that lead to this moment is not what he expected, ever, so as his hands reach the hem of your shirt, he hesitates for a moment. You notice it when his lips pause their downward descent, craning your head back slightly to see the unsure look on his eyes. But you want this, so your hands pull away from his hair and meet his on your stomach, slowly pulling your shirt up for him and smiling when he looks up at you with curious eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, Jungkook. I’m sure.”
That reassurance was all he needed to kick back into action, pulling your shirt off of you and revealing the matching red bra you had underneath, the swells of your chest rising and falling with each breath as you lay there and let him admire you. You bite down on your lower lip while you lift yourself up slightly, gripping his own shirt and slowly tugging it up until he got the hint and helped you yank it off fully, revealing his golden skin and a mixture of more tattoos you had never seen before. Your fingers curl around his ribs as you marvel at the rich black shading the large moth across his sternum, following the curve of its wings before moving on to the following pieces in similar styles.
“I think you’re the work of art here Jungkook,” you sigh, leaning forward to kiss his skin, smiling against it when he rakes his fingers through your hair at the action. Your hands fall to the buckle of his belt, fiddling with the metal until you’re able to undo it, his button and zipper following suit and he laughs at your eagerness. 
“Wanna make you feel good.” His cock jumps at your statement, pushing against the denim and you feel it beneath your palm, looking up at him with a teasing smirk. “Can I?” you repeat his question from earlier, batting your eyes at him as if you weren’t asking for permission to do something sinful.
“Hm, I still want to get a proper taste of you first babe.” Still, he allows you to tug his jeans down, helping you slide them off his thighs until he’s left in his black briefs, kneeling in front of you with a cocky smile on his lips when he sees the way you focus on his cock tenting the fabric. “Lean back for me.”
He doesn’t need to tell you twice, settling back onto the pillows once more as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your skirt, pulling the flimsy article of clothing off of you entirely, groaning under his breath when he spots the small wet patch on the front of your thong. His mind was currently whirling at the visual, only worsening when you reach behind yourself to unhook your bra, the straps sliding off your arms as you slowly peel it off and let it drop onto the floor beside the bed. Any teasing comment you were about to say gets swallowed down with a kiss as he closes the distance, large palm sliding up your torso until he has a handful of your tits in them, giving them a squeeze that leaves you moaning into his mouth.
“Ah, Jungkook,” you whine out when his fingers pinch your nipple, gently tugging at the hardened bud. He smirks against your skin as he trails kisses down your neck, messy smacks of his lips as he passes your collar bone and slides further down your body, his warm breath fanning across your other breast.
“Sensitive?” he teases, cocking up an eyebrow at you before he’s kissing around your neglected nipple until finally wrapping his lips around it and humming. The warmth of his mouth makes you keen, jutting your chest forward for more as you place your palm over his head, groaning when he pops off and flicks his tongue across the pebbled nub. “Are you this sensitive anywhere else?”
“M-maybe,” you gasp, looking down at him as he continues down your torso. He was your living wet dream, from the charming smile on his lips when you stare at him dazed, to the way his fingers dig into your thighs to pull you further down the bed, you want to remember this moment forever. 
He’s just the right mix of rough and loving, fingers kneading your flesh after he slides your soaked panties off, groaning at the sight of your sodden folds on display for him, dripping and begging for him to get a taste. Jungkook settles between your thighs, staring at your pussy with lust filled eyes, it catches you by surprise when he leans forward and presses a firm kiss against your bundle of nerves, chuckling slightly when you gasp as the feeling. 
“I think you are,” he teases, slowly flicking the top of his tongue across your clit, reveling in the shuddering breath you release as your back relaxes against the bed. His hands slowly rub against your thighs as he takes his time, wanting to get to know every inch of you from this perspective. The way you roll your hips up for more, how your hands glide down your own body to tangle into his hair, the breathless moans of his name; he wants to store this memory under lock and key in his brain forever. 
Jungkook hums against your folds, loving the taste of you on his tongue, heart fluttering when your hand releases his hair to lace your hand with his as you moan at the pleasure. 
“Wanna leave you messy,” he mumbles as he pulls away, lips shiny with your arousal, glistening in the light of his room. A curious hum escapes your lips as you lift your head to stare at him, seeing his free hand spreading your lips apart before he’s spitting onto them, smirking when you gasp at the lewd action. The contrast of his spit on your warm skin sends a tingle up your spine, mouth dropping in awe when he digs back in, eating you out with more determination. 
His nose presses against your skin as he sucks on your clit, finding the perfect rhythm that leaves you mewling on his sheets. He smirks against you when your fingers tighten around his hand, eyes looking up at you, focused on the way your boobs jiggle as you pant from his ministrations. He can feel the way his chin gets wet as another gush of arousal spills out of you and when his finger comes up to circle your entrance he lets out a satisfied sound as the slick coats his digit. With no resistance, his fingers slip into you, the warmth of your walls wrapping around him as he slowly pumps his fingers, leaving him softly rutting into the sheets as he imagines how you’ll feel wrapped around his cock. 
The waves of pleasure wash over you quickly, rolling in with each tantalizing flick of his tongue and when he adds a second finger into the mix the delicious stretch fills you with excitement. The tips of his fingers curve up just right, nudging against the rough patch inside of you until you’re gasping again. A deep groan vibrates against your skin when your walls tighten around his fingers as he adds a third, your body eagerly inviting him in as you arch your back at the sensation. Jungkook takes great enjoyment in watching you fall apart, feeling you melt at his touch, that much is made clear as he moans like he was the one being pleasured, and it further fuels your approaching climax.
“Gonna cum,” you choke out, gasping as you stare down at him between your legs. Maybe it was because you’ve been wanting this—or some version of it—for so long but you can’t find it in yourself to feel embarrassed by how quickly he was able to break you down into a whimpering mess with his mouth. 
Jungkook’s finger’s quicken up their pace at your words, determination set in his brows as he pulls back, lips shiny as he smirks up at you. “C’mon, be a good girl and let me taste you.” The way he says it, eyes piercing into you as he latches back onto your clit, it makes your eyes roll back into your skull, the wet squelch of his fingers pumping into you mixing with the sinful sounds of your desperate moans. You’d never expect those words to come tumbling out of him, the need to do as he asks taking over, wanting to be as good as he says, and how could you ever deny him? 
A shout of his name is all you can say before you’re cumming, a flash of white displayed against your lids as you squeeze your eyes shut, hips unable to wiggle away from him when he pins you down with your connected hands, forcing you to ride out your orgasm completely until you’re whimpering and gasping on the bed. 
“So sweet,” he mumbles, pulling away from your messy folds with a look of awe on his face. His eyes are still focused on his fingers lazily pumping into you, admiring the way they shine with your slick coating them, feeling the pulsing of your sensitive walls around him as he gives your pussy a final lick before slowly crawling up your trembling body to stare down at you. “Have a taste.”
His wet lips reconnect with yours instantly, slowly creeping his tongue into your mouth while you hum in surprise, moaning into it as his tongue tangles with yours, passing the lingering taste in his mouth to you in an intimate display that left your sensitive core aching for more. Without pulling apart, your hands trail up his sides, gliding across his skin before venturing down his front. You can feel the way his muscles tense at the ticklish sensation, your fingertips ghosting across his skin until you’re toying with the hem of his briefs before slowly slipping your palm inside. He grunts against you, finally pulling away with a pant just as you wrap your hand around his length, thick and heavy in your palm while you slide it up, feeling the oozing beads of precum coating your skin as you circle his head with the flat of your thumb. 
“Wanna taste you too,” you mumble, still breathless from it all but the flicker of excitement is evident in you as you begin kissing his jaw, down his neck to suck a small blossom of purple into his skin. The ache makes him hiss, eyes fluttering shut when your palm squeezes around him slightly as you slide up. 
“Fuck,” he groans. “Y-yeah, okay.”
His agreement is all you need to pull your hands out of his briefs, pressing them flat against his chest to flip him over, letting him rest his back onto the pillows against the headboard as you settle between his thighs with hunger swirling in your eyes. Jungkook looks pretty like this, strands of his hair framing his face as he stares at you, head tilted with a small smile tugging at his lips while he contemplates your next move. His head falls back slightly as you let your hands trail down his skin once more, feeling the twitch of his stomach when you run your finger along his length over the material of his briefs. There’s clear enjoyment on his face as he allows you to take your time because it gives him a chance to admire you, to see the way your eyes widen slightly when you finally tug down his underwear, his cock springing out at no longer being restrained.
“Of course you have a big dick,” you huff, tip of your tongue running along the bottom of your teeth while you take it in. The prominent veins trailing up the body of it only accentuate his size, guiding your eyes up to the bulbous pink tip, pearls of precum dripping and begging for your attention.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he laughs out, biting down on his lower lips when you lift your palm up to your mouth and spit into it.
“It means,” you start, reaching forward with your messy hand and wrapping it around his base. “That you’re the perfect package, so why wouldn’t you have the perfect cock?” If Jungkook had a response to that, it dies in his throat the minute you start pumping his length, the slick of your saliva aiding the glide. Jungkook’s hands fist the sheets beside him when your thumb rubs the underside of his cock, jaw dropping open in a gasp while you lean forward in your kneeled position, mouth just inches away from his head. The warmth of your breath tickles his skin, a tender kiss pressed to his mushroom tip before you’re slowly opening up your lips and taking him in.
“S-shit,” he rasps, fighting the urge to thrust up into your mouth as your tongue curves underneath his cock, sliding deeper into your mouth. You repeat the motion, sliding down a bit before coming back up, collecting enough spit in your mouth to coat his length each time until it was pooling around the base of his cock, dripping down the side and leaving it as messy as he had left you earlier.
“Feel good?” you breathe as you pop off his length, giving him a sinful smile while your hands continue their movements, twisting in tandem in the perfect rhythm that left him feeling like he was floating. 
“Yeah, so good.” You feel the spark of pride in your chest when his voice trembles, leaning back over to wrap your lips around his tip only, giving it your undivided attention while your palm tightens its grip slightly. His thighs tense on either side of you as he slowly ruts up, no longer able to fight back his urges when you were making him feel this good. He groans at the visual in front of him, the slurps of your mouth sucking him in, how your lashes flutter while you sink down onto his length, the mess of drool on your chin and before he knows it he’s lifting a hand up and coming to place it behind your head. There’s no pressure behind it, simply his fingers resting on your hair, but you can feel the temptation he has by the way his fingertips briefly tighten around your strands. With a flicker of your gaze, you’re staring up at him through your lashes, giving him a quick nod with a mouthful of his cock as confirmation for him to do what he wanted.
Jungkook lets out a shuttered breath as his fingers grip your hair with confidence, yanking at it slightly and smirking when you hum around his length at the sting to your scalp. Your hand falls from his cock, settling over his thigh to let him have full control, taking in a slow breath when you feel him begin to push you down. He takes in every sensation, the pull of your lips pulled taut around him, the glide of your tongue alongside him, the way your nails dig into his thigh just as his tip nudges your throat, your muscles spasming around him for a moment before he’s pulling you off and allowing you to gasp in a wet breath. There’s a smirk on your lips that lets him know you enjoy it, the slow simmer he feels inside spreading when you allow him to do it again, and again, enjoying the messy way you choke on his cock too much to stop.
“God,” he groans out, thick with desire. “Who knew all it would take to have you acting like this was me on stage showing off my tattoos.” The confidence at the change of it all was swirling within him, never imagining the same eyes that would stare at him until his cheeks were red would be looking up at him full of tears while you gave him a blowjob. Seeing you so pliant in his grasp, the fiery, flirty version of you broken apart to reveal this image, it makes him chuckle darkly at how clear it is that the both of you were hiding aspects of yourself without knowing it.
His hands pull you off his cock when he starts to feel his orgasm beginning to spark inside of him, not wanting to cum in your mouth before he gets to feel your walls around his cock. Your lips are swollen and shiny as you sit back up, biting down on your lower lip as you rest your palms on either side of his hips and lean closer to his face. “Honestly, even with your cute turtleneck you could do whatever you wanted to me.” Your lips ghost over his own as you speak, breathing out a laugh as he leans forward in an attempt to kiss you, missing you when you inch back.
“Oh yeah?” he chuckles, his hand coming up to cup behind your neck, not letting you inch away before his lips are pressing against yours. It’s messy, the drool on your lips coating his own but he loves it anyway, groaning when you slip your lips open and lick your way into his mouth. Jungkook was only teasing, he knew your crush on him wasn’t purely based on the version you’re seeing tonight, having seen first hand how much you’d compliment him when he showed up to class in new glasses or told him how cute his smile was on a daily, but he can’t lie and say he doesn’t enjoy the slight flustered way you had behaved tonight.
“I can do whatever I want?” he wonders, pulling away and staring at you with hooded eyes, thumb rubbing along your jaw as he loosens his hold on your neck.
“Mhm,” you confirm sweetly, squealing when he suddenly flips you both over, the pillows cushioning your head while you stare up at Jungkook hovering over you. His dark hair hangs beside his face, nose scrunched up cutely at your giggle, eyes sparkling with mischief and desire so strong it makes your tummy flip. 
“Can I fuck you?” he questions softly, eyes flicking down to your lips and back up. His cock rests on your folds, slowly sliding against them as he ruts into you, lips pulling into a smirk when you groan at the sensation. Your fingers grip his sides when the head of his cock nudges against your swollen clit, hips rolling up to meet his thrusts, nodding with a small gasp. “No, baby. I need words.”
Shutting your eyes briefly, you try to calm your racing mind with a slow breath, opening them back up to stare directly at him. “Fuck me Jungkook, please.” He savors the words after you say them, breathing out a sigh when you lift your head up slightly to press a tender kiss to his lips. “I want it.”
A groan fills the air, fingers digging into his skin when he speeds up his thrusts, grinding against you with a tiny curse uttered under his breath before he’s pulling away. His body leans across to the side, scrambling over you to reach his nightstand in the corner, yanking the drawer open to pull out a small foil packet, biting the corner of it as he resituates himself over you with a boyish smile. You giggle at his obvious enthusiasm, biting down on your lower lip while you watch him tear the condom wrapper open, eyes falling onto his cock when he slowly fists it before rolling it on. Jungkook takes his time as he does so, eyes looking up at you with a smirk etched onto his lips, sighing softly as his hands meet the base of his cock. 
“Ready?” he breathes out, hands settling beside you as he leans over your body, nudging your noses together with a shared smile. When you nod, mumbling out a confirmation, he leads his length towards your dripping center, feeling the tight ring of muscle as he slowly inches forward. Your breath hitches in your throat at the sensation, palms gliding across his back as the head of his cock breaches your entrance. The slight stretch in the beginning sends a shock of excitement through you, moaning slightly when he pushes in further, sliding in with ease from how wet you are. 
Jungkook feels like he’s on cloud nine right now, the warmth of your walls enveloping him perfectly, tightening around him each time you’d gasp when he’d get deeper inside of you. His jaw is slack as he takes it all in, letting out a small groan of your name when he finally bottoms out, nuzzled deep within you, and he swears his body trembles slightly when he takes a glance between your bodies, seeing the way you’re connected now. Somehow you want him impossibly closer, hooking your legs around his slim waist to keep him close before he even has a chance to move, adjusting to his size as your walls flutter around him. 
“Fuck,” you shudder, mouthing kisses down his jaw to bring him back to reality. “Feel so full.” There’s a slight slur to your voice now, heady with pleasure, drunk off Jungkook entirely and it fills him with a sense of pride to hear you sound so needy for him like this. The groan he releases vibrates his throat as you kiss it, wet smacks to his warming skin that just make it harder for him to unscramble the words in his brain, and when your lips ghost over the earlier hickey you painted onto his skin his hips have a mind of their own and inch back, thrusting into you suddenly. A gasp hits his skin at the motion, your fingernails pressing into his back as he repeats it once more, pulling out a little more each time until he is slowly rocking into you.
“Tell me,” he pants, his finger tapping the bottom of your chin to get you to look up at him. “How do you want it?” His brow is cocked up in question, lips shining back as he runs his tongue along them. “Soft and slow?” His thrusts match his words, fucking into you sensually, reaching deep within you, his cock nudging against the best part inside of you until you were gasping. It makes you cling onto him tightly, feeling each deliberate roll of his hips, a slow heat of comfort and pleasure spreading through you until your skin is tingling at his touch. 
“Or rough and messy?” You have no time for the words to settle in your mind before he’s changing up the tempo, rearing his hips back before thrusting forward, skin smacking together and filling up his room. A strained moan leaves your lips, quickly swallowed down by a kiss as he closes the small distance between you, each gasp of yours fueling his hips until he’s fluidly pistoning into you. His cock fills you up deliciously, stretching you out until your walls are molding around him as if he belonged there. Each rough rock forward has him hitting your patch of nerves perfectly, cock curving just right inside of you, turning your thoughts into mush, every single cell in your body screaming for more.
“Like this,” you choke out, pulling apart with a wet smack, a string of saliva breaking between you. “God, just like this.” Your head is thrown back now and Jungkook takes full advantage to even out the playing field and give you a hickey of your own. The second his lips press into your neck your hand is coming to tangle into his hair, groaning softly as he nips and sucks your tender flesh. Your walls tighten around him at the new stimulation, your warmth sucking him back in with each thrust, greedy for more and he gives you exactly what you want. He hums against your neck when he feels another gush of your arousal drip out of you, coating your thighs, the wet squelch of your pussy soaking his cock getting louder, blending in with your soft cries in a perfect mix.
“Dirty girl,” he groans out, tip of his tongue flicking against the purple splotch beneath your ear, enjoying the way you shudder at the ticklish feeling. His hand fists the sheet beside you as he speeds up, balls smacking into you each time from the force, his eyes falling onto your tits to admire them as they jiggle with each thrust. His other hand comes up to squeeze your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers until your back is arching up, the small jolt of pleasure spreading through like a shock of electricity. 
“You like getting fucked like this?” he questions, knowing the answer very well by the look on your face. Your eyes are dazed as you stare at him, brows pinched together into a beautiful scowl while he continues his rough pace, tightening your legs around him and rolling your hips up in time. 
“Mm, want it harder.” There’s slight humor laced in your voice as you bite down on your bottom lip, feeling the skip in your heart as he narrows his eyes at you playfully, tongue prodding at his cheek like he did earlier as he shakes his head in thought. 
“Oh, you want it harder?” he teases, his hips coming to a complete stop before he’s pulling out entirely. You don’t have time to complain over the sudden empty feeling, his large hands gripping your hips so tightly it dimples the skin, flipping you over with ease onto your front. Jungkook chuckles as you turn your head around to stare at him, feeling his hands scoop under you to haul you up onto your hands and knees properly. 
“I can fuck you harder, pretty girl.” A mirth smile is on his lips while he kneels behind you, knees pushing your legs further apart, palm coming down to glide up your back until he’s pressing down to bend you over fully. Your mind’s spinning at the gentle pet name he had called you, heart warming in your chest in an adorable way that doesn’t match the raunchy events transpiring, but you bask in it for a second, coming out of it when your chest presses into his sheets. His palm doesn’t ease up until your hands are planted beside your head, cheek pressed to the side.
The sheets rustle as you tighten your hold on them, letting out a stuttering breath when you try to calm your racing heart at the tone he had used. Your skin breaks out into goosebumps as he trails his hand back down your body, over the curve of your waist, down to your butt where he softly palms your flesh. A small groan fills the air when his hands slip down to your thighs, feeling the mess coating your skin, showing him just how much you want him. With bated breath, he fists his cock once more, leading it to your heat and sliding in with a smooth thrust, the wet squelch blending in with your raspy moan when you feel how much deeper he reaches you in this position. 
“Shit, Jungkook—ah.” He gives you exactly what you asked for, large hands gripping your hips tightly to prevent you from going anywhere, hips thrusting into you with enough force to make his bed frame rattle, but his eyes were glued to the visual of his cock splitting you open. His jaw clenches slightly as he focuses on the bounce of your ass each time he rocked forward, the resounding smack of skin filling up his room. Jungkook can’t hold back the moan of your name when he spots how you’re creaming his cock, adding more mess to all of it, but this is what you wanted, rough and messy, so he’s keeping his word. 
“How’s that for harder?” he drawls out, tongue coming out to swipe at his lip, feeling the way your thighs tremble against his own. 
Words leave your mind for a minute, the speed of his thrusts turning you into jello as he pounds into you, the feeling of his cock robbing you of your voice. Jungkook can see his effect on you easily, scooping an arm under your hips to hold you steady when your form starts to falter, and you squeal as he lifts you up, angling your hips higher, tip of his cock nudging different parts inside of you that made your walls tighten around him. 
“You feel so good Kook,” you whine out, knuckles turning white as you tighten your hold on his sheets, wrinkling them in your gasp. Your cheek is smushed into the bed but he can make out your words just fine, the neediness laced into each syllable makes him want to give you more, sliding the hand around your hips to meet your sensitive clit. Your reaction is immediate, gasping lewdly as his calloused finger finds your swollen nub, rubbing circles in time with his thrusts and smirking when your hips twitch in his grasp. 
“Yeah?” he rasps, never slowing his pace, his own stomach tightening when he feels the way your walls flutter around him. “Am I gonna ruin you for everyone else? Make you dream about me fucking you like this?”
His words have their desired effect on you, crying out as you start to rut back onto him, your desperation to cum growing inside if you, striking a match within you until a steady fire is spreading. From Jungkook’s perspective, desperation looks good on you, leaves your skin sweaty and glowing in the light, makes your voice breathy as you moan out his name like a mantra, eyes screwed shut as you crumble into the sheets with his hand holding you up. 
“Yes, fuck. I’m only gonna want you, j-just you.” Your confession makes his chest tighten, his own pleasure crawling up his spine, sparking up every nerve ending, making his brain foggy until all he can think about is you you you. 
“Me too, pretty girl,” he groans out, speeding up the flick of his fingers, fucking you with more urgency to send you both over the edge. Your body tenses up as you focus on the pleasure, mouth opening up in a silent gasp as the feeling overwhelms you, pushing you over with a final flick that sends you shuddering beneath him as you cum for a second time tonight. 
Jungkook marvels at the way your body reacts to him, hips twitching in his grasp as you lift your face up from the sheets to gasp in a breath when his pace never slows, seeking out his own pleasure as it floods his system. 
“Fuck, fuck—“ he chants, raspy and trembling. The tingles of oversensitivity flare up inside of you but you bask in it, mewling softly under your breath as he surges deeper into your pulsing walls and cums with a raspy groan of your name. His heavy breathing fills the air, hips pressed flush against you, and you’re expecting him to pull out but he seems to have other plans in store. A choked moan is ripped out of you as his fingers come back to life, sliding up your sodden folds and enjoying the way you tremble under his touch. 
Jungkook leans over your weak form until his lips are pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder, feeling the warmth of your skin. The tenderness of his kiss doesn’t match the quick figure eights he rubs into your clit, thighs shaking as you debate running from the sharp pleasure. 
“You wanted it messy baby, make me messy again.” His words go straight to your core, stomach hiccuping as you gasp and moan, the overwhelming pleasure building up until you have no choice but to take it. Jungkook continues to press soft kisses to your skin as he praises you, a final flick of his fingers is what breaks the dam as you cum a final time. He groans against your skin when your walls clamp around him, arousal gushing out of you and coating his dick, dripping down your thighs until his sheets are messy from it all. Only then does he pull out. “Good girl.”
He slowly helps you lower yourself onto his bed, choosing to lick his fingers clean before he’s disposing of the condom and coming back to your defeated body on his sheets. “C’mon, let's get you cleaned up.” His voice is soft now, a gentle smile on his face that you see as he flips you over, fingers soothing your skin. 
“You can’t do that,” you scoff, finger coming up to prod at his chest. 
“Do what?”
“Fucking destroy me and then act all cute.” That earns you a laugh from him, nose scrunching up in that way you always love and it makes your heart flutter in your chest. 
“Yes I can,” he argues, slowly hauling you up to sit. “Do you want to use my shower?”
You hum under your breath, distracted for a moment as your eyes focus on the ink on his skin once more. You could use a shower, but having to walk home in this weather with wet hair was asking to get yourself sick. “I can shower at my place.”
Jungkook’s eyes look away from you instantly, pushing away the slightly dejected feeling that settles into his stomach and forcing himself to speak properly. Why was it so easy for him to talk your ear off while buried inside of you but his mind can’t formulate a sentence to invite you to stay. With a small clear of his throat, his eyes find yours again, uncertainty swirling in them as he speaks, “You can stay the night…I’d like it if you stayed the night.”
Your hands come up to cup his cheeks as you smile, that funny feeling in your chest spreading and making you feel giddy as you stare at him. “Well, if that’s what you’d like, I’m staying.”
Jungkook allows you to shower first, taking his time to finish up the coffee he promised you earlier as well as leaving some clothes for you to sleep in once you come out, also taking the liberty to swap his bed sheets because his current ones would need to be cleaned. It feels domestic to be bundled up in his clothing, sipping coffee in his bedroom while you admire more of the art on his walls, hearing him in the shower a few feet away. 
When he finally emerges from the bathroom, you do a double take, seeing him exiting with a long sleeve and sweats, brown hair falling over his forehead and his signature frames back onto his face. It was a softer looking version of the man that had walked in, but as he rolls up the sleeves of his pullover, the black ink meeting your eyes once more, it blends the two versions perfectly. 
“What?” he wonders when he catches your gaze, charming smile on his lips as he settles onto his bed a few feet away from you. 
“Nothing, you’re just cute.” His cheeks tint at your compliment, trying to brush it off with a smile as he pats the spot beside him to beckon you over. 
“You’re cuter,” he counters, snickering as you settle onto the bed, placing your mug on the coaster resting on his nightstand. 
“Hm, what was it again? I’m your pretty girl?” Not an ounce of embarrassment lays in him as he nods along, finger coming up to playfully tap at your chin. 
“You liked that huh?” 
“I did,” you confirm, smiling up at him as he inches closer. You beat him to the punch, swooping in and pressing your lips together sweetly, giggling as he makes a small noise of surprise. 
“I’ll make sure to say it more often.” It makes heat spread through you, having to ebb away your thoughts as he pushes down his sheets, a knowing smile on his lips when you look away from him. Jungkook chuckles under his breath when you finally join him under the sheets, his arm hooking around you to bring you close to his side. You get comfortable quickly, nuzzling into his chest as you throw your arm around his waist, hearing the slow beating of his heart. 
His body moves slightly as he brings up the blankets, his head looking down at you and smiling at the content look on your face. “I know this is totally backwards,” he starts, licking his lips over when you peer up at him with curious eyes. “But I’d really like to take you on a date. A proper one, that doesn’t involve you getting chased by the campus goose beforehand.”
“Really?” You can’t lie and say you weren’t hoping that this is what it would lead to, not wanting this to just be a one off hook up that would either make your relationship in class awkward or limit this to being the extent of your relationship. Jungkook had reeled you in the second you spoke to him on the first day of class, his polite demeanor and gentle compliments making it easy for you to picture what he would be like as a potential boyfriend. Tie that in with the way he was able to turn you into a stuttering mess with his fingers earlier tonight and that was all you needed to know he was the perfect package for you. 
“Yeah, we can go out for breakfast tomorrow before we finish our drawings? Or, I can take you to this really cool art shop a few blocks away. There's also this really pretty cafe that has themed drinks I think you’d like. And—“ his rambling is cut short as you squish his cheeks and bring his face down to plant another kiss on his lips. Jungkook finally releases a breath as you kiss him, eyes fluttering shut while his mind slows down and focuses on the gentle smacks of your lips together. 
“Yes,” you mumble against his mouth, lips curved up into a smile. 
“Yes to what?” he wonders, kissing you once again because he can’t get enough. 
“All of it. I’ll go anywhere with you.” You feel his heart race pick up against your palm, the smile on his face letting you know it’s not from nerves. Jungkook’s mind begins to whirl again with ideas, wanting to come up with something perfect, something worthy enough to show you just how he felt, and as he starts to speak them out loud once more, you can’t help but feel just as giddy.
Promises of taking you to see his band again, making you an art piece for you to hang on your wall, teaching you any song you want to learn on bass, are spoken into existence and you agree to all of it. The sparkle in his eyes makes your heart melt as you lean forward and kiss him once more, your cheek nudging his glasses while his palm comes up to cup your face. 
“I know how I wanna draw you for my project,” you murmur against his lips. 
You pull back and turn to face the corner of his room, making two L shapes with your fingers and holding them close like a frame as you point to his bass. “With your cherished bass of course.”
He chuckles, arms wrapping around your waist to bring you closer as he kisses your cheek. “Yeah? I’ll even pose shirtless for you if you’d like.”
“Oh, don’t threaten me with a good time,” you laugh, tangling your fingers in his hair, feeling the way his body shakes as he joins in with your laughter. As you lay there, feeling Jungkook pressing gentle kisses to your cheek, twirling strands of his hair in your finger while you keep him close, you’re flooded with excitement at whatever he has planned. From this position, your eyes make out his opened sketch pad, the drawing of yourself so clear on the paper, and as that same fluttering feeling takes over your chest, you’ve never been more thankful to have chosen his sweet, geeky self to be your art partner.
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taeunwoo · 7 days ago
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Happy 27th Birthday To Our Leader Aka Kim Namjoon!! ✰
"Maybe I made a mistake yesterday, but yesterday's me is still me. I am who I am today, with all my faults. Tomorrow I might be a tiny bit wiser, and that's me, too. These faults and mistakes are what I am, making up the brightest stars in the constellation of my life. I have come to love myself for who I was, who I am, and who I hope to become."
907 notes · View notes
ladyartemesia · 6 months ago
Once Upon a Bracelet
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Pairing: Prince Jungkook x Sorceress Reader (Featuring Platonic Jin x Reader Friendship)
Genre: Fantasy • Soulmates • Enemies to Lovers • Fairytale
Word Count: 12.5K
Warnings: explicit sexual content • mentions of death • injury with a knife • passing mention of patricide • mentions of blood in relation to magic • literally none of this is graphic at all • I am just trying to be safe • loss of virginity • some hurt/comfort elements • social inequality and classism • pseudo-infidelity but not really •
Rating: Explicit (18+) 
Summary: You were born to nothing, but your powerful craft caught the eye of a charming prince. However, his distinctly un-charming younger brother challenged your betrothal and is routinely challenging you. Jeon Jungkook is (probably) a former necromancer and (definitely) the wrong prince…
But the bracelets tell a different story.
Author’s Note: This story would not be here without the love, support and friendship of my incredible support system. You talk with me, you laugh with me, you listen when I’m crying, and you read my chaotic drafts when I am ready to pull my hair out of my head in frustration. I love you all. @ppersonna @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen @underthejoon @lemonjoonah Special thanks to my lovely beta Hope @hobi-gif who keeps my work sharp and gives so generously of her time to help me. If I shine, its because you ladies are lighting up my life. And finally, shout-out to the lovely @wwilloww who read the very first version of this story year before we ever connected through BTS. I hope you like this new version--my brain clearly ran away with me...
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Content Note: In this universe a necromancer is defined as a magic user with the ability to drain and/or manipulate the life force of living beings to fuel their own power. Using life force magic temporarily grants them advanced abilities—most of which are forbidden or illegal in the Kingdom of Dionysia where this story is set. Most mages with the ability to use this type of magic do not elect to do so. Magic users in this universe are typically proficient in three to four varieties of magic generally determined by their genetic make-up (meaning you are likely to inherit the same type of magical abilities as your parents or family members). 
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꧁ Prologue ꧂
It is said that the world of mortals contained three sacred wells where ancient magic rose up within the waters like springs from the depths of the earth. 
One such well could be found in the Kingdom of Dionysia—a nation of great warriors and powerful crafters who served as its caretakers for generations.
The Dionysians called this place Sanguine Well and, as a reward for their devotion, the gods honored them with a remarkable gift...
Bonding Bracelets
—a set of unique magical artifacts used to join, identify, and empower soulmates. 
On the first day of their twentieth year, Dionysian youth traveled to Sanguine Well for the ritual creation of a bonding bracelet pair. 
When the appointed hour arrived, a young seeker ventured into the depths of the well and held their breath beneath its waters till the currents receded—leaving a bracelet pair behind. 
One bracelet formed fully clasped around their wrist. The other remained open and would only close for the seeker’s destined mate.
Naturally the people of Dionysia did not take the gift of bonded soulmates lightly...
All proposed matches were registered and approved by the Ruling Council before an open bracelet could even be tried on by a potential partner and both parties were required to present evidence of their commitment to one another. 
If the alliance was approved, the betrothed pair participated in a public ceremony where the first seeker’s intended would activate the bond by placing the open bracelet around their wrist.
When an unclaimed bracelet united with its true owner, the open ends stretched and intertwined to form a rune.
From that moment on, the seeker and their soulmate were blood bonded in a supernatural union of their hearts, powers, and abilities that was—to all known craft—unbreakable. 
Dionysia believed that this care and reverence honored the craft and the gods, thereby allowing the sacred tradition to continue.
In 900 years of recorded history, only five bonding ceremonies ended with a bracelet that did not close.
Now there were six…
꧁ Once Upon a Time ꧂
Your voice echoed through the elegant corridors of Solemn Truth Palace as you chased after your betrothed. “I’m sorry! I—”
Jin whirled on you, shaking his head vehemently.
“None of this is your fault.”
“There are many reasons why this could’ve happened,” you offered breathlessly.
“There’s only one reason why this happens.”
He sighed and you rubbed your temples in frustration.
“I don’t understand… The Council gave permission.”
The Ruling Council was a sovereign governing body of three kings and three queens—one monarch from each of Dionysia’s six royal bloodlines.
“The Council isn’t all knowing…” Jin collapsed against a nearby wall. “This is a disaster,” he whispered.
And it was.
You had no family, but all of your friends and colleagues from the Academy were there.
Jin was technically an orphan as well, but his adopted family, the Jeons, were there.
Jeon Alaya was high queen of the Ruling Council, so half the kingdom was there to see the prince, her (adopted) son, bond with the craft prodigy from The Wastes.
Half the kingdom, but not her blood. Not her youngest son...
The two of you were silent for several moments as you struggled to process the shock.
“Do you think the rumors—what they say about me—is true?” 
Jin’s head shot up in an instant.
“No,” he swore, “they’re absolutely not true.”
Your heart warmed at his fierce defense, but after today’s debacle you were beginning to question yourself…
Whispers that ‘Wastelanders’ like yourself were citizens of no nation and loyal only to their own desires had plagued the majority of your academic and professional career.
You were forced to work twice as hard as any of your peers for each of your achievements, relying on nothing more than your natural talent and a stubborn determination to succeed in spite of the prejudice you faced. 
And you did succeed.
The gatekeepers of Dionysian society may have sneered at your background, but the powerful craft in your veins and the mastery with which you wielded it earned you undeniable respect and acclaim. 
Yet—even then—you were still an outsider. 
A strange girl with strange magic. 
Most Dionynisians practiced forms of elemental and illusion crafts. Your primary abilities, however, were every bit as foriegn and hard to define as you were.
Strictly speaking your magic fell under the umbrella of transfiguration arts (manipulating matter and energy to transform one thing into another), but you had been known to affect everything from the taste of tea to the weather—abilities far outside the norms of that designation. 
Nevertheless, transfiguration mages were rare and most of their lore was outdated—a situation which allowed you to establish yourself as a leading authority in the field almost by default. 
Between your fortuitous betrothal to Prince Seokjin and the widespread recognition of your achievements, you had hoped—after a lifetime of challenges—that the path ahead might be an easier one. 
But nothing ever came easily to you...
“Jin, it didn’t close—”
“It didn’t close because we aren’t soulmates—not because you aren’t one of us.” His expression softened. “We were a good idea… Just not the right one.”
Bitter tears welled up in the corners of your eyes.
On some level you were not surprised. You cared for Jin but–
Yours was not an overly romantic attachment.
It was a strong friendship—one that spanned several years. When you decided to apply to the Royal Council for bonding, it seemed…
Friendship was an excellent criteria for identifying a potential mate and over the centuries many bonded pairs applied as friends.
You trusted in the wisdom of the Royal Council—everyone did.
If you and Jin were not meant for one another, surely the Council would see it. They would turn down the application—someone would object—
Someone did object.
But you were approved, nonetheless. 
The date was set. Announcements were made. Invitations were sent out. 
Then, at last, the ornate golden cuff was placed over your wrist and…
Nothing happened.
Jin’s bracelet remained stubbornly un-closed.
And you had never felt so mortified—so exposed—
So profoundly alone in your entire life.
It was a scandal of epic proportions, one which potentially called into question the judgement of the entire Ruling Council.
“Listen,” Jin spoke at last, “I need… I need to clear my head and think about the next steps. I know an expert on bonding bracelets. Perhaps I can convince her to help us figure out this mess.”
His hands settled over your shoulders in a familiar comforting gesture.
“Head to my house outside the city for a while. No one will bother you there, and I’ll be back tomorrow.” He gave your arms a brotherly squeeze. “We’ll work through this—I promise.”
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Neither of you were keen to face the commotion unfolding in the grand ballroom of Solemn Truth Palace (where the failed ceremony took place), so Jin suggested a discreet escape through the secret entrance in his mother’s office. 
The two of you parted ways with a final hug before the prince set off for the Hall of Records—leaving you to trudge miserably toward his beautiful mansion by the lake. 
Technically, Golden Starlight Manor was just one of many homes owned by the Jeon family. This one, however, Jin shared with his younger brother…
You kicked a stone irritably at the mere thought of his name. 
Prince Jeon Jungkook was rather a sore subject for you. 
In fact, over the course of your acquaintance, you expended considerable energy either avoiding him or engaging in dramatic shouting matches with him.
As such, Starlight (the family’s affectionate nickname for the sprawling ancestral holding) was normally the last place in Dionysia you wanted to be. 
But that was no longer the case. 
Jungkook had been gone for weeks. He left the very day your betrothal was announced…
“Why do you bother with those ridiculous gloves? Anyone who’s watched you cast knows what you’re hiding.”
You sighed heavily. 
“Good evening to you as well, Jungkook. Nice of you to finally show up.”
“Mother made some very explicit threats against my person when I told her I was busy so I assumed it was important—and, judging by your fancy gloves, I was correct.”
“Honestly I’m beginning to suspect you’ve never seen a pair before.”
“I’m just baffled by their purpose. It’s only a scar—your hands are not disfigured… So why cover it up?”
Only a scar…
You shook your head. 
Only a scar you earned in a back alley knife fight when you were a mere ten years old. With no proper medical care it had become infected and what should have been a simple wound became a permanent reminder of your ugly past. 
Tonight—of all nights—you would rather not be reminded...
“Is there a purpose to this discussion, Highness, or are you just interrogating me for fun?”
Jungkook scoffed at your cool reply. 
“That scratch on your hand isn’t even noticeable, you know.” He opened up his own palm to reveal a thick band of gnarled tissue slashing diagonally across the center. “Mine is significantly more impressive.
Something that might have been a smile tugged insistently at the corner of your lips but you covered it quickly with a blistering scowl. 
“Comparing scars—really? Can’t you be civilized for one blasted evening?”
“Why would I do that? Think of how bored you’d be.”
You groaned and threw back the rest of your drink with a frustrated gulp. 
“Believe it or not we common folk long for a bit of peaceful boredom now and then.”
The prince snorted and clasped his hand dramatically over his heart. 
“So righteous.”
“Someone ought to be.”
“Enough you two,” Jeon Alaya called from across the family’s spacious day room. “I just replaced those curtains and I don’t want them exploding into a herd of butterflies—or some other such nonsense.”
In any other context, that would have been a profoundly strange comment.
Disagreements between yourself and Jeon Jungkook had become downright legendary over the last several months. 
A heated argument in Night Meadow Park caused several trees to burst into bright multicolored flames and start shooting all their fruit at peaceful park-goers like tiny delicious cannonballs. 
A dispute over the best ingredients to use in vegetable casserole ended with an entire bowl of green beans growing legs and chasing the family dog out onto the lawn. 
The two of you got into a row at the Centennial Peace Celebration and sent all of the lightning swans (specially flown in for the occasion) into a static-electric mating frenzy that plastered everyone’s clothes to their bodies obscenely—including the ninety-five year-old high priest. (The chief matron from the Knitting Guild was so scandalized that she fainted into a bowl of punch.)
And just last week Jungkook’s stubborn refusal to acknowledge your point in an ongoing debate about teleportation made you so mad that your hair literally turned red for an entire day. 
As such, you both had the decency to look abashed under the high queen’s wary gaze. 
“I don’t know, Mother,” Jin chuckled before offering the assembled guests a dazzling grin. “Perhaps you should have let them go. Butterflies are good luck after all.”
You sighed happily—impressed yet again by your partner’s elegant diplomacy. 
The two princes of House Jeon could not have been less alike. 
They shared a deep affection for one another and for their parents, but that was where the similarities began and ended. 
Seokjin was a playful charmer with a silver tongue and a delightfully mischievous demeanor. 
He was remarkably similar in both looks and temperament to Alaya and her husband Roomin—so much so that people often assumed Jungkook was the adopted sibling.
The elder prince was also a natural politician. He enjoyed appearing in charitable competitions for cooking and fishing where his flirtatious habit of blowing kisses into the crowd would unlace corsets and purses strings left and right. 
Not that he had ever been unfaithful—Kim Seokjin was every bit as kind and loyal as he was beautiful. 
And he was very beautiful. 
Jungkook on the other hand…
Beautiful was altogether the wrong word. 
The sharp sensual planes of his face seemed shaped for something darker and wilder than beauty.
Jin was clever and outgoing, but Jungkook was brilliant and quietly intense. His abilities and impressive spell lore were both highly sought after, but he was difficult to draw out and generally preferred to practice his science and experimental craft far away from the public eye. 
Most people agreed that he was an enigma—and a wickedly handsome one at that. His fiery brown eyes and impressive muscular physique were only enhanced by the apathetic confidence of his demeanor. 
The younger prince’s most arresting feature was unquestionably his hair.  
Once, it had been brown—like the rest of the Jeon family…
But he returned from ‘the incident’ several years ago with a distinct new color—one no dye or spell could replicate. 
Ashen Gold.
The mark of a deadly necromancer. 
A constant visual reminder that he had taken a life.
And yet even that could not detract from his seductive allure—if anything it made him appear more poetically ethereal.
Like an Angel of Death.
Women all over the kingdom were obsessed with the mysterious Jeon prince—
Not you of course.
That raw, unruly magnetism might cause some hearts to flutter—but certainly not yours. 
After all...
Jeon Jungkook was still a true-born prince.
And you—even with all of your accomplishments—would always be a street waif from The Wastes with a little too much magic in her blood. 
You had no business noticing the soft curve of his lips or the strong line of his jaw or—
… anything below that. 
As such you shot the man in question one final dirty look before turning your attention back to Jin. 
The elder prince finished thanking the assembled guests for accepting his invitation and finally arrived at the true purpose for the evening.
“Honored loved ones… I am pleased to announce that a bond between this incredibly beautiful woman and my unworthy self has been unanimously approved by the Royal Council! We are betrothed!”
A predictable burst of applause and excited murmuring erupted as you stepped forward, prepared to graciously take your place at Jin’s side and accept congratulations when—
Strong fingers suddenly wrapped around your wrist—holding you back decisively. 
Shocked silence fell over the room as you turned to face Jeon Jungkook (resolutely ignoring the fact that his unyielding grip was sending the strangest sparks of heat all through your body).
“No,” he growled with startling finality. “You cannot be with him.”
… Perhaps that humiliating spectacle at your betrothal party should have been the first indication that today’s ceremony was bound to end in misery. 
Jeon Jungkook was a menace, but he adored his brother and his impassioned objections to the match were wildly uncharacteristic.
Considering the turbulent nature of your relationship, you were rather relieved that he had not been there this morning to witness his own belated triumph. 
It was a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless. 
The repercussions of today’s disastrous ceremony loomed overhead like the Sword of Damocles. There would be no escaping the fallout.  
It was well past the eighth hour when you finally reached the manor and the staff were already gone for the night… 
There was no one to greet you or ask any well-intentioned questions about your sudden appearance.
Thank the gods for small favors.
Normally you took a moment to appreciate Starlight’s elegantly carved entryway and vibrant woodland wallpaper (a stunning and expensive feature which made the entire house feel like an enchanted forest)—but the reality of the day was already beginning to take a physical toll. 
You were entirely too drained to attempt the stairs, bypassing them in favor of the main drawing room where you intended to simply collapse fully-clothed on a chaise when—
“Shouldn’t you be off playing princess literally anywhere else?”
Of course. 
A mirthless laugh bubbled up before you could stop it.
“Jeon Jungkook.”
Just what I needed right now.
The prince crossed his arms and offered you a condescending tilt of his head.
Years of social training had you dipping slightly into an informal bow—hoping it would hide the way your body always seemed to go haywire in his presence. 
Jungkook’s tall muscular frame leaned indolently against the fireplace, dressed head to toe in his signature black garb. Two silver earrings—priceless heirlooms of the Jeon bloodline—dangled rakishly from his ears beneath riotous waves of golden hair. 
He looked more like a renegade pirate than a high born prince.
And his effect on you was maddening. 
“What are you doing here?”
Jungkook raised a single imperious brow in response. 
“It is my house, Sandflower.”
You bristled at the familiar nickname. 
Sandflowers were native to the desolate region you grew up in. 
It was an easy way to remind you of your place into the world. 
And his. 
A prince of Dionysia forced to interact with a foundling from The Wastes simply because you happened to catch his brother’s eye.
How that must grate his delicate sensibilities.
You tapped your chin thoughtfully. 
“I heard you ran off to pout over Jin’s terrible taste in women on one of those South Sea pleasure cruises.” Condescension dripped from your tone like poisoned honey. “What happened? Couldn’t find any lost souls willing to partner you for naked badminton?”
He grinned devilishly. 
“Quite the opposite in fact. There were far too many volunteers.”
You rolled your eyes, firmly pushing aside the unwelcome heat his words evoked. 
“Please spare me the details. I recently ate.”
“Yes, how was that overblown betrothal banquet?… Boring?… Pretentious?” He sighed theatrically. “Such a shame I missed those speeches—especially King Tiemore. His habit of loudly sucking snot up into his skull really adds a special something.”
You just barely managed to bite back a snort—
King Tiemore’s speech was rather excruciating—and for that very reason. 
“The dinner was lovely—naturally. Of course the younger prince’s absence was keenly felt by all—though I confess some of us enjoyed it more than others.”
“I knew there had to be something about me you enjoyed.”
“Indeed. Your absence is by far your most attractive quality. I find myself powerfully drawn to it.”
Jungkook laughed and offered you a wry grin. 
“You know—you play so coy, but I’m sure you missed me a little.” He leaned forward ever-so-slightly. “Or were you truly content with all that ‘peaceful boredom’ I left behind?” 
No. I wasn’t. 
“Yes, of course I was,” you snapped.
“I don’t believe you.”
“You’re free to believe whatever you like.”
A sudden scuffle erupted from the corner as Pippin (the family dog) scrambled nervously out into the kitchen. Ever since the green bean incident he refused to be in the same room with the two of you together. 
Jungkook sighed and ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation.
“What are you even doing here, Sandflower?”
A sharp burst of anxiety spiked in your stomach. You were in no way prepared to reveal the extent of your humiliation to him just yet. 
“I could ask you the same question.”
His eyes narrowed curiously. 
“A man hardly needs to explain why he’s present in his own home. The same, however, cannot be said for you. Now why are you here when you’re supposed to be hanging off my brother's arm like a good little bride-to-be.” 
“Perhaps I’ve come to plan,” you answered coolly. “Golden Starlight House would make a lovely venue for the wedding, don’t you think?” 
You gestured toward a worn leather chair near the fireplace (one you knew to be his favorite). “We just need to clear out all the trash and it will be absolutely perfect.”
“Over my dead body.”
You shrugged. 
“If you insist—though I’m afraid your hideous corpse will clash with the decor.”
“Oh you don’t have to worry about all that, Sandflower. I wouldn’t be caught celebrating that union dead or alive.”
“Well now that is fortunate,” you sighed in a sickeningly sweet tone, “—as I would rather not share the joy of my wedding ceremony with the man who publicly objected to it.”
Jungkook pushed off his perch against the mantle, rising to full intimidating height.
“I had good reason.” 
The words were quietly spoken, but his eyes burned with conviction—just as they had the last time you saw him. 
“What reason could you possibly have for obstructing your brother’s happiness?” 
The prince took a full step closer and you tried very hard not to be unnerved by the reduced space between you. 
“Jin is not right for you, little Sandflower—”
“You do not have permission to address me informally!” 
Your voice cracked through the air like a whip as you sought to reestablish a safe distance (whether real or metaphorical) between the two of you. “I may have been born a nothing from The Wastes, but I am a ranked crafter and the betrothed of a royal. You will refer to me accordingly.”
Jungkook could feel his normally frigid heart pounding madly as he stared down his brother’s woman with unrepentant heat. 
His eyes drank you in as you stood before him—teeming with barely controlled fire.
Gods but you were magnificent.
He still remembered the day Jin brought you home to the family estate.
You seemed so serene, so proper… an ideal contrast to his charmingly brash elder sibling. 
Within minutes, Jungkook dismissed you as vapid and uninteresting. 
The girl at his brother’s side spoke very little, smiled very tightly, and sat very straight. 
You would make a lovely decorative addition to Jin’s political career—one that would never distract from his efforts or clash with his carefully maintained persona. 
But oh…
He’d been so very wrong.
Some months later Jungkook was called out to the Academy on unavoidable business. After several hours of work the prince was eager to leave the crowded campus and return home—until he heard something that stopped him in his tracks. 
It was you. 
Several classes were gathered to watch you debate a renowned authority in the field of experimental alchemy. The man’s theories had been the gold standard (literally) for decades, yet you challenged his findings with methodical precision—letting your infectious zeal color every word as you reduced his pretentious ramblings to ash. 
That was the first time he saw you—the real you—not the shallow little angel his brother brought home—but a woman brimming with vibrant energy and irresistible passion. 
He had no idea how you managed to suppress the force of your true nature, but he suspected that the pleasantly tepid persona you adopted with his family was meant to compensate for your ignominious origins. 
He was certain, however, of one thing:
You and Jin were a terrible match. 
His brother would never make you happy and he could not bear to see Jin’s spirit broken by the anguish of an ill-fated entanglement.
Naturally, this newfound conviction had nothing to do with the way his own blood stirred at the sight of you rising up in glorious fury. 
Nothing at all. 
From that moment on, everything changed. 
Jungkook went from passively ignoring your presence to deliberately baiting you at every turn. Time and time again he pushed and prodded until that mesmerizing fire blazed in your eyes and you were alive with riotous animosity instead of cold and distant.
“Forgive me, Mistress,” he tilted his head thoughtfully, “or is it Princess now?”
You snorted and shook your head. 
“You know I will never be a princess.”
“Oh? So you’ve finally given up this ridiculous alliance with my brother?”
“Your brother is a royal, but not a true born prince. His title is just a courtesy—one his mate and descendants cannot share.”
“In you? Frequently.”
“Fair enough—but Jin is a far better person than either of us and he does not deserve to have his heart broken.”
Your mouth dropped open in outrage. 
“I resent your entire implication. I know you do not think very highly of me but—”
“You have no idea what I think of you, Mistress,” he interrupted fiercely.
Anger flared in your gaze as you stepped defiantly into his space, fueled by the familiar wave of restless energy you encountered every time the two of you clashed.
“I am a powerful crafter in my own right, I don’t need a wealthy mate to survive. I have done exceptionally well for myself—by myself.”
“Then why are you with him?”
You drew back incredulously.
“Is it so hard to believe that I do not want to be alone anymore? Is it wrong to look at my gorgeous best friend and consider that perhaps we could create the one thing I cannot earn or buy or craft—not with all the gold and power in the world?”
“Love?” Jungkook sneered.
“Family,” you shot back. “Something you take for granted. Something you don’t even want. You’re not even looking for a bond mate!”
Jungkook met your cutting accusations with an icy glare. He knew you were baiting him, yet for some masochistic reason he refused to stop you. 
Lines were about to be crossed, but—as usual—the prince had torn away your genteel civility and unleashed that penniless spitfire who clawed her way up from the rotting streets and into the hallowed halls of Dionysia’s Academy. 
“Ah, yes. I forgot,” you drawled, not bothering to conceal the venom in your words. “The great Jeon Jungkook lives a life of self-imposed solitude—as the walking eulogy of a traitor.”
“How dare you!” he snarled.
You crossed your arms defiantly. 
“How dare I what? Call her a traitor? She was a necromancer! A dark crafter using evil—and highly illegal—magic!” 
“I suppose we cannot all be walking, talking saints like the Mistress of the Wastes!”
“Well, her immaculate bloodline certainly wasn’t a guarantee of any notable virtue! Really what is the point of nobility if so few of you are actually noble?”
The two of you pressed progressively closer with each traded barb and now stood nearly nose to nose seething in reciprocal fury. Every atom in your body was engaged and—for the first time since he stormed away all those months ago—you felt gloriously alive. 
At heart you would always be a fighter and there was no better opponent than Jeon Jungkook. 
“Careful little Mistress, you’re starting to sound awfully judgemental. Ridicule me and my advantages all you want, but birthright is not the shield from suffering you believe it to be. I endured a loss you cannot possibly comprehend.”
“A loss?... That woman was a disgrace. And yet you still have the audacity to mourn her?”
Jungkook scoffed. 
“Gods, why am I even bothering? It is impossible for you to understand such things… You only know how to gain—how to advance. Loss is not something you’re accustomed to—a fringe benefit of being born with nothing I suppose.”
“Spoken like a privileged prince!”
His eyes narrowed dangerously. 
“Do I look like a privileged prince to you?”
You knew what he was getting at and with anyone else it might have been an effective shut down, but you were a master debater—able to quickly reclaim his point for your own cutting riposte. 
“Of course you do! Do you think anyone else could turn up with a necromancer’s mark and just waltz back into the fold without consequence? What have you lost? Certainly not your position—and certainly not her because everyone knows that your relationship was nothing more than an accursed spell!”
Jungkook’s jaw worked in silence as he fought to control his emotions. 
For a moment he looked almost… 
And you could not help the wave of sympathy that suddenly rose up for him—for the young prince of so many years ago who placed his trust—and his heart—in the wrong hands. 
Your tone was noticeably softer when you spoke again. 
“At first I thought it was just a ridiculous rumor spread by the Royal Council to justify your pardon... but when the Academy called me in to help permanently dispose of her spell books last winter I saw…” You bit your lip. “It really was possible.”
A soft, empty laugh left Jungkook’s lips as he shook his head. 
Of course it was possible. 
But the truth—that he was a fool too blinded by love to recognize the evil he allowed to flourish—was so much worse. 
Elaena was heart-stoppingly beautiful—the kind of lovely that could haunt a man’s thoughts and ruin his mind. 
She was a vision.
When she sought him out, it was like nothing he had ever experienced before. 
She dazzled him, flattered him—left him breathless and enchanted—taunted and teased him till he adored her with obsessive intensity.
In time he eagerly offered her both his heart and his body—
But Elaena was after his soul...
Jungkook’s grandfather, Jeon Olin, was the most powerful necromancer in a thousand years. 
The gift (or curse) of necromancy was genetic. Only a few bloodlines could use it. 
When his beloved wife died giving birth to twins, Olin turned to dark craft in a desperate attempt to get her back.
The cost of necromancy, however, was impossibly steep.
It drained life force. Exposed the wielder to dangerous dark energies—
And slowly drove them insane.
In the end, Jeon Olin was put down by his own children.
Elaena wanted Jungkook’s power desperately. Her own necromancy was weak, but a blood bond with the grandson of Jeon Olin could make her invincible. 
The young prince, however, remained stubbornly blind to her true motives, even as she convinced him to explore the dark edges of the magic in his blood.
After a series of passionate arguments with his concerned family, Jungkook declared his intent to marry Elaena in defiance of their express wishes.
In response, his uncle, Jeon Anjin, did something unforgivable. He removed Jungkook’s bonding bracelet from the Jeon vault and disappeared with it.
The theft and its dramatic aftermath tore the royal family apart.
Jungkook was convinced that his mother and father conspired with Anjin to keep him from bonding with Elaena. Roomin and Alaya swore they had not, but openly admitted that they were grateful for Anjin’s actions. 
Neither Alaya nor her brother could forget the trauma of killing their own father and both were determined to protect future generations from the poison in their family tree. 
Necromancy was a curse and, though they had no proof, the twins could sense its hold on Elaena. 
When Jungkook told his beloved what Anjin had done, she flew into a violent fury—and for the first time he experienced a sliver of doubt in his previously unshakable resolve. 
But it was not enough to free him. 
Consumed by his bitterness and resent, the young prince cut himself off from his heritage—from his people—
And disappeared entirely.
After a few tearful pleas, Elaena persuaded him to cloak their life force using forbidden blood spells, effectively concealing them from even the most powerful seeker mages. 
Daily cuts across his palm to maintain the cloaking spell left him with a thick gnarled scar—one that had not faded even after years of treatments. 
For months no one knew the prince’s whereabouts… or even if he was still alive. 
Elaena believed that if they held out long enough the royal families would relent and welcome them back with open arms. Her obsession with finding Anjin and his stolen treasure put an incredible strain on their relationship...
“You have… no idea what you’re talking about,” Jungkook whispered angrily. 
“Of course I do,” you scoffed. “I’ve worked with mind and heart spells for years. Once the magic is broken or the caster dies—the feelings cease to exist!”
Fury sparked chaotically in the prince’s gaze as he shook his head in frustration. 
“You’re so sure of yourself—of everything—and you never stop to consider that you might be wrong.”
Your fingers pressed into your temples as you tried to ease the headache he was giving you. 
“What could I possibly be wrong about? The entire kingdom knows the story! You were bewitched until Elaena cast a dark spell that rebounded and killed her—”
“That,” he hissed, “is the story—but it is not the truth.”
His hand shot out to grasp the back of your neck and with a sudden flash of heat you found yourself yanked roughly into his memories...
The door to Elaena’s makeshift workshop slammed open with a deafening crack. 
“Ju-Jungkook—what are you doing here, my love? I thought you were out hunting for our dinner.”
Something was wrong. She could see it in his eyes. For months they were filled with open adoration... 
Now they burned with hurt and mistrust. 
“I was looking for the knife,” he whispered quietly, “I remembered seeing you with it last night...”
Elaena paled. 
He’d gone through her chest. But that didn’t have to mean anything—he could have missed—
“I found this.” 
Jungkook slammed an old leather scroll down on the table between them, confirming his lover’s worst fears. 
“That… that isn’t what it seems—I promise I—”
“Enough!” Jungkook shouted—his voice was already beginning to shake. “These are experimental incantations to force an unfated bracelet bond… Tell me—why would you need such a thing?”
His pain and anguish grew every moment she remained silent. 
“Elaena... if you believe that we are soulmates—why would you need to force the bond?”
Elaena rushed toward him, sliding her hands up to cradle his face imploringly. 
“It isn’t like that, my love. This is just research. Of course I believe—”
A soft whimpering sound suddenly cut her off and Jungkook drew back in alarm. 
“What is that?”
He pushed past her, making his way toward the source of the noise—a small moving object covered by cloth in the middle of the room. 
“It’s nothing! Wait!”
Elaena tugged frantically at his shirt but he shook her off and pulled back the cloth to reveal—
“Elaena—gods what have you done?”
It was a little girl—one he recognized from the village they were hiding in. She was bound and laid out over strange dark casting symbols he did not recognize. 
“I discovered a spell, Jungkook. It’s an ancient necromancer incantation. With it you can find anything—anyone.”
A hard hollow feeling gripped his chest tightly. 
“... Why is the girl here?”
“Don’t you see? Now we can finally take your bracelet back from Anjin! You and I—we can truly be together—”
“THE GIRL, Eleana! What are you doing to the girl!?”
His hands came up to grip her arms, but she pushed him away in disgust and extended her palm toward the child. 
“I told you—she’s nothing. Just a bit of collateral damage.”
Eleana’s eyes darkened to an inky black and the little girl began to cry, struggling as the primal essence her life force was cruelly ripped away. 
“Eleana stop! Let her go! You can’t do this!”
“OF COURSE I CAN!” she snarled. “I’ve done it before.”
Jungkook’s eyes widened. 
“But-but your hair—”
“I’ve been brewing a potion to cover it for years! How could I be satisfied with the meager energy of animals when a single human life can make me more powerful than the high queen!”
The girl screamed again and Jungkook ran to her side, yanking and pulling at the ropes around her small wrists in horrified desperation. 
“It’s too late!” Eleana shouted. “The ritual has already begun. You cannot save her now!”
The prince cradled the shaking child in his arms and sobbed out in anguish. 
He knew in his heart what had to be done—
… And that he must be the one to do it. 
“I can save her...” he whispered. “It is you who cannot be saved.”
A single tear drifted down the side of his cheek as he stretched out his palm toward the woman he loved. 
“I’m sorry...”
You gasped as the memory began to darken—holding your breath as the last few moments played through your mind—
—watching as the prince’s beautiful brown curls lightened to an unmistakable gold...
—watching him run to the lifeless Elaena and pull her against his chest in despair.  
“Oh my gods…” you whispered. “It wasn’t a spell. You—”
“I loved her.”
The words fell heavy on your heart like molten lead. 
It hurt to hear them—and you could not bear to think about why. 
Heavens above I’ve been a fool. 
Jeon Jungkook was far more complicated than you realized. 
Though… perhaps a part of you had always known that. 
“Your hair was dark in the vision until…” You swallowed convulsively. “Was… was that—”
The prince’s eyes were strangely hollow. 
“I’ve only ever taken one life.” His gaze held yours with quiet intensity. “Hers.”
The word lingered like poison in the scant space between you—even as emotions too strong and too numerous to identify churned chaotically through your senses. 
This man was such a fascinating force in your life—a question you kept trying to answer over and over again without success. 
After a moment Jungkook slowly turned his back to you, resting his weight against the mantle with a weary sigh. 
For the first time you realized just how close the two of you had come to one another. 
“I’m sorry…” you whispered.
“I can’t imagine why you’re apologizing. You’ve made it quite clear what you think of me.”
“I don’t know what to think of you at all… Why won’t you let them tell the truth?”
Indignation and self-loathing warred over his features as he swung around abruptly. 
“Because the truth is—that I would rather they all believe I was a spoiled, bewitched pawn and not a monster who used his own grotesque abilities to kill the woman he loved!”
“No!” You shook your head fiercely, “You saved that little girl!”
“And I lost myself!”
You gasped at the violent bitterness behind his words. 
The raw pain in his voice—in his expression—was heart wrenching; such a departure from the normally arrogant and apathetic prince. 
“Jungkook,” you breathed sympathetically, but he kept going—almost as if he hadn’t heard you. 
“My honor, my dignity, my self-respect —perhaps even my chance to forge a bond… All of it died with Elaena.” 
“That’s not true! You chose to do the right thing—to protect an innocent life—even if it meant sacrificing someone you loved! That is a truly noble act.”
“Noble?... Are you blind, Mistress? Everyone, including you, regards me with fear and distrust. All anyone sees when they look at me is a monster.” 
“Stop saying that. You’re not a monster—”
“Oh?” He leaned in again, crowding your space, “Then what am I?”
Your breath caught. Your eyes widened in response to his proximity—
—and Jeon Jungkook forcibly bit back a groan. 
Gods but you were so unpardonably beautiful up close it was almost painful. 
He couldn’t say what compelled him to reveal the truth of his past to you or why all of his carefully maintained defenses routinely seemed to fade away in your presence. He spent so much time pushing others back and yet—by instinct rather than by choice—he was always trying to bring you closer. 
Even now—as uncomfortable as it was to have the darkest parts of his soul laid bare before you… 
He could not bring himself to regret it. 
“To that little girl… you’re a hero,” you whispered softly.  
Surprise flickered briefly acros his gaze. It was clear he had not expected such an admission from you. His eyes seemed to search your face for signs of mockery and for a moment you were thoroughly ashamed of yourself. 
“Then what am I to you?” he asked finally. 
You paled. 
There was nothing but a whisper of space separating you now. You could practically feel his breath against your skin when he spoke.
“If I am not a monster… then I must be something else.” His eyes locked with yours significantly. “So what am I to you?”
Oh gods, help. 
It should have been such a simple question. 
But it wasn’t. 
And it became increasingly more complicated with every moment that passed between you. Something dark and inviting stirred restlessly beneath the surface each and every time your paths crossed...
You could feel it. 
But you could not afford to acknowledge it—and he could never seem to let it go. 
“Eleana was the monster,” you insisted firmly, twisting your response away from dangerous territory, “—and you cannot continue to let her control your life like this.”
Jungkook drew back with a frustrated growl. 
“She is not controlling my life! You think I’m mourning her? The person I loved was a lie. She never even existed!”
“Exactly! You were the victim every step of the way… So why are you punishing yourself?”
His eyes hardened. 
“You’re taking shots in the dark now, Mistress,” he warned.
“Am I? You’ve locked yourself away in that dungeon you call a lab for the past four years. Barely twenty five winters, but you walk like a beaten man. Elaena may not have bewitched you, but she still has her hands wrapped around your throat.” 
Jungkook snapped forward with a strangled roar and seized both your arms—yanking you close to him once more. Sharp, spiraling heat shot through your veins as you met his livid black gaze.
“You have no right to speak to me that way. You have never been in love. You don’t know what it is to lose it!”
“I love your brother—”
“You do not know my brother! And he does not know you.”
“Of course he knows me!”
“Does he, Sandflower?” Jungkook addressed you intimately once again—not caring that he was forbidden to do so. “Does he know how you light up the moment you win an argument? Or see the smile you save for finding that solution no one else could? Does he even realize that you hide an insatiable passion behind that chilling calm? Answer me, woman!”
But you could not.
Jeon Jungkook had seen you.
He had seen you.
—and the truth he threw in your face cut deeply.
For years you searched for a partner who would suit you. Someone who needed you. Someone safe and comfortable... 
Someone like Jin who was kind and charming and often benefited from your perspectives.
… And yet—
 Something was missing.
You didn’t want Jin as a woman should want her mate… and you always suspected—on some level—that he did not want you (in that way) either.
Perhaps it will come with time. Perhaps I’m just nervous—you reassured yourself over and over again.
But here and now—after everything that had happened—the truth was unavoidable.
You did not feel with Jin.
Not like when you argued your theories at the academic tribunals. Not like when you traveled to every corner of the kingdom just to satisfy your curiosity. Not like—
Your breath caught.
Not like with Jungkook.
All at once the truth crashed over you like flood waves from a broken dam. 
It wasn’t anger, or resent, or even frustration that flared chaotically through your system every time he got too close—
It was desire.
When the prince saw his accusations confirmed in your troubled gaze, he lashed out and seized your wrist.
“How can you even wear his brace-”
He stopped cold. 
It wasn’t there.
“Where is the bracelet?” 
His entire being seemed to suspend within a single question.
“It didn’t close,” you said breathlessly.
Then your eyes changed. From guarded to almost… hopeful.
Just for an instant.
But it was enough. 
Every urge—every impulse—every desperate longing he caged out of self-preservation suddenly broke free with a vengeance.
Jungkook dragged you completely into his arms, bringing your face mere breaths from his.
“You can never belong to him,” he growled as his lips came crashing down on yours.
Oh sweet merciful heavens.
You had allowed Jin to kiss you before. He was your betrothed after all and the few tender kisses you shared with him were quite sweet, very pleasant, utterly polite—
And nothing—absolutely nothing—like this.
Dark, wicked heat poured through your body in relentless waves as his mouth moved against yours, giving and taking with unmistakable hunger. 
He tasted like summer and wonder and every wish you ever whispered into the wind under the stars. 
Jeon Jungkook was definitely the wrong brother and you were an upstart from the wrong class—but oh...
This was so indescribably right. 
Your breath caught as the prince bore you back into the wall, desperate for any part of you he could touch— and you opened to him willingly—eagerly—as if you had done so a thousand times. 
As if you belonged to him...
You shouldn’t want this. You knew better—but instead of pushing him away you pressed forward shamelessly, tangling your fingers into his hair as you melted against him. 
The contrast of his muscular frame intertwining with your supple curves was unspeakably erotic. Everything about this man was unspeakably erotic and your body responded to his with hedonistic fervor. 
One of his hands slammed against the ornate surface behind you and suddenly the beautifully rendered woodlands frozen within that absurdly expensive wallpaper hummed with magic—coming to life beneath his fingertips even as he poured his passion into you. 
Trees began to bloom. Animals began to move. The sky shifted in between previously inanimate branches. Spring broke forth from the four walls around you—
But neither of you noticed. 
For you and he there was nothing beyond the explosive longing that had waited too long and too bitterly for release. 
"Gods woman, you drive me crazy,” he rasped, drawing back momentarily for a breath before plundering your lips again. The rough timbre of his voice—so obviously dazed with desire—shot a fresh wave of arousal down your spine. 
There would be a reckoning for this moment, of that you were certain—
… yet it no longer mattered. 
The pain and humiliation of the last several hours lifted off your shoulders in favor of an incredible lightness. Everything in your world narrowed down to the feel of your heartbeat next to his. 
You had slept on the streets of the Wastes, claimed unprecedented academic prestige, ascended to the gilded halls of the Grand Palace—but nothing had ever felt like him. 
And nothing had ever felt like home—
Until him. 
Jungkook—for his part—did not intend to kiss you, or hold you, or hoist you up against the wall as he was currently doing, but when his hand closed over your bare wrist an unholy triumph had blazed to life in the depths of his defeated soul. 
Elation the likes of which he’d never known suddenly flooded his senses. 
Jin may have found you first, but he would be the one to claim you. 
You were his. 
He knew it from the moment he watched you dismantle that overblown alchemist like a warrior queen. 
The day the council approved your betrothal he felt as if his world was ripped in half. 
It was unthinkable. 
How could you belong to his brother when it was his soul that burned for you?
Watching you stand next to Jin, smiling and accepting congratulations with that pleasantly vacant smile on your face, had been the last straw. 
That night he ran as far away as he could, hoping to escape you… but it was never far enough. 
You haunted him relentlessly.  And he soon discovered that there was no point in putting distance between you—
Not when you were already in his heart.  
In the end he returned to Dionysia determined to face his fate—only to find that he had been right all along. 
“I’ve always loved Sandflowers. Did you know that?”
You gasped as he began to press hot open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat. 
“I-I didn’t know.” 
You didn’t know your own name at this point, so that wasn’t saying much. 
“It’s true,” he hummed, sucking a trail of pretty pink marks into the soft skin along your collarbone. You whined breathlessly at his boldness, losing yourself in each new sensation until he spoke again. 
“Sandflowers flourish and grow where nothing else can. They’re incredibly strong,” he pressed forward, melding the hard lines of his body into yours till his center ground against your throbbing core, “yet still so beautiful and soft.”
Nimble fingers pulled at the laced sides of your elegant betrothal dress—loosening the ties till he could slip through and brush over your bare skin. 
“They cannot be kept in vases on desks or in little glass houses… Nothing so fragile could ever contain them.”
You moaned needily and his breath caught as the sound of it curled through him like an echo from his wildest dreams. 
“I thought—”
“I know what you thought,” he whispered, fisting his hand in your hair to gain better access to the delectable curve of your neck. “And I let you think it because it was easier if you hated me.” 
Your eyes flew open as he reached lower, sliding his hands under your dress to fully reveal the smooth legs wrapped around his body. One firmly muscled thigh suddenly pressed directly into the warmth of your swollen cunt—
And then he began to move. 
“Jungkook—oh my gods!” 
Pleasure—urgent and messy—rippled out from your center in all directions, overtaking you in a way that felt utterly primal and uncivilized. Your body trembled as he rutted against yours folds, opening even further to accommodate that glorious new friction. 
The sounds he drew out of you were incoherent—unhinged even. Mindlessly, you moved to cover your lips but his hand suddenly closed over your wrist and pinned it to the wall. 
“You sound so sweet,” he murmured in between thrusts, “so perfect.”
Your gown was slowly coming apart, slipping further and further down till it barely clung to the swells of your breast.
The need building between your legs was fast becoming unbearable. You were racing toward some sort of breaking point when you felt his hands latch around your hips and lift you onto a nearby decorative table—shattering the lamp and what was certainly a priceless antique vase as he swept them aside to make room. 
The sound of glass breaking against the tile barely registered through the haze of desire pulsing between you—and neither of you noticed when the larger shards sprouted shimmering gossamer wings and began to flutter whimsically around the light fixtures. 
Instead you were mewling pitifully at the unacceptable emptiness between your thighs and pulling at him in an attempt to soothe your frustration. 
“Shhh,” he chuckled, “I’ve got you.”
His mouth played lazily over your skin as he leaned you back, lowering himself till his lips hovered over the greedy tips of your breasts.
Some distant part of your mind knew that this was beyond scandalous. 
The once beautiful betrothal garment pooled at your waist, leaving your top and bottom bare to the hungry gaze of a man who was definitely not your betrothed. 
Then his tongue darted out to give one tightened peak the slightest flick and you hissed as sensation twisted through you. 
“These are exquisite,” he mused naughtily and you whined in response—arching toward him without conscious thought as his words wound around you like the strangest spell—warming you from the inside out with their simple forthright magic. 
Finally he leaned forward and drew one tormented nub into his mouth with obvious obscene pleasure and—heavens above—it felt so good you almost blacked out. 
“Oh my—please yes,” you keened as he sucked noisily. 
Wetness flooded between your thighs as that desperate need for release continued to build recklessly. Your fingers curled into his hair as he serviced you, switching between the twin swells of your breast with greedy satisfaction till the stimulation was nearly overwhelming. 
“Gods what a dream you are” he growled, worrying your swollen nub gently between his teeth, “so bare and needy.” 
He moved forward to kiss you again and you gasped as his hand slid down to stroke the wet linen of your undergarments. 
“Does it feel like this when he touches you?” he whispered against your lips, letting his fingers trace your sodden slit with deliberate intent. 
You could only whimper in response as he continued, drawing the fabric aside to caress your bare folds. 
“Do you make these noises for him?”
You shook your head frantically. “No, Jin never—ah!”
Jungkook growled at the sound of his brother’s name on your lips and slid his fingers forward, breaching the tight heat of your virgin cunt for the first time.
The pain and pleasure were so sharp and deliciously potent that you threw your head back and cried out loud. 
“Of course not,” he snarled, “because he doesn’t want you like I do. He isn’t driven near to madness at the thought of you in another man’s arms.”
Your hips swayed forward desperately at the sudden foreign fullness—searching instinctively for more. Jungkook wasted no time locating that sweet secret spot inside of you, pressing and coaxing it with such reverent persistence it was almost spiritual. 
“That’s it, pretty one,” he murmured heatedly. “Take what you need.”
Wanton cries poured out as you rutted against his hand, rubbing your swollen clit lewdly over his knuckles while he moaned filthy praises against your skin. 
“Let me have you, Sandflower,” he whispered, curling his fingers into your soaked cunt till the arousal slid messily over his hand. “Let me show you what it’s like to be adored.”
“Yes!” you sobbed as a sharp peak of pleasure finally overtook you. 
Jungkook growled in triumph as he pressed his lips to yours again—savoring the sounds of your pleasure while he worked you gently through your first release. 
How could there be such a feeling in this world? 
And why was he the only one who had ever let you feel it—this indescribable thrill that transcended mere physical pleasure to approach something almost like…
You had barely a moment to recover from your high before Jungkook was hauling you off the table and fully into his arms. 
Vaguely you acknowledged that he was taking you to his room (and what was probably going to happen there) but you were too preoccupied with tearing him out of his shirt to worry about the consequences now.
Your bridges were burning and you fully intended to dance in the flames. 
Every room you stumbled past on the way to his chambers was steadily overtaken with the same strange magic that had bloomed through the drawing room. 
Fires spontaneously flared in dormant fireplaces, figurines twitched to life, newly sentient ancestral portraits looked down in scandalized confusion at the oblivious (and enthusiastic) couple staggering through their halls...
And Pippin went tearing out to hide in his miniature outdoor doggie castle after seeing a fox chase a colony of rabbits through the wallpaper in the dining room. 
Your clothes were fully discarded by the time you finally crashed over the threshold of the prince’s quarters in a scramble of limbs and hungry desperation. (The tattered remains of your expensive betrothal gown would later be discovered beneath a traumatized painting of Jungkook’s great aunt Mildred.)
“You cannot possibly know what you’ve done to me,” he whispered, lowering you onto his bed, “—how I’ve ached to be close to you...”
Part of you was so afraid that this was a trick. That you would wake up to discover that the words he was saying were nothing more than a cruel and elaborate lie—
But there was such utter conviction in his voice as he spoke—such awe in his gaze as he took in the sight of you uncovered before him. 
Yet you barely had time to be moved by it before he was kissing you again. 
An irresistible magnetism charged in the air between you, mixing potently with palpable relief and the downright joyous acceptance of a passion that—in hindsight—felt oddly inevitable. 
All you could think about—all you wanted— was him. The spark between you had been building for far too long. Now it blazed out of control.
Technically you had never explored this level of intimacy with a man before, but your body seemed to find rhythm with his instinctively—as if it had waited for the perfect moment to shake off its mask of civility and revel in its true primal purpose. 
You should have been self-conscious—shy even—but those impulses simply never arose … Not in his arms. Not with his words wrapping around you like the warmth of a morning sun. 
Arousal soaked the soft core of your body and Jungkook hissed in pleasure as the thick solid length of his cock slid messily over your folds. 
“This might hurt.”
“Doesn’t everything?” you asked softly. 
The words were out of your mouth before you could think to stop them and the prince’s eyes flew up to lock with yours. 
There was nothing between you now—no clothes, no defenses...
No regrets. 
“Yes... It did,” he whispered, “until you.”
Tears drifted down your cheek as you lifted your hand to his face. 
Then he surged forward—sinking himself into you entirely with one perfect thrust. 
The feel of him nestled deeply in your sensitive heat was equal parts overwhelming and addictive. Your body bowed back in primitive gratification and for a moment you swore the sky mural on the ceiling sparked with literal lightning. 
Power unlike anything Jungkook had ever experienced surged violently through his blood causing him to throw his head back with a mighty roar. 
What are you? he thought dizzily as pleasure and magic raged over him. What is happening
The initial pain from being stretched so tightly morphed instantaneously into hot molten pleasure and you surged forward, bringing your mouth to his again.
Jungkook leaned back against the headboard, pulling your intimately joined bodies upright till you were facing one another. 
“So good,” he gasped against your lips and your walls tightened at the sound of his praise. 
His hand drifted down between to stroke your clit and you shuddered, reveling in the combination of fullness and stimulation. Your hips jerked forward involuntarily and you both groaned at the delicious friction.
“Hold on to me,” he whispered. 
Then his hands clamped into the soft curve of your waist as he lifted you, sliding your heat up the solid length of his shaft only to slam you back down over him again. 
“Yes!” You were nearly incoherent with pleasure—reveling in the sheer strength it took to work you up and down on his cock.
Words spilled out past your lips like the tides of a rising flood—words of adoration and want whimpered prettily into his skin like a prayer as he worked himself in your cunt.
That explosive release was building up again; Jungkook could tell by the way your body trembled wantonly against his own. 
“Look at me,” he growled, “I wanna watch you fall apart.”
His words were like kindling on an already raging fire. Every time he spoke it made you hotter. 
Look at me, Jeon Jungkook. 
Look at what you’ve done to me. 
You drew back, opening your eyes to let him see you—dazed and euphoric as you bounced like a toy on his cock. 
The sound of him pistoning in and out of your sloppy wet cunt filled the air around you, braiding in between your keening and filthy lascivious moans—
But everything else fell away when your gaze finally locked together with his. 
No one had ever looked at you like that. 
Like you were priceless.
Like you were everything. 
“I never hated you,” you gasped, unable to let the truth go unspoken for another moment. 
A beautiful smile bloomed over his features. 
“I know.” 
You came then—tightening brutally around him like a velvet vice. Jungkook shook with restraint as he worked you through it, letting the feel of your release build into his own. 
“Your sweet little pussy is holding on to me so tight, Sandflower. Let me come inside you please? You like being full don’t you? Isn’t that why you’re so messy, baby? You just want to be filled.”
“Yes!” you screamed. 
“Say it,” he growled, digging his fingers into the soft rolls of your hips for leverage as his pace increased. “Tell me who made your little pussy this needy.”
“You did!”
“And what do you want me to do about it, huh?” 
“Fill me up please,” you sobbed deliriously. 
Your pretty begging sent him over the edge with a carnal groan. His head dropped heavily onto your shoulder as he spilled into your womb, filling you till the evidence of his pleasure ran down your leg.
“I’ll give you anything,” he swore. “Anything you want.”
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Dawn trickled in slowly through the windows, spreading soft tendrils of light over the bed where you lay next to him.
Your mind was torn between elation and guilt. But your body...
Your body could still feel the imprint of his fingers where they cupped your jaw—could still hear the tender words he whispered across your skin…
Anxiety and reality begin to claw through the haze of pleasure.
Oh gods… 
What have I done?
You were betrothed to his brother.
… Yet it was Jungkook’s name you called into the darkness.
Jungkook who broke through your maidenhead as you writhed and begged beneath him.
Your passion raged well into the night, and now you lay in knots beside him, watching his chest rise and fall in soothing rhythm even as your own thoughts spiraled out of control.
In the end, you wrenched your gaze away out of self-preservation. 
Dawn provided enough light to make out the books and artifacts lying haphazardly on the small drafting table next to his bed. Notes lay strewn among piles of discarded quills and glass bottles...
Then your eyes caught on a distinctive shape resting in a glass case near the center of the desk.
After a moment’s hesitation—you reached forward cautiously to retrieve it.
This must be his.
Jungkook’s bracelet was very different from his brother’s. Jin’s was ostentatious—covered in sparkling rubies and square-cut diamonds—it didn’t suit your tastes at all. In fact, you remembered cringing at the thought of wearing it for the rest of your life...
But this piece was exquisite.
Thick golden vines and delicate leaves braided intricately around each other in a complicated pattern to form the width of the band… 
It was the most beautiful bonding bracelet you had ever seen.
Suddenly Jungkook stirred beside you and your heart broke all over again.
How could I have been so blind?
Stifling a gasp, you could no longer hold back the tears that drifted down your cheek as you studied the bracelet—knowing you would hate whoever wore it.
Or perhaps it would never activate—not if Elaena was his soulmate. It would have died with her life force.
You turned to make sure Jungkook remained asleep.
For a moment… I can pretend...
I can pretend he’s mine.
Holding your breath you carefully slid the bracelet over your hand and pressed it to your wrist—right at the pulse point—
And it burned. For several seconds it burned everywhere—inside and out.
Then it stopped as abruptly as it began. Your eyes flew to your wrist in alarm–
It can’t be. 
The golden vines of Jungkook’s bracelet wove together in a perfect fit, bound irrevocably beneath a glowing rune directly above your pulse—the same rune that sealed every bracelet pair.
An Integra rune.
It meant complete.
Frantically you began to tug at the bracelet, but it molded stubbornly to your wrist and would not disengage. Panic closed in from every side.
This cannot be happening! I had no right! The Council will be furious—
And Jungkook…
I never meant to trap you.
“... Sandflower?”
The heat of the bond forming had roused the prince from a heavy slumber. For a moment his gaze was soft and disoriented—until it landed on the glowing bracelet wrapped around your wrist and his eyes widened in shock. 
You opened your mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Your soul was laid bare before him and he could destroy your with a word.
Tentatively he reached forward, lifting his fingers to trace the rune.
“Complete…” he breathed reverently. Then his eyes found yours. “It's complete.”
You gasped as he pulled you close, tenderly brushing away your tears.
“You are mine,” he whispered, unable to disguise the wonder in his voice.
Hope swelled in your chest.
“I love you.” 
The words escaped without conscious thought, but his smile came too quickly for you to regret them.
He kissed you then and you moaned happily against his mouth as he lifted you from the bed to gather you fully into his arms. After a long moment he drew back, resting his forehead tenderly against yours.
Joy warmed through him for the first time in nearly a decade.
“It’s so much more than I imagined.”
You smiled and shook your head. “What is?”
“Love,” he sighed against your lips. “Love when it’s real.”
This was real. 
Jeon Jungkook was yours. 
And you were his...
Happiness swirled around you in glorious waves—
Only to be replaced by absolute shock when your mind finally registered the state of Jungkook’s bedroom. 
“Oh my celestial gods! What happened?”
The entire chamber was—for lack of a better word—alive. 
Glass shard butterflies fluttered romantically around the windows. Thick leafy vines sprouted out from the wooden frames of the bed and chairs. The clouds painted over the ceiling drifted lazily across the plaster sky. The tea service on his dressing table was serving itself and the ancient sea battle painting positioned above the fireplace raged violently within its frame—complete with canon fire and tiny little pirates sword-fighting across the canvas decks. 
Jungkook huffed out an astonished chuckle as he took it all in. 
“Actually… I think it was… us.”
A hysterical laugh bubbled up in your throat. 
Perhaps the rush of the bond forming has made him delirious. 
“Jeon Jungkook… I’m not sure what you were up to last night, but I was certainly far too busy to enchant your bedroom furniture with…” you shook your head incredulously, “wildly advanced magic.”
Jungkook crossed his arms and leaned forward in mock disapproval. 
“There you go again, Sandflower, assuming the world revolves around you—”
“It should, you know. I’m very important.”
“Of course you are—but do recall that I said it was us—not you. And it's true—we are absolutely the cause.” He smiled softly, letting his gaze wander around the room again. “Honestly it was so obvious every time we fought—I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out sooner...”
Jungkook’s expression was radiant when he finally turned back to you. His whole body seemed to hum with barely contained excitement. 
“You’re a polarity mage.”
“I’m… I’m a what?”
“A polarity mage—it’s an ancient magic—no one’s seen it in centuries because all the bloodlines that carried it were lost but…” his eyes darted over to where his quills were writing nasty notes to each other about who had the sharper tip, “it’s the only explanation.”
You drew back and began aggressively massaging your temples. A lot had happened in the last twenty-four hours and your brain was starting to hurt. 
“Jungkook, you’ll have to walk me through this—I’ve never even heard of polarity magic and now you’re saying I’ve used it—”
“Polarity mages can reverse the nature of any magic. They’re the natural counterpart of a necromancer because their abilities combine to form a balanced symbiotic pair.” 
He turned toward the dresser and carefully retrieved his favorite set of earrings. Then he held out his hand to reveal the two little jewelry bits dancing excitedly over his palm. 
“A necromancer can drain and manipulate life force—but we cannot increase or transfer it. However, when our energy combines with the aura of a polarity mage the result is—”
“Creative magic...” 
Your eyes widened in shock. 
Creative magic was nearly impossible to perform—the skill and experience required was extraordinary. What he was saying could not possibly be true…
And yet everything around you testified that it was. 
“But... how could I not have known?” 
Jungkook grinned. 
“Because polarity magic is mostly dormant until activated by a profound emotional catalyst—which—in this case…” he leaned forward to brush his lips gently over yours, “was me.”
“Mmm,” you hummed as he leisurely explored your neck with his mouth as if he hadn’t just dropped a life-altering revelation in your lap. “So am I going to have to hear about how you awakened my magic for the rest of our lives?”
“You really do know me so well,” he sighed, nosing playfully at the silky skin beneath your jaw. 
Unfortunately, the earrings—sensing they were about to be dropped—chose that moment to dig their spiky hooks into the meaty flesh of his palm. 
“Nasty little beasties aren’t you,” he chuckled. drawing back to dislodge the bloodthirsty jewelry. 
Your eyes widened in shock once again. 
“Jungkook… your scar…” Your gaze flew to your own hand and you gasped—not quite believing what you were seeing. “Our-our scars they’re—”
They were gone.
Completely gone—as if they had never been there to begin with. 
You ran your fingers over that small patch of flesh that had once symbolized the inescapable stain of your past. 
But there was nothing. 
Jungkook had fallen completely silent. After a moment you finally lifted your head to discover that his eyes were welling with tears. 
“I understood—somewhere in the back of my mind—that creative magic had healing and restorative potential, but I never expected—” the words caught painfully in his throat and he clenched his jaw as the emotions threatened to overwhelm him. “...I thought I would die with that scar.”
The significance of his words—of this moment—was not lost on you.
You had both come to believe that the damage inflicted by your pasts was irreversible. 
And you were wrong. Gloriously wrong. 
Healing and restoration were entirely possible when the two of you were together. 
Jungkook wrapped his arms tightly around you and for a long while you simply held on to one another in tearful silence. 
“My abilities were a curse,” he whispered, “but you have made them a redemption.”
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Six Hours Later...
Jungkook shifted uncomfortably as his brother paced about the room.
“And she just… went to bed with you like she wasn’t betrothed to me two hours beforehand?”
“I’m not sure if answering that is—”
“She did. It… happened.” He cleared his throat. “Repeatedly.”
He tried very hard not to grin.
Jin pretended not to notice.
“And you’re willing to face the consequences of this? To potentially fight our parents—the Council—centuries of sacred tradition… For her?”
“I was willing to cross many lines for Elaena,” Jungkook’s fists clenched, “—but nothing will separate me from her.” He rose to his full height and loomed menacingly. “And that includes you.”
A small smile twitched at the corner of Jin’s mouth.
“Good. That’s what she deserves.”
Jungkook’s jaw dropped. His eyes narrowed suspiciously.
“You’re being awfully accommodating and supportive right now, big brother…”
“Well… The thing is—” Jin shook his head. “Okay. Let me start over.” He took a deep breath. “Do you remember that deranged woman who drives me absolutely insane?”
Jungkook blinked several times and Jin attempted to be more specific.
“You know—the one from work who keeps bothering me with her face and her hip swaying and her total inability to see reason—”
“… Lin Yuna? That sweet archivist who bakes cookies for everyone?”
“Everyone but me!”
“My mistake,” Jungkook coughed.
“Yes… Well—she’s an expert on bonding bracelets. So I headed directly over to her office when my bracelet didn’t close to see if she could check it for some sort of… hex–or something—”
"You have no idea how craft works, do you?”
“None whatsoever.”
“Alright then—”
“Well we got in a fight—because she is the most unreasonable woman in the entire kingdom. And I accused her of being jealous—for some reason. Then she accused me of being an impulsive hot-head—which was rude. So I grabbed my bracelet and shouted ‘how’s this for impulsive!’ and I slipped it right over her hand and–”
“It closed.”
“It bloomin closed! On the wrist of a woman who has literally dumped tea on me five separate times!”
“Well… What did she do?”
“She screamed at me for a solid hour.” Jin’s face broke into a slow grin. “Then she screamed my name for several solid hours.” His eyes glazed over a bit. “I am unreasonably in love with her.”
Jungkook groaned and ran his hand over his face.
“Ooh, we are in so much trouble.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mom is going to kill us.”
“Exactly—which is why I think it might be best if we approach the Council together and explain to them—and our parents—why we’ve been casually slapping sacred bonding bracelets on women.”
“Technically my woman was the one slapping—”
“-the bracelet.” Jungkook rolled his eyes. “Gods, you’re an animal.”
“That’s what Yuna said–”
“I am formally begging you to stop.”
Jin chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender while Jungkook indulged in a generous chug of his wine. 
“That reminds me, little brother… Is there a reason all of our silverware can talk now? It made for a rather off-putting snack.” He shivered. “My fork started screaming every time I tried to take a bite of cheesecake.”
“... And you still kept eating it?”
“Of course I did. I’m a grown man. Wailing flatware is not going to keep me from cheesecake.”
Jungkook bit his lip—his eyes squeezed shut—
“It wasn’t that funny,” Jin grumbled several minutes later while his brother wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. 
“Yes. Yes it was.”
The elder prince just shook his head and sighed. “So… the Royal Council. Together?”
“I think that’s probably for the best.”
“... You have any idea what you’re going to say?”
Jungkook let out a long breath.
“How does ‘I seduced my brother’s betrothed the moment I found out she couldn’t marry him’ sound?”
Jin winced.
“Needs work.”
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Endnote: This story gave me a ton of trouble and I had to tear it apart and put it back together so many times I lost count. It has been through a hundred different versions (I originally posted a very different version of it for another fandom, but it barely resembles that early draft). Feedback and support is incredibly powerful magic. Even just the love you guys left on the teaser helped me with pushing through and posting. Please let me know what you thought of my story. I promise to treasure every word you say. The love people show my work fuels my creativity and keeps me posting. Truly it means so much...
2K notes · View notes
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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joonscypher · 17 days ago
Watermelon Sugar | JJK (M)
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☼ Summary: When your friends outvote you for your annual summer trip, you end up stuck at a beachside town. To make it worse, there’s an irritating local surfer boy that won’t leave you alone… that is until you see him shirtless and in the water - then you don’t want him to leave you alone and your unexpected summer romance begins.
☼ Pairing: Surfer!Jungkook x Female!Reader
☼ Genre: Fluff, smut, a dollop of brief angst, strangers to lovers au, summer romance au?, age gap au (Jungkook is 21 and y/n is 27-29)
☼ Rating: 18+
☼ Words: 14.4k
☼ Warnings: Profanity, mention of alcohol, y/n almost drowns, a classic misunderstanding, dirty talk, exhibitionism, handjob, oral (f receiving), face riding, protected sex, sub!jk, dom!reader
☼ Note: Here’s my fic for the Blue Crush collab! Thank you to @jamaisjoons​ for this gorgeous banner!! And thank you so much to my amazing, fantastic, magical beta @bangtanhome! Moon always saves my ass when I need someone’s big brain to read over my fics. Ily moon 🥺💙 Also! It’s still September 1st in the U.S. so I managed to post this in time for Jungkook’s birthday! 🙌🏽 I wrote more than half of this fic when I wasn’t sober, so enjoy!! 💜
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It’s hot. That’s the first and only thing you think of when you step out of your air-conditioned rental house and into the heat. The sun is beating down on you, the sweat immediately beading on your hairline. It is much too hot for May.
“I’m going to melt,” you groan, swinging the bottom of your sundress to create some sort of a breeze.
“Oh don’t be so dramatic,” Irene chides. “It’s not that much hotter than home.”
“Yeah, and nowhere near as humid, thank fuck!” Krystal cheers, skipping ahead of your group.
You huff, wiping your sweaty forehead, and hike your beach bag higher up your shoulder. Luna brings up the rear of the group, a small cooler in hand. “Plus, we all know you’re just being pouty about being here, Y/n.”
Crossing your arms, your pout increases, making your friends laugh. Luna is right and you’re not even a little sorry. You wanted your annual summer girls trip to be in France. The four of you have been going on summer trips since your freshman year of college 7 years ago.
You’ve been abroad a few times, in the big city, and in the mountains last year. This is your first year at a beach and you weren’t happy. You wanted to go to Paris and when your group voted on where to go, they all wanted to take it easy this summer and stay seaside. As a person who doesn’t know how to swim, you were against it. You were afraid you’d spend the entire trip inside or in the sand watching your friends have fun.
They assured you this wouldn’t be the case and you believed them.
This turns out to be untrue of course, as you now sit alone on your beach towel, watching your friends laugh and film videos in the water without you.
Honestly, you should’ve known, but it’s too late now because you’re here and your rental beach house is paid for for the next two and a half months. Even if you’re in some random beach town on the other side of the country that you’ve never heard of, already having a terrible time, maybe the rest of the trip would start looking up. At some point.
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It’s hot. That’s the first and only thing Jungkook thinks as he steps foot on the sand. The sun is beating down on him, the sweat immediately beading on his hairline.
“Man, it’s good to be home!” He cheers to no one, arms raising as he stretches.
Jungkook’s eyes sweep the beach, taking in all the familiar and unfamiliar faces. Honeycomb Cove is his home and he’s been aching to be back. College in the city up North is fine and all, and his freshman year ended without a hitch, but it just isn’t the same. He’s missed the sand, the sun, and the water every day he’s been away.
He also missed his best friends. His closest friends were all older than him, so being the baby of the friend group meant that his friends practically raised him when they were all together, and he hated being so far away from them. With that in mind, being away also gave him a chance to be a new person in college, having easily befriended his roommates and multiple classmates, as well as getting his very generous share of hookups.
College was the time that Jungkook took to find out if he’d ever grow out of being the “cute kid” that everyone in Honeycomb Cove knew him as and it worked. Between his new piercings and tattoos (that he was able to get for cheap, thanks to his roommate's brother owning a local shop), and his newfound love for the gym, Jungkook is coming back a different boy from a year ago and he can’t wait to see what, or who, he’ll be able to do back home.
Jungkook is excited to see his best friends and tell them all about his escapades, having texted them all as he left his parents’ house. Not yet getting a response, he decides to go to the beach. Instead of his friends, his brown eyes land on you.
He knows you’re a tourist because he’s never seen you before and he definitely would’ve remembered you. Legs bare, skin shimmering in the sunlight, body laid out on a towel, completely stunning. Jungkook adjusts his clothes before starting your way. Having been plenty successful in wooing college partners, he doesn’t think twice as he approaches you.
The closer he gets to you, the more his stomach flips at how good-looking you are. Your head is reclining on your tote bag, tablet in hand, earbuds in. Your sunglasses shield most of your face, but he knows all of you is equally beautiful.
When he’s finally in front of you, Jungkook waits until you notice his shadow casting over you. You pull your earbud out and put your tablet down, seeing him beam down at you.
“I hope you’re wearing sunscreen. The sun’s pretty brutal today,” he shields his eyes and looks to the sky. “If you’re not, I’d be happy to help you out.” He meets what he believes are your eyes from the other side of your lenses, giving you the best charming smile he can muster.
You slip your sunglasses down your nose and off of your face, making Jungkook’s breath catch in his throat ever so quietly. He was right - every part of you is gorgeous and it frazzles him, just a little.
“Does that line really work?” You respond, eyebrows raised.
“I- what?” That’s not what he thought you’d say.
“I’m assuming it has since you said it with such confidence.”
Jungkook recovers as quickly as he can, clearing his throat. “I’m a confident guy, what can I say?”
“Well, keep that same confidence when you go hit on a different girl on the beach, okay? I’m sure it’ll work on one of them.” You put your sunglasses back on and move to pick your earbud back up, but Jungkook crouches down to keep talking to you. He doesn’t want to lose your attention just yet.
“Hey, wait, I’m sorry. I think I may have come on too strong. Let me start over. I’m Jungkook.” He holds out his tattooed arm to you purposely, feeling successful when you pull your glasses down again and inspect his inked arm.
“Y/n.” You supply, reaching up to shake his hand.
“Well, Y/n, would you like to go for a swim with me?” Jungkook prepares to stand up and take your hand, but you surprise him by shaking your head.
“No thank you.”
“Uh, sorry. I uh-”
You scoff. “Oh, what, were you just anxiously waiting for me to be all like ‘oh yes, of course, take me away!’ or something?”
“Well… not exactly, but -”
“Listen, I’ll save you the trouble. I’m not interested, okay? You seem like a nice kid, but maybe a cute pick-up line will work on a girl your own age?”
Jungkook furrows his eyebrows, scanning you from head to toe. He can’t tell how old you are, but he knows you look amazing no matter the number.
When he voices this, you roll your eyes. “You’re not supposed to talk to a woman about her age, don’t you know that?”
“Sorry, but seriously, you’re beautiful and don’t look like you’re that much older than me.”
“How old are you?” You ask, giving him a once over.
“Hmm. What are you, a freshman in college?”
“Just finished my freshman year. I’ll be a sophomore next year!.” He says almost hesitantly. It doesn’t seem like he’s impressing you as it is, but he wants to be honest.
“Well, I’ve been out of college for about 3 and a half years, so…”
“So, what? You being older doesn’t stop me from wanting to get to know you more,” his voice lowers and he scooches closer to you.
“Well, it does for me. Now, I’m going to put my headphones on again and go back to my book. I’m done talking to you today.” And with that, you’re reclining again, ignoring Jungkook’s existence.
The younger man blinks a few times before standing up, intending to give you your space. Jungkook hasn’t gotten turned down in at least a year. From anyone. At all.
It’s not that he’s a narcissist or anything, but he knows he’s hot. And he knows other people think so. It’s why he has so much trouble believing you.
He walks away, pausing to look over his shoulder at you, before something you said rings through his ears again. You said you’re done speaking with him today. You didn’t say anything about tomorrow.
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“Oh! Y/n, who was the guy you were talking to earlier?” Irene asks later in the day at dinner. The four of you are eating at a small seafood restaurant on the boardwalk.
“What guy?”
“The tall one with the blue hair.”
“The tall, hot one with blue hair.” Krystal corrects her.
You genuinely forgot about the boy until just this moment. Being reminded of him, you remember that yes, he is hot. He is one of the most attractive men you’ve run into in probably ever. You did your best not to ogle him when he approached you earlier, but you’d be crazy not to notice how built he was, even in a loose shirt.
You clear your throat, swallowing the crab cake you just stuffed in your mouth. “Oh, him. His name’s Jungkook.”
“And?” Luna presses.
“And what?”
“What did he say?”
“He was hitting on me,” you shrug.
“That’s it? No number or anything?”
“He’s 21!”
“So?! You say that like we’re in our fifties! It’s our summer vacation, Y/n. Go wild, fuck a cute beach boy. Fuck multiple cute beach boys! Girls too!” She encourages you much too loudly, causing a few patrons of the restaurant to look over at you.
“Alright, settle down,” Irene says, putting on her mom voice. “Y/n, our crazy friend is right. You may as well have some fun this summer seeing how otherwise you’re just gonna pout on the beach for the whole trip.”
You give Irene a look. “I’m fine, thank you very much. I won’t just be fucking any cute boy, or person for that matter, that talks to me.”
“Why not? Remember that guy Sota you hooked up with when we went to Japan last year?” She reminds you.
“Oh yeah! And that other tourist we met in Thailand!” Luna chimes in.
“And there was that girl in the Poconos right before Junior year,” Krystal adds.
“Alright, alright, we get it. But none of them were younger than me. They were all older so it’s different. Jungkook has only been legally allowed to drink for a year.” Your friends all share a look at your words, rolling their eyes, clearly not believing you.
You’ll admit, you have a healthy track record with hookups, and maybe Jungkook being younger is arbitrary, but still. You’re stubborn and want to prove them wrong, what can you say?
You hold onto that stubbornness into the next day when you’ve sprawled out on your beach towel again, flat on your stomach as the sun beats down on your back. You’re on your tablet, scrolling for a new manga to read when you see a shadow cast over you.
Straining your neck to look up, you see Jungkook standing over you, clearly interested in the screen of your tablet.
“Wow. Beautiful, and a lover of manga? That settles it, Y/n, you’re my dream woman.”
You look at him over your sunglasses, taking note of the small sliver of skin peeking out from the bottom of his shirt. The blue printed shirt he’s wearing is unbuttoned near his belly button, giving you just a tease of his tanned skin underneath. “Well, what if I don’t want to be your dream woman?” You finally say, clearing your throat.
As if he caught the way you were looking at him, he smirks, taking this as an invitation to sit in the sand next to you.
“Oh, Y/n, how could you not be my dream woman? You’re funny, mature, and a woman of taste. You check all the necessary boxes.”
You click your tongue at him, rolling over on your back to look at him. You don’t miss the way his eyes roam your body now that it's on display for him. “Jungkook, have you ever even been with anyone older?”
He visibly falters, only for a second. “Of course. I’ve been with plenty of older people when I was in school.”
“By older, I mean mid to late twenties, not a 22 or 23-year-old.”
Jungkook clears his throat and looks out to the water. “I didn’t ask the age of everyone in school I was with, that’d be silly. I just know who was older.”
Judging by the way that he avoids looking directly at you, you’re skeptical about his claim. “If you’ve never actually been with a grown woman, that’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Deciding to tease him a little, you move your bare leg so that it rests against his arm. He isn’t looking when you do, so the sensation of your skin touching nearly sends him flying into the air.
You let out a giggle at his reaction, and if Jungkook wasn’t so flustered, he’d make a snarky comment at your teasing. Instead, he admires the way you laugh; the way your nose crinkles, and the way your lashes touch the apples of your cheeks when you close your eyes. He doesn’t know what it is about you, but something had him smitten the moment he saw you and it doesn’t seem to be going away.
Jungkook jumps up then, brushing the sand off of his white board shorts. “As lovely as it is to be in your presence, I’ve got to go meet up with one of my friends. I’ll come and find you later.” He sends a wink your way, but even he hears the hesitation in his voice.
“See you later, Jungkook,” you say in a sickly sweet tone and he rushes away from you before you see the way his cheeks heat up.
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You’re two weeks into your summer vacation and every day is more or less the same. You come to the beach with your friends, you go back and forth with Jungkook, then eventually you and your friends hang out on the pier in town, then do it all over again. You still think you’d have had more fun in Paris, but you won’t lie and say Jungkook’s presence doesn’t add some fun to your otherwise mundane trip.
Today Krystal is lying with you, deciding to work on her tan instead of joining your other friends in the water. You’re talking about dinner possibilities for the night when Jungkook approaches with two men, just as tall as him in tow. They’re all carrying surfboards tucked under their arms.
“Good morning, Y/n.” He greets you when he’s close enough.”
“Hi, Jungkook. Come for your daily rejection?” You tease and he genuinely laughs.
“Nope. Just wanted to say hi. I’ll be surfing today. You know, enjoying the water on the beach? Something you don’t do.”
“Ha. Ha. You’re so funny. Go on and have a good time.”
“I will. Oh, and these are my roommates from school. This is Mingyu and this is Yugyeom. They just got here this morning and will be around for a few weeks.”
You greet both of the men then introduce Krystal.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/n. JK hasn’t shut up about you since he met you.” The friend named Yugyeom says, earning a punch in the arm from Jungkook in retaliation.
“Anyway, let me know if you change your mind about coming out to the water, Y/n.”
“Mmhmm.” You say to Jungkook in reply. He sends you a smile and you watch as he walks away, hitting Yugyeom again.
“Wow. That boy is whipped for you.” Krystal comments, both of you casually watching the three boys pick a spot near the water to set their surfboards down.
“You think?”
“Girl, he comes over here to flirt with you every day. You just met him and he went out of his way to come over and introduce you to his friends. Yes, he likes you. And you like him too.”
“What makes you say that?” Jungkook and his friends are looking at the water and exchanging a few words.
“If you didn’t, you wouldn’t keep flirting back and would’ve told him to seriously fuck off from day one.”
You shrug. “I mean he is quite charming if not cheesy. I also like messing with him. It’s obvious he was pulling all the little college girls so why would I just give in?” You and Krystal share a laugh that very quickly dies in your throat.
Jungkook pulls his white t-shirt over his head and drops it into the sand. He’s close enough that you spy every flex of muscles as he stretches. His chest and stomach are much more toned than you originally thought. The skin looks smooth and is only a little less tanned than his face. You can see the tattoos that creep up his arm to his shoulder and only briefly wonder how a college boy had the time or money for all that ink.
He picks up his surfboard, his biceps damn near rippling with every move, and runs out to the water with his friends. The muscles in his back move with his steps and you ogle him until he’s further out of eyeshot.
“Close your mouth, Y/n, or a bug will fly in.” You snap your mouth closed at Krystal’s words and shoot her a look. “And what were you saying about not giving in?”
Fuck. She knows your thoughts too well. The way your brain flipped from “I’m gonna play hard to get” to “I will literally fuck him right here right now” is extremely embarrassing, but you’re a simple girl. If you think someone is attractive, you want to sleep with them.
At first, Jungkook was just like any other guy hitting on you, then it was a matter of being stubborn with your friends and not giving in to his charms, but each day you seemed to enjoy his company more and more, as simple as your encounters were.
And now, seeing his shirtless, under the hot sun and about to be dripping with water, the thought of teasing him vanishes. The desire to touch him more than simply shaking his hand or brushing against his arm is strong.
You don’t reply to your friend, instead opting to watch Jungkook in the distance standing up on his board as he rides a wave (you think that’s what it’s called. You know nothing about surfing but you just may need to learn). Eventually, you see his distant figure flop into the water and off of his surfboard, before you spot his head pop out from the water.
“Is it weird if I go over and meet him at the shore?” You voice your thoughts.
Krystal bursts into laughter at this. “You’ve refused to go to the water since we got here! He’s definitely gonna know how thirsty you are if you’re all of a sudden waiting for him over there.”
“Ugh, you’re right. I’ll just wait for him to come over.” You follow his every move as he paddles back to shore, eventually able to stand upright. The sight of Jungkook rising from the water, droplets dripping down every part of his chiseled body has you feeling like a horny teenager again. He raises a hand to run through his wet hair and you swear you almost groan.
“Fuck it, let him know I’m thirsty because I am.” You put your tablet in your bag and move to get up, but stop when you see the flock of girls that appear almost out of nowhere and surround Jungkook. He’s barely back on land and they’re at his side, clearly fawning over him. He smiles at them all, talking with them without even glancing at you.
“Wow. He didn't even make it to dry land before they rushed him.” Krystal laughs. “Still going over there?”
You watch as one of the girls holds up a beach ball and gestures to Mingyu and Yugyeom who are on either side of Jungkook. Jungkook looks up then, his eyes flickering up to you long enough to hold your gaze before he and his friends jog out of the water and plant their surfboards in the sand. He shoots you one more look before turning and following the girls back into the water as the group of six stands facing each other and hits the beach ball back and forth.
“Am I crazy, or did he look you dead in the eye?”
“Yep,” you answer Krystal. “The little shit knows I’m watching. He’s trying to make me jealous. He knows I won’t go in the water.”
“Does he know you can’t swim?”
“No, he just thinks I hate the water.”
“You do hate the water too.”
“Well I guess now I have to learn to like it.”
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Is going out to the beach at nearly 6 in the morning to teach yourself to swim when no one is around a bad idea? Probably. Are you going to do it anyway? Yes.
To be honest you had thought about figuring out how to learn earlier in the week. As fun as your banter with Jungkook has been, you were admittedly tired of sitting in a heap on the beach while your friends frolic in the water without you. Now that Jungkook is clearly going to be showing off in the water, you have to figure it out fast. If you’re going to keep teasing him back, you need to be on a level playing field.
Swimming doesn’t even look that hard. You just get in, kick your legs about, and move your arms. Seems simple enough.
The silence on the beach is a little eerie compared to how lively it typically is later in the day. The sun hasn’t risen completely, and the sand isn’t scalding as you step onto it. The waves are low, the tide gently moving in an almost peaceful way.
As you approach the water, you catch sight of a woman jogging with her dog, going in the opposite direction as you. When she’s far enough away you let out a surprisingly calm breath and drop your towel and tote bag onto the sand.
You tread carefully to the shoreline, dipping a single foot in at first. The chill of the water makes you jump back and let out a little yelp. After surveying your surroundings again and inhaling again, you step both feet in, the current only lapping at your ankles the deeper you go.
Teeth chattering, you step in further and further, the water moving from your ankles to your calves, to your knees, until eventually, it’s at your waist. You stand there for a while, letting yourself get used to the temperature as the sun continues to rise and warms your upper half.
It’s not as bad as you thought it’d be the longer you stand in it. You step in more, squatting to let the water rise to your chest. Steadying your breathing, you start to swirl your arms, moving the water around you and slowly getting more comfortable.
You take tiny steps in a circle, working hard to keep yourself balanced as you wade in further until you have to stand up and are on your tip-toes. “This isn’t so bad,” you muse out loud to yourself glancing towards the shore.
As luck would have it, no sooner do the words leave your mouth, do you take a step too quickly, losing your footing and tumbling backward. You flop in the water and attempt to stand up, but your bare feet don’t touch the ocean floor.
Panic starts to set in as you fumble to touch something to steady yourself, but find nothing. You feel yourself going deeper into the water with each flail of your arm and kick of your leg.
“H-Help!” You call out each time your head pokes above water, hoping someone will hear you. But the last time you checked, there was no one on the beach except you. You scream again, more water rushing into your mouth and filling your ears and nose. You don’t know how long you wave your arms, desperate for air, but just as you feel your limbs start to tire, something strong locks around your waist and yanks you to the surface.
You spit out as much water as you can and take in a huge mouthful of air. Your eyes and lungs are on fire and your heart feels as though it’s going to burst out of your chest. The person dragging you out of the water brings you to shore and sits you down as you continue coughing.
“Y/n! Are you okay?!” You recognize Jungkook’s voice and squint up at him. His eyebrows are furrowed in worry as he looks at you.
“Yeah,” you rasp out, coughing again.
“I’m taking you home. Come on.” You don’t object, still shaky as he helps you up. He wraps your towel around you and shoulders your tote bag as he practically carries you home. You hold onto his waist as he holds your shoulders, keeping you steady on the way.
Jungkook helps you inside and sits you down at the kitchen table. You’re both quiet as he sits across from you, inspecting you.
“Thank you,” you finally say.
“What were you doing in the water alone?
“I was supposed to be teaching myself to swim. Clearly, that didn’t happen.”
“No, it didn’t. You almost drowned, Y/n. Why didn’t you tell me you couldn’t swim?” His tone is stern and when you look at him it matches the frown on his face.
“I don’t know. I didn’t think it mattered. Then I saw you out there yesterday trying to make me jealous and I changed my mind. I’m just lucky you were around. What are you doing this early?”
“I jog every morning on the beach. It helps clear my head. I’m sorry about yesterday; I had no idea you couldn’t swim. But also Y/n, what if I hadn’t been there today?”
“But you were.”
“But what if I hadn’t?!” Jungkook’s face is flush and you see his hand shaking from where it rests on the table.
Slowly, you cover his hand with yours, and you feel the shakes subside. “Jungkook, I’m okay. You were there and you saved me. I’m right here.”
Without another word, Jungkook launches at you, pulling you in a hug. “That was so scary. I’ve never seen anyone almost drown. And it was you which makes it worse.” Jungkook pulls back, his eyes meeting yours. “Y/n, look, I know I annoy you and we don’t know each other very well, but I do really like being around you and I like you. I don’t wanna lose you before we can spend more time together and get to know each other better.”
You smile at Jungkook, hugging him again. “You do annoy me that’s true…. but you’re not that bad. I’m truly thankful that you were out there this morning. Thank you again.” Jungkook’s arms squeeze you again and you stay like that for a little while longer until a chill runs through you. The air in the house is cutting through your wet bathing suit, so you decide it’s time to change.
“I’ll see you later?” Jungkook asks when you walk him to the door.
“Maybe tomorrow. I’ll probably stay inside for the rest of the day.”
“Okay.” He gives you an understanding nod and starts to leave, stopping suddenly and turning back towards you. “Oh and from now on, we’ll be having swimming lessons. I’ll teach you, okay?” He doesn’t wait for your answer before he’s jogging away, leaving you there with a weird feeling in your stomach about him. A weird, unexpected, but not unpleasant feeling. All of a sudden the idea of seeing Jungkook isn’t so bad.
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When you tell your friends what happened this morning, they give you shit any chance they get about how you shouldn’t have been out there by yourself. They at least stay with you in the house for the rest of the day, the four of you deciding to relax in your rental, watching movies and ordering takeout from a restaurant in town that you have yet to try.
By the next day, your friends are still poking fun at you about what happened.
“I still can’t believe you risked your life for some dick and you wouldn’t even learn to swim for us!” Luna teases as you walk to the beach later that afternoon.
“I already said I’ve been thinking about learning so I can have more fun with you guys! Jungkook shirtless and wet just gave me more of a boost.”
“Yeah, yeah. And I suppose you’re going to let him teach you to swim too when we’ve all been offering as long as we’ve known you?”
“I, uh. Well-”
“That’s a yes.” Irene laughs.
“I’m, er-”
“Relax, Y/n. We get it.” Irene assures you, looping her arm through hers. “It’s summer vacation. You deserve to have fun and do what you want. And it’s not like we didn’t encourage you to hook up with him the first day you met him.”
“And let’s be real; if we were in your position and someone that looks like Jungkook was hitting on us, we would’ve already been riding him into the sunset,” Krystal says and the other two women eagerly nod in agreement.
“And speaking of Jungkook, look who’s waiting for you.” Luna’s words have you looking ahead and sure enough, Jungkook is waiting near the entrance of the beach you’re walking towards. You always thought he was good-looking since the day you met but seeing him after the other day and after he saved you, you can’t help but look at him with even more interest.
“Hi,” he says, looking directly at you when you approach.
“I uh, I wanted to make sure to meet you and make sure you're okay.”
“I’m alright. What happened is over and I’m okay.”
“I’m glad to hear it.” He offers a small smile. This is the first time you think you’ve seen Jungkook looking so nervous with you. He keeps wringing his hands and looking around.
“Well, I’m gonna go…” you start, but Jungkook’s hand shoots out to stop you.
“Sorry!” he quickly snatches his hand back, your arm feeling bare with the loss of him. “I was just going to ask if you were feeling up to it if you wanted to have a swimming lesson with me today. You don’t have to! It’s just an idea and I understand if not.”
It only takes you a second and you say okay. Jungkook is taken aback, genuinely surprised that you said yes, but recovers quickly.
“Okay! I mean, cool. Let’s go.” Your friends teasingly call out their goodbyes as you follow Jungkook across the sand to a spot closer to the water. He doesn’t say much to you on the way and when you get to the water he’s all business.
“We’ll start simple with just getting you in the water, getting you comfortable, and probably work on getting you to float.” You nod at him and move to take off your shorts, folding them neatly and tossing them with your bag. Jungkook follows suit, pulling his t-shirt over his head. You follow his movements with your eyes, taking the opportunity of being so close to him to study every ripple and movement of his muscles in his arms, chest, and abdomen. You don’t feel bad for checking him out since he does the same to you every day.
You follow him to the water, your pace slowing the higher the water starts to lap at you. Jungkook senses your hesitance and turns back to you. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“No, no it’s fine.” He holds out his hand to you which you take and let him lead you into the water. He stops every few inches, letting you adjust. Initially, your heart seemed to be racing the more you stepped in, but with Jungkook’s hands around yours, holding you steady, you’re more relaxed.
When the water is around your knees, he stops completely, letting the cold water soak your skin. “How are you doing?” His tone is soft, serving to put you at ease more.
“I’m okay.”
“You’re sure? I don’t want to push you.”
“Jungkook, I’m fine, I promise.”
He nods, trusting your judgment. The two of you move further into the water until the water is under your breasts while still only hitting him at his stomach.
“Here’s what we’ll do. I want you to lay forward in the water and we’ll practice floating and maybe have you start to kick your legs.. I’ll hold onto you the whole time. Just try and relax and you’ll be okay.”
You hesitate, the memory of doing something similar only yesterday coming back to you as well as the terror you felt.
“Hey, hey, Y/n, look at me.” As if sensing the panic setting in, Jungkook tightens the hold on your hands. You look up at him, your eyes meeting, and you see his gaze is as soft as his voice. “Do you trust me?”
Do you? You don’t know Jungkook very well other than the shared banter between you two for the past two and a half weeks. He immediately gave off a try-hard vibe and was acting very much his age. But, as many pick-up lines as he throws at you they’re always respectful and seemingly good-natured (as good-natured as possible for someone who wants in your pants anyway). He also saved your life a day ago and seems to genuinely care about your well-being. Even now, your life is very much in his hands, but he’s being nothing but patient and gentle with you.
All things considered, you do trust Jungkook and you’re not scared to put your trust in him.
“I do.” You finally say. Jungkook smiles softly at you and waits as you take a deep breath then lay forward in the water, his hands never leaving yours.
Your body is rigid as you desperately push yourself to relax. Your head is above water and Jungkook has stuck to his word, not letting go of your hands. It takes a few seconds before you settle your nerves and you realize you’re successfully floating and not being pulled under.
“I’m not drowning!” You cheer.
“I told you you’d be okay.” Jungkook laughs and the way your stomach flutters at the sound is new and you promptly ignore it.
You and Jungkook stay in the water for a while more. He starts to guide you slowly around the water with you still on your stomach. You kick your legs here and there with his encouragement. By the time you get out, all of your fingers and toes have started to prune, but you feel much more confident in the water than you ever have.
Things with you and Jungkook also change after that. You still see him every day for the next week at the beach, but it’s not the same. He teaches you to swim better and better each day. When you’re not doing that, you’re admiring the way he surfs, still not knowing much about it except how good he looks. Other than that, you’re lounging together in the sand talking which can range from flirting to swapping stories about yourselves to listening to Jungkook gush about Honeycomb Cove.
Being from this small beach town is something that he’s proud of. He’s had the same best friends all his life and has known most of the people in this town forever. As he tells you a story about him and his friends you can see just how much his home meant to him.
You may not have similar origins as him, having moved around a lot when you were younger, but Jungkook still loves watching you talk about your last few years since graduating college. You don’t seem to live with many regrets and carry yourself with the confidence and determination that Jungkook strives to have.
The two of you have been getting closer both personally and physically as the week goes on. Though you hadn't explicitly talked about the nature of your relationship, your bodies gradually moved closer; even going so far as to hold hands and sit closer together.
Jungkook tries as hard as he can to muster up the confidence that you have. You’re lying on your stomach next to him on your towel after a serious pro and con discussion about mint chocolate chip ice cream (you are strongly against it). Jungkook is on his stomach too and you’re so close to him that every time you shift, the skin of your arm rubs against his ever so slightly.
He scoots closer, your arms now pressed together. Another scoot has your legs touching and each time Jungkook’s stomach flips.
“Tryna cop a feel over there, Jungkookie?” You tease.
“What?!” He asks too loudly. You turn and look at him, a smirk on your lips.
“Don’t be shy. It’s obvious you’ve wanted to touch me since the day you met me and I won’t stop you.” You reach around and grab his hand, placing it on your ass. He jolts but doesn’t move.
He hates how much his hand feels like it’s trembling on your soft skin, and tries to control his erratic breathing. Jungkook is no beginner with sex - not by a long shot - but for some reason you made him feel like the inexperienced, nerdy little boy that's about to have sex for the first time. He’s known you for less than a month and he already feels different around you, which both scares and thrills him.
You sense Jungkook’s nervousness and make a note of it. It’s obvious that if you want to sleep with Jungkook, you’ll have to make the first move. With this in mind, you decide to tease him at every chance you get.
This includes touching any part of him you can reach as the days with him tick on. When you share your first kiss with him a few days later, you trail your hands up his arms and around to his chest, letting your nails scrape the warm skin. Jungkook lets out a shaky moan through the kiss, which drives you crazy. If Mingyu and Yugyeom hadn’t chosen that time to come stumbling out to where you were in the water, you could’ve very well asked him to take you to the shallower parts and fuck you right there.
This same, near-feral state sticks with you the next day as the two of you are sharing a wooden lounge chair on the sandy front lawn of your rental house. Jungkook comes to see you in the morning, as has become his routine. Instead of trekking through the hotter than usual sand this morning, you decide to spend time lazily taking up space on the chairs.
You start on your own chair, but the sight of shirtless Jungkook, sprawled out so close to you is enough to have you climbing onto the chair with him. You’re practically in his lap, but neither of you seem to mind.
“So I was thinking,” he starts as the music playing softly from your phone changes songs.
“Hm?” You eye the way his adam's apple bobs as he gulps. The skin on his neck is practically begging to be kissed.
“I want to take you out on a date," he begins. "You've probably been to almost every restaurant in town, but I figured we could have a real date that doesn't consist of us just feeling each other up while we swim.” Jungkook chuckles, but the sound dies in his throat as you move your hand from where it rested on your hip, to his chest.
“I’d love to go out with you, Jungkook. Although I won’t lie, I do like the 'feeling each other up' part,” you chuckle as a finger brushes over one of Jungkook’s nipples. He gasps and quickly throws a hand over his mouth.
Jungkook is shaking as your fingers trail up and down his exposed arm next.
“Feeling a little shy?” You whisper as you place a few small kisses on the shell of his ear.
“Y-you just make me nervous is all.”
His confident demeanor that you initially met with at the beginning of your trip continues to crumble as he turns soft and shy with only a few touches.
You adjust on the lounge chair so that you’re on your side pressed against him with one leg slung over his thigh. He visibly gulps at the shift in position, his hands unsure where to be until he settles for one on your hip and the other on your thigh.
“It’s funny, Jungkookie. When I first met you were so loud and obnoxious. You had this overconfident air to you that was so typical of so many guys I’ve met. But this other version of Jungkook is so soft and quiet.”
“It’s your fault.” He says through gritted teeth as your knee grazes his crotch. “You know how to make me like this.”
Feeling proud that you can make someone like Jungkook putty in your hands, you move up and turn his face towards you. His brown eyes are blown wide as he takes in your appearance. You’re sure you look just as eager.
You pull Jungkook into a kiss, lips knocking together sloppily but you deepen it anyway, your mouths eventually finding a heated pace. Jungkook pulls you closer making most of your body drape over him. The kiss quickly turns into a full-blown make-out session, the two of you only pulling back when Krystal walks by on her way into the house from the beach.
“This feels like public indecency!” Her voice makes you and Jungkook pull apart. She lets out a cackle at the look you shoot her, but doesn’t say anything else as she goes inside.
You let out a huff and lay back down next to Jungkook. He takes a few breaths, still clearly recovering, then says he has to head out. His mom asked him to grab some things for her before this evening and he wants to get that done so he can focus on your date.
“I’ll be back to pick you up at 6.” He says after placing a kiss on your forehead. You watch him go before beelining to your room to find something to wear.
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Your date with Jungkook is the first real date you’ve been on in a while. You’re more used to quick coffee dates or grabbing a couple of drinks and then either never speaking to that person again, or finding somewhere to fuck. These options were always easier than a real relationship, but it’s clear Jungkook is trying to change that.
The date itself isn’t special in terms of what you do; just your standard dinner and hanging out. But, you did go to the pier and play some games at the arcade and the game booths and in cliche fashion, Jungkook won you a stuffed animal (a bunny to be exact which you named Cooky because it reminds you of him). You went for ice cream after and met one of Jungkook’s best friends, Jimin, who graciously gave you both free cones.
Afterwards, Jungkook takes your hand and leads you to a more secluded part of the pier that overlooks the empty beach - the inky dark water and the starry sky.
Everything about your date seems generic, but it isn’t because Jungkook isn’t generic.
What started as you shamelessly wanting to fuck him and call it a summer, was morphing into something much deeper. You keep reminding yourself that you’ve only known Jungkook for a month, yet you still feel giddy when he takes your hand or looks at you with his round, sparkly eyes.
As if reading your mind, Jungkook voices similar thoughts.
“You wanna know why you make me so nervous?” He isn’t looking at you, gaze fixed on his ice cream cone.
“Only if you’re comfortable telling me.” You say seriously.
Jungkook nods. “It’s because you’re so different from anyone else I’ve been with. I've dated a lot of people - not a brag, by the way," he laughs, easing the tension. "But I've never met anyone quite like you. I can't explain it, but I feel different, in a good way.  I know it sounds cheesy, especially since we haven’t known each other that long, but it’s true.”
“I believe you. I feel the same about you,” you assure him. He doesn’t say anything, he simply turns and kisses you until you nearly drop your forgotten ice cream.
“Sorry,” he starts. “I got a little excited.”
“Believe me that was nothing to be sorry for.” Then you’re kissing him again, ice cream falling out of your hand so you can cradle Jungkook’s face.
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Days with Jungkook are spent exactly the same, but with much more romance. He is surprisingly even sweeter to you after your date and insists on spending every single minute with you that he can, even more than before. He tends to meet you at your rental house in the mornings and walk you back home in the evening when the day is done. Your friends have even invited him to stay and watch movies a few nights at the house and to a few dinners altogether. Things are going well for you and Jungkook and as shocking as it sounds to you, you believe that there’s something more there for the two of you. The more time you spend with Jungkook, the more your feelings grow, which is scary within itself.
Do you still want to fulfill your original goal of fucking him? Absolutely. But, you can also see something more with Jungkook. You haven’t found the right time to try and make more of a move on him. That is until he mentions one of his best friends, Seokjin, is throwing a huge bonfire party. He seems excited about it and even though it sounds like the type of party that was more your speed in college, it feels like the right atmosphere to finally take things further with Jungkook without getting interrupted.
When the day of the bonfire approaches, you spend most of the day doing a skincare routine, making sure you shave so that you're nice and smooth, and moisturizing from head to toe.
Jungkook texts you throughout the day as he helps Seokjin set up for later and asks that you meet him on the beach since he’ll likely be there all day. This gives you more time to get ready so you welcome this.
You’re picking out your outfit when Luna sticks her head in the room. “Almost ready?”
“Yeah, I’m just struggling with what to wear.” You hold up a crop top and consider it before tossing it aside.
“Just throw on a cute dress and call it a day,” Luna shrugs, catching a skirt that flys past her.
“But, do you think that’s enough? I need it to be a cute date outfit that’s suitable for the beach and also screams ‘fuck me as soon as we’re away from everyone.’ Am I overthinking this?”
“Yes, you are! Jungkook is gonna think you look amazing and fuckable in anything. He’s so into you, it’s obvious.”
You process this for a little bit before nodding and grabbing a mini dress to throw on over your nicest panty set from your suitcase. You and your friends head to the beach once as you’re ready and as soon as you see Jungkook you’re filled with even more excitement.
He’s standing and talking with a few people when you see him and as if he knows you’re looking, he turns at the same time, meeting your eyes.
The smile that spreads across his lips has your stomach in knots as he jogs over, scooping you up and hugging you. His lips meet yours in a kiss before your feet touch the sand again.
“You look amazing,” he compliments, eyes taking in every inch of you.
You mentally notate his words and wandering eyes as a win, then thank him. You’re about to lean in for another kiss when Irene clears her throat.
“While you two suck each other’s faces off, I’m going to go and find my own hot surfer to cuddle with. Where’s the booze?” Jungkook points her in the direction of a large cooler near one of the bonfires going. She offers a wave and heads over, Krystal and Luna following.
Jungkook takes your hand once you’re alone and places a kiss on it. “I’m really happy you’re here right now.”
You lightly slap his chest. “Don’t get all prince charming on me just because my friends left. There’s no one around to impress.” You try to hide your blush, not confident if it worked. “Besides, of course, I’d come. Why would I pass up a party and an excuse to see you some more?”
Jungkook’s blush is visible and he doesn’t even attempt to hide it. He only gives you a heart-melting smile in return as he leads you over to one of the bonfires with fewer people surrounding it.
“Hey, it’s Y/n and her boyfriend!” Mingyu teases when you and Jungkook take a seat on a foldout bench.
“Oh look, it’s Mingyu and his not girlfriend!” Jungkook shoots back, earning him the finger from his friend.
This causes the two of them to hurl playful insults at each other and Jungkook launches into a story about a time from the school year. You reach in a nearby cooler, fishing out beers for the two of you and he takes it, effortlessly taking a sip and continuing.
He and his friends banter for most of the night, making sure to bring you into the conversation when they can. Between some of their stories,  you and Jungkook get up and dance a few times, then you get to finally meet all of his friends from home. You know you’ve seen all of them around town since you’ve been here. They’re all kind and welcome you with open arms, letting a few jokes slip about how Jungkook has gone off on tangents about you at least ten times since you met.
When he gets too embarrassed, he bids them a quick goodbye to bring you back to your seat where you started, snuggled up under his arm, drinking, and letting all of your feelings go wild.
It’s been an hour by the time you’re compelled to make a move on Jungkook. Whether it’s the light buzz you feel or the good vibes in the air, you start to feel a heavy sense of want wash over you. You scoot closer to Jungkook, resting your head on his shoulder. He doesn’t pause his conversation with Yugyeom and Mingyu, only pulling you closer. Closing your eyes, you inhale the scent of him through your nose, loving the sweet smell of his skin even more.
Casting your eyes downward, you take in just how well his teal swim trunks hug his thick thighs. You’ve seen Jungkook in numerous states of undress throughout the month, so the white tank top and shorts are nothing, but for some reason, you still bite your lip at the sight.
Jungkook is still talking about something you’re not even paying attention to. He doesn’t notice when you pull the blanket he’d draped over you further up your body to cover your shoulders while hiding Jungkook’s lap completely.
Your hand starts on his knee, rubbing small circles over the skin. He hums in contentment and glances down at you, giving you a sweet smile. He’s back to listening to his friends as your hand starts rubbing higher up his thigh, until you rest it at the juncture between his thigh and his crotch. He doesn’t react, not until your place your hand over his soft cock. He jumps, immediately meeting your eyes and you send him a wink.
“Hey, you okay?” Yugyeom asks. Jungkook turns back to both his friends and nods.
“I, uh, yeah I-I’m good. I got a chill is all.” He throws you a look before going back into the conversation and you find your way back to his crotch.
You take your time to rub him, giving him a few squeezes every so often. Jungkook does an impressive job at keeping his composure and carrying on. It doesn’t take long before he’s swelling in your hand, getting harder with every stroke.
When you feel him poking against the fabric of his shorts, you slowly move your hand and slip it past his waistband. Jungkook jolts again when your cold fingers touch his hot skin, and he waves it off as another chill. His friends make fun of him, claiming he can’t handle the beach breeze anymore since he’s been away in the city with them, and he recovers quickly with a joke of his own.
You thought he’d stop you, but instead, Jungkook opens his legs more and leans back. Taking his invitation, you grip his cock full-on and he immediately lets out a low groan. The sound has you clenching your thighs and you squeeze him to hear it again. To Jungkook’s credit, he does a good job at keeping his voice level when he’s speaking, considering you’re starting to jerk him off in front of his friends and the other partygoers.
You set a steady pace, slow enough for anyone to notice what’s happening, but fast enough that Jungkook’s legs are shaking. He’s panting as quietly as he can, his hand under the blanket gripping your arm for stability.
“You’re doing so good, baby,” you turn to whisper in his ear, his breath hitching at your words.
“P-please, Y/n.”
“Please what, Jungkookie?”
“I-m - I just - I want to cum.”
“Right here? In front of all of these people? You’re such a bad boy, baby.”
Jungkook lets out a whine that has you feeling just how wet you’ve become. You planned to tease him a bit, but now you just want him to cum for you right here. “Y/n, I -”
The sound of sirens approaching suddenly interrupts the atmosphere, and you quickly yank your hands out of Jungkook’s shorts.
No one moves until you hear someone yelling for everyone to run. You jump up, grab Jungkook’s hand, and run down the beach among another group of people. You split off from most of them, trekking through some nearby shrubbery with your rental house in mind.
The two of you only make a few stops in the greenery, making sure you’re not spotted by the officers, and soon you’re sprinting the last few feet to the house. You quickly type in the lock code and open the door, finally relaxing once you’re both inside.
“Anyone else here?!” You call through the beach house. “Krystal?! Irene?! Luna?!” You’re met with silence, assuming your friends are still somewhere on the beach. Jungkook is sprawled out on the couch, catching his breath with his legs open enough for you to admire the bulge in his shorts.
Now that you’re away from prying eyes and out of immediate danger, the lust you felt earlier quickly comes rushing back, and you want to do something about it now.
“Let’s go,” you demand, and without hesitation, Jungkook’s head whips up to look at you. He scrambles up from the couch and follows you down the hall to your room. As soon as he’s over the threshold and the door is shut, you press him against the wood, bodies flush against one another.
“Y/n,” he groans as your thigh slips between his legs, rubbing against him.
“Tell me at any time to stop, okay? If you don’t want this we-”
“No! Fuck, I want this so bad. I want you.” You kiss him as soon as the last word leaves his mouth. Jungkook melts into you, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. He wedges his thigh under your dress, between your legs and you relish in how firm and muscular he feels against you.
The two of you get lost in the kiss, tongues caressing, hands gripping anything they can. You find a similar rocking motion against one another as your thigh rubs against Jungkook’s hardening cock and his knee hits your clit with every move.
The wetness in your panties becomes too much as you pull away from him, both of you panting messes. You pull him to the bed and push him onto it, quickly climbing into his lap and straddling him.
Your lips meet again in another heated kiss and Jungkook groans as you grind on him. He’s hard underneath you,  so you move your hips faster and pull apart to let out moans. His head lolls back at the friction, mouth open as more moans tumble from his lips and his hands grip your hips.
“You’re so pretty, baby boy.” You coo, hand coming up to cup his face. He lets out a higher-pitched moan at the pet name. “You like when I call you names?”
“Mmhmm,” it comes out a whimper.
“You like being my baby boy?” You slip your hands under his shirt and he jumps which ultimately makes him rut up against you and has him whining.
“Yes, yes.” Jungkook’s words are desperate, his hands still clutching your hips. He throws his head back again and you can’t help but lean forward and bite the flesh of his throat, sucking a mark there. The skin is soft and slightly salty from sweat. Leaving a kiss on the mark you quickly make, you switch to the other side and leave another there, Jungkook begging you at this point.
“I need you, please Y/n.
When you pull back and look at him, his doe-eyes are impossibly wider as he stares at you, an irresistible pout on his lips. They’re red from the way he gnawed on them as you worked at his neck. The urge to feel his lips on your pussy is overwhelming as you climb out of his lap.
“Clothes off. Now.” You breathe, already tugging your dress over your head. Jungkook follows suit, rushing to yank his shirt and shorts off.
You both stand there for a few seconds, wordlessly admiring your bodies. Seeing Jungkook in only shorts in the water is nothing compared to his nude form. You’re not sure who moves first, but you meet somewhere in the middle and your hands tangle in his faded blue locks as your lips meet again in a flurry.
The kisses are desperate and fast and match the feeling of Jungkook’s hands wandering over your body. Warm fingers settle on your breasts, his tattooed fingers tweaking your nipples, making you lean into his touch.
“One second, baby boy.” You reluctantly pull away and rush to your suitcase. It only takes you a few seconds to find the small pocket inside with the box of condoms you brought with you. You’re barely a few inches away from the bed before Jungkook leaps up to wrap his arms around you and lays you onto the bed.
Jungkook’s soft lips start at your neck, licking and suckling the skin, no doubt leaving you a mark of your own to find later. He makes his way down to your breasts, mouth latching onto your nipple and sucking which has your back bowing off of the bed and closer to him. You’re lost in the moment as he continues to alternate between your breasts, fingers pinching what he doesn’t have his mouth on.
When you feel Jungkook’s fingers dance down your belly and to your clit, you grab his wrist, stopping him.
“What’s wrong?” He asks, panic in his voice that he’s done something wrong.
You sit up and place a kiss on his nose to calm his nerves. “Turn over. On your back.” You tell him. He nods, scrambling to do what he’s told. Once he’s flat on the bed, eyes blinking up at you, you straddle his lap, seeing him tremble in anticipation.
“You’re so pretty like this, baby boy.” You coo as you rub his chest, tweaking his nipples a few times. Jungkook lets out a groan and squirms underneath you. As much as you want to continue teasing him, the throbbing between your legs needs attention now.
Your nails scrape against his skin one more time before you move to shimmy up his body, placing your thighs on either side of his head. Jungkook licks his lips, eyes locked onto the way your pussy glistens right in front of him. Once you’re settled, he impatiently reaches up to grab your thighs and pulls you down to his mouth.
Jungkook wastes no time in lapping at your pussy, the sounds of him slurping at your juices fill the room, mixing with the moans he has you letting out. Rocking your hips, you begin riding his face, his hands grabbing your thighs to keep you close to his mouth.
“Fuck, Jungkook!” You pant as he begins fucking you with his tongue, the muscle rubbing against your walls in a way that has you shaking already. “So good… such a good boy, don’t stop.”
Jungkook’s grip on your thighs tightens and he lets out a moan at your words, the sound vibrating deliciously against your moist lips. You rock into him faster and change the angle which plunges his tongue deeper and makes room for his nose to bump into your clit with every forward motion.
“Yes… yes right there, baby!” Your hands shoot out to steady yourself against the headboard as you wiggle against him faster, your orgasm hitting you fast and hard. A scream slips out of you as you hunch over, your body still tingling. Jungkook laps at you, cleaning you up and only serving to rile you up all over again.
Panting, you lift from his face, and Jungkook whines at the loss of you. He’s not left untouched for long because you scoot down his body, your core hovering over his hard cock. You take it into your hand, eliciting a hiss out of him, followed by another whine.
“You want to fuck me, Jungkookie?”
“Yes! Fuck, yes please, Y/n!” He bucks his hips up and continues to beg a few more times. You grab the condom laying next to your body and tear it open. Slowly, you roll it down his cock, taking your time to tease him along the way. He croaks out another plea right as you line him up with your entrance and sink onto his length.
You let out identical moans as he fills you and you begin to rock your hips. Jungkook’s hands shoot up to grab your hips as he starts to thrust up into you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you chant, as you find a pace consistently bouncing up and down in his lap.
“Y/n, fuck you feel so good!” He says through gritted teeth, eyes locked on your breasts as they bounce along with you.
“Yeah? Yo-you like fucking me?”
“Yes… so much… so good…” The younger man anchors his feet flat on the bed, knocking you off balance and falling towards his chest. His strong arms wrap about your waist as your hands hold you up on either side of his head. Jungkook uses the new position and fuck you harder, the force jolting you forward repeatedly.
“Ah! Jungkook, just like that! Right there!”
“Y/n, please, I’m so close!” A layer of sweat covers you both as he continues to pound into you.
“Gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna fill me up?” You whisper into his ear, placing a kiss on it before licking at his earrings.
“Yes! Please, Y/n, can I cum?!” He begs over and over again, his words starting to jumble together.
“Yes, Jungkookie, cum for me. Cum inside of me.” No sooner than you say it, Jungkook tosses his head back, hips pushing his cock as far as it’ll go as he fills the condom. He lets out a long, high-pitched moan that has you rutting against him faster and cumming soon after. You let out a squeal, your second orgasm hitting you harder than the first.
You both stay where you are as he softens inside of you while your breathing evens out. As much as you don’t want to, you move off of his lap, both of you sighing at the feeling of him slipping out of you. You flop on your back next to him, savoring the post-orgasm bliss.
“How was that?” You finally ask, a smirk in your voice.
“Y/n, you’ve ruined any other pussy for me that I’ve ever had in my entire life,” he says, eyebrows knitted together, but you both still end up bursting into laughter.
“I guess I’ve ruined you for any future girls too, huh?”
Jungkook stops laughing, giving you a goofy smile. “Well, I was hoping that I wouldn’t really have any future girls other than you.” His words make you flush and you lean forward, holding his face in your hands to kiss him.
This kiss is much sweeter than the earlier ones you shared and you relax into the feeling of Jungkook. You kiss him until you have to break away with a yawn and he makes a move to get up.
“Where are you going?” You ask, holding onto his arm.
“Oh, uh, I was going to go home…?”
“You don’t have to.” You don’t know what’s gotten into you, but a wave of bashfulness overcomes you at your words.
“You don’t have to tell me twice!” Jungkook grins, quickly disposing of the condom then slinking under the blanket, pulling it over you both. You didn’t realize how tired you were until you were bundled up and lying on Jungkook’s bare chest. Just like a scene in a cheesy romantic movie, you fall asleep to the sound of Jungkook’s heartbeat.
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Light has long since peeked through the blinds when you wake up the next morning. Jungkook is still fast asleep when you slip out of bed and grab your robe from the corner of the room. After tying it closed, you tiptoe out of the room and immediately smell bacon.
“Well, look who it is!” Krystal announces when you walk into the kitchen. She and Luna are at the table while Irene is at the stove, carrying a pan with eggs to the table. “How was your night, sleeping beauty?”
“It was good,” you say nonchalantly, eyeing the spread of food. “Breakfast looks good too.”
“Don’t change the subject! I poked my head in when we all got back sometime in the early morning and I saw you have a certain sexy surfer boy in your bed.” Luna teases, wiggling her eyebrows at you.
You shove a strip of bacon in your mouth, chewing slowly. “What time did you guys get in last night?”
Irene shrugs as she joins the three of you at the table. “Not sure. After the beach patrol busted everyone, we all scattered. I ended up going to that pizza place we went to the other night with a guy I met at the party. Luna and Krystal ran to another part right?”
Krystal nods. “Yeah, it was us and a few other people. We found a more secluded part and smoked a little before calling it a night. When did you and lover boy come back here and continue the party?”
Shrugging, you take a sip of Irene’s nearby coffee. “We ran back here right after everyone first ran off.”
“And then you fucked?”
“Yes, Luna, then we fucked.”
“And what was it like? Was he good? He looks like he knows what he’s doing.”
You try and think of the right word to describe last night, but all you can think of is, “Indescribable. It was better than I imagined it’d be.”
Your friends all clap and Krystal raises her hand to high-five you. “That’s my girl! See, you got what you wanted in the end! How does he compare to your hookups of summers past?”
“Yeah, I remember you saying just how flexible Sota was able to make you when you two hooked up last year.”
At the memory of your fling last summer you laughed. “Oh Irene, Sota doesn’t have anything on Jungkook okay? I don’t think anyone I’ve ever fucked made me cum as hard as Jungkook. I went to sleep dreaming about his dick okay?”
“Who would’ve thought your most memorable summer fling would be in some random coastal town.”
“Yeah, what Irene said. And maybe you’ll actually call Jungkook back after the summer is over. That girl from a few summers ago was hella persistent with her texts before you blocked her.”
You nod at Krystal. “Yeah and I-” You stop talking when you hear a throat clear behind you. You and the girls all turn to see Jungkook standing in the entryway of the kitchen with only his shorts on. The expression on his face is the complete opposite of the blissed-out one he wore last night. “Morning Jun-”
“Don’t worry, I’m on my way out. You don’t have to worry about me texting you too much.” You frown, trying to comprehend his words before you realize that he heard everything you and your friends were just talking about.
“Jungkook, that’s not what it sounded like.” You try and save yourself, but he’s already stomping to the front door, shoes, and shirt in his arms. “Jungkook, wait!” You run after him, following him to the front porch. “Please.”
“Please what, Y/n?” He turns quickly and you stumble. “I heard you, okay?! I heard you and your friends just now! It’s obvious what last night was for you.”
“It’s not like that.”
“So you don’t hook up with people on your summer vacations? I’m not another one of these hookups?” There is clear hurt swimming in his brown eyes and it’s painful to see.
“I… well, I mean yes, I have slept with people on previous vacations, but you’re different.”
“Yeah, I’m sure. Because I’m such a good fuck, right?” Jungkook scoffs and turns away from you to keep going.
“Please, let me explain!”
“Save it. I don’t wanna hear it right now. And don’t come after me!” He calls back, taking off in a jog down the walkway and across the beach to the sidewalk.
You watch him go, a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach. Jungkook is different. He’s the first person you’ve met that you feel an actual connection with. You planned on telling him all this before the summer was over - before you had to go and open your big mouth with him in the next room.
You respect his wishes and don’t follow him. You even decide to give him a day to cool off, before sending him a text to ask him to meet up so you can talk. He ignores that text and the one you send him later that night. He then proceeds to ignore your calls and messages for the next two days.
Each morning, you go to the beach as normal, waiting for him to show up, but you don’t see him at all. You don’t even see Mingyu or Yugyeom on the beach either when you try to spot them both days.
On the third day of Jungkook ignoring you, you go around to his friends that you know are usually around. You’re not sure where Jungkook lives, but you can’t imagine it’s too far since he jogs on the beach every morning. Seokjin, the surf instructor, refuses to tell you anything, dismissing you almost as soon as you approach him. One of his friends, Hoseok, is a lifeguard on the beach, and when you find him at his post, you beg to know where Jungkook lives. The man simply tells you that if you don’t need him for a lifeguard emergency, then he can’t speak to you.
Getting desperate, you go into town, begging his friend Jimin in the ice cream shop to tell you how to get to Jungkook’s parent’s house, but he also clearly knows what’s going on, because he asks you to either buy ice cream or get out of the line.
Defeated, you slink out of the shop and slouch to the ground, tears welling in your eyes. After spending each day with Jungkook, not being with him feels wrong. The way you feel about him now makes you miss him more with each missed text message and ignored call. You want so badly to see him and just explain. You admit that you shouldn't have been bragging so much about your night together with him still in the house, but all you want is to get the chance to make it up to him.
You’re about ready to scour the beach for any sign of any more of Jungkook’s friends when Jimin steps out of the ice cream shop on his phone. Ducking out of the way behind the side of the building closest to you, you stick around when you hear him say Jungkook’s name.
“Jungkook, I can’t just give you two gallons of ice cream! I love you but not enough to use my employee discount on you again…. Fine, send Yugyeom or Mingyu and I’ll send it back with them…. Yeah, you better throw in a tip for me too. Bye.”
Jimin steps back into the shop and the gears in your head turn. If you just wait around for one of his friends to show up they’ll lead you to where Jungkook is.
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“Stupid. I’m so stupid!” Is all Jungkook tells himself after overhearing you talking about him. He should’ve known a woman like you wouldn’t want anything more than one night with him. He’s just a kid compared to the people you’ve been with.
He’s mad at himself for even allowing the feelings he has for you to grow the way they have. Admittedly, when he first saw you last month, you were just another tourist, albeit the most gorgeous tourist he’s ever seen. Then he got to know you and the more time you spent together, the more his feelings for you grew, making his heart race every time you kissed or touched him.
The night of the bonfire, he was going to officially ask you to be his girlfriend and you’d figure out your relationship from there. But then the officers showed up and you went back to your place, finally having sex and the thought was gone. When he woke up that morning, he planned on asking you then, but as he was padding down the hall and pulling on his clothes, he heard you and your friends.
One of them said something about other summer hookups and how you finally got what you wanted by fucking him. Jungkook remembers the sick feeling in the pit of his stomach at your words and the pain in his chest. He felt tears prickle at the backs of his eyes but refused to cry until he was away from you and at home.
And he did just that, throwing himself onto his bed and letting cries slip out. Jungkook never expected to marry you at the end of the summer, but hearing that he was the only one who had strong feelings and wanted something more hurt like hell.
He knows you’ve been calling and texting. He can’t bring himself to block you, so instead, he just turns the ringer down every time you call and continues to absorb himself in snacks, video games, and self-pity. Ignoring the urge to go out and surf is killing him, but he can’t risk seeing you. He’s still hurt and is scared to have this conversation. Hearing the straight-forward rejection will make this so much worse.
He tells his best friends from home, Yugyeom, and Mingyu that the two of you aren’t talking right now, and that you may have broken up. This thankfully stops them from answering any of your questions about him when you come looking. They’ve all taken turns to stop by and check on Jungkook, making sure he’s doing alright, all things considered.
Yugyeom and Mingyu stop by today, playing video games with Jungkook and Mingyu even leaves to briefly walk to the ice cream shop and pick up some ice cream from Jimin.
“So,” Yugyeom asks in between trash-talking about Mingyu's gameplay. “Are you gonna tell us what happened with Y/n?”
“No,” Jungkook says without looking up.
“Can we guess?”
His friends exchange looks he misses, but don’t push the subject. They stay for another hour before they decide to leave, citing the need to get sunlight. Jungkook walks them out, saying goodbye and heading back upstairs. He’s about to finish the rest of one of the tubs of ice cream when he hears music playing from outside his window. He thinks he’s crazy at first hearing “If I Ain’t Got You” playing.
Jungkook pokes his head out of the window and sees you. You’re under his window, a small box-shaped bluetooth speaker raised over your head blaring music. He squints and sees the speaker looks similar to the ones you can win at one of the boardwalk games. He’s amused for a second until he remembers why he’s upset.
“Y/n, why are you at my house playing Alicia Keys?”
“I was trying to get your attention.”
“Well, it worked. Also, how do you know where I live?”
“I was at the ice cream shop when Jimin got your call asking for ice cream. I followed Mingyu back here and waited until they left.”
“That’s kind of creepy.”
“No one would tell me where you lived!”
Jungkook sighs, resting on his forearms. “Why do you think that is, Y/n?”
“I know. I know you’re still mad. I’m sorry for hurting you with what I said. I know it sounded bad, but please let me talk to you. I miss you.”
Jungkook hates how weak he feels at the soft way you say you miss him.
“I’m coming down.” He murmurs, disappearing from the window and going downstairs to let you in. The walk up three flights of stairs is quiet as he leads you to his childhood bedroom. You take in the messy room with posters all over the wall and books all over the floor. “So, what is it?” Jungkook cuts to chase, leaning against his desk as he waits for you.
Taking in a deep breath, you plop onto his bed. “I’m sorry, again for what I said. I know that it sounded bad, believe me, but I wasn’t talking about you to make you sound like a quick fuck. I admit that usually on these summer trips my friends and I take, I end up sleeping with someone that I’ve met that I’m attracted to and it’s usually left just as that. I’m not going to apologize for being a consenting adult and enjoying sex, but I’m sorry for seeing you as another summer fling - at first.” You make sure to annunciate the last part.
“Jungkook, every day that we spent time together, I started to like you more and more. You went from the hot younger guy that I wanted to sleep with to this funny, charming, sweet guy that I wanted to spend all my time with and know more. I promise you, that what I feel for you is real. I’ve grown to really, truly care about you and I don’t want to stop seeing you. Please believe me.” You hope more than anything that your words can thoroughly convey your feelings. Jungkook is still across the room, expression unreadable.
“So, you weren’t planning on forgetting I existed the morning after we slept together?”
“No! No, I swear I wasn’t. I was honestly just bragging about our night together and I’m sorry for talking about you like that. I’ll apologize as many times as you want me to, just know that I’m being genuine.” Your expression is desperate as you plead with him and he can see how your eyes glisten with tears that threaten to spill.
Without another word, Jungkook crosses the room and pulls you into a hug, and you immediately melt in his arms. He decides to believe you. If you truly only saw him as nothing more than a hookup, you wouldn’t have been chasing after him and going as far as to follow someone to his house. It’d be much easier for you to just leave it and go on with your vacation, but you didn’t.
He grabs your face, pulling you into a kiss that you eagerly return. The same jittery feeling that you get in your stomach when Jungkook touches you is back, but it’s much more intense this time. The feeling is the same for Jungkook and just as intense.
“I forgive you,” he breathes out after finally pulling back. “I’m sorry for not staying to talk it out with you. I was just upset. It’s not that you talking about our sex upset me, it was just the way that I thought the conversation was going that hurt me.”
“I know, and you needed time, I get that. Thanks for not turning me away again.”
“I’ve never had a girl serenade me outside of my window before so I’d be lying if I said I didn’t kind of like it.”
“Well, I’ll serenade you with as many songs as you want as long as you don’t ghost me anymore.”
Jungkook smiles and he knows the expression is dopey, but he doesn’t care. “Deal.”
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Things between you and Jungkook pick up naturally as they had before your misunderstanding. The rest of the summer is different than any other summer trip you’ve taken, and that’s okay with you. Jungkook’s friends accepted you again, and your friends even apologized to him too for the conversation he heard.
Things went well for the remainder of the summer, until the day that you and your friends need to fly back to the East coast. Jungkook is standing on the front porch of your rental house with you. Your bags are at your feet, and your hands are locked with Jungkook’s.
“And you’ll text me when you get to the airport right?”
“Yes, Jungkook.”
“And when you’ve boarded?”
“And when you land?”
“Jungkook, of course, I will.”
He rests his forehead against yours, the two of you standing together in silence.
“I’ll miss you,” you finally say. You’ve decided to pursue a long-distance relationship. You’ve been in long-distance relationships twice in your life, but neither worked out. Like you kept reminding yourself though, Jungkook is different. You believe that things between you will work out, even on opposite coasts.
“I’ll miss you too,” he whispers back, your lips brushing with each word.
“Hey, I really hate to break up your moment, but we gotta get to the airport, Y/n,” Irene calls over her shoulder as she inputs the code to lock the front door. She wishes Jungkook a goodbye and lugs her last bag to the car where Luna and Krystal are waiting.
“I promise you’ll get a text, okay?”
“Yeah…” Jungkook mumbles before pulling you into a soft, bittersweet kiss. When he pulls away you can see the wet way his brown eyes shine. “Hey, don’t cry, baby. I’m coming back for spring break, remember? And we’re gonna video chat when I’m home.” Jungkook nods, wiping at his eyes.
When you finally pull away from him, he walks you to the car holding both of your bags for you. Once they’re packed in the trunk you kiss again savoring the sweet taste of his mouth.
“Okay, I really gotta go.” You pinch yourself to pull away and practically leap into the backseat so you’re not tempted to keep kissing him.
As if knowing how much self-restraint you’re practicing, Irene throws a glance your way through the rearview mirror and backs out of the parking spot without hesitation. Jungkook watches you go, waving until you can’t see him in the distance any longer.
Your phone immediately lights up with heart emojis making you smile as you feel yourself blush.
“Gag! Are you gonna be all clingy with him even across the country?” Krystal complains, not even hiding the way she’s leaning over your shoulder peering at your screen.
“Maybe. Mind your business and you won’t have to see it.”
“Well, I beg you to remember how thin our apartment walls are. The last thing I need is to hear you calling Jungkook 'daddy' or something.”
You let out a laugh, and before you can stop yourself you say, “Bold of you to assume he won’t be calling me 'mommy'.”  
Silence takes over the car, followed by various calls of  “oh my god!” You laugh along with your friends, trying to push down the longing you already feel for Jungkook. This may be your first serious relationship in years, but Jungkook already has your emotions in the palm of his hand, and you know they’ll stay there once you’re back in your time zone.
You don’t want to even breathe the ‘l word,’ but it does cross your mind. You’re not there yet, but if your phone keeps vibrating with sweet messages the way it is, you can easily see yourself falling for Jungkook. For now, though, you’ll enjoy your new relationship with your dreamy surfer boy.
540 notes · View notes
cutechim · 8 months ago
picking petals|pjm
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summary ↣ you asked for a baby, so a baby is what you’re going to get. 
pairing ↣ f. reader x idol!jimin
genre ↣ married couple au|smut, fluff
word count ↣ 6.3k of pwp i’m so sorry
warnings ↣ nsfw (18+), good old-fashioned baby-making aka unprotected sex, post concert sex, impreg kink, mild pregnancy kink, talk about conceiving/not being able to conceive, dirty talk, soft dom!jm, sub!reader, thigh-riding, oral (f. receiving), brief cockwarming, handjob, cumplay, nipple play, praise kink, jimin is a pretty boy with a pretty cock, use of “daddy” in a non-sexual manner: oc affectionately calls jimin her baby daddy, gross amounts of fluffiness, too much kissing, it’s soft, there is no plot!! (currently unedited)
notes ↣ banner credits: 1, 2, 3, 4. this is technically a stand-alone one shot but it’s set in the owaw universe. enjoy!!
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Jimin knows he’s in trouble before he even steps backstage.
His veins are already pulsing with adrenaline, chest still heaving from two hours of non-stop exertion in the summer heat, but he can feel his heart rate skyrocketing from the mere knowledge of your proximity.
The show proceeded as well as it could have. Jimin takes pride in technical perfection, something that’s become second nature to him. He can perform this choreography in his sleep and no one would know the difference.
But he enjoys being present during concerts—being able to feel the ebb and flow of movement during the performance, using the stage as his canvas, letting the energy of the crowd guide him. Performing was his first love, and to this day, that zeal is undying, pumping through his veins as strongly as ever before.
Yet, he’d been distracted all evening, too busy anticipating the moment the curtains would close and he could get his hands on you again.
Even amidst the chaos of his entrance into the green room—a horde of crew members immediately swarming towards him, pulling off his mic gear and stage jacket—his eyes are able to find you immediately.
You’re conversing with one of his staffers—hair loose, styled casually as it normally is, and there’s a warm glow to your skin that exudes utter radiance. Your eyes are sparkling with enthusiasm, a broad smile filling out your cheeks as you animatedly discuss the show.
And if that isn’t enough to have his heart skipping a beat—your tight jeans hug your figure perfectly, the plunging neckline of your plain blouse providing a generous view.
And though his first thought, regrettably, is how much he wants to tear it off of you, your unassuming eyes light up with excitement when you catch sight of him, and an instinctive smile finds his lips in response. (How you still manage to take his breath away with the smallest, most innocent of actions—that’s a mystery to him.)
He utters quick words of thanks to his crew members as they disperse around him, his surroundings fading into the background as you cross the room to jump into his arms.
“Baby, you were so good!” you exclaim, throwing your arms around his shoulders, completely undeterred by the sweat-drenched towel around his neck. “That aerial was so amazing,” you immediately begin to gush, “and that other move—you told me what it’s called but I forget—it was all so perfect!”
Jimin chuckles in appreciation of your enthusiasm, equal parts endeared and amused.
“You think so?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
His mind is already racing to determine the fastest way he can get inside you, but he figures he has to try to show his wife some basic consideration before fucking her senseless.
His attempts sorely fail when your smile broadens to accompany an eager nod, his gaze falling onto the sight of your rouged lips automatically.
Fuck, if the image of them around his cock hasn’t been haunting him for the past few hours.  
“All of it—the choreography, the songs, all that hard work paid off,” you say, reaching to run your fingers through his hair, blissfully unaware of his affliction. (It’s an innocent gesture, but maddening to his sensitized nerves that are yearning for more of your touch.)
“I’m so proud of you, Jiminie,” you whisper, gaze achingly sincere. “You were perfect up there, just like always.”
He feels a twinge of guilt when your sweet, heartfelt words only leave him hungrier for your taste. He values your opinion more than anyone else’s; he cherishes every word of encouragement and support you’ve ever given him.
But what else could he possibly be thinking about, at a time like this? Every passing moment is precious, an opportunity for him to be buried inside you and filling you up again.
“I’m so happy you think so, sweetheart,” he says, pressing a more sensual kiss to your lips—now that the two of you are in the privacy of the hallway. 
You reciprocate gently, letting him take the lead as he molds his lips to yours.
Upon entering his dressing room—while still eagerly chasing your taste—he pushes the door closed with his foot, gently laying you onto the chenille couch.
He wishes he had the self-control to wait a few more hours. He prefers more romantic venues these days, allowing him to take his time and go slow (the complete opposite of most post-concert trysts the two of you engage in).
But this particular room is definitely on the nicer side—resembling a hotel suite with its fancy furniture, a full bath and restroom attached. And it’s insulated from the steaming humidity outside, a dim orange glow illuminating the space, fresh flowers gifted by the venue hosts sweetening its aroma.
Admittedly, this is only the bare minimum he’ll accept on your behalf, but at this moment, he simply needs to be close to you.
Crawling over your form, he bends down to give you a proper kiss, cupping your face with his hands.  
“What else did you like about it?” he asks, mumbling into your lips, refusing to part from them. “Tell me everything, baby.”
You know him well enough to know what’s going through his mind, responding to his leading words with a shy smile.
“You know how sexy you looked up there,” you tease, letting him cage you between his arms. “Anyone with half-decent vision could tell you.”
“I don’t care about just anyone,” he scrunches his face into a pout, shamelessly fishing for compliments. “Just care about what you think.”
He finds your jaw with a dip of his head, gently brushing his lips against your smooth skin.
You let out a faint sigh when he nuzzles your neck, trailing his lips along the contours of your skin languidly.
“Wanna know—” he pauses for a lingering kiss to the nook of your neck “—what my pretty girl likes.”
Meeting his gaze, you take the opportunity to thread your fingers through his hair, encouraging him to lower his weight onto you.
And he loves nothing more than to have you beneath him like this, chest to chest with your beating heart against his.
“I—” You’re distracted from your train of thought when he deftly flicks your jeans open.
Stiffening, you reach for his hand, your eyes darting towards the door.
“Baby—people might walk past—”
“The door’s locked,” Jimin assures you.
He’s a performer through and through, but certainly not an exhibitionist, not when it comes to you. No one else needs to hear the pretty noises you make for him, or to see you all wet and needy.  
“And they won’t be able to hear, it’s soundproof.”
It speaks volumes about how much you trust him, that the tension in your shoulders instantly dissipates, your grasp loosening on his hands to permit him to continue.
He gathers the dark denim of your jeans in his hands, waiting for your approval before pulling them down to expose your panties.
“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he utters, hooking a finger into the scant fabric, gently circling his thumb over your clothed clit. “Let me take care of you.”
He’d been hasty about it this morning, and though you insisted you didn’t mind (more accurately: thoroughly enjoyed the rare appearance of his rougher side), the future mother of his children deserves to be taken care of properly.
He gently traces your slit over your panties, pleased to find the fabric soaked through already—a fact that has your face flushing with warmth.
It’s adorable, how you still get flustered by his amorous advances, even after years of being together. It reassures him, that you’re still as smitten with him as he is with you, that the butterflies are yet to subside despite the rollercoaster of highs and lows that you’ve seen each other through.
You hesitate for a moment, as if to debate whether or not to beg him to get inside you as fast as possible, but the sensation of his thumb brushing against your clit coaxes the desirous words out of you.
“I—I was thinking about riding your thighs,” you admit, taking your lower lip between your teeth. “They always look so good on stage, when you dance...”
Jimin hums in approval, feeling his length stir at the mere thought of you on top of him, immersed solely in your own pleasure.
“Yeah, baby? Want to use me to get yourself off?”
With a flushed nod, “Want to get you all wet and messy,” you add breathlessly.
Jimin rewards you with more friction, rubbing the heel of his thumb against your sensitive nub. A little mewl escapes from your lips at the sensation, hips flitting upwards to chase the gratification.
He knows your body, every inch of your flesh, better than his own. He knows exactly what makes you tick, what makes your toes curl in pleasure, how to coax those pretty sounds from your mouth.
And he knows what you like on him as well—it isn’t like he doesn’t notice you eyeing his ass and thighs in this particular pair of pants. But he certainly doesn’t mind hearing you say it, too.
“What else, sweetheart?” he purrs. “That’s not all, is it?”
You squirm beneath him, impatiently grinding into his fingers.
“I want to touch your pretty cock,” you whine, letting out a whimper when he attaches his lips to the dip of your collarbones, nipping gently. “Want to feel you get hard for me, make you feel good.”
Your breathing is becoming ragged, whines growing desperate as he continues his leisurely teasing with an expectant expression.
“I—I just want you to fuck me,” you plead, a swipe of his fingers against your clit snapping your resolve. “Wanna be full of your cock. Fuck a baby into me, Jimin, please.”
He can’t help but kiss you again—earnestly, rougher than he normally likes to, but his fervor is matched by your eager reciprocation, your hips rolling against his impatiently.
After more than a year of marriage to solidify the fact, Jimin can testify to every single cliche he’s ever heard about finding the one. He can see his entire future reflected in your starry-eyed gaze, all the encouragement and assurance he could ever need spoken in your voice only. The intimacy of the stage of life you’ve reached together is only more proof of that.
“Were you good for me?” he asks, his own breath becoming slightly uneven as his mind races in anticipation. “Did you keep your legs up after I left?”
It’s shameless, the way he relishes in the visual from this morning—you in his oversized T-shirt and nothing else, your bare legs resting vertically against the headboard of the bed, cunt plugged up with his seed.
You nod shyly, rubbing your thighs together in an adorable yet infuriatingly-arousing manner.
“You can check,” you breathe out.
It’s an invitation rather than an offer of proof, one eagerly given and even more eagerly accepted.
He drops a kiss to your chin before reaching for the waistband of your jeans, peeling them off your skin to leave you in the scant satin number you have on underneath. A swift tug on your blouse reveals your nipples provocatively visible underneath sheer tulle, the pink of your bra’s binding painting a vivid streak against your skin.
“Fuck,” Jimin mutters under his breath, momentarily distracted by the sight. (Just long enough for you to decide that the new purchase was worth it, simply for the look on his face.) “I have such a hot wife.”
You giggle in response, allowing him to press a grinning kiss to your sternum before lifting your hips to help him shimmy your panties off of you.
He’s greeted by the view he’s been eagerly anticipating all day—your stuffed cunt, still slightly swollen from the treatment he afforded you earlier.
Using his fingers to spread your lips apart, he has to wait a few moments for his cum to begin leaking out, the watery liquid dripping from your lips only sparsely. The fact has him preening, his chest filled with smug pride—knowing that he’d filled you up properly, with his cum deep inside you where it belongs.
It isn’t like the pearly-clear substance coating your walls is a foreign sight. You nearly always convince him to cum inside you, pleading with that doe-like pout of yours until you get your way.
But things are different now, now that your pills have officially been tossed. Now, when you beg him to fuck a baby into you, it isn’t just a fantasy or a distant possibility—no, he’s actually going start a family with the girl of his dreams.
And if he’d been crazy about you before, he’s insatiable now.
Thoughts of you occupy his mind constantly, everything from the most innocent images of you as the beautiful mother you’d be to his children, to what it would be like to cradle your belly and play with your swollen tits while he fucked you from behind.
“Shit, that’s so hot,” he curses under his breath, palming his crotch to relieve the ache that’s building there.
You shiver below him as he runs a finger along the seam of your entrance, fresh dampness already slickening your walls.
“You’re so pretty, baby,” he coos, lifting his reverent gaze back towards you. “You didn’t waste a single drop, did you?”
You nod immediately. “I kept it all in,” you promise, spreading your legs wider for his viewing pleasure.
The earnestness in your voice has his cock stirring.
“I know you did, Princess,” he acknowledges with a breathy exhale. “You want me to get you round and swollen with my baby, don’t you?”
“Please, Jimin,” you beg, once again squirming to get some friction between your legs. “So, so badly.”
Your gaze is so desperately sincere that he has to resist the urge to forget everything else, to spend the next hour simply kissing and teasing you—just to hear more of that sweet, needy voice of yours.
But the sight of your leaking cunt beckons him with primal urgency, overshadowing the flowery sensation in his chest.
If you want a baby, you’re going to get a baby.
“Get on top of me, sweetheart.”
You eagerly comply, swiftly pulling your panties off and switching spots with him. Your hair falls forward to frame your face as you lean over to unbutton his pants, a quick swipe of your fingers popping them open.
To help you out, he pushes his jeans down just enough to expose his thigh, while you clamor for the hem of his sweat-soaked shirt. Your fingernails scrape against his skin lightly when you pull the white tee over his head, before reaching to release his cock from his briefs.
His length instantly springs out of the confines of the fabric, already rock hard and leaking from the tip.
You eagerly wrap your fingers around his girth, but he reaches to stop you.
“Not yet,” he says, lifting you up by your hips to pull you forward, slotting your bent knees on either side of his thigh. He instantly feels your wet folds brush against his skin, a mixture of your fluids and his sweat beginning to mix onto his leg. “I’m not going to last long. Just get yourself ready for me.”
You don’t need him to elaborate, readjusting yourself on his leg, the lips of your cunt rubbing against his flexed muscle.
Hesitating slightly, “I might need some help,” you admit.
You’re clearly seeking reassurance with that worried frown of yours, but he can’t pass up the opportunity to tease you.
“My pillow princess isn’t used to doing the work for herself, huh?”
Your lower lip juts out in a pouty display of displeasure.
“I am not a pillow princess.”
It’s a total lie, but he certainly doesn’t mind.
“Don’t worry, I’ll help you,” he affirms with a cheeky grin, leaning forward to drop a kiss on your forehead. “Tell me how to make you feel good.”
He doesn’t require instructions anymore, but he won’t turn down the opportunity to hear the words in your silky voice.
“Touch me,” you request, breathily. “Wherever you want, just touch me.”
He takes the directions easily, placing his hands on your thighs, enjoying the softness of your skin as he slides them further to cup your ass.
Spurred on by his reassuring touch, you begin rocking against him, easing yourself into the movements slowly.
It takes a few moments for you to adjust to the feeling, but within a minute, you find your stride—grinding down into him while he keeps his thigh flexed.
Jimin’s eyes are instantly drawn to your chest, to the glistening sheen of sweat coating your breasts. Each roll of your hips sends the rounded flesh bouncing in your bra, the fabric lying taut over your perked nipples.
Small whines and whimpers accompany your rhythmic movements, eyes fluttering shut as a wave of pleasure begins to mount in your core.
With a firm grip on the curve of your ass, he reinforces your steady pace, guiding your hips. The wetness of your cunt has smeared onto his skin, allowing you to glide along the length of his thigh without any harsh friction.
And lying beneath you, Jimin is fairly certain he’ll blow his load just from the visual he’s blessed with, without a single stroke of stimulation. There are very few things he enjoys more than fucking you raw, and just seeing you fall apart for him, using his body for your own pleasure—that’s one of them.
For an extended moment, he allows his gaze to linger on your figure, soaking up the beauty in front of him—everything from your pretty eyelashes fluttering with pleasure, to the way your tits sway with each thrust of your hips.
“There you go, baby,” Jimin can’t help but coo, ignoring the ache of his neglected cock. “Look at you, making a mess on me. Is this what you wanted?”
You nod immediately, trying to stifle a moan as you drag your clit against him.
“Let me hear you, pretty girl. No one else is around.”
You let out a soft whimper while continuing to rock against him, prompting Jimin to slide his hands up to the clasp of your bra. With a deft flick of his fingers, he releases your tits from the fabric, tossing the dainty garment onto the pile of clothes at the foot of the couch.
Tweaking one of your nipples in between his fingertips, he rubs circles with his thumb against the other, feeling your peaks pebble under his touch.
“Keep doing that, Jimin,” you gasp, leaning forward onto your hands for a better angle against your clit. “Keep—” you take a clipped breath “—doing that.”
He has no intention of stopping, but your lowered position now gives you perfect access to his leaking cock. You drop a harmless kiss to his base between thrusts of your hips, but then another to his tip, and then one with a hint of tongue—
“Baby,” he interrupts you firmly, taking his desperate, twitching cock into his palm. He barely manages to force out the words, “I want you to cum first.”
You give him that doe-eyed look in response, begging him to reconsider.
“I wanna touch you, Jiminie,” you plead, leaning forward to rest your head on his chest, keeping your legs tangled around his thigh.
Continuing to grind into him, you gently take his cock from his grasp, your imploring gaze fixed on him. “Wanna make sure my baby daddy feels good too.”
He nearly chokes on his own spit at the unfamiliar term, the throb of his dick confirming that the surprise is a welcome one.
You remain completely unaware of his affliction, continuing without missing a beat.
“You have such a pretty cock,” you purr, tracing the prominent vein decorating his underside, teasing his sensitive skin with the feather-like lightness of your touch. “Please, just let me make my pretty boy feel good.”
You’ve certainly come a long way since the two of you first slept together, when you could barely say the word “cock” without a shy stammer. Now, your coy veil is a weapon you use to your own advantage, lifting it off strategically to leave him at your mercy.
“Okay, just—”
You don’t even let him finish his sentence, giving him a pump that has his previously-neglected cock spurring to life, jumping in your hand.
Melting into your touch instantly, he has no choice but to wrap an arm around your frame, his skin craving close proximity to yours. There’s no point resisting his fate—he’s putty in your hands if you decide you want him so, and the way his hips automatically jerk forward into your fondling strokes is proof of that.
Gently circling his weeping slit with your thumb, you spread his precum around the head of his cock, before reaching between your legs to gather the slick that’s dripping from your folds.
You rub his length up and down with your fluids, using them as lubricant for your gentle pumps.
The stimulation hits him all at once—your face buried in his chest, hips rutting against his leg, fingers wrapped around his girth.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he whispers, holding your naked body against his, fingers splayed across your ass for a tight grasp. He takes his other hand to brush a few strands of hair out of your face, looking down at your blissed out expression. “You’re so needy today, baby, aren’t you?”
You nod shamelessly, meeting his gaze with guileless eyes.
He massages the supple flesh of your ass with his palm, encouraging you to keep rocking your hips.
You let out a faint moan in response, release fast-approaching—if your erratic breaths are any indication.
Pressing a kiss to your forehead, “This morning wasn’t enough for you?”
“N-no,” you whimper, caressing him with languid strokes while your cheek rests on his sweat-slickened chest. “Want more.”
Jimin returns his fingers to your nipples, gently rolling them under the pads of his fingertips.
“Take it then, baby,” he encourages you softly. “Take what’s yours.”
You cum with a breathy cry, a shudder running through your frame, limbs going slack in his arms.
Jimin holds you close until the tremor makes its way through your system, pausing to afford you an opportunity to breathe before flipping you over and stuffing you full.
But the moment you catch your breath, your lips are on his.
He’s caught by surprise with how earnestly you kiss him, hands exploring his bare torso, but he accepts the advance easily, breathing life into the kiss with a gentle swipe of his tongue.
You reach to fiddle with the chain around his neck, entangling your fingers with the metal and making yourself comfortable on his chest.
It’s easy to melt into the feeling, your soft hair between his fingers, plush lips caressing his chin and cheeks, chest pressed up against his. In between heavy lids, he catches sight of your crossed legs, feet leisurely suspended in the air.
And the fact is equal parts endearing and amusing.
“I’m not complaining,” he says, smiling in between stolen kisses, “but I thought we were, you know—fucking.”
“You can put it inside,” you hum nonchalantly, continuing to lavish his lips with yours. “Just wanna kiss you for a little longer.”
He can’t help but chuckle at that, though he appreciates the brief lull—it allows the fog of adrenaline from the concert to clear. With his blind lust satiated by the eroticism of what transpired, he can appreciate your presence for what it is.
Comfort. Happiness that seems to seep through his skin and soak him down to his bones.
And so he focuses on the feeling of your lips—soft as the inside of a rose—as you align his cock with your entrance and sink down onto him.
“I love you so much,” he says softly, as your walls ease him into a tight, velvety embrace. The warmth spreads throughout him with an emanating pulse—and once he has your frame wrapped in his arms, his chest is full to the very brim. “You know that, right?”
An endeared smile fills your cheeks as you cup his face with both hands, peppering soft kisses to his nose, mouth, chin.
“You make it hard to forget,” you whisper, stroking his hair as you continue to kiss him, sucking gently on his lower lip. “I love you too, baby. Our kids are going to be so lucky to have you.”
His body responds for him, cheeks flushing pink, cock twitching inside you impatiently.
“Don’t say stuff like that,” he whines. “It’s hard enough for me to last these days.”
Your lips curve into a moony smile, eyes flitting down to his lips momentarily. 
It’s ineffable, what you convey with just that little look—a contrast between contentment, complete happiness, and anticipation, so much excitement and optimism for the future.
“It’s true. You’re going to be an amazing dad.”
His face is practically aflame, and for a moment, he forgets everything else.
“You really mean that?”
You’ve assured him a million times, but years of believing otherwise have left their scars. He’s lucky in that regard, that you’re willing to say it again and again, with as much conviction as the first time.
“I know it,” you assert with a tender gaze, stroking his cheek with your thumb. “I can’t wait to make you one.”
You have him under some sort of spell—he’s convinced of that. There’s a form of magic laced in that silvery voice of yours, because he truly believes you. He can see the best version of himself reflected in your eyes, someone selfless and loving, someone worthy of creating life with you.
With one last peck to your lips, he takes you by the waist, gently pulling you off his cock.
“Do you want me to—”
“It’s okay, baby. Just let me take care of you.” He shifts to lay beside you, situating his chest against your back. Snaking a hand between your legs, he rubs a few teasing circles into your clit, eagerly soaking up the pretty sighs that come from you in response.
Gently lifting your leg, he brings his cock to your dripping entrance, nudging your lips open with his head. Collecting more of your slick on his tip, he spreads it along his length with his palm, giving himself a few shallow pumps.
“My gorgeous wife,” he hums upon entering you—slowly, supporting your leg to keep you open wide as his girth forces your walls apart. “I’m gonna give you exactly what you want, I promise.”
As always, despite sliding in without resistance, his size still takes a moment for you to adjust to, and you let out a soft mewl when he finally bottoms out inside you.
“So big, Jiminie,” you whimper, cunt clenching around him erratically.
“Too much?” he asks immediately. “Am I hurting you?”
“No, no,” you shake your head. “It’s good—wanna be full of you.”
He presses a kiss to the back of your neck, attaching his lips there to suck a gentle bruise while his fingers return to your clit. Your silken walls pulse around his length as he flicks at your swollen bud, remaining buried deeply within you throughout.
Despite being unable to see your face, the intimacy conferred by this position—being able to spoon the curve of your backside, hands free to roam your tits and soon-to-be swollen belly—is incomparable. 
He can’t stop imagining what it’ll be like to feel your shared love growing inside you, to caress your rounded flesh as he holds you in this very position.
And though your soft moans communicate your own bliss as he continues to tease your clit, he can feel you grinding your ass back into him impatiently, begging for movement.
He complies, pulling out slightly, then testing shallow strokes to get you acclimated to the friction. Pleasured sighs fall from your lips with each rut, the sounds stringing together to form an intoxicating melody. Maintaining a persistent rhythm with his fingers, he pulls out almost completely, before fucking back into you deeper than before.
“Ah—god, Jimin, keep going,” you plead, prompting him to set a slow yet potent pace. “Don’t stop, please.”
He can’t anyways—doesn’t want to, relishing in the sound of his name falling from your lips over and over again. Your cunt is warm and wet around him, juices soaking his length and dripping down to his balls as he brings you towards your second orgasm. And he can feel your ringed muscles clench around his cock, their frenzy only intensifying when he pinches your clit deftly.  
With your thighs trembling around him, he carries you through your climax, maintaining gentle thrusts to help you ride out the euphoric release. The sounds you’re making only fueled the volition of his hips as they snap into you again and again, prepared to draw out his own cum.
When you finally collapse next to him, muscles spasming around his throbbing length, he slows to a still, reaching to pull your chin back towards him.
“Come here,” he says, meeting your plush lips with a deep, searing kiss. He slides his tongue against yours, caressing it in a manner equally as doting as it is lewd. He absentmindedly rubs your midsection as he does, tracing a circle around your navel with his fingertips.
When he pulls away a few moments later, he catches a glimpse of your eyes fluttering back open, sweat shimmering where your collar bones meet, damp strands of hair sticking to your skin. The sight sends his stomachs doing backflips.
“How are you feeling?”
You don’t hesitate. “Like I want you to fill me up already,” you whine impatiently, despite the fact that your breathing is still shallow from the intensity of your orgasm. “Please?”
He nods, smiling softly at your earnest eyes. He can’t help it, endeared by how blissfully unaware you are of how much self-control it takes for him not to. Sometimes it’s completely unpredictable—a heavy-lidded glance or a swivel of your hips and he’ll unravel like a teenager.
Not that you ever hold it against him when he does. If anything, you get a flattered glow to your cheeks, and he forgets the embarrassment in favor of enjoying the shy giggles that bubble from your lips.
“Anything my baby wants, she gets,” he reminds you with another chaste peck. He slips out of you momentarily to pull your thigh over his, turning you over so that you’re facing him.
He doesn’t waste any time re-entering you, cupping your ass with splayed fingers to draw your hips in. Your heat is sopping by this point, clamped walls coaxing out his release forcefully.
Eagerly scissoring your legs through his, you lean in impossibly close to press your soft tits against his chest, resting a hand on his waist.
“Perfect,” you hum happily, closing your eyes.
He doesn’t have much leverage for his thrusts, but it isn't necessary, not like this. With his cock nestled perfectly inside you, your lips on his neck, short strokes are all it takes. His head kisses your cervix just barely, a gentle sigh into his skin alerting him to the perfect depth for each rocking movement.
“You’re so good to me,” he sighs, as you run your fingers through his hair, cradling his head. He holds your frame tightly in response, grinding his pelvis into yours to give you some more stimulation. The movement draws his attention to his chest, where your pebbled nipples graze against his skin.
He can’t resist the opportunity to take one of them into his mouth, sucking at the sensitive skin with an occasional flick and stripe of his tongue.
You squirm and whimper in response, the stimulation starting to overwhelm your senses.
Lifting his head with a lewd slurp, “You’re going to be such a beautiful mom,” he pants, his warm breath raising goosebumps around your saliva-coated nipple. He drops a kiss to each of your breasts, worshipping their perfect form, trying not to think about how gorgeous you’d look—nourishing the baby the two of you make. A sight to be reserved only for his eyes.
“Make me into one, Jiminie,” you request, in that melodic voice of yours—sweetly innocent and sensuous all the same. You meet his eyes with the most delicate of gazes, reaching to caress his jaw. “I waited so long for you to come into my life, I don’t want to wait anymore. Let’s make ourselves a family.”
He feels his balls tighten, the steady build in his core suddenly tipping over the edge, and he gently pushes you back down against the couch, rolling on top of you. Hooking an arm around your knee, he spreads you open as far as he can, tossing your leg over his shoulder.
And when he meets your anticipatory eyes, so open and earnest, looking at him as if he’s the center of your entire universe—
A groan of “I love you” is all he can manage before his cock begins throbbing inside of you, splashing thick coats of white against your walls. He continues rocking his hips gently as spurts of cum spill into you, his length pulsing while your tight muscles milk him dry.
As he finishes, slowing his strokes down to a still, you cling to his shoulders tightly, peppering his neck with kisses. Other than his chest heaving with panting breaths, he remains purposely motionless, keeping his cum plugged up inside you and enjoying the warmth of your heavenly cunt.
Only when he begins to soften and slip out of you does he stir again—
“Baby,” you whine, protesting his movements. “Don’t go anywhere.”
He chuckles lightly, simply reaching for a cushion from the other end of the couch and sliding it beneath your hips.
“Don’t worry, I’m not done with you just yet.”
Before you can respond, he ducks his head between your legs, ensuring that nothing is leaking out from your slit.
“I didn’t mean—ah!”
He attaches his lips to your clit, lathing your swollen nub with his tongue and draping your legs over his shoulder. Your ripe essence is mixed with his, and he can’t help the instinct to lap up the heady taste, shamelessly reveling in it. 
You instantly begin writhing under him, prompting him to pin your thighs down while he sucks at your sensitive bud.
“Too—too much,” you yammer between gasps. “I don’t—I can’t—”
“You can, sweetheart,” he assures you, relentless. “Need to make sure everything stays inside this pretty cunt of yours.”
You begin bucking your hips into him after a few perfectly-timed flicks of his tongue, waves of pleasure possessing your body. With your spine arched off the couch, your cries sound out with a crescendo, before a shiver marks your climax. The ebb of your release descends with a muted mewl, your thrashing limbs falling limp.
He drops a kiss to your ankle as he unwraps himself from your legs, guiding your feet to the elevated backrest of the couch.
“Are you comfortable like this?” he asks, slightly concerned—it isn’t exactly ideal to have your lower half sticking up in the air as it is.
But you nod without hesitation. “Just come cuddle with me.”
He obliges easily, crawling back up towards you to lay his head on your chest, extending an arm around your waist.
You wrap him up in an affectionate embrace, dropping a kiss to his forehead as he curls up to you.
“I love you so much,” you murmur into his hair. “So, so much.”
“Because I fuck you so well?” he teases, lifting his chin to give you a cheeky grin.
You roll your eyes, through your touch remains tender, fingertips tracing meaningless circles into his skin.
After a few minutes of silence, nothing but the sound of your chests rising and falling in tandem to speak of, “How long do you think it’ll take?” you ask quietly. “For me to get pregnant?”
With post-concert fatigue and fucked-out bliss flooding his senses, he has to force his eyes back open, slightly concerned by the pause in your voice.
“Six months to a year—that’s what the doctor said, right? Why?”
You hesitate for a beat, staring up at the ceiling. “I’m just wondering.”
It doesn’t make sense to worry this early in the process, but he bites back the instinct to tell you so. You’re a worrier by nature, and he knows that this decision places an unfair burden on your shoulders.
A gentle stroke of your cheek draws your gaze back to his face, and he gives you a tender smile.
“I want this as much as you do, but you’re always going to be enough for me.”
You smile weakly in response, eyes soft. “I know that, baby. Trust me, I do.”
“And you feel the same way, right?”
“Of course I do,” you reply without hesitation, almost indignant that he even asked.
He smiles, subconsciously reassured by how confidently you answered.
“I just—I love you a lot,” you explain sheepishly. “I want to share all that love with some tiny humans. Our tiny humans.”
The giddy sensation that fills Jimin’s chest has him floating on air.
“It’ll happen for us, one way or another,” he promises, taking your hand in his to give it a squeeze. “And don’t worry, I trust my swimmers.”
With an amused laugh, “Your swimmers have the easy job,” you reply. “My wrinkly old uterus is going to be the problem.”
“Don’t talk about your uterus like that,” he scolds you. “It’s perfect, just like the rest of you.”
If the look on your face is any indication, that was the right thing to say. Though you playfully feign otherwise.
“You’re such a cheeseball.”
Jimin smirks at that, puffing his chest out slightly. “A cheeseball you’re married to,” he gloats. “And want to make babies with.”
With a dreamy sigh, “I do,” you admit, cupping his face. “I love this cheeseball very much.”
You kiss him again softly, and he feels that inexplicable contrast tugging at his heart once more. 
He could live suspended in that very moment for the rest of eternity, and paradise would pale in comparison.
But he also has a lifetime to look forward to, one filled with unconditional love for the person he knows he’s meant to be with. Whether or not that love will manifest itself into tiny humans—that won’t change anything.
He pulls you in closer to enjoy a few more minutes of solace and intimacy, with the world kept at bay by the dressing room door. The crowds and blinding lights, the spectacle of his career—he loves all of it, but this is what keeps him going. A stillness that filters out all the white noise, attuning his senses to what really matters.
Your thrumming heartbeat lulls him into quietude, both of you blissfully unaware of the bud that started to bloom inside of you a few days ago.
And you’ll have a few more days of calm to enjoy, before the appearance of a simple blue line will mark the beginning of your next adventure together.
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venusiangguk · 4 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
7K notes · View notes
bratkook · 8 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 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 !)
leave some feedback, send a message, tell me u love me pls u know the drill <3
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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.
5K notes · View notes
jtrbluv · a month ago
p.o.v. | myg
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summary: you were eight when you first met your soulmate. then you were eighteen when you realized that the boy who just got hired at the local record store next door, is also your soulmate. the issue at hand: you are the only one that knows.
pairing: yoongi x reader (fem)
genre: fluff, angst, soulmate!au, redstringoffate!au, college!au, high school!au
word count: 17.9k
warnings: PG-15, mentions of divorce, profanity, one year age gap (reader is 18, yoongi is 19), pg-15 food play (is that even a thing), yoongi works at a fucking record store
A/N: well damn. it's the way this is technically not even a week overdue but literally 7 or 8 months overdue... I'm so sry bae @koushiningg! i’d like to thank @allurence , @pjmsdior​ , and @bangtans-peaceful-piegon​ for beta reading!! y’all fr have my whole ass heart. and sorry in advance for any grammar mistakes or mistakes in general, this is unedited!!! 
— playlist.
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You were only eight years old when you discovered Min Yoongi was your soulmate.
Living in a society where love was predestined all thanks to a little red string on your pinky, made you inescapably curious. So from the moment you gained the ability to string words together into coherent sentences, you would press your parents on everything you could about the scarlet thread on your finger, garnering knowledge the more your questions frequented.
Maybe it was the fact that the foundation of where you grew up was constructed around finding “the one” in order to achieve peak happiness. It was absurd. Yet everywhere you looked you were surrounded with proof in the most palpable of forms.
And in the plainest or most kitschy of ways.
Honorable mention could be your older cousin orchestrating the most flashy of proposals—quite literally renting a billboard on one of the busiest highways that read “Honey, I rented a billboard! Meet me back at the Silverlake Hotel for a special surprise! Yes, it’s Johnny. No, your eyes aren’t deceiving you.”
Your parents were high school sweethearts—meeting at the tender ages of fifteen and staying attached by the hip ever since.
Your dad was the one who was able to see the string in their case. And he would describe to you how only one person out of the relationship can see it—how it appeared to trail off into a gradient of nothingness—and how the closer he had gotten to your mother, both physically and emotionally, the more visible it was between them. It was only until he had confessed to her that she was able to see the connection between the strings as well.
You took pride in having the ability to visibly see the string for yourself, and being the one to discover who it would be connected to one day. But what you didn’t realize was how soon the discovery was going to be made.
Especially not when you were seven years old, clad in a purple unicorn hoodie littered with sequins and jeans that were embroidered with flowers—your knees scraped and small fingers soiled with sand.
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“Are you okay?!” A small raven-haired boy shouted out, his small legs hastily sprinting to your side after seeing you face-plant into the wet sand.
Your thoughts are intruded as you noticed that the sand had a red thread trailing out the surface and into the air. The red thread emitted a golden sheen that you were able to see despite your hands carrying fistfuls of sand.
The boy that appeared to be around the same age as you was dusting the sand off of your sleeves and pants, dismissing your lack of response and how you were ogling at him with eyes that took up half of your face.
And then his hand brushed against yours.
“What are– ! Who are you?!” You exclaimed, ripping your hand out of his grasp only to gawk at how bright the string was glowing without any sand to obscure it.
“O–oh I’m sorry, you have sand all over you,” he tells you shyly, retracting his hands, as if you didn’t already know. “But my name is Yoongi, Min Yoongi.” He smiled sweetly with an evident gap due to the loss of his two front baby teeth. His small hand outstretched towards you, offering a handshake.
“Hi, I’m Y/N.” You timidly smiled back as you slid your palm into his, shaking his hand while unknowingly transferring all the sand onto it.
After you shake hands he rubs the sand on his pant leg, an adorable giggle escaping his lips as you mutter an nth number of apologies.
“Don’t worry about it!” He beams, his eyes turning back to an older, slender woman with a frown on her face motioning him to come towards her. “Sorry, but I think I should go back to my mom. She’s looking for me.” He said as he began to stand up.
“No, it’s okay! I don’t want you to get in trouble anyway.” You quickly told him as you continued to wipe your hands against your jeans.
He nods with a smile. “I’ll see you around Y/N. It was nice meeting you!” He beams as his little legs start sprinting in the opposite direction— the glow that surrounded the thread fading, the farther he ran.
You frantically waved your arms back and forth, exchanging looks one last time before walking back towards your family with only traces of a smile left on your face.
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Here you are ten years later, still equipped with the same amount of clumsiness and childish outlook as you did when you were eight, except now you were eighteen and about to graduate high school.
You hadn’t forgotten about your soulmate, but the inevitable reality of growing up shifted your mindset—your priorities were centered around applying to colleges and trying to keep your grades up despite having a terrible case of senioritis.
The red string on your finger was serving as a solid reminder that you haven’t seen your soulmate in years and weren’t likely to see him anytime soon.
As the years ticked by, it became harder and harder to recall and visualize his features—as if there was a ticking time bomb in your memory nerves, only a matter of time until all the memories would be blown into bits and you would be left with a shoddy visualization of the boy you once ran into. You wondered if you would even be able to recognize him now if it wasn’t for the fact that you were quite literally, bound together by fate.
Occasionally, out of fear that you would forget his name and his face, you’d set aside time to relive the moment in which you met him ten years ago at a beach that was hundreds of miles away from home and felt light years away from the present. You’d shift into the desired reality where you’d get to come in contact with the boy that had a gentle aura, sweet smile, and kind-hearted actions. You never were able to find men, let alone boys like that these days anyway.
Yet the security of knowing and seeing your soulmate still wasn’t enough for you. As much as fate was able to bind people together by string, there have been many instances where the string, well, was just nothing but a string. Soulmates never finding their other half. Or spending their lives with someone that wasn’t destined to be theirs. Even the rarity that fate makes a mistake and the two predestined lovers just simply don’t click like they’re supposed to.
Even though fate bounded you two together, to what extent was fate willing to go through for your paths to crossover again?
Hint: More than you think.
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You kick a pebble to the side of the road.
Letting out a sigh, you run a hand through your untamed hair, your feet taking you to a destination unbeknownst to you. You just need to get out of the house. Another glance at your sloppily scripted notes would leave your mind spiraling into an even deeper pit of frustration and laziness that you don’t have the energy to pull yourself out of right now.
In other words, you need caffeine.
You take a trip to the local coffee shop you are a regular at. The shop greets you with the soothing aroma of coffee beans—taking a moment to inhale as the scent wafts through the air. To your surprise, you see one of your good friends, Jisung, at the register. He’s in the middle of taking someone’s order until he gives you a sideways glance, having a double-take and waving to you after the customer finishes paying.
“Someone’s having a rough week, aren’t they?” He says under his breath, brows shooting upward as his eyes trail up and down your disheveled state.
You cross your arms, the cinch between your brows that hasn’t seemed to fade ever since the start of finals week deepening, “And somehow you aren’t because…”
“I’m smart and only took the classes required to graduate,” he reminds you, “the only final I'm concerned about is my dance final.”
“Well, lucky you,” your words trailing off as your eyes bore holes through the glass cabinet filled with an array of your favorite desserts. Maybe if you stare long enough, the glass will vanish and you can swipe a meringue without anybody noticing.
He smiles at your dismissive behavior. Your decision to make most of your schedule advanced placement and honors classes never boded well with him to begin with. He had warned you countless times about your demanding course load and how it was going to bite you in the ass later on. You both knew that he was right, but you also both knew that you weren't going to do anything about it. Per usual, Y/N.
“The usual?” He asks.
You nod, shoving your hands into your pockets to scrounge for your wallet, “Give me an extra shot of espresso.” You add.
He halts as soon as the words hit his ears, setting your cup down on the counter and turning back towards you with a quizzical look on his face, “Only if you don’t pull another all-nighter.”
“I swear I won’t!” you exclaim in an attempt to reason with him but to no avail, “I just need a little pick me up, because sadly, as much as I’d wanna pull another all-nighter, my body can’t take it.”
The crease of his brows deepen even more until he eventually relents— noticing the way your eyes are nearly half-shut and the bags are about ten shades darker than their usual tone, your shoulders slouched in your jacket that was already five sizes too big, “Alright, but I only believe you ‘cause you look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”
“A day and a half.” You correct.
“And a whopping five espresso shots later. And to think you call me the insane one.” He scoffs. You can almost hear the pout on his face if he wasn’t preoccupied with the espresso machine.
You let out a yawn, far too tired to banter with him right now. There was always plenty of time for that anyway. “Fine. We are both insane, actually no I think ‘stupid’ is a better word to tack on there, hence why we’re friends.”
He twirls around with a grin on his face, holding your drink in his hand as he places it on the counter. He's been only putting four shots of espresso the entire time he’s been making these drinks for you just because he doesn’t want to see the jittery aftermath and sudden caffeine crash that he knew could potentially occur. “Hey, it only took you three years to admit it.”
You roll your eyes, giving him a swat on the shoulder that he dodges, “Yeah, yeah… but hey, when are you getting out of here anyway?”
“I’m working a closing shift so I still have another hour left. Don’t worry about me, go home and finish up so you can rest. You have econ tomorrow right?” He asks while closing a lid onto your drink.
You sigh, more than ever wanting to slam your head against the counter, but you digress, “Yeah.”
“You’ll be just fine. Now c’mon get outta here and go back home.” He says while sliding your drink towards you and nudging you towards the exit.
“But I haven’t paid?”
“On the house.”
You set your drink down with a frown. “Han, no.”
He laughs. “Why not?”
“You already give me your employee discount every time I come here, just take my money.” You spit, shoving your dollar bills into his chest.
He giggles at your frustration, standing grounded despite you punching money into his pecs. God, this boy really needed to stop spending his days only dancing or going to the gym. “But I don’t want your money.”
You audibly sigh, not having a single ounce of energy to be arguing with him right now, but you yelp in exasperation, “Jisung!”
“Y/N!” He mimics your pleading tone in an obnoxious high-pitched voice that was octaves higher than your actual one, your hand plopping to the counter in defeat.
You grab his wrist, forcing his fingers open as you slap the bills into his palm and close his hand into a fist. You swiftly grab your drink and run out the door, momentarily pausing to peek your head through the door and yelling a “Thank you! Love you!” before scurrying out, fumbling with your coffee in the process.
He stares at the door incredulously long after you leave the premises, shrugging and shoving the money into the pocket of his apron.
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Your hands are wrapped tightly around the cardboard cup, clutching it close to your chest in hopes that the heat would emanate to the rest of your body as you continue to drag your feet along the bustling sidewalk.
A few stores down from the coffee shop is the record store that’s had its doors open for as long as you can remember. Memories of the adorable elderly couple who always greeted you replay in your mind as you step foot inside.
It always personally irked you that you rarely purchased anything while you were there. One of the main reasons besides the most obvious one: not being able to just buy one, is the fact that you didn’t even own a record player to begin with. And displaying it on your walls like some wannabe ’pinterest indie grunge 90s aesthetic’ inspired room (which you would definitely have if you weren’t broke™️) was out of the question, because having only two vinyls on your wall is very much lame yet very much something you would do.
As if on cue, your legs involuntarily take you to the first table that’s right behind the door— which you have grown to remember is always full of their latest shipments and newest presses. You always made a mental checklist of the records that you would consider buying in the future once you had the money for them. The list is embarrassingly long to the point where you’ve sadly had to make a note on your phone reserved just for the occasion.
Your eyes are practically glued to the Selena album that sits in the box that you don’t notice the man trying to greet you.
“Um, excuse me miss, hi, are you looking for anything in particular?”
“Oh, I was jus—“
You freeze dead in your tracks— the record you were holding in your hand dropping back inside the shelf with a thud. The string on your finger is gleaming brightly as ever. It’s striking. It’s blinding.
And it’s directly connected to the pinky of the man standing right in front of you.
It takes you a few seconds to register that you look positively perturbed, and that the only justification you have, isn’t good enough because of course, he can’t see the string. Your jaw is practically down to your knees, blinking vehemently at the man that was standing still with a polite smile on his face, your eyelashes could probably counteract as a fan. It can’t be. Maybe if you blink fast enough he’ll just disappear.
Never mind, he’s still here.
No, there’s just no way.
Surely, there’s no way my soulmate is standing in front of me. Again.
Coughing into your sleeve, you barely manage to slip out, “I’mjustlookingaroundbutthankyou!” You say, the words coming out all at once, as you take a moment to gasp for air.
He chuckles softly, the distinct and unfamiliar noise akin to dripping saccharine to your ears, “Alright, just let me know if you need anything, I’ll be back there.” He says while cocking his head towards the register.
You nod as he starts to make his way back behind the counter. You slowly turn back towards the shelf, mentally giving yourself a nice big slap to the cheek acting like that after finally seeing your soulmate after ten years.
Ten years… oh my god.
Pretending to flip through more records, you start to converse with yourself in your head, trying to formulate a plan as to what your next move should be.
Now, the smart and most obvious thing would be just straightforwardly telling him that you two are soulmates and that you can see the string connected between the two of you.
But you are not smart nor good at befriending strangers.
You swallow down some of the anxiety in your throat, grabbing the Musiq Soulchild record that just so happened to graze your fingertips. You’re nearly tiptoeing to the register, the man looking up at you with a smile as you timidly place the record on the counter and slide it towards him.
“Musiq Soulchild, good taste.” He says, smiling as he exchanged a delayed glance between you and the record.
“I appreciate it.” You manage to whisper, staring down at your untied shoelace.
He scans the record as you whip out your wallet and look for your card. If you were correct, you had enough money to pay for the record, and by the record means just the record alone.
In hindsight, you would know better than to buy, sorry scratch that, go bankrupt for materialistic things just because there was an attractive guy as a cashier. Luckily, you had the justification of this particular guy being your soulmate so the whole act wasn't that lame. Even for you.
The radio silence isn't deafening thanks to the soft 80s rock humming in the background. Your head naturally bobs along to the beat of the familiar Tears for Fears song that your dad used to play in the car all the time. The tune alone isn’t able to rip you out of your thoughts as you watch the hands of the man in front of you drumming his fingers on the counter to the rhythm of the song.
His hands, are gorgeous. Dare you say the prettiest hands you’ve probably ever come across on a man.
Y/N. Stop it.
The thought of you coming back to the shop only to "coincidentally" run into your soulmate sounded ludicrous—your wallet already screaming at you and your mind wracking itself just to come up with conversation starters. Since your time was running out and his unprecedented presence here is piquing your interest anyway, you say,
"I don't think I've ever seen you here before."
His fingers pause on the counter, his head perking up, "Oh yeah, I just got hired here last week."
"O-oh that's cool," you stutter, stumbling on your words and struggling to sustain the flow of conversation. He smiles at you while he rings you up.
"Are you from around here?" He asks.
You nod, "Yeah, I've known this place for as long as I can remember. I guess Mr. and Mrs. Yang needed some extra help around the shop. You're the first person to be employed under them."
He hums, "They told me that when I got hired, I guess there's been an influx of vinyl purchases lately and they've been expanding their inventory. They thought they could use some extra help." He informs you while sliding you the receipt—carefully bagging the record with his lip tucked in his mouth. Cute.
Picking up the receipt, your eyes immediately scan for a name, specifically the one of the man ringing you up, "Ah, that makes a lot more sense.” Aha! Got it.
Cashier: Yoongi
You can’t even stop the words that come out of your mouth next, “Oh, fuck.”
His head shoots up, “Sorry?”
You snap your mouth shut, “Oh, nothing! Do you happen to live around here by any chance? I don't think I've seen you around this area before."
He shakes his head, some of the ebony strands of his hair falling into his eyelashes, "I moved here in the fall for college actually. I've been meaning to get a job but I wanted to get adjusted to school a couple of months before trying to branch out."
"Wow, that sounds so exciting, congrats!"
Thank God I just turned legal.
It took nearly all your willpower to keep your eyes off of the suffused piece of string and the way it swayed along with his hand movements. Instead, you let your eyes focus on the curve of his lips and the pink flesh of his smile. Just merely looking at him made you feel effervescent—as carefree and light on your feet as the child you once used to be. The same one that genuinely believed they had a shot with Zac Efron when they were younger. And the same child that had their feet frolicking against the sands and their eyes looking past the limitless blue water—running into a boy with a youthful grin but manners beyond his age, and droopy eyes that haven't changed since you first saw him.
He slides you your bagged record. You look up at him to see the apples of his cheeks raised into an endearing close-mouthed grin. You mumble a small 'thank you' and turn around to exit the shop before he stops you,
"Wait, I don't think I caught your name?"
An enormous lump builds in your throat. After all this time, you've managed to remember his name for the sake of already knowing that he was your soulmate, but what about him?
"I–I'm Y/N."
"Well, hi Y/N. I'm Min Yoongi, but you can just call me Yoongi."
You nod, clutching the record even closer to your body as you smile at him in acknowledgement. "It's been nice to meet you Yoongi, I hope you like it around here."
He leans over the counter, resting his forearms on the wooden surface as he speaks, "I'm not too worried about that," his grin widens as he takes in your stunned expression, "see you around Y/N, take care."
"You too, Yoongi," you reply with a small smile, turning back around to exit the shop with an empty wallet but a content heart with flushed cheeks to match.
"Was that Y/N?" Mrs. Yang asks as she leans against the doorframe to the break room.
Yoongi grabs a couple of boxes to the front of the store to organize, turning around to face Mrs.Yang, "Yes, it was, she just stopped by to pick up a record."
"Y/N bought something?"
He pauses to turn around to his boss, "Yes ma’am, she just bought one right now."
“Wow, that’s a first.”
The box he had just nearly slips out of his arms, but he manages to lift his leg up to support the base. His brows scrunch in confusion, reflecting back on you telling him that you’re an avid visitor of the store, “Ah, really? She was telling me how she comes to the store all the time.”
"That is true, she’s stopped by all the time ever since she was young. She just never buys anything when she comes here," Mrs. Yang chuckles, fondly looking back at all the times where you would casually stroll in just to routinely talk to the couple and go on about your day without purchasing anything. They never minded it of course, always treating you as one of their own and even offering you meals at times.
"Oh, I see," he drags out the syllable—the cinch in his brows dissipates the longer his eyes drift towards the exit.
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Acquiring five hours of sleep is considered a feat to you. A trivial feat but a feat nonetheless. The duration of your R.E.M. would’ve been longer if it wasn’t for the thought of your soulmate keeping you awake. The fact that this fate-driven world could methodically bring you two together like this was something you wouldn’t have ever fathomed. At least not outside of the universe formulated by your deepest desires or the stories of other people’s firsthand experiences.
As much as the expectancy of being with your soulmate was so close within reach—nothing a few minutes of light jogging and a little sip of courage couldn’t withstand, you know you had many commitments you had to stay dutiful towards. You knew yourself enough to grasp that if you were to let your mind wander off towards everything of importance to you, you weren’t going to get anywhere or get anything done.
Most times, your self-control and habitual tendencies would swallow you whole—your heart’s voice speaking volumes louder than your mind. Your interaction with Yoongi caused your heart to transport back ten years in time, where you were able to mature quicker in the realm of romance than most of your peers.
The nights where you would go to bed thinking of him and wake up with the same visions of him corrupting your thoughts, were something you grew to gain control over as you aged.
After years’ worth of a hiatus, you dream of him again that night.
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With one final down and more left to go, you head off to your local library after school to get some more work done.
You stop by at the coffee shop first—needing your daily caffeine intake to get you through the rest of the day. You don’t see Jisung there, but you quickly rewind back to the morning when he had told you he was going to practice his dance final after school. So with a cup of coffee in one hand and a backpack strap in another, you retreat to the first empty table you see.
Laying all your belongings flat on the table, you slump in the wooden chair—your head rolling back and hitting the top of the backrest. You look fixedly at the ceiling, trying to outline your game plan of how you were going to tackle your schoolwork today. If you didn’t adhere to it (which you usually didn’t), at least you can say that you thought about it.
You let your eyes flutter shut, basking in the stillness of the moment and the lack of brainpower you weren’t being required to use.
You jerk in your seat, your knee striking against the edge of the table as your eyes shoot open only to see the last person you wanted to bump into. His face is hovering a couple of feet above yours as he’s standing right next to you. His close-lipped smile is the only thing that envelops your vision for a few seconds before you tear your gaze away, your cheeks turning embarrassingly hot.
You don’t even hear him asking if you’re okay, the voices in your head yelling louder and the pain in your knee growing substantially as the seconds pass. You can already envision the big barney-like purple splotch that was going to be there.
“Yoongi? What are you doing here?” You blurt out, wincing at the obvious question considering the fact that he too, is a student and can go to the library whenever he pleases.
“I have midterms this week, and the library at my school is packed,” he says, widening the distance between you two as he moves into your field of vision once more, “is it okay if I sit here?” He asks while pointing to the chair across from you.
“Of course.” You quickly respond, rubbing at the spot where you hit your knee while trying not to noticeably grimace in pain.
He sits down across from you, starting to take his belongings out of his bag and setting them on the table. “Sorry for scaring you, I didn’t mean to.”
You chuckle nervously, running a shaky hand through your hair, “It’s okay, I should be studying now anyway.”
He nods in return, giving you a small grin before proceeding to his own work.
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You’ve been staring at your laptop screen for half an hour now. Hoping that maybe if you stared long enough, the words would just magically materialize onto the empty word doc.
You purposely remained slumped in your chair, letting your screen obscure the view of his face so you could only see his eyes up to the strands of his tousled hair.
It wasn’t the first time you were forced to write an essay on a book you’ve never bothered to lay an eye on. Yet it was the first time doing so with your soulmate sitting right in front of you—your focus meter depleting rapidly as you continued to sneak glances at the top of his head.
After minutes of reading chapter summaries and trying to pick the best quotes that would correlate to the essay prompt, you sit back in the chair, taking a long sip of your coffee.
As you lean down to place your cup back on the table, you sideways glance at the man to see him yawning into his sleeve. He sniffles, the tip of his nose slightly pink as he blinks hard before proceeding to type on his laptop once more.
“Do you want some?”
“Hm?” His head peeps from the screen, his eyes peering towards you before glancing at the cup in your hand.
“Some of my coffee.” You reiterate, sliding the cup towards him.
He hesitates, his focus flickering back between you and the cup, “Are you sure?”
“I insist,” you assert, sliding the cup even closer to him, “We all need our caffeine.”
He chuckles, nodding in thanks to you before taking the cup into his hands and sipping into the contents. “This is really good.”
“It’s actually from that one place that’s a few doors down from the record store.”
“Ah, I’ve been meaning to try from there, but I just haven’t gotten the chance to.”
“I go there all the time, I’ll gladly vouch for the place.” You tell him as you step back to your seat.
He lowers his screen slightly, forcing you to see the entirety of his face— your focus meter blown to smithereens. “I guess you just happened to catch me on a rare day without coffee. I swear at this point, coffee is preeminent to water.”
Chuckling at his remark, you lower your screen as well, “Coffee is fucking amazing. I probably would've been knocked out cold by now if you hadn’t scared me.”
He scrunches his nose and you swear you almost audibly squeak at just how adorable he is, “I still feel bad for that, but I figured you would’ve been more mad if you knew that I just let you fall asleep there.”
“Well yeah, you’re not wrong about that.” You admit. You can hear him laughing on his end so you look up— the corners of his eyes are crinkled up and his gums are on full display. His shoulders are shaking as laughter escapes his lips. He’s beautiful. You can’t help but laugh along with him.
As your laughter fades, you sigh, “At this rate, I’m not going to get anything done. But is it bad that I'm not mad about it?”
“What grade are you in?”
“I’m a senior. I just turned eighteen.” Of course, you’d make that clear.
He hums in acknowledgement, “As much as I’d want to encourage you and tell you to keep going, it’d be hypocritical of me. If high school procrastination is harmful, then senioritis is just a lethal force of nature.”
You huff, “I couldn’t have said it any better than that.”
He fumbles with his jacket zipper, clearing his throat, “Do you need any help?”
“No, it’s alright. I know what I need to do… I just don’t feel like doing it.” You admit sheepishly.
He nods, his fingers start to drum in the table before he says, “Just take a nap then.”
A cinch forms in between your brows. “A nap? Here?”
“Yeah, I can wake you up,” he says nonchalantly.
You laugh at the thought of you potentially drooling all over the public desk, “I think I can manage without one.”
He clicks his tongue, his head tilting to the side, “It’s just a nap Y/N, it won’t hurt you.”
A nap does sound good. Especially after hearing him suggest it after saying your name. “I mean I guess, but I’ll only take like ten minut–”
“Y/N, cut yourself some slack. I can sense sleep deprivation when I see it.”
You gasp exaggeratedly, in mock offense. You hope he doesn’t sense the indication of worry there too because, shit, did you actually look as tired as you feel? “Wow, thanks.”
He chuckles, forcing another smile to come out of you, “The only two times I’ve seen you, you’ve had a coffee in your hand.”
“Well, maybe I just like coffee.” You quip. Okay, the eye bags aren’t that brutal today, thank God.
“And you just admitted to me that you almost fell asleep, but I woke you up.” Fuck I did, didn’t I.
You exhale deeply, raising your hands in defeat and surrender, “Fine Mr. Alarm Clock, choose a duration.”
“An hour.”
“An hour?” You stare at him incredulously as he smiles at your uptightness. “But I don’t want to keep you waiting here.”
“I was planning on being here all day anyway, it’s okay.” He reassures you.
“Fine,” you relent, “half an hour.”
“An hour.” He counters.
“Deal.” He smiles. “I’ll wake you up in forty-five.”
You frown at him, using all your might not to smile at the way he was looking at you right now. With a deep sigh, you shut your laptop, scooting it to the side and crossing your arms on top of the desk. Shaking your head in dismay, you look back at Yoongi one last time.
“Forty-five,” he coos. You stick your tongue at him before placing your head in the nest you created with your arms, quickly drifting off to dreamland.
I don’t need to tell you what I was dreaming about, you probably know by now, you pricks.
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“Y/N. Wake up.”
Yoongi’s been trying to wake you up for four minutes now. His futile attempts at a hushed whisper yell are starting to piss off the people at the tables around you. He stills in his actions for a moment, not wanting to inconvenience anybody any longer.
Standing up, he leans down and reaches across the table, softly tapping on your sleeve, “Y/N.”
You groan, sliding your arm away from his touch as you fall back asleep once more. He sighs, looking languidly at the top of your head, considering another way to wake you up. But he refrains and taps your arm once again, not pausing this time. “Y/N, come on.”
“Hmph…” you groan into the fabric of your sleeve, your head slowly rising as you attempt to rub the sleep from your eyes. “Mmstop…” You mumble into your sleeve, squirming under the constant tapping on your forearm.
Your head shoots up from the crook of your elbow, your eyes still closed shut, “What?!” You retort loudly, the man sitting in front of you doesn’t react in the slightest as a chorus of shushes are all made towards you. You scratch your head, curling into yourself at the realization of what you had just done,
“Sorry, everyone.”
He blinks. “You’re awake.”
“I am.” You mumble softly, straightening yourself in your seat. It would be a lie if you were to say that you aren’t slightly alarmed to have his face be the first thing you see when you wake up. Then you soon remember that he had advised you to take a nap, in which you complied.
You’re far too drowsy to notice the way his eyes have been fixated on you this whole time, and it’s probably better that way. “Do you feel better?”
You nod, “I do.”
And with that, his lips curl into another close-lipped grin. “Go finish your essay so you can head home and sleep.” He advises, but by the way his mouth stretches into a big yawn afterwards, it seems like he’s in dire need of sleep more than you.
“Alright,” you reply monotonously, opening your laptop screen, the sudden brightness making you flinch, “only because you said so.”
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Hours pass by a lot quicker than you account for. Picking up your phone in what felt like potentially half an hour but realizing that nearly that plus a whole two hours had ticked by.
All you could clearly recall was at one point, you decided that you were in critical need to purge out the thoughts inside your head about the man sitting across from you. You were so inwardly embarrassed to be ogling over the man who was just minding his own goddamn business. After minutes of fumbling through your bag to find your earphones, and additional minutes just to untangle the mess itself, you narrowly succeed.
It was tremendously difficult for you to stay in work mode when your mind was in complete disarray. You’ve barely been given time to process that your soulmate is once again back in your life—not just for a scant amount of time that only allowed for the exchange of names, not without a single clue of where their whereabouts are, and not without knowing what they look like all this time. You had all this information now, along with the maturity and ability to solidify this interconnection once and for all. Yet your inner diffidence and unease hindered you from having the confidence to reveal yourself to him.
You told yourself you were going to work up to it.
He inhales through clenched teeth, “Crap, sorry for drinking so much of your coffee.” He says as he clinks the cardboard cup on the table, the lack of swishing insinuating that there was nothing inside.
You wave a hand dismissively, “No, don’t worry about it. You made me take a nap anyway, you need it more than I do.”
His lips twitch into a lopsided smile, conveying that he still felt bad regardless, “Have you made any progress?”
“Yes, actually. I finished that stupid essay and now I’m just studying for another final. You?”
“Just working on a thesis paper that I had two months to work on, so the usual.” He chuckles dryly.
You grimace at the thought of the situation, knowing that you have been in that same predicament far too many times, “That sounds rough, I hope you can finish it soon.”
He snickers, “Shit, I hope I can too.”
You can’t help but laugh at the comical expression that paints across his face— yet the sound of him swearing in that husky, subdued voice of his causes a pang in your chest.
“Are you heading out soon?” You ask as you slowly shut your laptop.
He leans back in his seat, “Probably, or else I might end up passing out on this table too.”
“See, I am not the only sleep-deprived student in this world, Yoongi.”
“I never said you were Y/N, knowing myself, I’m probably worse than you.” He assures you, clicking away at his keyboard.
As you start to pack, you notice him examining the label on the cup before throwing the empty contents into a nearby trash can, swiftly making it in one go. “We might not know each other that well, but if it was up to us, the whole education system would be abolished,” you say.
What you don’t notice is how his focus immediately zeroes in on you after saying that. His eyes conveying an unreadable expression along with the slight quirk of his lip and brow that have you frozen stuck in your seat.
“Hm?” You squeak.
“You flatter me Y/N.”
You sputter at his words. “Uh—“
“What the hell, are you psychic or something?” He teases, cutting through the one-sided tension with a hearty laugh.
You manage to hide your surprise, reciprocating the laughter while trying to reply back with another rhetorical question, “Would you even believe me if I said yes?”
“For the sake of us just meeting, I will not answer that.” He replies, receiving an audible gasp on your end which makes him fold over even more.
You roll your eyes playfully, chomping down on your bottom lip to stop the smile that threatens to split your face in half. At last you stand up, slinging a backpack strap over your shoulder, “Okay, I think I’ll head out now.”
He nods, tending to his own belongings, “Are you driving home?”
“Oh no, I live like a ten minute walk away from here.” You inform him.
“But it’s pretty dark out right now,” he halts in his actions, his head turning towards the window as it clearly displays the lack of sunlight replaced by a navy sky, “I can take you home if you want.”
You shake your head. “No, it’s okay, I don’t wanna be a bother.”
“I think it would bother me more if I knew that something were to happen to you,” he counters, shutting his laptop and turning towards you.
You open your mouth to respond but are unable to formulate a rebuttal. His eyes soften as he takes in your lack of reply, voice going softer than usual, which was already soft to begin with. Why did he feel this sense to be protective over you? He just met you, didn’t he? “I won’t push you if you don’t want to. I don’t know why but… have we ever met before?” he asks while scratching the back of his ear.
“I—,” You can’t tell him the truth. At least not now. And so you don’t, “I’m not sure we have.”
He nods, “Hm, alright.”
“You can take me home.” You suddenly blurt out.
His brows shoot up in surprise, “What?”
You chuckle nervously, smiling in hopes that you appear less suspicious, “You can take me home,” you reiterate for both him and yourself.
“O-oh alright,” he stammers, standing up from his seat.
You follow him out of the library, keeping a safe arms distance away so he wouldn’t see the way your face was getting hot. You tap on your phone, pressing at the blank screen to emulate as if you were texting someone to avoid awkwardness and forced conversation. It wasn’t helping in your case but at least you could look a tad bit less insane.
He lets you into his car, asking you for your address so he could find the directions. His car smelled of pine and men’s cologne. It was very pleasant and not at all pungent like others you have encountered in the past. Before leaving, he fishes through his center console, pulling out his aux cord and offering it to you.
Bewildered is an understatement. To be in a car of someone that you barely know, let alone just met yesterday, and you’re being handed the aux? The amount of trust that runs through the notion is much deeper than one would assume, or at least that’s what you always perceived it as.
You point at yourself questioningly. “Me? Are you sure?”
He smiles, nodding and placing the cord in your lap. “I trust that you have good taste.”
“I am honored you think so for working at a record store.”
He smiles again. The same shy one that causes him to turn away most of the time from what you’ve noticed. You almost want to grab his face and turn it around just to see it. “I won’t judge, you can play whatever you want.” He says, turning away as he starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot.
Obviously, you care. Plugging the cord into your phone, you begin to scroll through all your music, trying to find a playlist that you think would most match his musical preferences. After realizing that you were almost at your house, you quickly tap a song on your playlist for winding down.
His finger taps the steering wheel at the sound of the song starting, “Giveon?”
Good choice, Y/N. “Yeah.”
“See, I knew you had good taste.”
Your lips quirk up into a grin, “I’m happy you think so.”
The two of you sit in silence for the rest of the ride home. Coincidentally, the song comes to an end as he pulls up in front of your house.
You step out of his car, turning towards him before shutting the door, “Thanks for taking me home.”
He shakes his head. “It’s the least I can do for drinking all your coffee.”
You roll your eyes, smiling at him, “I told you it’s fine, all that matters is that it got drunk in the first place.”
“Whatever you say,” he huffs, “you should probably get inside, I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
You nod, turning back to glance at your house before turning back to him, “Alright, I will. Thanks again Yoongi, drive safe.”
“Will do, goodnight Y/N.”
“Goodnight.” You say as you shut the door and wave through the window, trying your hardest not to look at the glowing string. He waves back before retracting his focus back to his steering wheel. You watch him drive off before going inside your house.
As you get yourself ready for bed, your mind is constantly bombarded with thoughts of your soulmate and nothing else. You go to bed once more with a new and unfamiliar warmth brewing deep inside your chest.
You dream of him again that night.
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It had been awhile since you were able to have such good sleep. You rarely used the term ‘slept like a baby’ because frankly, you couldn’t relate. But last night was the closest sleep you had gotten akin to the phrase.
Pushing past through yet another final and being exempted from the other could equate to a not shitty day for you. Because of the progress you were able to make in terms of your studying (besides the fact that you spent half of your day with your soulmate), you make your way back to the library again in hopes of having another productive day.
Being the hopeless romantic you are, you had a sliver of hope, just a little that maybe he would come back here to work alongside you once again.
After an hour of sitting by yourself, you came to the conclusion that you were being way too optimistic about the coincidence.
With your hardest final being tomorrow, a subject in which you sorely wished you had never enrolled in, also cause of many migraines and frustrated tears, Calculus— you decide to get started on it since you knew it was going to be the most labor-intensive.
You’re nearly about to rip the hairs out of your head from staring at your math teacher’s crappy explanations and poorly drawn graphs until someone’s jacket swipes against your chair. Two cups are set down in front of you as a man drops his backpack to the floor and plops onto his seat across from you, slightly out of breath and hair sticking to his forehead.
Your eyes widen, smiling at the sudden realization of who was sitting in front of you, “Yoongi?”
“Hi, sorry, I went to go grab us some coffee,” he says while sliding a cup towards you.
“Wha— Yoongi you didn’t have to.” You tell him, the action alone almost literally brought tears to your eyes. It was so sweet. A boy just bought you coffee. And at small observation, it was your exact order to a T, too.
He shrugs, his lips pressed in a line, “But I wanted to.”
The gesture makes you speechless. He’s standing there with the smallest of smiles, a cardboard cup in his hand and the thread shimmering like a slinky between the two of your figures. Your chest heaves at the pure sight in front of you, rising and sinking before spitting out, “I— thank you.”
“It’s nothing, really.” He dismisses with a shake of his head, sounding like he just checked a box off his grocery list. But his gaze flickers to every spot in the library besides wherever you were, wanting to hide the way his face was turning completely flush. He hated how his face could convey so much about him even after trying to uphold a stoic attitude most of the time. Being with you had to be the most he’s ever struggled with in terms of this issue, though.
You’re willing away the instinctive notion to gawk at him like he was holding out an elixir that would add plus twenty years to your lifespan. Even though he was holding out a cardboard cup of plain coffee that probably cost him some spare pocket change.
He decides to occupy himself by setting down his belongings while avoiding your lingering gaze.
You were terrible at the art of subtlety.
But he thought it was so goddamn cute.
“What are you smiling at?” You speak up. He had been unknowingly grinning at his Business Law and Ethics textbook like a complete fool. Oh God.
Clearing his throat, he faux coughs into his sleeve to hide the hot pink tint that was decorating the apples of his cheeks. “T-this coffee… tastes really good.”
You let out a small chuckle as he swipes the cup off the table and begins to down the contents of the cup like he’d been deprived of liquids for the past week.
Damn it, you’re so cute.
His lips detach from the cup as he blurts out with his eyes wide, “I’m so… what?”
Your eyes mirror his, widening at the realization that you just said he was cute, out loud. Before you know it, your hand reaches out to snatch your coffee, taking one long swig before setting it down on the table with a thunk.
“I mean the coffee– like the packaging!”
His brows furrowed together, making you want to almost groan in exasperation for his need to mock you. There is definitely not anything rather special, or cute even, about a cardboard cup. “Wait, what about the packaging?”
“It’s biodegradable and… nice-looking.”
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With the two of you frequenting the local library in the middle of finals season, many people seemed to have the same idea of studying here as well.
The most likely underpaid librarian is far too engrossed in her own recreational reading to try to settle the commotion of all the students in the library. And it just so happens that the children’s tutoring program had started its hours as well.
The noises were starting to overpower the lo-fi beats you had been routinely blasting into your ears, and it was beginning to get really hard to focus. Looking up at the man sitting in front of you, you could infer that he was struggling as well— fiddling with the empty coffee cup at his hand as he stared off at the children sitting at their miniature-sized desks and missing the lines of their coloring pages.
If you were mistaken, you can make out a lot of peers from school, and in all honesty, you did not want to be seen by them right now. Small talk was never really your forte anyway.
Yoongi’s focus shifts to you with a raise of a brow.
“I think I might head home early, it’ll probably be easier for me to work there.” You tell him, already feeling the fragments of guilt poking at you since he already had the predetermined plan of meeting you here. And even buying you a coffee and remembering your exact order above all.
“I’ll make it up to you by buying you coffee next time, I swear.” You laugh off to relieve some of the guilt that was still eating away at you.
“Nah, it’s not needed. I was thinking of heading to my school‘s library in a bit anyway.” He responds with a deep sigh and visible fatigue in his features.
You stand there wordlessly, feet unwilling to move from their current spot, the guilt quite literally eating away at your ability to walk all of a sudden.
He snaps you out of your statued reverie. “What?”
He crosses his arms, “It’s fine I promise, don’t worry about it.”
Slouching, you slither your way back down to the seat, “No, I feel so bad.”
“But what did I do?” He smiles, the sound that comes out of his lips a little hesitant and akin to a chuckle but sounded more like he was trying to get a hairball out of his throat. You smile back.
“Nothing.” That’s the problem.
Jutting out his bottom lip in concentration, he sets his arms on the table to direct his focus towards you, “Okay, why don’t you just come with me then?”
You point at yourself, as if he was directing his question to someone else other than you. “Am I allowed to come in there with you?”
He nods easily, giving you the presumption that you were far too worried about it, “They don’t manage who comes in and out of there anyway. And you can pass as a college student.”
“Well, I hope I do. I’m literally going to be there in like a few months.” You note, because other than the piles of schoolwork all your teachers assign and the near lucid dreams about the boy sitting in front of you, college was another topic of interest that took up a lot of real estate in your mind.
“That’s true. Let’s head out then.”
You two leisurely vacate from the commotion of the library, hopping into Yoongi’s car and dipping before the parking lot becomes more filled.
The car ride had the same comfortable silence it had the first time. He handed you the AUX with the simple instructions of ‘Just play something that won’t put us to sleep.’ with a long yawn at the end to top it off.
And so you turned on the playlist that you prepared for the event of when you could finally drive on your own and blast whatever the hell music you wanted.
You can see his cute head bobbing to the rhythm as he continued to drive, and so you forced yourself to look away and lean against the window. The vibration of the bass against your cheekbone was the only thing keeping you from conking out entirely.
He pulls into the parking lot, and you finally sit up—taking a moment to scan the university and its rather large campus. If you thought the library parking lot was full then your eyes must have been undermining themselves because there was such a sparse amount of parking spots, you weren’t even sure how Yoongi managed to find one so quickly.
Catching sight of all the students roaming the streets, you begin to partake in your people-watching habits. One thing you could clearly detect was the bustle and hastened pace of the students, probably rushing to crash in their dorms or their next class or to snatch a free table at the library.
“Are you sure I can just go to the library here?” You ask him once more as you step out into the chilly spring breeze.
He leans against the car door, talking to you over the roof of his car, “There’s so many people that go here, I’m telling you they won’t notice.”
“What if I stick out?” You argue, a very shitty argument may you say.
He laughs, raising a brow at you, “Do you want to stick out?”
“I want to be practically invisible.” You joke, except you’re not quite sure if it’s really a joke after all.
“Alright,” he leans down to open his car, getting something that you can’t quite see out of the backseat. “Put this on.”
He throws the undisclosed object to you, and you bear hug it in midair to catch it. You unfold the wrinkled fabric in your hands, and read the big, imprinted letters of the university on the front of the sweatshirt.
“See. Now you’ll look more like a student than half the people that actually go here.” He says with a smirk.
You roll your eyes, setting your backpack down to slip the sweatshirt on. Pausing halfway, your face is buried in the thick fabric when the sweet scent of his cologne hits your nose. Dismissing it, you pull the rest of the sweatshirt onto your body—the sleeves were far past your hands, the hem reaching the middle of your thighs. Throwing the hood over your head, your eyes land on the red string on your finger that has implacably maintained its glimmer.
Looking up from your hands, you notice Yoongi’s eyes shift quickly to avoid yours. He presses a button to crack open his trunk, grabbing his belongings out before reaching out to shut it close.
“Pause, is that a guitar case?” You point out before he can shut the door.
“Oh,” he blurts out, almost forgetting that he had it in there, “Yeah, it is.”
Your eyes remained on the black case, amazed at the sight like you’ve never seen one before, “You play guitar?”
“A little.” He replies reservedly, a tint of pink spreading across his cheekbones.
“Can I hear you play one of these days? I have a feeling you're bluffing.” Your eyes narrow, trying to milk the true talent of this mysterious man out of him. You don’t know him too well, almost not at all, but you could guess that he has a lot of love for music.
He smirks, shutting the trunk close before leaning on it, “And why would I bluff?
“I highly doubt you just have a whole guitar in your car that you only play ‘a little’ of.” You assert, mocking his tone by making your voice go several octaves lower. His lips stretch into a grin, tucking his lips into his mouth to withhold the laughter that was about to seep out of his lips.
Walking through the campus, you stay closer to his side; in case of the situation that you would get lost in the crowd with a bunch of people you didn’t know at a place you have never stepped foot in until now.
“You look like one of those Harry Potter things.” He states without looking in your direction.
You glance towards him, brows scrunched in thought, “Dementors?”
“Yeah, those. I can’t even see your face and you’re looking at me. I think.” He teases while leaning down to meet you at eye level. You scrunch your face in disapproval, and he mirrors your face exactly—scrunching his nose and puffing up his cheeks before you two lose it and break out into laughter.
“I probably look two feet shorter with this on.”
“You do.”
“Hey!” You gasp, feigning and exaggerating the anger in your tone. You cross your arms, your hands still enveloped in the fabric and nowhere to be seen as you trudge your way besides the boy.
After so much walking, you two finally make it into the library.
The building was bustling with students, all clad in sweatpants and solemn expressions to express the mutual disdain they all carry for finals week. And you realize you are one and the same.
The library is quite big, standing at around four stories from what you can observe, with plenty of books and supplies along with plenty of open areas for these debt-ridden students to be spending most of their days and nights studying. Which was also going to be you pretty soon as well.
How exciting.
“I’d get us a study room, but they’re all reserved. And I think we’d both need campus IDs anyway,” he tells you, coming to a stop at a table that neared the corner of the first floor.
“No worries, I don’t mind wherever we sit.” You affirm as you sit across from him.
You guys resume your study session as if Yoongi didn’t have to travel through half an hour of rush hour traffic just to get here. Both of your books and pencils are scattered in a disarray on the table, the blue light from your computers shining on both of your faces per usual in hopes of getting another productive day of studying down, as it was the final stretch of finals week, and then graduation coming faster than you could comprehend.
Maybe you were in over your head, but just being here, sitting in a collegiate library with your head buried in your Calculus book and your soulmate just inches away—it seems like you were already getting a glimpse of the future and what it could entail. And for the first time in this entire year full of people telling you how fast things are going to come at you and how time just seems more like an illusion, without a moment to sink in what’s around you and dwell on the brevity of events.
It felt like you were beginning to accept this without the inclinations of fear creeping through your mind and body.
“Y/N?” Yoongi calls out to you. He notices that your eyes have been glued to the window for a fair amount of time, your chin propped on your palm as your curious, doe eyes stare into the swarming, bustling quad. “Are you okay?”
Yoongi knew you were very pretty from the moment he saw you, but it was the first time he was able to observe you, or admire you closely if he was being completely frank. The sun bathed you in it’s golden embrace, it’s bright streaks of light dancing upon you like you were the only one in it’s line of sight. It accentuated all your greatest features, kissing you with it’s celestial touch that made you look all the more ravishing and real and so intimate despite being more than an arm’s length away.
You know those few moments that you experience in your life where for that small, fixed moment in time everything just feels like it’s where it supposed to be—as if the moment was written in verbatim for you to live through, experience, and later on treasure and later look back on with fondness and a smile.
Your eyes shift to him, softening as you notice the gentle smile adorning his lips, his dim eyes twinkling from the effects of golden hour, in which you reply back with your own lazy grin. Your eyes tear away from his face before you could feel yourself falling into oblivion and for what felt like getting completely lost in his orbs without reservation.
You chuckle, eyes casting down back onto your laptop, “I’m fine, you?”
Yoongi didn’t know you all too well, and it was indefinite how long you would be placed in his life. But in this very moment, where it felt like you were the only one present in a library filled with hundreds, he knew that even if you were to leave tomorrow and you two were to never cross paths ever again after that, he wouldn’t be able to forget you.
Even if he tried.
And he was already scared of losing you, but then again, you weren’t even his to begin with.
You were under the sun’s bewitching kiss, but he was pretty sure that he wanted to kiss you just a little bit more.
Yoongi can’t seem to look away from you, “I’m great.”
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Shutting the screen of his laptop enough for you to notice he says, “It’s getting late, do you need to be home soon?”
You shake your head, your hands reaching up to your hair and pulling the hair tie that’s just barely been holding your hair up and out of your face for the past few hours. “Nah, I told my parents I’ll be studying out late with friends. They’re pretty lax about curfew and stuff as long as I don’t show up home at like 4 in the morning.”
Your words emit a chuckle out of him, “Good to know, it’s the perks of finally being legal coming to fruition