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#jeon jungkook x reader
sunshinerainbowsbts · a day ago
Paradise | JJK - Four
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Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: smut, neighbors to lovers (not quite friends but not quite strangers), slow burn, Stripper!AU
Rating: M (18+)
Warnings: brief mention of alcohol-induced sickness, swearing, kissing, fingering, orgasms
Word Count: 6.8K
Disclaimer: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me
Summary: That sexy man on stage - the one currently giving your friend the lap dance of her LIFE - is your super shy neighbor, Jeon Jungkook?!
A/N: Still overwhelmed by the love y'all have given me for this story. The slow burn has been simmering for a while, hasn't it? Let's just crank that heat up a bit. 🔥
Unbeta'd as usual. Taglist is always open, as is my inbox - I'd love to hear what you think! 💕
Previous Chapter ♦︎ Masterlist
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Pain. That was what Saturday brought you. So much pain.
You woke in mid-afternoon, head pounding, mouth dry, stomach roiling. Lying in bed, you tried to recall how you'd ended up in such a state. But you could only remember slivers of your night, flickering by in brief vignettes.
Cocktails. Jungkook smiling at you. More cocktails. Jin making you laugh. Wine. Jungkook whispering in your ear. More wine. Jin saying good night. And then... music? And a cherry blossom tree?
Gingerly, you sat up, glancing at the clock on your nightstand, and noticed that a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin sat there. As you reached for both, the memory suddenly hit you.
Holy shit. Had you really stormed into Jungkook's apartment and yelled at him?
God, you were such an asshole.
You groaned as your stomach lurched violently and dashed to your bathroom just in time to avoid making a mess. Fuck. You hadn't gotten sick from drinking in years. Why on earth did you have so much wine last night? You didn’t even like it!
Cheek pressed against the cold tiles of your bathroom floor, you attempted to reassemble the memories of your evening. Like putting together a puzzle, but the pieces were blurry, and the edges frayed. You remembered having a great time with Jin. And before that, Jungkook. And Taehyung? Yes, he'd been there too, at the bar, while you were waiting. Looking like a dream, from what you could picture in your mind. All of them had, honestly. You seemed to be drowning in gorgeous men lately.
There was an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach, not related to the illness you felt from too much alcohol. It had to do with something Jungkook had said to you.
But what was it?
After several minutes, you gave up, clambering off the floor and dragging yourself into the kitchen. Spotting a lone electrolyte water in the fridge, you thanked whatever deity was listening and shuffled to the living room, intending to spend the afternoon recuperating by laying on the couch like a sloth and watching tv.
As you crossed your apartment, something white caught your eye. A piece of paper, lying in front of your door. You flipped it over.
Your own face stared back at you, etched in shades of gray and black. Mouth slightly open, with one hand raised, finger pointing off the page, you appeared to be in mid-sentence, like you were admonishing the viewer. Yet your eyes seemed soft, peering at you with an expression of almost wonder.
You'd never seen yourself like this before. You couldn't believe that anyone did.
In the corner of the page was a note:
Hope you're feeling ok. I wanted to apologize for last night. I had too much to drink at Dionysus and said some things I shouldn't have. I'm sorry if I crossed a line.
P.S. See? I wasn't lying, you're cute when you're mad.
- Jungkook
Jungkook. The cherry blossom tree. Right, he was an artist. You’d learned this about him last night, when you'd given him an earful. Of, uh... fuck, what did you say to him?
No more wine for you.
Slumping onto your couch, you studied every line of the drawing, every little detail, like the delicate way he’d inked the curl of your lashes, or how he’d captured the loose strands of your hair that framed your face. This had to have taken him hours. Had he stayed up all night, working on this?
And his note. The bit about saying things he shouldn't have said. What was he talking about? Snippets of your conversation at the bar replayed in your head. He'd called you beautiful, you remembered that clearly, face warming even just in memory, but what else could he be referring to?
You closed your eyes, sighing.
"...definitely couldn't make you cum."
Ah, right.
Your eyes snapped open as it came back to you. The way he'd held you as he'd laughed and mocked Jin. You reread the note. Of course. Jungkook had been drunk. He'd been teasing you again, and the things he’d said had just been the result of too much to drink. He’d taken it too far, and he felt bad.
Obviously, Jisoo was wrong. Jungkook wasn’t attracted to you. He just liked to play with you. Rile you up. And why not? You were easy pickings. Never took much to get a rise out of you. Clearly he’d more than succeeded, if you’d been so wound up by his words that you’d actually yelled at him.
You sighed, wishing you knew what you’d said. All you could remember was being mad.
Should you apologize to him, for the way you'd barged in and berated him? You hated the thought of him thinking you were rude. That wasn’t how you usually acted, but you’d been so… keyed up last night. Not to mention Drunk with a capital D. Without knowing exactly what you'd said to Jungkook, though, you weren't sure. Besides, you weren't in the best condition at the moment.
Your head throbbed. No more thinking. You needed to rest and rehydrate. Stumbling to your bedroom for more aspirin, you carried the sketch with you, placing it on your nightstand. Would it be weird to frame it? Maybe. But you still might.
Minutes into a “Be Still My Heart” episode, you passed out on your couch.
When you woke hours later, your stomach was no longer rumbling and your head no longer ached, but you didn’t feel any more rested than when you’d awoken earlier that day. Still, it was an improvement, so you got up, showered, and threw on a pair of cozy pajama pants and a racerback tank top that read “Financial Analysts Do It With Models.” Nothing like starting the day at - you glanced at the clock - Jesus, at 7 pm.
No. More. Wine. EVER.
You ate some dry toast - your gut might have settled but you weren’t taking any chances - and curled up on the couch again, flipping aimlessly through your streaming queue.
The group text thread was blowing up your phone, all your friends wanting details about your dinner at Dionysus, but you didn’t have the emotional bandwidth to have that conversation at the moment - especially since you still couldn’t recall half the night. So you fired off a quick “too hungover to function” text with a promise to chat tomorrow, silenced your phone, and slid it into your pocket
A sweet tenor began serenading you through the wall.
Fine, maybe he wasn’t actually serenading you, but you were definitely enjoying the sound of Jungkook’s singing as it drifted across your apartment, his crystal-clear voice effortlessly traversing a tricky melody.
And it carried with it a memory, of you asking Jungkook what the fuck his deal was.
You sat up with a start as the last puzzle pieces shifted into place. Oh god, you’d marched right over to his apartment and asked him what his deal was and what he was playing at and…
And then you’d gotten completely distracted by how unbelievably hot he was and completely derailed yourself.
Flopping dramatically onto your back, you pressed a throw pillow into your face to muffle a pained groan. Well, it could’ve been worse, what you’d said to him. Mercifully, your inability to focus had kept you from making a total ass of yourself.
You’d just made an incomplete ass of yourself instead. Partial. Maybe half.
As you laid there, reliving the fragmented memories over and over, a sour feeling in the pit of your stomach nagged at you. Not from the gallons of alcohol you’d imbibed or the toast threatening to make a reappearance. It was guilt.
You couldn’t imagine what he must’ve thought of you after last night. To have someone just stomp into your apartment and start yelling? You’d immediately call them an asshole.
You didn’t want to be the asshole neighbor.
Fuck, your conscience really wasn’t going to let you rest until you made amends, was it?
Heaving yourself off of your couch with a weary sigh, you headed for your neighbor’s apartment to set things right.
The music cut off at the sound of your knocking, and you were hit with a sensation of déjà vu. It only amplified when Jungkook opened the door, clad in black sweats, looking contrite.
“Sorry, were you trying to sleep? I can turn the music down,” he apologized by way of greeting.
You shook your head. “No, the music’s fine. I just - can I come in?”
Jungkook nodded, stepping aside to let you enter, and again you felt like you were reliving the same moment. There was the sleek black furniture, the easel in the corner, the paint supplies strewn about - everything was the same as last night. Except for one thing - the cherry blossom tree was gone, replaced by a fresh, blank canvas.
Jungkook gestured to his couch, but you shook your head. You wanted to keep this short, eat crow as quickly as possible. You hovered near the door as he sat down.
“I’m a little surprised to see you up. Kinda thought you might sleep the day away,” he grinned, nose wrinkling slightly. His dark hair was tucked up into a little ponytail, looking exactly like you’d dreamed the night after you’d seen him dance at Paradise. Like your dream was a premonition.
(If only.)
You flushed, mindlessly fiddling with the drawstrings on your pants. “I just woke up a little while ago,” you admitted. You glanced back at the easel. “I’m not interrupting you, am I?”
“Oh, no. I always have that set up there,” he explained. “I’m not doing anything right now. I have to work tonight. No time to paint.”
“Ah. Well, I won’t take up too much of your time, anyway. I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” He cocked his head. “For?”
“For barreling in here last night and yelling at you. It was rude of me.”
He blinked. “You’re apologizing… to me?”
You nodded. “Well, yeah. I mean, I just pushed my way in here and started screaming at you. I feel awful about that. And I don’t want you to think less of me.”
He was silent for a moment, eyes scanning your face as if searching for something. “How much do you remember about last night?”
You pursed your lips. “Enough of it to know I acted like a jerk.”
“That’s not what I mean. Dionysus. How much do you remember from there?”
“Oh. I remember hanging out at the bar with you. And Taehyung.” You smiled. “I think he and I are best friends now, unless that was just a wine-induced hallucination.”
Jungkook grinned. “Nope, that is true. Lucky for him, not so sure about you.” His expression shifted, becoming serious again. “Is that all?”
“No.” You hesitated for a moment. “I know you made fun of Jin, my date. You said some pretty nasty things about him.”
“But you know exactly what I said?” Again, you felt like he was examining you, and you weren’t sure what he was looking for.
“Yes. I remember.”
“Then there’s nothing for you to apologize for,” he stated. “You were right to yell at me. You were on a date, and I was disrespectful. And I’m sorry.”
“Oh, no, Jungkook,” you objected, shaking your head. He shouldn’t be the one asking for forgiveness. “I got your note. Thank you, by the way.” Your face heated as you gave him a shy smile. “The sketch is amazing. I… well, I’m incredibly flattered by it, to be honest. I could tell you were talented from your painting last night, but to make me look like that takes real skill.”
Something flitted across Jungkook’s face too quickly for you to catch it.
“But you explained everything,” you continued without hesitation. “I know you enjoy teasing me. I admit I’m a fairly easy mark, the way I get worked up so quickly, as you saw the other day in my apartment, and again last night. I understand what happened. You were drunk at Dionysus, you didn’t mean the things you said. I appreciate you apologizing, but this is about me. I shouldn’t have invaded your space and shouted at you like that.”
A minute passed, and he said nothing, just observed you with those doe eyes. You felt a nervous need to say something, anything, to fill the silence, but before you could begin to babble, he finally spoke. “No.”
You frowned, brow furrowing. “No?” No, what?
“No.” He stood and took a step towards you. “No, you don’t understand. I did mean it.”
He kept walking towards you, and you backed up until you hit the door behind you. You were lost. “You meant what?”
“All of it.” He was standing a breath’s width away now, peering down at you with an intensity you vaguely recognized but couldn’t quite place. “I meant every word I said to you. Yes, I was drunk, but I wasn’t just rambling. I was trying to say what I was thinking.”
Those lips. Those perfectly pink lips. Déjà vu again. You couldn’t stop staring, even as you struggled to comprehend what he was telling you. His mouth was so distractingly close.
“What… you were thinking?” you echoed dumbly.
“Yeah.” He bit his lip, contemplating his next words, and you watched as he worried the plump flesh between his teeth. Jesus, you were practically hypnotized by the motion, and you forced yourself to look away, gazing into his eyes instead.
That seemed to give him whatever it was he needed to speak again.
“I was jealous. Of your date.” His eyes flickered to your lips and back, as he stammered. “But I - I couldn’t tell you that. So I mocked him instead. What I was trying to say… what I wanted to say was… was ....”
He trailed off, and you waited breathlessly, heart pounding, until you couldn’t take it anymore. “Was? Was what?”
“I wanted to say… he couldn’t touch you like I could.”
A hand, on your hip.
“He couldn’t make you scream, make you cum the way I could.”
Fingers, gripping.
“He wasn’t worthy of you. Because there was no way he could worship you like I could. Like I want to.” The timbre of his voice dropped, a low rumble that shot straight through you. “If you’ll let me.”
“Jungkook,” you protested feebly, head reeling, as his other hand tipped your face up, bringing your mouth so close to his.
So, so close.
The hand grasping your side was squeezing so hard, you were sure to bruise, but you didn’t care.
“Please let me,” he whispered, and you leapt across the space between you, crushing your lips against his.
Jungkook kissed you back fiercely, tongue plunging, teeth nipping, pushing you against the door as he slotted a leg between yours. You whimpered into his mouth, and that encouraged him to run his hand down your thigh and grip behind your knee, yanking your leg up to wrap around him.
A tiny voice inside your head declared that this was too much, too fast, begging you to slow down. But your body was fully in control, reacting instinctively to Jungkook’s caresses, and you weren’t stopping now.
Keening, you locked your arms around his neck, using his wide shoulders to anchor yourself while you balanced on one leg. His hair came loose, dark curls tumbling out of his ponytail, and your fingers tugged at the thick strands at his nape. Jungkook let out a needy whine, pressing himself against you, and you broke the kiss, moaning his name at the tantalizing sensation.
You’d never been kissed like this before. Every inch of you burned from Jungkook’s touch. Like a moth drawn to a flame, you yearned to let him engulf you until you turned to ash.
Jungkook’s fingers danced along your waist, dipping underneath the band of your pajama pants, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “Can I?”
That little voice screamed now, shouting at you to stop, breathe, think for a moment, but you told it to shut the fuck up.
You kissed him again, nose bumping his as you nodded.
With your leg still raised, hooked around his thick thigh, you were open to him. He traced lightly over your folds, swirling the slickness there, letting out a debauched groan at feeling how ready for him you were, so quickly. You bucked against him slightly, urging him on, and he answered your silent entreaty, slipping one long finger inside.
You were so wet that he met no resistance, and you sighed happily as he crooked his digit, stroking you just right.
His mouth roamed, exhaling hot air against your ear before sliding his tongue along the ridge. As he did this, he also slid a second finger inside you.
“Fuck!” you gasped, surprised by the sudden addition. He began to pump his fingers in and out, fucking you fast, and your head dropped, resting on his shoulder, as you started to pant. “Jungkook!”
He simply grunted, licking along your neck, as he continued to thrust his fingers rapidly. The sound of his filthy ministrations filled the room, a lewd squelching joined by soft whispers as he nuzzled his nose into your ear and murmured quiet words of praise, like an invocation. His palm ground against your clit, and you jolted, overwhelmed, letting out a cry as you came.
Your orgasm hit you so unexpectedly, so powerfully, that you thrashed, twisting in Jungkook’s grip, and your leg fell from around his waist. Your phone was jostled from your pocket and hit the ground, landing face up. Jungkook removed his fingers, releasing you from his hold, and as you bent to retrieve your phone, you saw you had a missed message from earlier:
Seokjin (7:27): Feeling ok today? I have a surefire hangover cure if you need it
Jin, being sweet and checking up on you. Jin, the man you went on a date with last night. Jin, whom you’d invited up last night, who would maybe be knuckle deep inside you right now instead of Jungkook if you hadn’t been so drunk.
Fuck. Guilt came roaring back, driving your euphoric bliss away and settling in the pit of your stomach again.
What the fuck were you doing?
You hurriedly stuffed your phone back into your pocket as you straightened up.
Jungkook was breathing heavily, eyes darkened, that intense look on his face once again making you shiver. As you watched, he brought his tattooed hand to his lips and sucked his fingers into his mouth, tongue swirling to collect every drop.
“Hmm. As sweet as I imagined.”
Jesus Christ. You had to get out of there.
If you didn’t leave right now, you were definitely going to fuck him, and as amazing as you were sure that would be, it wouldn’t help your befuddled brain at all.
“Jungkook, I - “
“I just wish we had more time.” He glanced at his watch. “Shit. I’m later than I thought.”
There was your out.
“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry, I should leave,” you blurted, reaching for the door.
His fingers wrapped around your wrist, gently prying it off the doorknob, pulling you back to face him. He looked abashed. “I’m not trying to kick you out. You know that, right?”
He seemed genuinely worried that you thought he was trying to get rid of you. Goddamn it, why did he have to be so sweet?
“I know,” you nodded.
“Okay. We’ll just… have to finish this another time.”
There was that cute little bunny smile that you loved so much. The transformation was astounding. How the hell could he fingerfuck you like that and then turn into this shy guy again?
“Another time,” you chirped, trying desperately to escape. You needed space. You needed to think.
You needed to figure out what the hell you were doing.
“Promise?” he implored, hand grasping your chin gently so your gaze met his.
His wide eyes would be the death of you.
“Promise,” you breathed.
You weren’t sure if that was a lie or not.
Jungkook leaned in and brushed his mouth against yours. “See you around, neighbor,” he exhaled softly, a ghost of a smirk dancing across his lips.
It took all your strength to peel yourself off the door and leave.
Collapsing onto your couch, you whipped out your phone.
(7:47): 🆘🆘🆘🆘🆘
(7:47): NEED HELP
Bestie 😇 (7:49): What’s going on???
You quickly sent her a video chat request.
Jennie’s face popped onto your screen, alarm etched onto her pretty features. “What is going on?” she squeaked. “You NEVER want to be on video!”
“Jennieeeeee,” you wailed, propping your phone on your table so she could see your face while you laid on your side, looking as pathetic as you felt. “I’m in pain, and I don’t know what to do!”
You quickly filled her in on your date at Dionysus, leaving nothing out. At least, nothing that you remembered - there were still some slight gaps left that all that booze had erased. But you felt sure that you recalled all the important moments now.
Jennie didn’t interrupt, but her face went on an incredible journey as she listened, from surprised at Jungkook’s appearance, to elated at Jin’s charm, to absolutely appalled at Jungkook’s comments, and ending with bubbly giggles at Jin’s goodbye.
“Okay, wow, no wonder you are hurting today!” Jennie cackled once you’d paused to take a breath. “You know wine is not your friend!”
“That’s not the source of my pain, and that’s not the end of my night, Jennie,” you informed her dryly.
“But you said Jin went home? It sounds to me like you had an amazing time, minus the vulgar interruption from your neighbor. I can’t believe he said those things to you!”
“Yeah, I couldn’t believe it either. That’s why I confronted him.”
Jennie’s eyebrows shot up. “You? Miss I Don’t Do Confrontation? Aren’t you the one who once hated their lazy lab partner so much that, rather than just call them on their refusal to help, you dropped the entire biology course?!”
You rolled your eyes. “There’s no need to rehash that incident again, but I would like to remind you that I changed my major right after that, so I didn’t even need that class after all.” This was the problem with a best friend who remembered everything: she remembered everything. “But look - I was incredibly drunk! Thanks to all that wine, my anger managed to override my natural instincts, including my tendency to avoid, um, everything.”
“Fine. So what happened?”
“I banged on Jungkook’s door and demanded that he let me in. I accused him of playing games and asked him what his deal was.” You winced. “I think I even called him Bambi to his face.”
“What did he say??”
“Well, he didn’t really respond, because I kept getting distracted. I mentioned I was super drunk, right?” You sighed. “He’s an artist, Jennie. He had this painting of a cherry blossom tree… it was so lovely. I wish I had a photo of it that I could send to you, because I can’t describe his talent with words.”
Jennie tipped her head, considering. “So you didn’t get any answers from him because you got distracted by a painting?”
You made a face. “Um, no, it wasn’t just the painting. It was also… his face. I got sidetracked by how handsome he is.”
“You what?”
“I got distracted by his gorgeous fucking face and he ended up walking me back to my apartment and put me to bed, because, once again, I cannot stress just how fucking drunk I was!”
Jennie cracked up so loudly that you heard a voice in the background drone, “What is so funny?” A handsome face appeared over her shoulder, cat-like eyes blinking languidly.
“Hey Yoongi,” you waved.
“Hey,” Yoongi replied. “Nice shirt.” Then he drifted away.
“Man of few words, as always,” you commented.
“Yeah, I’m a lucky gal,” Jennie grinned. “Anyway, let me see if I’m following this correctly. You went over to yell at Jungkook for being a jerk at Dionysus and ended up, what - swooning over his cute little doe eyes? And instead of him defending himself or fighting back, he took care of you? And now you’re upset about it?” The camera angle suddenly tilted as she mirrored your pose, lying on her bed. “Babe, I bet that’s guilt. Remember how you felt any time we fought? You were always the first to apologize.”
She knew you way too well.
“I did feel guilty when I woke up this morning. Or this evening, actually. I slept most of the day away because, again, drunk. But, uh, that’s not what has me freaking out right now.”
“Oh my god, you are killing me with this story. Then what is it??”
You inhaled deeply and closed your eyes, huffing the words out in one big whoosh. “I went over there a few minutes ago to apologize and Jungkook told me not to, because he was jealous of Jin and said he wanted me to worship me and then he kissed me and pushed me up against his door and fingerbanged me into the most intense orgasm I’ve had in months.”
Silence. You cracked an eye open. Jennie’s image was frozen.
“Oh shit, Jennie, I think you’re frozen. Let me call you ba- ”
“He WHAT?!”
Jennie’s mouth was a perfect O as she stared at you, and you covered your face with your hands.
“He fingerfucked me. Oh my god, Jennie, it was so good, he got me off so fast. Like embarrassingly fast, I went from dry to dripping in nanoseconds, and I nearly climbed him right then and there but he had to get to work. So I ran back here and called you, because while Jungkook was fingering me, Jin was texting me.”
“Oh my god, babe, your neighbor is a goddamn demon.” Jennie shrieked, dropping out of frame as she rolled with laughter. She reappeared after a few seconds, wiping her eyes. “You mean to tell me that not only did he not apologize for saying those vile things to you while you were on a date, not only did he reject your apology, but he then seduced you? Wow.”
“It’s not funny,” you insisted weakly.
“Sorry, but it kind of is. God, I wish Jisoo were here. She’d be dying, too.”
“Sure, let’s all laugh at my pain.”
Jennie ignored your melodramatic whining. “Honestly, after experiencing him in motion at Paradise, and then hearing your shower story, and now this, I’m convinced Bambi might be an incubus in disguise or something.”
You sighed. “Anyway, you’re not quite right. I mean, Jungkook did apologize - did I not mention that? Oh!” You jumped up, grabbed your phone, and ran to your bedroom. “I do have some of his art that I can show you.”
“Wait, why are we back to talking about art?”
“Hold on, just check this out.” You held the sketch up, giving her a few minutes to examine it.
“Oh, wow. He really captured you so well.” Jennie's voice softened as she studied the drawing.
“He took some artistic liberties.”
Jennie glared. “You’re beautiful, and I won’t hear otherwise. You have the proof right there!” She paused. “Not to mention you have two hot as fuck men fighting over you. Jungkook really said he was jealous?”
“Yeah.” You bit your lip, putting the sketch down and laid down on your bed. “So he apologized, and admitted jealousy, and… and I don’t know what to think now.”
“He said he wanted you, right?”
“To worship me,” you corrected her. “He wanted to worship me.”
“What the hell does that mean? Like, he wants to fuck you? How long does this “worship” last - one night?”
“I don’t know,” you repeated, shrugging. “I’m not sure if he’s just out to fuck me. He seemed pretty sweet after he got me off. Like, I tried to rush out of there, but he stopped me. He wanted me to promise we’d continue... whatever that was.”
“He made you promise?”
"Hmmm." Jennie frowned. “Why were you running out of there?”
“Uh, because I saw Jin’s text, and I needed to think. Being around Jungkook… it’s hard to think straight.” “Oh, I am aware. My brain is still a little scrambled from my lapdance!” Jennie smirked. “But what did Jin want? Was he asking you out again?”
“He was checking up on me. He wanted to know how I’m feeling today.”
“That’s because Jin is a total sweetheart! He’d be so good for you.”
“I know.”
“Look, I know I’m biased, but I really think Jin is the better man here. There’s no head games with him. He’s not swanning around half-naked to tease you, or whispering wild words in your ear. He’s honest and upfront. Safe. Everything you could want from a partner!”
Her words weren’t anything you hadn’t already considered. You knew that Jin was a dream come true for someone looking for the perfect partner.
Was that someone still you?
Because even if you were still a little hazy on bits of last night, you couldn’t recall Jin ever making your pulse race the way Jungkook did. And until Jungkook had touched you, had made you fall apart the way he did, you hadn’t let yourself think for one second that you could have him.
So what did you want - the perfect partner or the burning flame?
Your head was starting to ache again.
“Are you still with me, babe, or did you freeze?”
“Yeah,” you sighed. “I’m here. Just thinking.”
“Oh, that’s what that sound was. The gears turning.” “Ha,” you intoned lifelessly.
“I’m sorry. I’m not sure I’ve done much to help you here.”
“No, you have. Just talking it out helps.”
She hummed. “So, what are you going to do now?”
“I guess I should text Jin back, to start.”
"And what about Jungkook?"
You exhaled noisily. "I don’t know."
"I just don't want to see you get hurt."
You knew that. Jennie only wanted to see you happy.
Jungkook's face hung in your mind, the way he'd looked at you when you'd made your promise. Your gut told you he was being sincere in that moment.
But your gut had been wrong before. And your heart had paid the price.
"I know. I’ll figure it out.”
You must’ve sounded more confident than you felt, because Jennie believed you. After hanging up, you stared at the drawing on your nightstand until you drifted off to sleep.
You dreamt of dark eyes and lithe fingers, and a voice whispering “Please let me.”
Sunday morning, you were resolved.
You called Jin.
He answered by calling out your name in delight. “To what do I owe this early morning pleasure?”
You’d slept straight through the night and woken up early (for you) for once, around eight. After lying in bed for a while, again pouring over the events of the previous two evenings, obsessing over every word, every action, you came to a decision.
You needed to give Jin a fair shot.
Too much of your date was a drunken blur. And though last night, you’d believed that Jin couldn’t drive you wild the way Jungkook could, the truth was, he really hadn’t had the chance yet.
So who were you to deny a devastatingly handsome man the opportunity to knock your socks off?
(Only if he wanted to, of course. Sock knocking had to be consensual.)
“Hey, Jin. I wanted to know if you were free today?”
It turned out Jin had plans in your part of town (a dinner meeting - you idly wondered if there was ever day when he didn’t have a meeting scheduled), so he agreed to come over and watch a movie in the afternoon - with the caveat that you let him make you his famous peanut butter caramel popcorn in exchange for hosting the date. Like you were going to argue with a professional chef offering to cook for you.
That’s how you found yourself sitting at your dining table, watching with glee as Jin took over your kitchen. He bustled around the tiny space, tall frame stooping as he dug around for cookware and utensils, with a helpful point or two from you.
“This seems insanely complicated for popcorn,” you remarked, eyeing all of the ingredients as Jin pulled them out of his shopping bag. Given how your cabinets were typically barren, he’d had to pick up all the necessities on his way over.
“It’s not so bad,” he replied. “You just cook the popcorn on the stovetop, then prepare the caramel peanut butter sauce, then combine the two and bake for an hour. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.” “Couldn’t you use microwave popcorn and save yourself some time and effort?”
Jin looked affronted. “Microwave popcorn? Excuse me?”
You giggled. “Or what if you just got that caramel sauce they sell at stores - the stuff for ice cream sundaes - and poured that over the microwave popcorn? Instead of mixing all that - what is that, brown sugar and butter and whatever else you’ve got there?”
“One more terrible suggestion and I’m banishing you from the kitchen.”
“Sorry, chef.”
Jin took his eye off of the popping corn for a second to peer at you, eyebrow raised suggestively. “All right, you can stay if you keep calling me ‘chef.”
“Yes, chef. I’ll be good, chef,” you purred sweetly.
Noting the way his back straightened in response to your words, you filed that info away for later.
Jin appeared to be treating you to a private performance of his cooking series, telling stories, cracking jokes, and even giving you a brief explainer on the science behind caramelization. You were rapt, hanging on every word, mesmerized by how effortless he made it look. No wonder he was so in-demand - he put on a good show.
Your front row seat also allowed you to admire his beauty up close. Sure, he’d been just as handsome last night, but you were viewing him through a sober lens now, which meant you could appreciate him better. Wavy brown hair hung loosely in his face, skimming dark brows that moved animatedly when he spoke. His warm brown eyes sparkled when he glanced at you, crinkling merrily when he guffawed at his own jokes, and you kept catching yourself staring at his dazzling smile.
Jisoo was absolutely going to die of jealousy when you filled her in later.
Jin insisted on doing the dishes after the popcorn went into the oven, and again, you weren’t going to tell him ‘no.’
“So, is this how you got into cooking? Making elaborate snacks for your friends?”
“Nope. I started cooking solely to charm women.” He winked as he dried his hands, grabbing an oven mitt to check on the popcorn.
“Ah. And how is that going?”
He opened the oven door, waving his hand to waft the mouth-watering scent of salty sweet caramel towards you. “You tell me.” You were practically drooling. “So far, so good.”
The movie you’d chosen was a recent romcom Jennie had raved about. Jin had struck you as the type of guy to enjoy a silly romance flick. Your hunch was correct. His delightful honk of a laugh filled your apartment as the afternoon flew by.
Hanging out with Jin was so easy. You felt completely relaxed, sitting next to him on your couch, giggling at his reactions more than at the movie itself. He was an active spectator, cackling and gasping and shouting at the two leads as they blundered their way through an increasingly ridiculous series of obstacles meant to keep them apart until the final scene, when they declared their love.
“Ah, that was great!” Jin exclaimed as the credits rolled. He propped his elbow on the back of the couch, leaning his head on his hand as he looked at you. “You know, I was a little worried for a while there that they wouldn’t end up together.”
Jin snorted. “No, of course not! Films like this always end the same way, with a dramatic confession of love. They’re so predictable.”
You laughed, devouring a handful of popcorn. Jin’s hard work had paid off deliciously. “But that’s the beauty of these movies! You know exactly where they’re heading. There’s always a happy ending.” You sighed. “If only life were like that.”
Jin tossed some popcorn into the air, catching it in his mouth. “Would you really want your life to be like that? Predictable?” He chucked another piece and you giggled as it bounced off his nose.
“If it means I’ll end up living happily ever after?” You shrugged. “Doesn’t sound so bad to me.”
“I don’t know,” he mused. “Surprises can be nice. Chance encounters, unexpected pleasures - these are the things that make life worth living, to me. I get to travel because of what I do, and meet so many people, experience different cultures, discover new food - my life is an adventure and I never know where it will take me next.” He grinned. “I don’t know where I’ll end up all the time, but I’m still happy, because I enjoy the journey along the way.”
“Well, when you put it like that…” you trailed off as Jin laughed.
He made it sound so thrilling, living without knowing where the moment would take him. Your whole life was about knowing the next move, trying to plan everything out to reach the predicted outcome. The desired result.
Maybe you should try embracing the unknown. Pursue your own unanticipated delights.
Jungkook’s wicked smirk flashed through your mind. You pushed him aside.
“Tell me more about these unexpected pleasures,” you said, tucking your legs under you as you faced Jin on the couch. Time to make your move.
Jin’s eyebrow quirked as he regarded you, disappearing under his bangs. “I could tell you, or I could show you,” he suggested, his hand resting comfortably on your thigh.
You couldn’t help but burst into giggles.
Jin looked slightly shocked at your reaction. “What? Too much?”
“No, no, that was perfect,” you smiled. “You just sounded exactly like the guy from the movie for a minute.”
“Ah. It wasn’t the most original line, I admit.”
“You don’t need any lines,” you informed him, sliding closer. Cheesy romcom delivery or not, he was still cute, and you still wanted to know what those lips would feel like on yours.
“I don’t?” He thumb caressed your leg as he peered down at you.
You shook your head, tilting your face up. Jin took the hint, his other hand cupping the back of your head gently as he pulled you closer -
Another giggle fit overtook you, and you laughed against Jin’s lips. He leaned away, fumbling in his pocket for his phone, trying desperately to silence his ringtone.
“I’m sorry, but was that ‘Bitch Better Have My Money?’'' you asked between giggles.
Jin nodded, face turning red. “Yeah. That’s my manager’s ringtone.” He glanced at his screen. “Damn, it’s almost 6. He’s probably calling to see if I’m on my way.”
The moment had passed, so you stood, stretching. “Thanks for cooking for me. Are you sure you don’t want to take any of the stuff you bought?”
“Nah, you can keep it. In case you want to try making the popcorn yourself.”
You doubted you’d put in the effort, but you thanked him anyway.
The two of you shuffled towards the door. Jin propped himself against the door frame and peered down at you. “Maybe next time, instead of a snack, I can cook you dinner? At my place?” He grinned. “It’s a lot more impressive if I make a whole meal.”
“You still think you need to impress me?”
He shrugged. “I’d like to try, anyway.”
“I guess I shouldn’t argue with that,” you remarked drolly, and Jin chuckled.
He towered over you, a warm smile on his lips. Here was your chance again. Surging up onto your toes, you tugged lightly at his shirt, yanking him down into a kiss.
No phone calls interrupted you this time. There was only you and Jin, his arms wrapping around your waist as your hands came to rest on his broad chest. His kiss was slow and sure, warmth spreading throughout you as his mouth gently caressed yours.
Not a blazing fire, but a smouldering flame.
Knowing that Jin needed to go, you pulled away, settling back on your heels as you smiled up at him.
A rattling to your left startled you. You and Jin weren’t alone.
Jungkook stood frozen at his door, keys dangling from the lock, as he watched the two of you with wide eyes.
A hush settled over the hallway.
There was that desperate urge again to fill the silence as Jungkook gazed at you, his expression unwavering. Rushing to speak, you stuttered a hello, but he quickly turned away, disappearing into his apartment, leaving you staring at the spot where he'd been.
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© 2021 by sunshinerainbowsbts. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.
Taglist: @mwitsmejk @claricedelune @teresaisla @sadxaries @httpfandxms @lavienjin @lovelyfreshfestival @bts-junseagull @bangtannoonalvg @yoonchrisgull @misohime @btswithlov @dasexydevitt13 @nabiolive @travelleratheart101 @hannahbee12719ficrecs @reliablemitten @thataquariusreader @moonchild1 @helenazbmrskai @uselessmags @kissme-ornot @kirapaige @synnfulqt
Couldn't tag: @rumpucis @loosewindmill
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bonny-kookoo · a day ago
Jungkook: Moonshiners 🔞 ⚠️
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In which waking up as a whole has become somewhat of a dissapointment to Jungkook- and accepting help, be it professional or simply your constantly outreached hand, feels like a disaster waiting to happen. After all, all he does is fucking things- or fuck things up.
Tags/warnings: Angst, Its so angsty, Depression, a pinch of self-hatred, smoking, mentions of drinking, mentions of divorced parents, mentions of addiction, Jungkook uses sex to cope, basically fuckboy!Kook, hopeless romantic!Reader, Dead dove: Do not eat (Meaning: other potentially triggering content I won't tag as to not spoil the content.)
Wordcount: 4.1k
Please, if you can see even a hint of yourself in Kook in this story, I'd really like you to know that there's no shame in reaching out for help. Please reach out if you feel the need to. There's, again, no shame in getting the help you deserve. You're worth it, even if you might think otherwise.
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He'd almost let you into his apartment last night.
He stopped himself seconds before the words could come out, practically slamming the door into your face before his mind could betray him and let you inside. It's not even just the mess inside, but the mess that's him he doesn't want you to see- even though he's sure you're already aware of the train wreck that he was. After all, he'd just recently lost his job again, meaning he was yet again dependent on others to somehow make it to another day every single day. Even though waking up was the most disappointing moment of his every morning.
Why did he need to pay to simply exist, when he never asked to in the first place?
Out of place is how he feels as he clicks through all the job-listings online, nothing in particular catching his interest. He thinks about lighting a cigarette, but he doesn't have an ashtray inside his apartment- and he also never wanted to smoke inside at all anyways. But a small look around the laundry scattered and trash bags on the floor makes him sigh. Smoking should be the last thing he should be concerned about when he looked as his surroundings. There was a trail where he could see his floor- the same trail he took usually, bordered by clothes and other items like bags and cardboard boxes. He chuckles to himself as he thought about you recommending him to maybe get a pet. How could anything live inside this place apart from him? And then again, he didn't really feel alive at all- so maybe he didn't even count himself.
This was his coffin, self-made and dark and comfortable all at the same time.
He leans back in his chair, sighing out as he pulls out his phone, opening the dating app. He didn't feel like sleeping here tonight.
If the girl knew how he lived, or how the inside of his head looked, would she still ride him with the same excitement that she exhibited now?
Probably not, but then again, he lost the will to really care for it either- his looks a blessing and a curse at the same time for him as he let the feeling of pleasure run through him. Though he really could start to argue that pleasure wasn't really the right word to quite describe it. Sex had long lost its meaning to him, had long become boring and a simple need to feel anything at all as he gripped her hips tightly, almost rolling his eyes at the way she clenched around his dick inside her. Her moans were a bit much, but it was fine- he had no right to complain about it, after all.
Finding partners on dating apps wasn't that hard for him- his messages always very clear cut and direct. If someone couldn't handle that, he would shoot them down immediately. He wasn't on the search for something permanent or committed, he's too broke to spend money on dates, and at the end of the day he's really only searching for a quick fuck and a place to crash for the night until he had to return to his dumpster that was his apartment.
The girl had pretty expensive looking furniture, he noticed as he looked around, her nails scratching his chest a bit as she moved on his cock. Some plants here and there made him feel inferior to her somehow- he'd never be able to keep anything close to him alive for a long period of time. He'd seen a cat or something when she'd brought him inside as well, the sight almost alienating him completely from the world she seemed to exist in. It smelled nice, fresh and clean, not stuffy and like past dinners like his apartment did.
"Don't you dare cum right now-" He grits out as he can feel her become a little tighter, frustration gripping him as he eagerly chases his high, mind finally take away from his surroundings as he feels his balls tighten. She only seems to get even more excited at that, his grip on her tightening a little as he finally feels himself spill into the condom he wears, riding it out as she somehow finishes as well ontop of him.
When she leans down to kiss, he turns his head to the side however.
"Do you think you could maybe pick me up then?" You ask from across him, as he simply nods and shrugs his shoulders, reaching for his soda.
The fastfood restaurant is bustling, his hood over his head as he scarfs down whatever food you had ordered for him- shame long gone when it came to you always paying for whatever meetup you agreed to. At first, he had been a bit awkward- but by now, he feels nothing anymore, other than disgust with himself as he lives in the moment, enjoying warm fries and a soft burger. "Didn't clean my car though." He comments with a full mouth, swallowing without looking up as you shrug.
"I'm used to it." You say, and he feels his movements stutter a bit. You shouldn't be used to it, he thinks when he looks at your brown shoes- so small compared to his own worn down combat boots he always wore. "You could always let me do it. I told you I don't mind it." You tell him, and he nods. He knows. Its one of those things he feels so utterly confused about when it came to you.
He's got no shame living off of everyone's else expense, has no issue with taking every hand stretched out to him, sucking off the meat from their bones and leaving the rest for them to regrow. But he can't seem to really feel that way towards you. You manage to make him still feel a little ashamed, a bit bashful, a glimpse of frustration over his life and his decisions at this point.
He won't believe its love though.
Love exists in people's minds, but its not real. He knows its not- he's seen it in his parents, who apparently loved each other so much for so long. Probably, and then they just suddenly woke up and decided that married life wasn't for them, and a kid was too much to handle. Surely that was how love worked- it lead humans to somehow get together and reproduce, and then it would simply blow out like a candle, leaving nothing but smoke and a biting stench for a good while before all of its remnants were left cold and covered in wax.
If that was what love was, then Jungkook didn't want it.
He actually cleaned out his car a little as he picks you up from your brother's wedding.
He'd thrown out a trashbag worth of empty cans and food containers, before spaying some air freshener and at least trying to get all the crumbs out of his seats. It wasn't much, but it had given him something to do throughout the day other than staring at his walls.
You're pretty, he notices instantly; a soft pastel colored lace dress and heels, while a small necklace decorates your collarbones. He'd be stupid not to notice, really- and he would never deny the fact that he was physically definitely attracted to you. "Hey, thank you!" You say as you get into the passenger seat, waving at your relatives before Jungkook drives off, for once obeying every single traffic law he remembers. "Wow, I thought you didn't clean your car?" You said, smiling as you looked around, the seatbelt digging between your breasts a little- something he can't help but notice, though he'd never say it out loud.
"Was bored." He simply answers, wondering why you still smile even though he barely ever talks much. "Straight home?" He asks, and you nod, before verbally agreeing with him, enjoying the car ride with him. He's wearing the same sweater and pants he wore yesterday you notice, but you don't say it out loud as you try not to stare at him. You know he's probably still upset over loosing his job- so you don't want to question his behavior too much.
"I got a new laptop." You say suddenly, and he hums something akin to acknowledgment. "We could watch a new series on it, it's been a while since we've spent time together, no?" You carefully ask, and he's quiet for a moment.
He should say yes. He knows your apartment- its cozy, always warm but never too much so, your laundry always smells nice, and your home is always clean and the perfect amount of chaotic. He craves the comfort he feels there, the weightlessness he experiences whenever he sleeps in the blankets you give him, the weird sense of safety on your couch whenever he'd closed his eyes to go to sleep there.
"Gotta job hunt, sorry." He says instead.
He doesn't deserve any of that, he decides.
He's in a shower, white tiles against one of his hands, while the other is buried in dirty blonde hair.
She's good with her mouth, tongue making him feel good as she makes sure to try and take all of him in. Even though they're both in a place where they should clean themselves, she's still got her chest stained with his earlier release, her hands on his hipbones as she tries to get as much of a reaction out of him as she can.
Her place is a bit different, he'd noticed.
It's small, but also a little unwelcoming. It seems a lot darker than his apartment could ever be, even though he constantly has his black out curtains closed to not let any glimpse of the inside be seen from outside- which was ridiculous, considering he lived on the seventh floor of his building. She lived on the bottom floor, cars speeding by every now and then somewhere in front of her windows, but he can't hear them now over the constant bustling noise of the water coming from the shower head above.
She's also a bit like you, however.
He never asked her to give him a blowjob, she simply got down to her knees as she'd spotted him about to take a shower, dick still far from flaccid, apparently inviting her to please him yet again after the previous round of screwing around in her sheets. He likes the shower- its where her perfume isn't so strong that it makes his head hurt.
You never wear perfume, he remembers as he cums. You always smell gently, softly, never too over the top.
"I know what you're doing." You say over the phone, making him squirm around in his seat, glow of his phone and laptop screen the only light source in his apartment. "You're pushing me away Kook, please." You say, and he wants to argue. He wants to make you believe some sort of lie or scenario that could explain why he was so busy these days. He knows he's good at lying, at making up excuses, but he doesn't say anything in this case, stays quiet as you try and get trough him. "I promise you I won't mind any of it- I'll help you. You can even leave and let me do it by myself if you don't want to be there while-" You start, and he knows you don't mind.
He knows you'd always help him- that's the kind of person you simply were.
"No, I should help." He manages to say, before he sighs. "Wait no, I'll do it on my own, I can do it." He says, and you sigh on the other end of the line.
"I'll come over tomorrow, alright?" You say gently, and he hates how sweet and soft your voice sounds, eyes glazing up and nose stinging as he realizes he'll have to face things tomorrow already. "I'll sleep in front of your door like a dog if you don't let me in." You giggle, and he chokes up, head falling onto his table as he starts to cry. You know he does, you can hear him breathe heavily and sniffle, and it hurts you just as much.
But you know him, you know he needs help, and you want to be the one to finally manage to take his hand and lead him on a better path. You know you won't be able to help him all by yourself the whole ride along- but you can help him see, open his eyes, and maybe trust himself to another person who can help him. Maybe even get medication- the world of medicine had evolved so much by now, you knew there was a better option than letting him stay like this. "I won't let you rot away like this, Kookie." You say.
And he finally caves in on himself as he hears you hang up the call, crying freely for what feels like hours.
When he opens the door, you're in a grey sweater and simple jeans.
You have a backpack on, and he assumes you've packed cleaning supplies probably, since you knew him well enough to be aware of the fact that he possibly didn't even know the difference between laundry detergent and fabric softener.
"Hey." You say, and he chews on the inside of his cheek, before he lets you inside the dark apartment, before he switches on the lights for the first time in a year. "Hah, thank god!" You suddenly say, and his eyes widen as you put your bag down, making him cringe as he can spot an empty cup of something he didn't clean up well enough, contents grey and dry, probably staining the poor bag now. "I thought it would be way worse." You say to yourself, simply opening the bag to get out a roll of trashbags. "So- I don't know what you want to keep and what can be thrown away, except for trash obviously-" You begin, giving him a bag.
He feels useless and out of place standing there like that.
"So you can pick up with me. You said you wanted to help, after all." You say. He nods after he sees you start picking up stuff without hesitation, brows furrowing in shame as he watches your delicate hands pick up cardboard and empty food containers bare and with no gloves or other form of protection.
"You can uhm..." He starts. "Leave the food waste and like, rotten stuff to me." He says, and you shrug.
"If you want to." You say. "I don't mind it. I've had to live with my brother for two years after all- I've seen worse." You say, still smiling as you go about your way.
You were another example of love in his eyes.
Your parents had never been married in the first place, your mother a drug addict who eventually got sent to a rehab, leaving you in the care of your then barely of age brother. You had only been thirteen years old, and yet you had to somehow start to learn how to do household chores and keep up with school and everything else. Why you turned out to become a hopeless romantic and love-story lover he'd never understand.
And as you both clean up, he becomes more and more comfortable with you around, more at ease with your presence in his home. "Ugh, my back!" You laugh, standing straight before you lean back into your hands on your back, and he feels bad seeing you like that. You close up the bag you've filled, putting it close to his front door before you take a broom, squealing a bit as you touch it.
"What- you okay?" He says in alarm as you jump into his arms, the first actual close contact you both ever really had in what feels like forever. He wants to step away, feels ashamed of maybe not smelling good, not wanting to disgust you, as you simply grin with closed eyes.
"Spiderwebs, Sorry!" You say, wiping your hand off your pants. "They just spooked me, that's all." You tell him, and he smiles down at you.
You notice it immediately, printing it inside your mind to remember it for the rest of the day. That was the moment you've worked forward to- seeing him so comfortable, actually smiling even if it was just a little. But it had reached his eyes, made them crease a little at the edges like they've done in the past, when you had first met. You stare at the broom now however, like it was a battle waiting to happen.
And then there's a sound that makes both of you stop and stare for a second.
He doesn't even notice chuckling at your dramatic display against the simple spiderwebs and daddy long legs tangled in them. And then the broom falls over, making you yelp out in shock and step on the poor spider, and you suddenly both just start to laugh out loud at the pure chaos of the moment.
And as he eats with you on the floor of his now way more tidy apartment, the first meal in ages out of his tiny oven, he feels a bit lighter.
A bit better.
He's learned to eat before taking his medication.
Throwing up wasn't fun, but it was common whenever he just took his pills just to go for a smoke and call it a day. It had somehow forced him into an actual day and night cycle, remembering things such as meals and drinking actual water and not booze for once. And also, for once, he's got his phone in his hand for an entirely different reason.
Tapping around, he deletes apps and messages, cleans up his email inbox to make sure if any job interviews come in, they wouldn't just be drowned out by his other masses of unread mails. There's a message coming in on one of his dating apps, a pretty girl from his area having matched with his profile.
But as he looks at his now relatively clean apartment, little Bonsai tree on his windowsill, he simply scoffs.
And deletes the app, before locking his phone, and grabbing his car keys.
He shares lasagna from a takeout place close by on your bed, occasionally battling over a spoonful of food playfully, while watching a new webseries on your laptop. There's stickers on the device all around, making it uniquely you- warmth seeping through the blanket he's got over his legs as you occasionally giggle at whatever scene amuses you.
He feels comfortable.
"Oh look-" You say, pointing at something on the screen. "Dude's got a bonsai too. Are you still watering yours?" You wonder, looking at him as he nods, turning to you, unprepared to be so close to your face so suddenly.
"I do." He simply says, unable to look away from your lips; shimmering and a little red from either the tomato sauce of the dish you had both been eating, or maybe they were naturally like that. "I.." he starts, licking over his lips before cringing- thats stupid why did he do that, you'd never kiss him now-
But then you do, a simple peck, and its something Jungkook should be used to- but he doesn't kiss. He doesn't like kissing, its stupid and unnecessary, an act of love, and he doesn't like love. He doesn't want love. He doesn't want to love anybody, or be with anybody at all.
But he wants you- and if it meant falling in love, then maybe he could make an exception.
He presses the spacebar of your laptop, closing it, before he slides it to the bottom of the bed, food long empty as he sets the container on top of the closed device, spoons clattering in the tin container a bit, before he turns towards you, sitting like a deer caught in the headlights with your sweater paws and hood over your head. He suddenly looses all confidence in himself, realizing how different he was from you still. He looks down, tongue in his mouth moving around as he becomes self-conscious around himself again. "What is it?" You ask, and he shrugs.
He doesn't know either.
He'd never felt this way about himself when he was with other girls- he never thought of himself as anything less attractive, but as he looked at you, and your clean sheets and soft clothes and delicate skin, he feels like a stain on a white wedding dress. Out of place, disgusting to look at, something that needs to be removed. But then you reach out, carefully so, taking his hand in yours, holding one of his with both of yours. "Its okay if you don't like me like that." You say, and he shakes his head, clearing his thoughts, before he leans over you, kissing you silly, for the first time enjoying how your lips feel against his.
He feels like he's exchanging his soul for something better, as if he's giving all his trash to you to turn it all into diamonds. He feels something he hasn't in ages, or maybe ever- he feels excited, restless, he feels antsy and unable to quite decide what to do, where to touch first, if he should at all.
But he knows your sweater needs to go.
"How could I not like you like that?" He breathes against your lips. "I owe you everything." He says, and you shake your head at that.
"You owe me nothing, Jungkook." You say, and he nods, and its then that you notice it after he's helped you out of your sweater, accidentally throwing it on top of the empty food container, making it fall to the floor loudly, both of you laughing as you get spooked by the sound almost simultaneously.
He looks so much younger now.
He's grinning from ear to ear, boyishly smiling at you when you hide your bare chest from him, hands gentle as they pull yours away from your body, revealing what he's always wanted to see to his eyes. He feels as if he needs to worship you, like he needs to cherish you, love you.
Not because he owes you- but because he's finally able to.
He knows you're aware of his past endeavors, and you know he's aware of the fact that its not your first time. As he pulls the condom over his dick, his palms running over your skin, carefully feeling the softness of your chest before he takes one of your breasts into his hands thumb beginning to play with the nipple as he enters you. He feels at home, sensitivity in him fueling his noises, grunts escaping him without holding back at his pace, holding your hips with so much care.
"I love you." He presses out, breath fanning over your shoulder as he leans down, your arms moving to pull him further into you, wrapping around his neck as he feels safe for the first time in years. He feels as if your tiny body underneath him is the only thing keeping him grounded, as if you shield him from all evil- and it has nothing to do with your velvety walls clenching around him inside of you. "I fucking love you." He grits out between his teeth, hand coming down between the two of you as he rubs over your core in eagerness, bringing you to your sudden release, breathless sound from your mouth making him smile while he needs a few more thrusts to unravel in your arms.
He really feels at home in your arms.
"Jungkookie!" You say, just as he finally emerges from the changing rooms, coworkers teasingly whistling at the sight of you hugging him as a greeting. "Ready?" You ask, and he nods, waving to his coworkers behind him with a shy smile on his face.
"You seem excited." He comments, and you nod.
"I am." You say. "I can't believe we're gonna have the entire week for ourselves!" You say, holding and swaying his hand, something he cant help but watch fondly. "What would you like to do?" You ask, and he thinks for a second, before the familiar fast food sign catches his attention.
"Lets go grab a bite." He says, and you wonder why exactly that place of all things, when he suddenly leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips.
"I'll pay this time." He says.
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masterninjacow · a day ago
bambi eyes ; j.jk
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requested by @kitsutaes (36 + hogwarts au) for my milestone celebration !! go ahead and send me an ask <3
pairing ; gryffindor!photographer!jungkook x seeker!reader (gender-neutral)
summary ; he was supposed to be taking pictures, and you were supposed to be practicing. apparently neither of you could get your jobs done right.
themes ; fluff, hogwarts au, quidditch au
words ; 0.9k
warnings / includes ; mild cursing, jungkook being an awkward loser <3, oc is the best quidditch player in all of hogwarts hell yeah :D
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It was the thrill that really lured you into Quidditch. The delighted shrieks of the watching students as you closed a fist around the snitch during matches, the soaring sensation of pride thundering in your ribcage, the wind’s whistle in your ears as you cut through the air at record speeds.
You were the best at what you did, which was why the school photographer wouldn’t stop pestering you about taking photos for the yearbook. He was a well-known seventh year Gryffindor that went by the name Jungkook, a crimson and amber scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. It was cold this time of year, but that didn’t stop you from practicing.
“I promise I’ll be quiet!” He was a lousy bargainer, but you had to admit that he had a cute face. You only barely shot him half a glance before quickening your pace towards the playing field. The padding of his footsteps following after you had your eyes rolling to the cloudy heavens. “It’s just… you’re the best player in school, if not Hogwarts history!”
A breathy chuckle escaped your lips and billowed into white mist in the crisp air. You paused abruptly, and the photographer stumbled so as to not crash into you, camera swaying around his neck. “No need to butter me up, Jeon. Just don’t bother me while I’m up there with that pretty face of yours, okay? I have to stay concentrated until I’m done.”
Rouge stained his skin a sweet hue at your absentminded compliment, molten hazel irises twinkling with a hint of gaiety. After a moment’s hesitation, he flashed you a pretty smile that you had trouble not replicating. “Will do.”
Once at the Quidditch pitch, you mounted your sleek broom (a new model that you had only recently bought down at Hogsmeade) while Jungkook situated himself amongst the stands. The faint ringing of the camera’s shutter echoed across the pitch as he snapped shots, lost to the wintry breeze as you flew higher and higher up. Cold nipped at your cheeks and landed icy kisses to your eyelids.
Turns out, it wasn’t the noise that you should’ve been worried about.
It was that damned stare of his. You could practically feel it piercing at the back of your neck, burning a hole through your skin. With a frustrated growl, you found yourself messing up a complicated twisting maneuver that you thought you had mastered just a week ago. This was embarrassing. What was going on with you?
With a furtive glance towards Jungkook, you blinked in surprise upon seeing him with his hands braced on the railings, camera left untouched slung over his shoulders. He was just… staring at you! Wasn’t he supposed to be taking pictures?
A particularly strong gale knocked you further back amidst your distracted state, streaming your hair away from your face. Vexation written clear over your features, you swerved your broom away and plummeted downwards. With clear-cut precision, you pulled to a stop just in front of Jungkook, crossing your arms over your chest. His lips were puckered to the side in confusion at your actions.
“Stop staring at me.”
The photographer seemed to splutter for words, gesturing to nothing in particular. “I wasn’t staring!” Then, an eyebrow piqued as he asked, “Why? Do I make you nervous? I can put the camera away if you want一!”
“Jungkook,” you deadpanned. “You’re not even using the damn thing. You’re just… watching me. It’s throwing me off my game.”
A garbled sound lodged itself in his throat. He observed you with befuddlement twisting his handsome features. “But hundreds of students watch you during games and you do amazing!”
“It’s not the same. This time it’s just you and those damned bambi eyes of yours!”
Jungkook, coming from a halfblood family, only vaguely recalled who bambi was. He squinted in recollection, humming in thought. Was being compared to a frail baby deer a good or bad thing?
“So I do make you nervous?” The question was uttered with an air of amusement. The fiercest athlete in Hogwarts was getting the heebie jeebies from Jungkook, an awkward Gryffindor that crunched down a carton of banana milk everyday for breakfast, of all people!
“No! Ugh, yes! I don’t know!” You drifted even closer, to the point where you could see the constellation of stars swimming amongst his widened eyes. Oh, he was pretty pretty. An accusatory finger prodded at his chest, obstructed only by his school robes. “Take your pictures and scram, Jeon. Maybe then we can talk after I’m done with practice. Butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks is to die for this time of year, you know.”
He ogled at you with slightly parted lips. “Did you just ask me out on a date?”
Wincing, you stood up on your broom with not a wobble, dropping onto the stands with a resounding thud. Jungkook watched with rapt fascination as you plucked your prized Thunderbolt out of the air and slung it over your shoulder. “Yeah, I guess I did. You up for it?”
“Yes!” he blurted out far too quickly for his liking. “I mean… yeah, sure, whatever.”
Scoffing light-heartedly, you brushed past him to bound down the stairs. You were going down to let a snitch loose and practice your catching skills.
“Oh, and Jungkook?” you called out just before skipping over the steps.
He looked up at you with a dazed smile glossing his pretty lips. “Yeah?”
“Don’t you dare bring that camera on our date.”
The prettiest of chuckles formed a pale smoke in front of him as he nodded vehemently. “Will do, Y/N.”
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madameright · 21 hours ago
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[Word Count: 235
Reader x Jungkook]
"You're really annoying you know that?"
You glared at Jungkook and if looks could kill--He'd be dead on the spot. All you got in response is that adorable smile with his eyes shining as if he didn't put you in this position.
He shrugged lightly. "You asked me to, sweetie. I was just following orders."
"Since when do you listen to orders?"
Jungkook didn't answer. He just handed over whatever he had behind his back to you. It was a neck pillow. Thank God. After the night you had you needed it.
He held your hair into a makeshift ponytail as you put it on. His hands went to your face to gently caress it after letting your hair go. He gave your cheeks a pinch as you pouted.
He pressed a kiss to an apple of your cheek.
Another kiss to your other cheek.
He kissed your nose.
He squished your cheeks together and kissed your lips. Then kissed all over your face. You, however, were unamused.
"Jeon Jeongguk." You tried to hide your smile at his affection. "I am still mad at you."
"I know, but I also know that you wouldn't change anything." He gave you a cheeky look.
"...That's....irrelevant." You huffed. "I didn't actually expect you to fuck me so hard that my neck hurt."
Jungkook cackled loudly as he threw his body back onto the bed.
this was inspired by a tiktok by Chrissy Chlapecka where she talked about how she got fucked so hard her neck hurt lmao
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cypherhailo · 2 days ago
chapter three
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- series: champ
- pairing: boxer! jungkook x journalist! reader
- word count: 1502
- warnings: none
previous | next | masterlist
a/n: a bit lengthy update to make up for the last few weeks that i've been ia :) enjoy <3
after heading back home from the training facility, jungkook cleaned himself up and fed his dog, driving to a local nightclub he would meet his friends at. getting into the club, he kept his head slightly down, trying to hide his identity so he wouldn’t get recognized, although some people were bound to notice him anyways. after all, he was one of the most famous boxers in his country.
“jungkook!” taehyung greeted his friend with a handshake and a hug, jungkook doing the same with yoongi. jungkook put his hood down, and sat at the table with his friends. “have they talked to you about your next fight?” taehyung asked jungkook, taking a sip from his beer bottle.
jungkook cleared his throat, “no, not yet. it’ll probably be about five to six months. which is fine with me. gives me more time to rest and get into better shape.” he nods, “i know you have yours next week,” he points at taehyung, “what about you, yoongi?”
“in three months,” yoongi replied. “maybe you should start laying off the beer” taehyung jokingly responded, causing jungkook to laugh and yoongi glaring at both of them.
the continuing hors of the night the three friends sat together, participating in conversations, with the loud music booming in their ears. jungkook stood at the bar waiting for his round of drinks. he was in the middle of grabbing his drinks, when a girl tapped on his shoulder.
“hi... can i have your autograph?” she waved a small piece of ripped paper with a pen as jungkook nodded. “of course.” jungkook smiled at her. he was used to having fans come up to him almost everywhere he went. even though it got annoying, he never had the heart to say no.
“okay, who is this to?” he looked up at the young girl with a smile. “ari! my name is ari” she replied as jungkook nodded, writing the message on the piece of paper. passing it back to her, she thanked him multiple times, before scurrying off to the other side of the bar.
he was about to grab his drinks and go back to his friends, when across the bar he spotted a familiar face sitting next to a guy with brown hair.
it was y/n, and you looked beautiful. he assumed you were with your boyfriend, but seemed to be at each other’s throats. he saw you both arguing and you looked close to tears, and no one noticed because of the loud music. his mind told him to go back to his friends and act like he never saw anything, but his heart told him to go over and make sure everything was okay.
jungkook finally grabbed his drinks, and walked back to his friends, who were in the middle of discussing their upcoming fights. “What took you so long?” taehyung looked up at him, as yoongi grabbed his drink.
“just fans.. you know” gesturing to the bar behind him, “i’m gonna go to the restroom.” he said to them, quickly making his way through the busy club. he watched as you rushed outside, and the guy you were with walking over to the bar, standing next to and talking with a different girl.
he followed you outside, watching as you stood with your phone to your ear, noticing a few tears running down your cheeks. he slowly walked up to you, tapping your shoulder.
“what?” assuming it was your boyfriend, you replied without looking up, hanging up on the taxi you were trying to call. “is everything okay?” you immediately recognized that voice. jungkook. looking up from your phone, he stood next to you, looking at you with so much concern. “oh, i’m..”
“jungkook... jeon jungkook.” a middle aged man interrupted you, tapping jungkook in the shoulder, “i’m a big fan, can i get a picture?” he asked jungkook, just as he saw you slightly roll your eyes and turn back around.
“maybe later, i’m kind of in the middle of something,” jungkook nodded at the man, “stick around, i’ll find you later.” the man nodded, “sorry for interrupting,” he nodded his head and walked back into the club.
you faced jungkook again, “are you really going to find him later?” you looked up at him.
“he’ll probably get so drunk, and forget he even met me.” jungkook replied, watching you smile in response. he enjoyed watching you smile, it made you look so beautiful.
“well,” you shook your head, “how can i help you?” apart of you couldn’t help but wonder what a man like him, so well known and talented, was even bothering with you. “just wanted to make sure you were okay. i saw what happened with that guy.” jungkook replied as you chuckled.
“you were watching me?” you folded your arms. the dress you were wearing clinged onto your body, contrasting with your soft beautiful skin. jungkook couldn’t lie, he would love to run his hands up and down your body.
“well, i noticed you… and he looked like he was giving you a hard time.” he admitted and you nodded. “Yeah, well he definitely is hard work.” you scoffed, “he told me we were going out to a nice restaurant, and i didnt find out we were coming here until we got in the taxi.” jungkook nodded, “now, i just want to go home.” you told him, hugging your arms.
“i can call you a taxi, it’ll be here in a few minutes.” jungkook began taking his phone out. “i don’t need your services, i can wait for you.” you told him.
“okay,” jungkook put his phone back in his pocket, “then i’ll wait with you” noticing the small smile across your face. you told him he didn’t have to, but jungkook insisted. he seemed so much more relaxed than when you were interviewing him. he was kind and made you feel safe.
“also, i wanted to say thank you… for not twisting my words in the interview.” jungkook said as you shook your head. “yeah, not all of us do that. i wish the headline was different, but i’m not in charge of that.” you chuckled, “but, i was grateful that you let me into your home, and the absolute last thing i wanted to do was twist your words.” you smiled at him, “didn’t want you to get all up in my face.” you joked as jungkook turned to face you.
“are you used to that? having someone yelling at you like that?” jungkook asked her, recalling the ugly argument he saw you in, you shook your head. “don’t be so ridiculous, jungkook” you looked away from him. “i’ll tell you what, y/n-” jungkook took your purse, you raised your eyebrows at him, watching as he took your phone out, and handed it to you. once you put in your passcode, he took it from you and put his phone number in your contacts, and he did the same on his phone.
“i think you know that i’m in a relationship so… i don’t want your number.” you told him, as he put your phone back in your purse, and handed it to you. “i know,” jungkook nodded, “just keep it. if anyone gives you trouble or you need anything, just call me.” you laughed, “and if you're… oh, i don’t know… in the middle of a meeting?” you looked up at him, “a busy man like you wont have time to check on me.” jungkook looked at you, “i’ll make time for you>”
you could tell jungkook hid a piece of himself away when his fiancé passed away, but that piece of him was dying to come out. a man like him, so mesmerizing, shouldn't have to hide any part of himself.
“here’s a cab, y/n.” you broke eye contact, as jungkook walked over to the cab and opened the door for you. “thank you, jungkook.” you smiled at him, sliding into the back seat of the cab. you watched him as he closed the door, and stood back.
jungkook watched as you got settled into the cab. the more he saw you, or thought of you, the more interested he got. he had to move on, and he wanted to, but no one had appealed to him like you did. and he despised the idea of your current boyfriend mistreating you. he would take care of you. he would take care of you, your body, your soul.
but it was complicated. you were in a relationship, and the last thing he wanted was the media finding out he was chasing after a woman in a relationship. getting you seems impossible at the moment, but having you as a friend and checking up on you wasn't.
after giving the taxi driver your address, he pulls the taxi away from the curb and onto the street to take you home from the night that ended better than you had expected, all thanks to him.
red means tumblr won't let me tag you :(
[send ask or reply to post to be added to taglist!]
taglist: @gukkmoans @sugainpinksweater @fangirl125reader @lvstcd @j-m12344 @fan-ati--c @axurio @poguesbau @yoonabeo @mwitsmejk @zae007live @stanny-uwu @rikaxyu
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jeonygi · 2 days ago
avalanche ; (3)
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pairing ; jeon jungkook x female reader (ft. minor side pairings)
summary ; after you disappeared for five years, an unexpected reunion with jungkook threatens your chances of freedom. but when you untangle the webs of the life you had without him, you start to realize that nothing ever happens by chance and you are but a pawn in someone else’s sick game.
warnings ; mature content (18+), cursing, minor character deaths, kidnapping, murder, underground / illegal dealings, sex work (tags are for the whole fic)
note ; i edited the verb tenses in the first 2 published parts by the time i posted this new chapter. for old readers, sorry for the inconsistency!
series index
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“He knows!”
“Who knows?” Jungkook asks as you walk side by side in the hallway. “What does he know?”
“Bang-seonsaengnim!” you reply, waving your hands around and almost hitting him in the face with your less than stellar vision. “He knows I lied about paying the fee for the field trip!”
“But yesterday, you told me you already paid,” he muses. He still doesn’t look at you, but you know he’s listening despite being a bit preoccupied with fixing your thick-rimmed glasses. You’re currently glasses-less since he’s busy taping the broken bridge of your frame for you. Hence, your poor eyesight.
“I negotiated with Jimin. I only paid one-fourth,” you whine. Good thing the student council treasurer is friends with Jungkook, and by extension, with you. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been able to ask such a big favor. “We agreed I’ll pay the rest of the money on the day we’re set to leave.”
“So? You still have about two weeks to go. You’ll be fine! To be honest, I don’t see what the problem is.”
You sigh. Of course, he doesn’t.
Despite being your best friend since the first day you transferred, Jungkook is so much different from you. The entire school is worlds different from you, really. But you shouldn’t expect anything else when you get accepted into a prestigious private high school under a full scholarship program.
Unfortunately for you, the full scholarship program doesn’t include textbook fees, uniform allowances, extra-curricular fees, and most of all… field trips.
“That’s easy for you to say, Jungkook,” you say patiently. “Two weeks with my parents’ income is barely enough to cover our living expenses. Not to mention, I just paid the membership dues for my school club last week. Plus, my brother just got his tooth removed and we still haven’t paid the dentist.”
He looks at you, waiting expectantly. Almost as if you never had this same conversation before.
Oftentimes, Jungkook seems to forget that you belong to a lower-middle class family, and that unlike his own childhood, you didn’t grow up with a silver spoon and everything you needed at your beck and call. Your parents had to struggle to make ends meet for you and your younger brother, and you always had to budget before spending any money.
You don’t fault him for it though, not when he manages to remain kind and humble through all his wealth and luxuries. And you also aren’t ignorant enough to believe he is too rich to have problems of his own. So you do what you always do when you two have these kinds of conversations — you spell it out for him.
“I can’t come up with enough money in two weeks, Jungkook.”
He sighs, pocketing his roll of tape and  positioning your newly-fixed glasses gently on your face before his hands rest on your shoulders. He opens his mouth to say something but one of the classroom doors opens and an unmistakable head of honey-blond hair emerges.
Jungkook shuts his mouth, moving to the side since both of you ended up standing in the middle of the hallways in the midst of your discussion. You follow suit, letting Kim Taehyung pass between the two of you, smiling at him as he does so.
He doesn’t acknowledge you.
To be fair, he doesn’t acknowledge Jungkook, either. But then, Jungkook wasn’t the one who tutored him for a while when he first transferred to this high school.
“Rude,” your best friend huffs just as Taehyung pushes the bridge of his thick black glasses up his nose, turns the corner, and disappears from sight.
“Shhh,” you shush him, grabbing his hand and dragging him to continue your walk. “Maybe he’s just shy.”
“Please! I heard he was a social butterfly in his old school. He probably thinks we’re all beneath him now that he’s apparently a Kim. Don’t you remember?”
Of course you remember. Kim Taehyung transferred here just a few short months after you did. Why the teachers thought you, a student who had literally just adjusted to the new syllabus, would be a fit tutor to catch him up on the curriculum was beyond you, but there you were.
His first couple of weeks went by with both of you spending lunch breaks and free periods together to go over the academic materials, much to Jungkook’s dismay. That whole time, Taehyung only ever spoke to you whenever it was school-related, and never spoke to you again after the tutoring arrangement was no longer deemed necessary by the teachers.
He’s a quiet guy, and from what you observe, he doesn’t have any friends. You later realize he’s probably just trying to be invisible but that seems to be impossible. News of his parentage and middle-class-boy-turned-bastard-heir-of-cybersecurity-empire story is still hot and fresh gossip in everyone’s minds, and rumors of his half brother Kim Seokjin temporarily taking charge due to his father’s newly diagnosed illness is only adding fuel to the fire.
“Of course, I remember,” you reply. “But he’s actually nice, you know. Quiet, but nice.”
“Yeah? Then why didn’t he at least acknowledge you?”
“He didn’t see me! Or he’s anti-social! I don’t know, Jungkook, but I do know that it’s none of our business.”
“Okay, okay, jeez,” Jungkook sighs, lacing your fingers together as the two of you finally reach the school gates. “Anyways, as I was saying…”
You look up at him.
He continues, “...I always tell you this and you always refuse, but I think you should agree this time…”
“What is it, Kook?” You urge him.
He looks you square in the eye and says his next words all in one breath. “You should let me pay for your field trip fee. And before you say anything, I’m not doing this because I pity you. And, yes, I know our friendship is not a charity case, blah blah. I already know all of that and I still want to do this for you because you’re my best friend in the whole world, and I’ll talk to Jimin about it as soon as possible so no take backs! And, oh! Would you look at that, is that my driver? It is! Gotta go, see you tomorrow! Bye, Violet!”
He gives your temple an affectionate peck before making a run for it.
“How many times do I have to tell you, my name is not Vi—”
Wait a minute. Did he just say he’ll pay the…?
It’s a pity you only initially grasped the last part of what he said. Smiling cheekily, he jumps into his fancy family car that had pulled up next to where you are standing without you noticing, before you could even comprehend the meat of all that he said.
“Stop wearing those glasses, then.” He winks as he straps himself in the backseat. “They’re obnoxiously violet.”
By the time the damned car is already a few streets away, your phone suddenly dings with a new message from Jimin saying your payment for the field trip is already complete and processed.
You don’t know if you should laugh or cry, so you do what any rational person would do.
You do both.
“My glasses are purple, Jeon Jungkook,” you mumble into thin air. “Damn you.”
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opaljm · 21 days ago
i. legend of the lamp (m) – jjk
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➺ pairing: genie!jungkook x female reader
➺ genres/tropes: fluff; humor; smut; fantasy au; magic au; strangers to lovers
➺ warning/content tags: 18+; explicit sexual content: female masturbation (solo shower time activities, pro anal enthusiast y/n she wants it SOO bad but is very deep in denial); underwater sexual activities plz do not attempt at home you might drown (kissing, fingering, multiple orgasms, boob kink jeon makes his debut, he likes to bite and make it hurt but he also likes to kiss it better); sex in public (jungkook is an exhibitionist freak, y/n and jungkook give the ‘mile high’ club a new meaning, very mild food play, mean cocky jungkook shows up as expected, jjk's dirty talk is UNMATCHED, gross nasty jeon with the spit/licking kink, overstimulation, orgasm denial, the slightest bit of breath play/choking kink, impregnation kink is mentioned, possessive attention whore jungkook); sloppy cunnilingus with too much teeth tbh, finger fucking, there’s almost fisting but they both wimped out— there's always next time tho ;), forced orgasms, big dick hung like a fucking stallion jeon jungkook, unprotected sex but its fine cuz koo is a genie with fetus deletus powers, spanking, soft dom jk who degrades y/n like a CHAMP if it were a contest he would be winning a gold medal for it, jungkook likes to punish y/n until she can’t even think straight, standing up sex courtesy of strength demon jeon, praise thirsty competitive af constantly wanting validation jungkook, they both have a size kink let’s be real, reader has a strength kink throughout this entire fic she just wants to be manhandled and thrown around like she’s jungkook’s pretty sex doll, soft passionate sex, creampie, lovely aftercare from our cleaning fairy koo
➺ word count: 23k semi-edited but im too tired to actually do it properly :(
➺ summary: Jungkook has been serving his time as a genie for the last 2000 years, unfortunately stuck in a lamp for the last 200 years before he is woken from his slumber by a beautiful woman who somehow activates his lamp while making a wish that ends up letting him out. After eons of having to bend over backwards to make the desires of evil individuals from power hungry dictators to spoiled princesses come into fruition, he’s updated his contract to be more choosy over who the lamp allows to be his master. It comes to his great surprise that this woman was able to make the lamp work and that she only yearns to be loved and no longer be lonely. But all of the wishes he grants now have time constraints, another caveat he added to the contract, and he wonders what life would be like if he had never made that stupid rule. Because, as the week progresses, he finds himself falling deeper and deeper into her spell, pondering what it would be like if he never had to stop playing the role of her man. 
➺ author’s note: Sorry for disappearing after announcing a fic, I had a health scare which kind of had the domino effect of making me have a really shitty three weeks regarding my education and future and pulling me into a depressive episode (which yea turns out can be firmly blamed on the medication I've been taking because its a possible side effect). It's been a mess and a half but, I'm here, the fic's here (or half of it anyways). I hope you all enjoy it and leave some love 💕 Also, if I had known that all of that shit would’ve happened, I would’ve posted part one a lot longer ago, since you all know I had finished writing it a while back. I just kept holding out hope that I would be able to finish the entire fic in time but life got in the way of that. I hope that y’all don’t hold that against me too much! Part two will drop after Jimin’s birthday fic drop so I don’t fuck up that deadline as well! I’m under a lot of pressure as one of the hosts of his birthday collaboration. Please, please, please leave feedback for this story. Since it’s a two shot, your feedback is absolutely critical in helping my self-esteem about the direction of the story and flowing my creative juices for writing part two! 
This fic is a part of Namkook’s Moonrise Masquerade! Banner made by @kimtaehyunq​. Beta-read by @jimilter​ (miss girl helped out with the content warnings too we love her!), @ressjeon​, and @amourtae​ the lovely angels❣️
↳ second/final part | main masterlist
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Today has just absolutely not been your day. 
It seems like things went off to a rough start from right when your morning began. You woke up late because your alarm clock hadn’t gone off, and in your hurry to leave for work this morning, you picked out your outfit for the day half asleep as you attempted to brush your teeth and comb through the unruly mess that was your bedheaded locks of hair. When you spit out that white cloud of mint flavored foam, it got on your peach colored lavallière top, staining the silk pussycat bow. 
You ended up wearing a too tight black with gray pinstripes pencil skirt you kept meaning to donate to Goodwill, but never quite got around to it, and a silky white blouse that you had loved when you thrifted but then later had realized that the abstract black lines that made up its designs were not flowers like you initially had thought but were rather depictions of nude female silhouettes. The shirt is lovely; it’s certainly a statement piece and one that would look great on you on most occasions and would make for a darling ‘outfit of the day’ post on Instagram, however it is not exactly workplace appropriate attire for the public university where you work as an admissions counselor. 
But even with that little kerfuffle, you had not been too stressed early on in the day. Oh, if only you knew how badly the rest of the day would continue to be. As you went out the door, you smartly thought of snatching your black peacoat off the coat hook in the entryway, which could be used to cover up the sexually deviant positions the ladies on your shirt were contorted into. You ended up needing it too, after a mishap at the coffee shop in the student union left you with dark coffee dripping down your torso and making your shirt transparent as it clung to you with the wet sugariness of the shaken espresso seeped with vanilla syrup. 
Things continued to go badly during your appointment with an incoming freshman and her parents who wanted to pull her out of the university because of the trouble she had gotten into over the summer after graduating from high school. Your heart goes out to the girl after remembering how badly that conversation had gone and how despite your best attempts, neither you nor she could sway her parents’ made up minds. You weren’t even able to convince them to change her enrollment to an off-campus one where she could commute from her parents house, whereas she was previously an on-campus student with a room in the freshmen dorms. They wanted her to pay for her actions by going to community college and getting a part time job.
Making matters worse, you had almost thrown up the 6-inch Subway tuna melt you had gotten and now as you walk home, in your pinching heels, too tight skirt, and your peacoat hiding your stained shirt, to your apartment just two miles away on the far end of the glittering and bustling university village that was adjacent to one of the largest and most vibrant cities in the country, it starts to drizzle.
Normally, you do not mind the rain. Of course, your previous attitude of the rain was based on the fact that you did not have too many experiences of being wet like a drowning rat, caught in the middle of the storm without an umbrella or any sort of protection while wearing shoes that were not that slip resistant. 
You sigh as you continue onwards, wondering if maybe you should duck into the Target that you are passing to buy an umbrella. But you already know that Target will be out of stock, like it always is out of stock during unexpected bouts of rain because the students buy out the umbrellas, even going so far as to making the overpriced ones in the student store, that are in the school colors and have the school’s mascot imprinted on them bold and center, out of stock. 
When you finally do get home, you leave your wet shoes on the mat you have just inside the entrance, toeing them off and exchanging them for your fuzzy pink bunny slippers that are not only soft and dry but a huge and warm comfort to your freezing feet. You scamper your way to the opposite side of the apartment, sliding the glass doors that lead to the balcony open, and you hang your coat off of the backs of one of your iron outdoor chairs for it to dry, or at least keep it from dripping all over your apartment. 
You debate whether you should take your clothes off on the balcony too. You’re not afraid of university students seeing you; your apartment is out of most of their price ranges except for the richest of them all, but even knowing that, you don’t have a lot of fear since half of your balcony is covered in thin mesh privacy netting. The half of your wraparound balcony that is exposed to the elements is the part of it that you can access from your bedroom’s sliding doors as well. Not wasting another second, you quickly shed the offending articles of clothing off, just standing there in your fuzzy slippers and a matching black pair of Sabrina panties and brassiere from Honey Birdette. You regret your decision instantly as the transparent tulle and ribbons of lace do nothing to protect you from the blasts of wind causing the rain to drift your way but you fight through it. After letting those clothes hang to dry as well, you make your way back in, bypassing the living room to head straight for the shower. 
Your black underwear set clings to your body, you notice when you catch a glimpse of yourself of the giant mirror that takes over half the wall over your dual sink vanity. You see a figure with hardened plum colored nipples, covered in goosebumps, staring back at you. Her eyes widen from her surprise at how her body quivers even indoors and her hair is drying in messy curly tendrils around her ears. You look almost unrecognizable.
Flittering around the modern minimalistic styled bathroom, you busy yourself turning on the shower and waiting for the water to turn warm, as it always takes the pipes a moment to heat up. In the interim, you grab two fuzzy towels, one for your hair and one for your body, to throw over the glass partition of the shower since there are no conveniently placed towel racks. You also grab your fancy pink “cloud” face wash from the sink, which honestly does too little for its steep price point, in your opinion, and your A Thousand Wishes body cream from Bath & Body Works, that you had stocked up on during the summer semi-annual sale. 
By now, the water is finally hot enough and starting to steam up your bathroom a bit. You slide off your bra and step out of your panties before flinging them into the laundry hamper. Walking into the shower stall is a welcome respite after your long day. For a moment, you just stand there motionless, letting your eyes flutter shut as the showerhead jets water over you, soaking your hair completely and soothing your worn out exhausted muscles. You could pass out from comfort in the shower and that would be horrible but oh you understand now why some people are able to fall asleep in their baths. 
Your shampoo and conditioner bottles are the pump kind so you don’t need to put in too much effort to squeeze out the peony and amaretto scented ambery gold colored liquid into your cupped palm. Today is going to be a simple shower; you’re too drained to go into your whole hair routine with its scalp scrubs, serums, and hair masks, in addition to the usual shampooing and conditioning you do. When it's finally worked into your hair, making it foamy from how well you scrubbed it in, you let the shower wash your hands clean and let the suds disperse. 
Your shower gel is A Thousand Wishes scented too; you’re not the type to mix scents and give yourself a migraine when you can avoid it. Abandoning the loofah, you decide to run your soapy hands over your body for a quick clean. When your hands skim over your breasts and your long acrylic nude ombre nails catch on a nipple, instantly turning the already hard nub into a rock solid bullet, you stifle a surprised moan. Your mind whirls as you recover from the sensation. 
Even as fatigue clouds your mind, the world seems to get closer as your senses become hyperaware. Suddenly you can feel the cool stone underneath your feet that much more as your toes curl in pleasure from how it contrasts wonderfully with the warm water cascading over you. As your hands wander down your body, molding your palms against every curve and divot, the shower gel and water provides a nice lubrication, making it easy for you to slide your fingers over your body. You have to press harder to make your touches rougher, and the delicious friction that comes from those more frantic brushes make your voice catch in the back of your throat before it crawls its way up in the form of a delicious keen.
Oh, what you would do to have a gorgeous male manhandle you right now. You like it rough; you like a little bit of force that reminds you of the strength behind his muscles that you know he would never use on you but the idea that he could make your strength and size kinks come alive. Your hand now transverses over to your throat and you wrap your slim fingers around it, your long nails lightly scraping against the delicate flesh, relishing in the hold but sighing in frustration that your small weak hands can’t apply the pressure that you actually want. 
You’re single because the males you keep finding have no idea how to treat a woman in a way that makes her feel safe even when she wants to be utterly destroyed. A lot of it is based on trust and respect. The shitheads you meet? You wouldn’t even trust them to walk you home at night without angling for a kiss you don’t want to give. 
Abandoning the hand from your throat, you instead press your front side against the marble walls of the shower, pretending that it’s your lover who’s got you clinging to the damp stone and that his hands are dipping over your hips before going lower, wrapping themselves around your thighs in a way that has his thumbs pressing into the clefts of your asscheeks as he spreads them apart and the water from the shower flows into the puckering hole that is revealed. You hate the concept of anal sex but as one of your hands busy themselves in the front, plucking at your clit and fluttering across your folds as you tease yourself to the brink without any insertion, the other hand is working on your tight asshole, your thumb pressing onto it, flirting by only letting the tip of your thumb in before pulling away.
What you would do to have a big heavy cock stroke your ass, painting it with its precum, taunting the sensitive hole hidden between by pressing against it but not entering. Or for you to be on your tiptoes with your legs parted so that his cock could slide underneath, thrusting against the petaled furls of your pussy until he plunged into it from behind while you’re trapped between his warm slick body, his hard abdominal muscles and chest pressing against your back, and the cool marble, your nipples turning into stiffened peaks that are begging to be touched but finding no purchase against the slippery walls. It would feel almost claustrophobic, like you can’t move due to his delicious weight and like the only part of you that could move was your pussy, its walls clenching around him and clinging to him every time he slammed into you. 
With three fingers inside you, you can almost pretend that it’s real. Though, you know that at any moment you can move away since there's nothing actually trapping you into the position that you are in. You can’t finish though, your mind is your own mental prison, too cynical and realistic for its own good. You find yourself reaching up for the removable shower head and pulling it down. Your hand frantically clicks on the controls, increasing the water pressure. You debate if you want to do this standing up but you know that you will lose the feeling in your legs the second your explosive orgasm hits after being edged for so long. Thus, you slide down to a sitting position in your shower, your back against the wall, your legs folded up and spread apart as you position the showerhead right at your cunt, knowing that your clit will be getting the maximum pressure possible. 
You emerge from your shower ten minutes later with your legs feeling so jelly-like you have to grip at the walls to make it back to the sink to finish up your skincare routine and return the products that you had taken with you into the shower back to their original homes. 
When you feel squeaky clean and refreshed, bundled up in your favorite pajamas, a beige plaid set you had gotten as a white elephant present so they are very roomy and swamp your body, you finally deal with your wet work clothes properly and put them for a cycle in the dryer. You’ll likely have to deal with your Chinese Laundry peep toe pumps as well so that the leather doesn’t dry weirdly and make them crack in places but, that’s a concern for you in the future.
With a towel wrapped high around your head in a way that might end up giving you a receding hairline, if you don’t stop using that method to dry your hair soon, you step back into the main part of your apartment. Your eyes quickly go to the coffee table where it appears that your best friend had dropped something off while you were away at work.
There’s a bouquet of pink and white peonies that you immediately fix up in a vase with the proper amount of water, a square box covered in black matte wrapping paper with art deco style gold designs embedded into it, and lastly, a wine bottle in a gorgeous black and gold gift bag that compliments the wrapping on the box and has a matching envelope pinned to it. Before you sit back down on the plush comfort of your oat colored cloud sofa, you rip the envelope off from how it’s been stapled to the gift bag so that you can tear open the flap and get to the card inside. Reclining back, you narrow your eyes to read, having forgotten to grab your glasses from your bedroom dresser and having already taken off your contacts for the day:
Happy Birthday my darling Y/N! I hope that your 25th birthday is the most beautiful one to come so far! Wishing you nothing but blessings and good fortune on this beautiful day! Your present this year is one that surprised me as well but when I saw it, I was drawn to it instantly and the thought that it might be perfect for you abruptly flooded my mind! Can’t wait to hear your opinion on it!
Love, Safi
P.S. Don’t waste this wine by keeping it for a better day! Live in the now by cracking it open today and enjoying a birthday toast because today is just as important as whatever future occasion you’re trying to justify would be a better opportunity to enjoy the wine! (save the Sephora gift card for a rainy day though lol)
You laugh self-indulgently and look back inside the envelope where there is indeed a black $100 Sephora gift card before putting them all aside. You suppose you should listen to Safi’s advice even though today has not been a great birthday by any stretch of the words since it will be nice for you to unwind with a glass of wine. Pulling the bottle out you can see that it is a bottle of rosé, Gerard Bertrand Cote des Rosé to be precise, and the glassware is magnificent with the bottom of the bottle being designed in the shape of a rose with all its petals. 
The box lies unopened for now even if it’s your main present. You have too much of a one track mind and you immediately want to crack open the alcohol to let loose and make yourself forget about your day for just a little bit. You head for the kitchen cabinets and reach for the first drinking vessel you can grab, not too picky when it’s almost 11pm and you have to wake up at 6 in the morning. Perhaps Safi didn’t want you to drink the alcohol out of a coffee mug, in your most comfy sleepwear and a towel wrapped around your head, but it’s the best you can do at the moment. 
You nestle the bottle in the crook of your right arm, holding the mug in the same hand while grabbing the box with your left and taking all three objects out with you to the balcony. It takes you a little finagling to manage opening the sliding door but you soon make your way out where a light breeze brushes against your body comfortingly. Placing everything on the table you have outside, you head back in once more to grab your corkscrew from where it was misplaced in the junk drawer.
It’s not long before you’re back outside, sitting down and admiring the rainfall, which you are now able to appreciate since you are no longer soaking in it. It’s more of a light drizzle now and most of the clouds have dissipated, leaving only the thinnest types of stratus and stratocumulus clouds. In the heart of the city it’s impossible to make out any stars in the night sky due to the pollution and lights but you enjoy looking at the moon as you sip from your mug and let the rosé, which somehow managed to stay chilly all this time, slide down your throat. 
Your attention finally goes to the box and you carefully unwrap it, though you know that it will be unlikely that you will reuse the wrapping paper unless you take up scrapbooking again. Inside is a simple black colored cardboard gift box, and once you remove the top, you find yourself looking at a gorgeous antique looking hanji lamp though you know better than to think that Safi dropped money on an authentic Silla era lantern. You can’t even begin to imagine how much that would cost. Even still, as you turn over the rectangular structure in your hands, you find yourself musing that you would never dare to light the magnificent ornament. It was going to remain a purely decorative piece whose design and history you would appreciate from its place on one of your shelves. 
You find yourself holding it up to your face to get a closer look at all four paper sides of the wooden structure, squinting to make out the images painted on them though it’s difficult because you had forgotten to turn on your string lights and the moon is only a crescent, not providing much of a glow, so you are practically bathed in darkness. 
You scrunch up your forehead thinking of how nice it would be if you had better lighting, No sooner does the thought come across your mind, do you find yourself suddenly bathed in a luminous glow as a shooting star hurls across the inky black sky, painting it with a white blue streak of light. You have never in all of your years seen a shooting star flying across the sky so close to you and you immediately snap your eyes closed. You were never one to waste your time on wishes but maybe in between it being 11:11pm, the shooting star, and the fact that you have not made a birthday wish yet, one of them will work to make your desire come to fruition. It can’t hurt to try right? Maybe finally your deepest yearnings will come to life. 
Little do you realize, that as you make your wish, a little light is cast from the inside of the hanji lamp, warming it up with a small soft candle glow before it flickers out at the end of your wish. When you finally open your eyes and look down, of course you see nothing. That hope you had quickly vanishes as your cynicism returns and you find yourself painfully laughing in a self-flagellating way. You down the last of the wine in the mug and stand up, picking up all your things and getting ready for bed. 
Little do you know, you’ve just wildly changed the course of your life.
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While you’re asleep, a slow cloud of golden shimmery smoke begins to seep out from the lamp you placed on your dresser before sinking into bed and burrowing yourself under a mountain of blankets. 
A man emerges when the gold mist seems to have finally fully trickled out, building himself up from the cloud, becoming humanoid and corporeal. He is bare from the chest up, a golden chain around his hips marking the thing that holds him captive to the lamp and trapped under its control. His lower half is wearing loose baji brown trousers, the lower half of a hanbok that is the fashion of the Silla dynasty. It’s embroidered jeogori that’s a shiny silky white with gold embroidery is somewhere back in the lantern but he’s too lazy to get it now. Those are the clothes that he was entrapped in, so those are the clothes he is stuck in whenever he is kept inside the lamp. No one could blame him for whiling away his time in the vessel by choosing to slumber instead of waiting for himself to be let out again. 
Besides, as his gaze flickers over your modern style bedroom and he makes out a pile of clothing on top of a chair, he distinctly gets the feeling that he is no longer in the Joseon era, which was the last time he had been let out. Jungkook had gotten trapped in the lamp and turned into a genie when he was about 24, on the eve of his 25th birthday around 2,000 years ago, and has been paying for his mistake and the punishment that followed it ever since. In between that time and now though, he’s been let out of the lantern sporadically, over the centuries, every time it fell into the hands of someone who understood its power and wanted to make use of his abilities. 
But right now, his mistress is asleep and he is free, so he finds himself leaving the apartment, in search of what fashion and culture must be like in this weird modern time. He can’t escape her permanently, not when she has one wish left and his lamp in her possession, but he is free to wander while she’s not using him. It’s a little harder to define when and when she isn’t using him because of her second wish but since she’s unconscious right now it’s obvious that she cannot be requiring his presence currently. 
With nary but a thought, he’s suddenly on the streets in front of her apartment. He has no idea where he is; could this truly be Korea? Just because it’s past midnight doesn’t mean that the city is any less alive. He almost gets run over by a car, it’s impossible for him to get hurt given what he is, but his presence, with his feet over the line that separates the two lanes, spooks a driver who yells out a barrage of hateful language before manueving his gray SUV and driving around Jungkook’s body. Some of the comments are about a shirtless madman wandering the roads which makes Jungkook wince and even more impatient to get a change of clothes. They were not spoken in Korean which he won’t realize until later since he is gifted with omnilingual abilities that make him able to understand any and every language that exists or comes into being.
He wanders all the way to the shopping district where all the words are definitely not in Korean but using his mythical powers he’s readily able to translate them, understanding every language instantaneously. Whatever clothes he sees on the mannequins that he likes, he imagines them on himself and thus builds an entire wardrobe this way. His powers of manifestation come in handy giving him clothes that are perfectly tailored to fit his muscular frame which is paired with not only bulging biceps, broad shoulders, and thick thighs but a narrow waist too. He vastly prefers this power to his ability to make anything he wants be in his possession. Why not just make his own more perfect version than the store sizes of a men’s medium and large? Those cookie cutter sizes only account for his muscles but hide the rest of his body away under their expansive lengths of fabric. 
After his clothing shopping spree he sends all his creations back to his mistress’s home with a snap of his fingers and then begins his prowl for food. Genies don’t need sustenance and they can’t gain weight, though they can change their appearances if they wanted, but Jungkook loved food from his time as a human and he regularly uses his powers to let himself enjoy its taste, when he is out of his lamp, even though he can never make himself feel full.
His wanderings take him to a Korean restaurant that is open until dawn, and since food is the one thing he hates creating, he instead magicks himself the currency of this country, in this day and age, and bows to the ajumma who is working inside the establishment. He gets a table for one and orders a giant set of tteokbokki that has the maximum amount of heat allowed along with extra fish cakes and cheese, as well as three different kinds of Korean fried chicken: honey garlic, sweet and spicy, and barbeque, which are all flavors he has never heard of before, and finishes off with a clay pot of kimchi soondubu jiggae, a kimchi soft tofu stew. He only buys one beer knowing that the ajumma would get concerned over his tolerance if he had a dozen glasses.
When he’s done with all the food, he finds himself wistfully pining for the time when he was human and would have been truly able to not only enjoy but also appreciate this bountiful feast. After all, he had been born into a family of laborers, it’s why he had been able to grow so strong through hard manual work.
He finally returns to the apartment, but his work is not over. Unlike his mistress who can sleep blissfully having no idea what she had just done, Jungkook has long hours ahead of him to make her wish come to life in a way that seems believable and that she readily buys into by the time she wakes up. It’s not the hardest desire or demand he has ever had to complete but it will use a lot of his power, more than he’s used lately. And though he’s got an unexpendable amount of magic, he’s out of practice.
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When you rouse the next morning, you can instantly tell that something is different and it immediately makes your hackles rise up. It’s more than just the smell of fried eggs, apple sausages, and maple syrup permeating the air of the apartment, making its way from the kitchen into the bedroom, though you know that you live alone and have no one to cook you such an amazing spread to wake up to. 
The air feels different, like the energy of the universe had shifted somehow. None of that makes any sense and yet somehow it also does. You don’t know what you mean when you think that but there is no other way that you can put this sense of unease into words. When you open your eyes and look across the room you see a male lounging against the wall wearing a street style look with black and gray FILA joggers and windbreaker covering the length of his long modelesque body; there’s a black bucket hat hiding his blond locks. 
You let out a loud scream immediately, terrified out of your wits, and instantly pull your comforter up to your chin even if you had gone to sleep in a pair of pajamas that covered you as though you were a nun. The male narrows his eyes at the shrill sound but the look is quickly shuttered away when a small pleasant smile takes over his face instead. 
He walks closer to you and murmurs, his doe eyes shining with the twinkle of stars from a million galaxies, “Are you okay, jagiya? I’m sorry for surprising you with breakfast this morning but I missed you. I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday since I didn’t get the chance yesterday.”
“WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!” you yelp, tightening your comforter even closer around your body, wrapping yourself up like a human burrito.
“Your lover, Jeon Jungkook,” the male calmly states, his eyes peering at you, not losing their shine as he looks at you like you had grown another head and are the crazy one amongst the two of you.
“I don’t have a lover named Jeon Jungkook,” you contradict, narrowing your eyes into slits full of suspicion. And if you did, you didn’t think you would call him your lover. Perhaps, your man, your boyfriend, or even your fwb though you weren’t really the type to dabble in such meaningless romps of pleasure, but not lover.
“Are you sure about that,” he silkily purrs, using his tattoo adorned hand to gesture to your gallery wall. 
Your eyes follow its path and you’re horrified to see the most adorable couple pictures, most of which appear to have been professionally photographed though some are cutely caught candids, of you and this ‘Jungkook’ together, staring into each other’s eyes lovingly while holding each other in an embrace that speaks volumes about passion and affection. 
“Would you like to check your phone,” suggests the male as well, his blond locks playing peekaboo with his bucket hat as his head turns towards your nightstand and he nods at the iPhone that had been charging on top of it. 
You instantly grab the device, unplugging it from the white charging cord and clutching it possessively to your chest before you finally work up the nerve to see what exactly he means. You swipe down to look at your lockscreen and it’s a live photo of Jungkook squishing his face into the side of your’s, rubbing the tip of his nose into the apple of your cheek softly. Mortified, you use facial recognition to gain further access into your phone and what you see leaves you even more bewildered. Your home screen is the most aesthetic that you’ve seen it: organized by using the IOS 15 feature. It’s blush pink and cream and the background image is a digitally manipulated picture of you and Jungkook looking into the bay from your perches on a bridge at the bottom of the image as the sky melts into a creamy pink color that's been altered to match the theme of your phone. 
At this point, you’re nervously holding onto your disbelief, so it’s with trepidation that you go into your camera roll to find hundreds upon hundreds of photos of Jungkook in an assortment of scenarios, from cute date night pics with you to dozens almost identical selfies where he’s trying out a variety of facial expressions from the same angle and in the same outfits to then even the embarrassing kinds that look like you took them on the down low when you thought he wasn’t looking. None of this makes any sense. But he looks so cute and kissable. You almost want to cry helplessly at the insanity of this all. What if he was your boyfriend? Life would be so much easier then.
You leap out of bed to go out to the front of the apartment and it’s even more confusing because there’s half a dozen pairs of chunky sneakers and boots with spiked soles that look like fashionable and weaponized soccer cleats on the shoe rack that’s by the front door— all belonging to designer brands and looking slightly threatening. It is clear that those shoes belong to a male, most likely this male, and they are all neatly organized to one side while your shoes, the shoes that you remember, are off to the other end. 
“This makes no sense,” you whine, rubbing your forehead frantically. Is this what hyperrealistic nightmares feel like? It seems as though you’ve been transported to the Twilight Zone in your opinion, and you just want to desperately get out.
“Would you like to call your mother and ask her about me?” Jungkook, his voice a smooth cadence as he unhelpfully directs the suggestion to your back. He had evidently followed you out back here. 
“Your mother? We FaceTime her all the time. She’s really been pushing for me to pop the question for the last couple of months. Despite what she thinks, it’s really not that covert,” he scoffs, his lips flaring out into a pout. You note with bemusement that there is a small mole underneath the plush of his strawberry colored lower lip. How dare he have a mole in such a perfect location? Now your mind would never know peace until you dragged his lower lip between yours and sucked on that tiny chocolate chip. It’s actually deranged how your mind continuously chooses to flit between lust and rationality. 
“Jungkook?” Your voice takes on a shrill sound, “How long have we been dating?”
“As long as you want it to be.”
That doesn’t make any sense.
“Jungkook, please don’t mess around with me! How long have we been dating?” you demand more urgently. You are halfway to a full-blown panic attack and you need to calm down but nothing seems to be placating you about this entire situation.
The male walks around to step in front of you and then faces you head on. He keeps his hands to himself, crossing them while making sure that his fingers are folded and tucking into his armpits. He bends a little to look you in the eyes since he’s much taller, to peer carefully into your eyes that are slightly blown out from your constant state of shock and bewilderment. “Why didn’t it work?” he wonders.
“Well, not intentionally,” he muses, tapping a finger to his lip. God, even his hands are perfect. Each digit is long and tipped with neatly cut and perfectly clean fingernails. And they’re shiny too like he uses some type of cuticle oil. Not to mention how he’s got sexily protruding veins wrapping along the back of his hand and down to his wrist and arm.“I thought you’d be in on it. Could it be that it didn’t work on you even though it worked on everyone else in your life because you made the wish? My magic probably assumed that you didn’t need convincing since after all, this was what you wanted.”
Things make even less sense after his explanation even though Jungkook probably thought he was being helpful by providing it. Your eyes are narrowed in disbelief as you perturbedly shake your head.
“What are you talking about?” you hesitantly ask. You’re nervous because you’ve moved on from the idea that this is a hyperrealistic bad dream to the conspiracy theory that you have a crazy stalker who somehow figured out how to almost seamlessly integrate himself into your life and that he’s more than just the ordinary type of psychopath; this one seems like he’s the delusional type that thinks he has otherworldly powers. Wouldn’t that be just your luck: Jungkook is the first man you’ve been attracted to in months but he didn’t approach you like a normal person who wanted to pursue something.
Jungkook’s mouth takes on a pursed shape as he narrows his eyes at you, deep in thought; the coral red lips are scrunched together with the upper one flaring out. You can see the chocolatey brown mole right below them again and you are suddenly hit with the urge to kiss his lips until the frown is smoothed out.
“Do you have any idea what you even did last night?” he barks, his tone entirely too accusatory for your liking. One would think you had cheated on your imaginary boyfriend the evening before. He takes off his bucket hat in frustration and runs a hand through his blond locks, ruffling them. His jerky hand movements bring attention not only to the length of tattoos that encompass his arm but also its muscular veininess that had held you previously enraptured. You blink, you need to get dicked down soon. You wanted to give into Stockholm Syndrome way too easily for this man. Don’t do it, Y/N, no matter how hot Jungkook is, it’s scary that he’s in your house right now.
You rack your brain but come up woefully short. “I went to bed with only rosé as my dinner?” you hedge. You don’t think it’s that big of a deal although it’s definitely unadvisable to do. 
The male huffs, raising his right hand up before he snaps the fingers on that hand. A paper lantern appears, landing perfectly on his palm. Your eyebrows both raise because you recognize it immediately; it’s the lamp Safi had gifted you as your birthday present. 
“You made a wish for the perfect beau,” Jungkook explains patiently, “I made your wish come to life.”
“Can’t you undo it?” you push urgently. Why are you entertaining this mad man? Magic isn’t real, Y/N!
He excitedly quirks an eyebrow of his own, smirking as he takes in your look of bemusement. “Is that another wish?” he asks.
“No!” you swiftly interrupt. If you are in the Twilight Zone somehow, you need to be smart with how you navigate within this nightmare, at least until you figure out a way to wake yourself up.
“You only have one left, anyways,” he sasses tapping his plumper lower lip with his pointer and middle fingers, you’ve already noticed it’s a habit, rolling his big doe eyes, “I could kind of undo the effects of the wish by making its time constraint shorter so that it stops in the next five minutes but in my opinion, that’s just another wasted wish. So if I were you,” he says with a shrug, “personally I’d go along with it for the next ten days. We wouldn’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable but I would still be playing the role of the doting attentive paramour.”
You blink at him, your mind still sluggish from your wine hangover and terrible bout of sleep. “I only have one wish left?”
“Not the smartest of my mistresses or masters by a long stretch,” Jungkook agrees, teasing you, scrunching his nose to peer at you cutely. 
You gasp loudly, obviously affronted. Not the handsome weirdo calling you dumb. 
“Do I get three?” you question. Your mind is working on overtime today and it’s still taking you too long to understand things. You’d like to tell this Jungkook character that you graduated from the top university in the nation and have two degrees but you don’t think that he would believe you if you bragged and let that tidbit slip. 
“You do,” he nods, unhelpful as ever.
It kind of makes sense; you assume the purpose of genies is to manipulate their rulers into making all of their wishes as quickly as possible.
“Oh, you want me to tell you what your two used wishes were. Humans really are weak, aren’t they? Is your mind normally supposed to be so foggy after drinking so much?” He calls you out directly and you gasp; you suppose that genies don’t have manners. Or at least this one doesn’t, you glare at Jungkook’s untactfulness.
“I know one of them was to have you here,” as your boyfriend, you finish off in your head, too unnerved to say it out loud just in case that makes it more true, “but what was the one before it?”
“Oh! You wanted there to be light.” Fiat lux, look at you, and you thought you weren’t philosophical. 
You blink again. Nope, that doesn’t follow. You would never be so profound. What would a wish like that even mean to a genie? An increase in intelligence? For there to be less ignorant people in the world? Ah. Wait. You do vaguely remember thinking that it would be so nice if you had more light to see the markings on the lantern. But—
“I made my wish for a man on a shooting star,” you retort as a counterargument, trying to wheedle out of Jungkook’s covenant so that you’ll have an additional wish to add to your arsenal.
“Nice try,” snorts Jungkook. He’s probably listened to a thousand arguments by a thousand masters that have all tried to bargain and reason with him trying to manipulate him and exploit him for more wishes, “But I made that appear in the night sky. It was not fated to be there that night until I materialized it. It wasn’t real so it didn’t have the powers of a normal shooting star.”
“So shooting stars actually work?” 
He shrugs, “Sometimes. Wishes depend on the caster. Theoretically you can make a wish on a shooting star, a wishing well, your birthday, on a deity, etc. But you can rarely succeed at having a wish granted, much less by using the same method twice. And most people, if they’re lucky, only get to have one wish come true in their lifetime. It’s much more common for there to be no successful ones. Aren’t you lucky to have woken me up from my slumber,” he snarks, “you got three.”
“I made a birthday wish,” you faintly mutter rather dispiritedly.
He hears you anyways, “I don’t think it worked. Why not try again next year?” 
You ignore the snarkiness of his suggestion, “So you’re really my boyfriend for the next ten days.”
He nods. You squint at him, you still haven’t put your contacts on for the day and your glasses remain forgotten in your bedroom. 
“Can I ask you to do things? Like a girlfriend asks her boyfriend? Or does that count as a wish.”
“You can ask me anything. Whether or not I do anything is entirely up to me. I suppose I will be more courteous and mindful of your requests since I am playing the part of the perfect significant other. As long as it’s related to this wish, I will try my best to make it come to fruition for you. For example, if you wanted me to take you out for dinner on the rooftop of a skyscraper I probably would. If you wanted me to buy you a bunch of gifts or fill your rooms with flowers, I could do that too.”
“Why is it only ten days? I didn’t wish for ten days,” you inquire.
Jungkook smiles at you sheepishly, showing the first sign of less than suaveness. “As far as mistresses go, you’re not a selfish one but would you believe me if I told you that in the past only terrible people used to be able to draw me out of my lamp and make demands of me? As the years went by I added rules: only three wishes, no wishes have permanent effects, and only those pure of heart can awaken me, just to name a few.”
“Oh.” You don’t know what else to say.
“In ten days, your life will go back to normal. And even though you will always remember this, it will become more and more dreamlike and disconnected from reality as time goes on. One day you might even come to the decision that you had made me up and that I was a figment of your imagination. No one can hold onto the idea that this was all real for too long.”
“So for this week, everyone in my life is convinced we’ve been together for a while but next week they won’t even have known I had a boyfriend?” you conclude.
“You’ll wake up on the eleventh morning like time hasn’t passed at all; it’ll be like it’s today all over again but without me in all those pictures that stand as proof of a shared, albeit fake, history,” Jungkook confirms.
“But what will happen to you?” you worry. 
“I’ll be sticking around unless you make your third wish before then.” He looks at you hopefully but you snort in retort. “When you make the third wish, I’ll go back into the lamp and it will disappear from your life before the process starts all over for me. I’ll probably be sleeping until I’m let out again.”
“I wasn’t the one who found you,” you frown. “My best friend gave it to me as a birthday present.”
Jungkook's eyes widen marginally but you don’t catch how the genie appears momentarily unnerved, he shrugs it off to you, feigning nonchalance, “That doesn’t really matter because you were the one that was able to let the lamp open.”
You hum but say nothing. You’re distracted by the magnificent bounty of breakfast food that Jungkook has arranged on your tiny square table for four, not that you ever had to use all four of the place settings at the same time. You make your way to the dining area, edging away from Jungkook and the conversation, but as expected, the male trails after you like a lost puppy. 
“Do you have any plans for how our day should progress, mistress?”
“Please stop calling me that,” you blush hotly. You are the subbiest sub ever so it’s discomforting to hear you being referred to in such a manner even if it’s not in a sexual context.
“What would you like to be called instead?” Jungkook inquires, altruistically.
“Let’s just stick to my name for now,” you mutter, placing two fried eggs on your plate before going for the waffles. Jungkook should be glad you’re such a benevolent holder of the lamp, he says you’re pure of heart but you don’t know about all that, all you do know is, you won’t make Jungkook’s life any harder than it needs to be for the next ten days.
A light smirk paints Jungkook’s lips as he takes the seat opposite to you. “We can make our way to pet names and terms of endearment as the days progress.”
You choke, coughing and sputtering as a square of waffle gets lodged in your throat. But as your eyes water up, widening from pain and surprise, Jungkook smoothly waves his hand in a flippant manner in your direction and the waffle disappears immediately.
Gasping for air you ask, “Does this mean that when you’re finally gone I’ll be going back to choking and die a painful death?”
Jungkook scoffs, “Only the wishes I make come true for my masters have limits to them. And it’s a recent development I made to curb their usually evil desires. I’m very powerful. Everything I do has permanent effects. It’s why I’m locked up any time I don’t have an owner.”
You blink, gobsmacked. Somehow his arrogance is terribly sexy and it makes your pussy throb. 
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On the first day, following breakfast, Jungkook makes the two of you disappear and reappear in Malta for an island vacation and date. You’re in a panic, claiming that you can’t be in a foreign country without any identification, money, or clothes. But the male just rolls his eyes at your antics and reminds you just who exactly has been cast to play the role of your picture perfect boyfriend. 
You side-eye him now. He is walking slightly ahead of you to the left so that there is space left for you to walk beside him if you want to catch up but you can’t make up your mind if you want to. His blond hair is trapped under yet another black bucket hat which makes you wonder if he hates the pale color of his locks and he’s wearing a black Hawaiian shirt with white hibiscuses creating an artfully arranged pattern. His black board shorts have a 5 inch inseam and you’re wondering how it is that this thousands-of-years old mythical being dresses like an emo alt boy. Not that you know what two out of those three words mean. You assume it’s like a vibe from what the gen z college students that appear in your office tell you. Jungkook looks just like them. 
You’ve been wheedling Jungkook to reveal details about his own life but the individual has managed to remain tight-lipped thus far. He runs ahead to a street vendor to excitedly buy you a sandwich. The round leavened bread has a filling of potatoes, capers, tomatoes, and mozzarella. He hands you one of the diagonally cut slices before bringing the other half to his mouth.
You hold it in your hand bemusedly, at a loss of what to do with it. You had quite literally finished the meal he had prepared for you half an hour ago. Side-eyeing him once again, this time enviously, you sigh; you can’t eat like he does because unlike him you do not have magical powers and if he continues to feed you like this, you’ll gain 30 pounds by the end of the 10 days. And you could ask him to keep you from gaining weight but that would probably count as a third wish instead of being an extension of his boyfriendly duties.
“Are you ready to see our lodgings?” he asks, a droplet of olive oil, that the sandwich had practically been doused in, glistening on his perfectly coral colored Cupid’s bow.
You give him a look that wordlessly states ‘lead the way,’ and follow him as your walk takes the two of you before a two story condo located on the waterfront. 
“Can I ask you a question,” you start off.
Jungkook interrupts you immediately, knowing just where your head was going, “I did not make the apartment appear out of midair. It was conveniently empty and I planted a thought in the owner’s head that he had rented it to us.”
Okay first of all, that was not what you were going to ask. “Are you going to pay him?” you demand self-righteously.
“Why?” Jungkook deadpans, “The timeline will be reset soon enough.”
“I was actually going to ask you,” you tread carefully, though apparently not delicately enough because the male’s hackles start to rise and his gaze turns into one that is more filled with suspicion and distrust. You plow ahead anyways and repeat, “I wanted to ask you why you were going along with this.”
“Because it is your wish.” He says it with such simplicity, his face as expressionless as his tone.
You sigh frustratedly, “Yes but—am I making you uncomfortable? You don’t have to pretend to be my lover. I have to admit I wasn’t thinking that this would happen when I made that wish.”
“So, did you have a male in mind then?” Jungkook’s expression turns even more grim as he shutters away his emotions. His large dark brown eyes are impassive for the first time since you’ve met him and you’re starting to miss the shine of those doelike lenses.
“Well, no. But, if I wanted my fake boyfriend to be Kim Namjoon, could you do that?”
“Who is Kim Namjoon?” He sounds so affronted, unable to believe that you could prefer anyone to him. Huh. You had the feeling that Jungkook was a cocky self-aggrandizing genie but you hadn’t realized how much until now.
“My celebrity crush.”
“What is a ‘celebrity’?”
You stare at him blankly, “So you weren’t out in the twentieth century either, huh?” 
When he frowns at you, those cute lips of his curving down, you hurriedly tack on, “It doesn’t matter, anyways. I just asked because, well— We don’t have to be ‘lovers,’” you quote Jungkook from earlier on in the day. “What if we just hung out as friends for the next ten days?”
“I would like that,” admitted Jungkook. “Although I’m not sure if that actually fulfills your wish.”
“Why not?” you pout. “What was the explicit wording of my wish, anyways?”
Jungkook looks away without answering you and then wordlessly marches towards the front door of the condo, expecting you to follow. 
The inside of the two storied structure is very rustic but clean. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of clutter, which you appreciate, but you wouldn’t call it minimalistic. It had a beachy European vibe to it with furniture pieces that had probably seen their prime in design in the late 90s. You actually like the old school feel of the place; it makes it feel more authentic. The place has about four bedrooms but Jungkook tells you that the two rooms the two of you will be sharing are right next to each other. 
When you walk into the place where you’ll be sleeping tonight, you are met by the sight of a white painted metal bed frame that has a lot of curlicues making up the headboard. The bedding looks comfy and clean which is always nice and the box springs and mattress look relatively new, providing a nice height and plumpness to your bed. There’s a massive pile of shopping bags and boxes stacked against the wall and you can only wonder if your attractive genie companion had gone into the trouble of making sure you would have a variety of clothes and necessities on this trip.
As you fiddle through the tissue paper hiding the contents of a bright orange Louis Vuitton bag, you are puzzled how Jungkook is both on top of and out of the loop when it comes to the 21st century. The male is on top of fashion but not famous people and you wonder what else he knows or is woefully oblivious about. You put on a cute russet brown bikini set that looks gorgeous on your honeyed skin; there is a large gold hoop connecting the two halves of your top as well as two matching hoops on the sides of your hips. You are currently pulling on a pair of Louis Vuitton shorts with cute pockets that are lined with a gold colored zipper and are almost the exact same shade of brown as your swimming suit but covered by the familiar and iconic pattern of interlocking LV’s with flowers in white, teal, orange, and light brown, just about having buckled in the cute strappy belt that comes with it when your door is unceremoniously thrust open. 
You stand, jaw slackened in surprise, as Jungkook walks into the room looking so colorful that you blink to make sure it’s actually him. His hair is now the pinkish red color of cherries and he's wearing a yellow T-shirt that has an opened shirt that looks like a white baseball tee over it, though the fabric is more airy and lightweight; the sleeves of his yellow top are tucked into the sleeves of the white one. He’s wearing navy blue swimming trunks and you love that he turned out to be the type of male that sticks to 5-7 inch inseams rather than wearing shorts that go down super low and cover his knees like you know so many men in your acquaintance to do. It baffles you; don’t they realize how ugly it makes their outfits look? 
Jungkook snaps his fingers to make a pair of black Ray-Bans with gold frames cover your eyes to match the ones tucked into his soft red hair and you notice the multitude of beaded bracelets adorning his wrist. 
“I haven’t gone to the beach in years,” you proclaim excitedly. 
Now that you two have settled that he’s a genie and you’re his mistress who gets to call all the shots, there is a sense of calm over the two of you and this wayward situation that you’ve thrusted the two of you into. He’s not acting the role of your boyfriend. He’s just someone you’re on vacation with and it makes it so much easier to relax when you keep that in mind. 
You eagerly reach out to grab his large hand in your much smaller one to tug him along with you, back outside of the condominium so that you two could eventually make your way to the beachfront. The male gives in easily, he engulfs his hand with yours and you can feel its warm heat cupping you comfortably. You give him a happy smile and proceed to pull him along with you which is much easier said than done because Jungkook finds it hilarious to drag his feet and stand his ground on the gravelly cobblestone streets so that he can laugh at your feeble attempts at strength as you try to move him. 
Jungkook is bored at the beach. You scowl at him. He’s being a party pooper, acting like a black hole that’s bringing down your excitement and sucking it all in. He has no idea how to relax. You had told him as much when he sighed as he sat down next to you in the little area you made him create for the two of you. There’s a cute blanket for the two of you to lie on and an umbrella if you no longer want to be in the sun. You even got him to materialize some books for you (you just had to tell him the author and title) but from the looks of his displeased frown when he discovered that nearly all of the books have raunchy covers, Jungkook’s not thrilled about your little omission. 
You glower at him. The blanket is massive with enough space for the two of you, yet Jungkook sits so close beside you that you’re almost halfway to the sand as you hover near the edge of the cloth. You slip your shorts off and put it on one of the beach chairs next to the two of you before flopping down again. You turn your body around so that you are facing the beach as you lie on your stomach, your elbows propping you up so you can read the third book of the Bridgertons series. 
“God, Jungkook,” you goad, “If you’re not going to do anything, can you apply my sunscreen on me?” It’s in the little tote you have with you.
Jungkook scrunches up his face as he scrutinizes you from behind the lenses of his matching black sunglasses. You had to put yours back on your head because you couldn’t read anything with how dark they made the page appear. “Why don’t you put sunscreen on me first?” 
“Jungkook, you don’t need sunscreen!” you whine. “You’re a genie. You don’t have to worry about the dangers of skin cancer and UV rays.”
“It’s amazing how often I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he muses as he huffs at you, going into your bag to pull out the sunscreen.
Perhaps because he’s unused to applying sunscreen on, you doubted the Joseon era (which was the last time he had been out) Koreans did because you were pretty sure it was invented in the early 1940s, he squirts what feels like half the bottle on your back. You screech at the cold aqueous feeling of the liquid as it trails down your figure approaching the barriers of your cute bikini top. 
“Jungkook!” you yelp. “Untie my clothes! It’s going to ruin them and leave ugly chalky marks on the fabric, you asshole! And you’re supposed to blend it into my skin so there’s no white cast.”
Jungkook places his hand against your back, cupping the deliquescent lotion and trapping it beneath his massive palm. One handedly, he undoes the tie to your brown string bikini, leaving your back bare as the cloth protects your minimal modesty in the front only. Ignoring what you had said about getting your bottoms ruined, he doesn't remove them, though you have no idea why. There’s not anyone near you on this long stretch of the coast. Instead, he just tugs it halfway down your ass. 
He moves his body so that his knees are straddling you on either side but since he’s lightly perched on your thighs, your uncovered ass is mere centimeters away from his crotch and when he moves to make sure that his hands are covering every inch of your revealed body with the sun block, you swear you can feel something large poking you at times.
His touch is feather light as his fingertips ghost along your back making you arch into him. His finger traces along your spine, making you keen lightly as you bite down on your lower lip to keep him from hearing you. His palms knead at the knots in your body as you still at the sensations he is pulling from your body. He’s being perfectly respectful, his hands stay on the length of your back, not moving under to canvas your breasts or slip down your hips or drift along the plump curve of your ass, yet somehow you are still mindless under his dexterous palms. 
Your eyelashes flutter closed, your eyes no longer able to focus on Benedict Bridgerton’s love story, as Jungkook massages the white cream into your skin with his strong hands. The male pulls his lip between his bunny teeth as he frowns when he hears your attempts to conceal the sounds that he is coaxing out of you. 
“Jungkook,” you pant out nervously, fearing how much further this can go if you don’t put a wise stop to it now. 
“I can do my legs,” you suggest. 
“Ah okay, Y/N,” he agrees. “But do you really want to spend the whole day reading that?” 
His face is twisted into a grimace as he glares at the upside down book you half opened to hold its place. 
“What do you want to do?” you ask getting up from the blanket and grabbing the bottle of sunscreen before squirting some on your hands to go over all the areas Jungkook hadn’t gotten around to.
“Do you want to go scuba diving?”
“Have you ever gone scuba diving?” 
“Of course not,” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “But I’ll try everything once.”
He whisks you two away to the Maltese island of Comino once you’re ready to call it quits at the beach. When you’re finally with the group of people who are getting ready to scuba dive with the instructor, suiting up and paying attention to the directions so they’re safe as they start to explore the reefs, lagoons, and underwater caves, you start to panic.
“Jungkook,” you mumble, edging closer to him and tiptoeing so you can whisper into his ear. The male turns his head to look at you, moving closer and instantly stooping down so you can easily state your piece. “Jungkook, I don’t feel comfortable scuba diving.”
“I’ll keep you safe, Y/N.” God, did you wish for the perfect boyfriend or what? Maybe drunk off her ass Y/N had something going for her. Even before, you had been tempted to make things get sexual as he was running those powerful hands over your pliant body, but you had managed to barely control yourself and keep yourself from shoving Jungkook down on the sand to climb over his body. It had been so nice of him to do that for you, very boyfriend, or as Jungkook would probably say, lover-like.
“Yes, I know,” you pause, deep in thought, before you continue, “but I don’t want you to limit your enjoyment because you’re so busy looking over me, trying to keep me from accidentally killing or maiming myself. Can we like do something a little more tame... like snorkeling? I don’t want to go so deep into the water.”
He gives into you easily, it doesn’t even take him a second to think about what you’re asking from him, and he readily transports the two of you onto a boat where a snorkeling class has already began to put on their masks and flippers before they make their ways to the edge of the boat to jump off. 
After watching the humans struggle putting on the equipment for ten or even fifteen minutes each, Jungkook decides it’ll just be easier if he does it for you so you don’t have to worry about if anything was worn improperly or unsafely.
He thinks you look adorable with the giant clear goggles; your long mane of hair squishes to your skull where the straps of the mask are pressing into your head and the lenses magnify your eyes making them look cute albeit a little bug-like. He quietly commands you to stop fiddling around with the snorkel; he knows you’re worried but he doesn’t want you to mess around with the pipe and accidentally disconnect what Jungkook had correctly set up for you. You’re waddling a bit in your large black and indigo flippers, attempting to pull your shorts off and get the holes through your suddenly enormous feet. You trip and Jungkook catches you, holding you against his bare chest because he had gotten rid of his clothes as well so he would only be in his swimming trunks.
“You okay?” he softly inquires, keeping you trapped within the heat of his comforting embrace. 
You can only squeak your reply, distracted about how his massive palms are so warm and almost entirely encapsulate your waist as he holds you up against him. There is something cool and metallic digging into your skin and your hand brushes against it. Was Jungkook wearing a waist chain? The male flinches away from your hold, stepping back instantly. 
“No need to worry about the jump or the water being too cold,” Jungkook murmurs, blatantly ignoring whatever had happened seconds ago, “I’ve got you.”
And in a flash, the two of you are underwater, surrounded by so much clean liquid that you can enjoy the greenish blue hue of the ocean and yet make out everything with such clarity. 
You frown when you notice that though Jungkook put on flippers he didn’t have a mask covering his face and making him look as distorted and ugly as you felt. It was so unfair; you have to look unattractive so you can breathe and not die submerged in the sea but Jungkook looks like a model with the water lifting his red locks and making them swirl around his head. Though he doesn’t want your eyes to focus on his waist, your gaze is immediately drawn to it, shifting their focus from the clean cut muscled edges of his eight pack, just barely able to make out the gold band that sits snugly around his bronzed skin, kept in place by the minimal flare to his hips, due to how your vision is slightly warped and distorted by your goggles. 
Jungkook reaches out to grab your hand, his long fingers wrapping themselves around your delicate wrist and he gently pulls you towards him, his lengthy legs swiftly flapping along as he propels his body around the water, taking you on his guided tour for one. Swimming side by side with Jungkook, you follow him deeper into the half submerged caves of St. Maria, your eyes taking in the mesmerizing schools of snappers and sea bream swimming around, ducking in and out of view when they travel around sandbars. You flinch into yourself, pulling away from Jungkook when you see a moray eel but the male just giggles, air bubbles releasing from his mouth as his chortles continue, his red hair a darkened burgundy cloud around his ears. He softly tugs you back to him and pursues on with the two of yours sea adventure. 
You gasp and clap excitedly when you see several cuttlefish and even a sand colored octopus, eagerly pointing it out to Jungkook, who only smiles when he notices your hand slip out of his again and then swims closer to the octopus to ooh and aah over it. Eventually, the snorkeling guide asks for everyone to come back onto the boat so that they can direct it over to a ship wreckage where you all will be allowed to go back into the sea to get a closer glimpse at the German minesweeper. 
The rusting boat is a little deeper than expected and you find yourself hesitantly waddling your legs in the water to keep yourself in the same unmoving position, while the rest of your class energetically flaps their legs to swim towards the ship, swimming further into the depths of the Maltese sea. Jungkook looks back at you from where he had gone to follow the crowd, his lips jutting out as he purses his lips, deep in contemplation. 
His eyes narrow as he looks at you consideringly though you’re absentminded in your persisting fear and have not become aware of his gaze in your direction yet. He smoothly paddles back to you, holding you with his warm palm pressed against the small of your back. You look up at him and shiver. 
Do you want me to help you? You know I wouldn't let you drown or have anything bad happen to you? You purposefully screw and unscrew your eyes shut, trying to make sense that this powerful genie possesses the ability to broadcast his thoughts into your mind because the two of you can’t speak in water. He probably has a more equipt way of dealing with that too but was choosing to exert less energy.
You nod brusquely and the male transports the two of you right by the wreckage where the rest of the class are enthusiastically swimming around and admiring the ruins of the World War II ship. Jungkook gently presses on your lower back pushing you forward to encourage you to explore the minesweeper on your own but you back up pressing yourself into his front, not even leaving an inch of space in between you. 
He looks down at you indulgently, tucking one of your wildly floating locks of hair behind your ear, as his hand moves away, it caresses the side of your cheek, making its way down. As you let out a longing sigh, he grips the underside of your jaw, tilting your chin up so he can remove the mouthpiece to your snorkel before he swoops down to capture your lips with his.
You’ve been yearning for his kiss since the moment you woke up and found your eyes enraptured by those pillowy coral colored lips, and Jungkook does not disappoint. They taste like mint chapstick and coffee as he hauls your body against his, one of his brawny arms locking you into his hold while the other works its way up while he winds his fingers through the drenched locks of your hair. As you continuously gasp in between every short kiss he slots over your lips, your hands travel across his broad shoulders and impressive back where you can feel flexing bundles of muscles beneath your fingertips. 
Tiring of the small abrupt pecks, Jungkook pulls you up, your legs instinctually wrapping around his hips as you meet him for a more impassioned kiss. You enthusiastically part your mouth, welcoming him and his tongue licks its way into that wet cavern, twining around your tongue as you both fight for control. You’re weak to the way that his lips mold against yours with its firm pressure, fitting against you perfectly. As you wrap your arms around his neck, holding on tight, Jungkook moves his hands to cup your ass, fitting you more perfectly against him. He gropes your butt fervently as your fingers snake themselves into his luscious locks. 
You can feel his curious wandering hands roving across the planes of your body as you lean deeper into the kisses, gasping when Jungkook releases you to let you catch your breath. But even then, your lips are still attached to his as he busies himself with nibbling on your plump bottom lip, not wanting to waste a single second. His fingers find themselves into the hidden space between your cheeks, gripping on them softly to spread them more apart and then he runs his index finger across the seam, traveling from your clenching asshole to your fluttering core. Your pussy gushes more and more with his every pass over it, not that he can tell with you both underwater. But surely he can sense that your clit is becoming more sensitive and engorged with the minimal simulation, eager for more. His fingernail catches on that little bud his next pass over and you moan loudly against his lips before accidentally biting down on the lower one impassionately. 
When the two of you break apart, he leans his forehead against your nape, licking over his bitten lip tasting the faint flavor of iron and sea salt. It stings a little, if he wants to be completely honest. But with a simple burst of his powers, the pain is gone and since Jungkook already has his face pressing against your neck, he uses the opportunity to dart his tongue into the shallow pools of your collar bones, lapping at them softly, his tongue moving across your throat to manipulate whines and keens out of you. Even as he does this, his focus is split and he finds himself nudging your copper colored bikini bottom to the side as he reveals your pussy folds to one of his questing hands. 
Jungkook grows daring as he nudges at your pussy with nimble fingers, thumbing your clit and pressing down hard enough to make you wail. His fingers dart across the furled petals leading to your throbbing core and he ghosts those appendages, letting you feel the sudden sensation of fullness before it’s swiftly gone like you imagined it. You’re writhing in his arms, sound travels differently in the ocean but he selfishly doesn’t want anyone to see your eyes rolling backwards as your mouth opens wide in an ahegao type expression. 
A red flush covers your tanned skin, travelling from your décolletage to your throat and Jungkook finds himself capturing your chin in his firm grasp. His thumb swipes at your lips repeatedly until you finally part them so he can shove it inside all whilst jutting two fingers in and out of your cunt deliciously. You gag around the appendage, saliva trailing down your lips and painting the sides of your mouth as you struggle to acclimate your body to the brutal and hectic pace of how he thrusts his fingers in and out your folds. 
With Jungkook’s promise to keep you safe, you don’t have to worry about sputtering and choking on salty sea water, instead you’re doing so on his thick fingers which are a pale and slim imitation to how his cock will feel in your mouth. With your focus so frayed and with him dead set on making you go mindless with lust, Jungkook turns his focus to his mouth, nipping his way down the neglected column of your throat, until he gets to your cleavage. Jungkook chooses to bite down on that golden circle connecting the two halves of your skimpy bikini, pulling at it with his bunny teeth before letting go again to have the swimwear bounce against your skin, stimulating your nipples and making them harden into beads. He kisses and tongues your breasts through the moisture resistant fabric, growling in frustration at its thickness that inhibits his abilities to inflame you even further. He nabs it between the hold of his clenched teeth and tugs, pulling at your top until only one cup is left maintaining your precarious modesty. 
With one of your breasts free from the cloth, Jungkook wastes no time to wrap his lips around it’s stiffened tip. His agile tongue swirls itself around, laving the hardened bud, and he gently nibbles at it, making you reflexively nip at his thumb. He has you wrapped around him both figuratively and literally, and he divides his attention, never forgetting to incite your pulsating pussy with forceful pumps of his appendages as he sucks on your breasts and lets you suck on the fingers to his other hand. There’s something about gagging on Jungkook’s tatted digits that has you raggedly inhaling through your nose and falling apart at the seams at all the attention your body is under. 
When you finally cum, you sag against him; your top is halfway down your abdomen and one of its straps is dangling by your elbow. Your eyes are still blown out from lust but you’ve calmed down somewhat though you're desperately trying to catch your breath, counting on Jungkook’s inexhaustible strength to hold you up beside him. You seem to be completely unaware of your surroundings and how the other snorkelers swim closer to the two of you since you are both breathless and a little disoriented from the heated kisses, and more, that followed.
Fortunately for your unsettled self, the male isn’t standing idle as you are, trying to make sense of your surroundings. He fixes your bottom so that it no longer digs into your soft curves and repositions it so that your pussy is completely covered. You float in the water and let him manhandle you like you’re his pretty doll, letting him secure up your bikini so your breasts are no longer exposed. He even reties it in the back for you before he puts your snorkel back onto your mouth. But as he does so, he bites on his lower lip, sucking his cheeks in as his eyes hold a glimmer of something that he’s trying to hide from you.
You irately raise your eyebrows at him as he finally lets out the laughter he had been holding in, in the form of a breathy chuckle. Sorry, it’s nothing, his thoughts are once again intruding your mind, it’s just I forgot you were wearing your cute goggles, that’s all!
Immediately you are still as mortification takes over your body, a frown adorning your features. And just like that, the moment is broken and you are no longer under his spell. 
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In the afternoon, you two walk around the beachfront of where your condo lies, tired after scuba diving and wanting to engage in some low level, minimal effort tourism. Well, you’re tired; Jungkook has a boundless expanse of energy. He’s like an excitable puppy who takes on everything he sees as if it’s his first life although you know it’s not. But you suppose, if you were kept in a prison regularly for upwards of hundreds of years without any idea when your next chance at freedom was, you too would make the most of every opportunity that presented itself to you. 
Jungkook claps every time you pick up something that suits you and immediately buys it for you, flitting between acting the role of a supportive best friend and a sexy sugar daddy, but you’re into it, enraptured by the duality that suits him, giving him a cute glow to his dark brown doe eyes. After you end up with too many souvenir bracelets and little knick knacks, even a little pouch to hold your phone and money, though you aren’t likely to call anyone or need to spend any money during the next ten days, you cut Jungkook off from getting you anything more. You beg off for a chance to relax, maybe even take a midday nap which isn’t something you’ve done since you were in high school, before getting ready to go to the night time date that Jungkook promises will be even more spectacular. 
It’s about 6pm, and you’re all glammed up for your date with Jungkook. He’s taking his job of wooing you super seriously. You dimly wonder whether all genies are as competitive as Jungkook, striving for a 100% satisfaction guaranteed (which he certainly had done in the turquoise water earlier in the day). You had asked him about it during one of the rounds to the small kiosks around the open air bazaar, if you got to fill out a customer service report at the end of this entire experience. The male had narrowed his eyes at you, a slandered look of affront taking over his face as he wound up his arms together tightly and pointedly stalked away from you.
He seems to have mellowed out however. You could have sworn you heard him singing lightly as he went around his room, immersed in his tasks, talking to inanimate objects like the Disney character that he was. However Jungkook is a little bit petty, and had decided to withhold the location of your date tonight from you which left you with no idea of what dress code to aim for. 
You think you did pretty well, all things considered.
Your thick locks have been washed to get rid of all the salt that clung to them after your snorkeling excursion and you have it slicked back into a sleek half up half down hairdo that doesn't have a single hair out of place. Meanwhile, your makeup features smokey eyes and dark currant colored lips since you wanted your glam look to have an edge to it. 
Your outfit is made out of the contents of the packages and shopping bags that Jungkook had lined the wall of your room with, earlier in the day. You’re wearing a skin clinging Versace mini dress with a plunging neckline that barely covers your ass and is covered in glittery burgundy colored sequins. It makes your rack look fabulous which is only being held up with some nude bra pads, sticky tape, and sheer pleas for divine intervention. Meanwhile, your ass looks scrumptious and perky like you just got a BBL on this Maltese vacation. There are long strappy black Saint Laurent heels wrapping around your legs and lengthening the limbs making you look like an Amazonian queen. Gold Harry Winston hoops adorn your ears with a slim gold chain from the brand dipping into your cleavage while an assortment of rings from Chanel and Cartier adorn your fingers and offset the gold love bracelet banging against your left wrist. To put it simply, you look like a Goddamn fucking catch. 
After making sure that every detail to your look is perfect as you gaze into the full length mirror in your room and attempt tugging on the skirt of the Versace dress one more time, you leave your room to knock on the door to Jungkook’s room that is right beside it. 
The male opens it instantly, almost like he was waiting for you to knock and his jaw slackens a little as he takes in the full, lethal, image of you in your micro mini, with the tumbling dark locks of hair falling over your shoulder and your legs looking like they would look perfect over his shoulders with the strappy sandals still on, their thin stiletto heels digging into his back as he pounded you into blissful nirvana.
Like always, you remain oblivious to Jungkook’s ravenous and coveting glances. Mostly, it’s because you are similarly distracted. His hair is no longer cherry red or the blond that you think is its default; rather, Jungkook has long cobalt colored locks that get darker towards the roots framing his face suavely. He stands in front of you looking gloriously tall as he wears a slightly loose fit dark colored blazer that reveals a white tucked in shirt underneath and black cargo joggers to soften the formal look to his outfit. His black Prada Chelsea boots make him tower over you with their giant imposing soles. He has a few earrings in and a silver chain hanging from his neck that makes you wonder if it will clink against your nude body if the night ends with another bout of heated sexual exploration. When he offers you his hand, you notice that he has a few bands adorning his fingers as well. 
You allow yourself to get pulled into his embrace. He tucks you against his chest, your bare back hitting the soft cotton of his T-shirt, the fabric is so thin that you can easily feel the heat of his body and more importantly, every hard ridge of muscle. The waist chain is there too and you have figured out that it is probably what keeps Jungkook bound under the lamp’s control. No wonder he hates it.  
His arm is securely pressed against your waist, squeezing you lightly. He’s in a good mood and you are too. You’ll just ignore the fact that he’s an immortal and that he’s not actually yours. You two can play pretend for nine more days. While you sigh and your eyes softly shutter shut in contentment, he dips his chin into the hollow of your collarbone before he whisks the two of you away to the dinner that he had planned for the two of you.
You blink in confusion as you take in the new sight. 
The sky is turning purplish blue in the evening and from the looks of it Jungkook has just taken you to an empty construction site. There’s nothing but excavators, front loaders, and a bulldozer in your vicinity. The skeletal metal outline of a partially made building explains the presence of the class 8 vehicles. 
You gingerly step out of Jungkook’s hold, walking a full ten feet away before turning back towards him. Your head is cocked and your freezing fingers are gripping your hips as you place your hands on them. “Can you kill your master?” you whisper yell back at him hesitantly, “Is that allowed?”
Jungkook rolls his eyes before he scoffs, “No, it isn’t. Not that I would want to,” he side eyes you, “yet, anyway.” 
He says it lightly as a joke, obviously, but you let out a dry laugh of, “Ha. Ha. Ha,” to match his heinous sounding cackles as you glare back at him, full of indignation as you hold your ground, extremely nonplussed. 
“Get over here, will you?” he hisses, “Our date isn’t even here; it’s over there.” 
He points to a crane on the left and you squint in the direction, still baffled. “I don’t get it.”
Jungkook sighs with displeasurement before he transports in front of you and grabs you by the waist again. Within seconds you are transported to what appears to be a dinner table attached to a crane and Jungkook has already gotten you seat belted and safely harnessed into your seat. And to your even greater surprise, his comfy blazer is covering your arms, enveloping your body and keeping you warm as Jungkook’s discernible scent of delicate florals and rich sandalwood overwhelm your senses. 
He sits next to you because the table is long and rectangular and this is the only way to be close to each other. You have to twist your body to the left to face him but you don’t find yourself minding when you notice that there is a lovely grin on his kissable mouth and a lock of dark blue hair falling into his face that he doesn’t move away. The waiters as well as the safety instructors of this sky high restaurant suddenly reappear, from wherever it was that they were hiding, to bustle around the two of you, breaking the spell you had been under, hypnotized by Jeon fucking Jungkook. 
They fill up your wine glasses with a 1967 Burgundy and water, placing two baskets between the two of you that hold a variety of French breads. Jungkook gazes into your eyes from beside you, his palm pressed against his cheek. “Anything you want to try?”
You blink, flustered, as you take on the brunt of the heat from those glowing chocolatey orbs. You don’t think you have ever been in such close proximity to Jungkook while under such a thorough perusal. Your eyes immediately slide down and you focus your attention onto the menu that had been placed before you. Almost all of it is in French. 
You happily hum when you notice there is seafood, choosing to order the Moules-frites, mussels on a shallot and white wine sauce with shoestring fried potatoes. You murmur your request to Jungkook and he calls the waiter over to tell him your desire for seafood. Perhaps inspired by you, he orders salmon en papillote with beurre blanc, sauce vierge and sauteed asparagus. It sounds fancy but it’s just salmon wrapped in parchment paper that Jungook cuts open in front of you with a side of tomatoes dressed with vinaigrette, the French white butter sauce and asparagus. 
The two of you dig into your meals vigorously and you almost forget that you’re on a date as you sigh after every bite of the scrumptious meal that brings tears to your eyes over how amazing it tastes. 
Jungkook chuckles softly next to you, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sound so happy.” There is almost a wistful tone to his remark.
You lick a drop of the white wine sauce off your lip before tapping your mouth with a cream colored cloth napkin. “Well, you’ve only known me for about a day,” you tease. “But I love food.”
“I do too,” admits Jungkook. You knew that. You had spent more time around food and eating today than you did over most weekends that you had off. And it was always so much food. If anything, you would’ve been surprised if he had said he hated eating and that it was just a necessary task he had to partake in to continue to be alive like some of the gym bros you knew. This time the wistfulness of his tone is more evident and you easily catch it in his words. 
“You can’t enjoy food?” you inquire, sharply. You’re aghast. You could never imagine living such an abhorrent half-life. This was primarily one of the reasons that you were anti-Edward during the Twilight craze of the 2010s. You would never give up on the pleasures that came from eating to exchange it for a life of drinking only blood for sustenance.
“I don’t need to eat food to survive,” admits Jungkook forlornly, “I can’t enjoy it at all; it's just mastication for me. Like I’m chewing on sawdust covered in spices. But I still do it. It’s the only way to remind me of my humanity. And it looks so good. I can smell it but it tastes like nothing much and I can’t savor it at all.”
You quirk an eyebrow silently. This was the first hint you had gotten into Jungkook’s person. He used to be human once upon a time. You don’t want to rock the boat so you don’t hedge for more details. 
“That’s horrible,” you cry out instead, visibly livid on his behalf. “Would it help if I ate for the both of us?” 
He laughs again and pushes his salmon towards you, “Only because I know how much you adore seafood. You won’t be able to get the wine or dessert away from me though,” he warns. 
You just grin at him and he returns a lopsided one at you, his eyes crinkle at the corners softening his gaze as his dimples make an appearance for the first time. You gawk at him, mesmerized by his gorgeous features. He’s so handsome. You wonder if he was this handsome before he was a genie or if being a genie amped up his attractiveness so you would fall under his lure like a siren with her prey. Nah, with your luck Jungkook was probably born looking like Adonis. 
You two eat in comfortable company, the conversation ebbing and flowing freely. You tell Jungkook about your job as an admissions counselor and the terrible guilt you feel when you can’t help one of your students accomplish their dreams of graduating from one of the best four year universities in the nation. Jungkook oohs and aahs while also making sounds of dismay at the appropriate moments. He’s a great listener; he’s super involved in the conversation and makes you feel important as though what you’re sharing deserves to get heard. You’re not sure how much of it is an act he’s putting on for your benefit to fulfill your wish and how much of it is him going above and beyond, but you greatly appreciate it. Today might just be the best day of your life. You’ve been treated like a queen the entire time. 
In exchange for sharing your little anecdotes you beg Jungkook to share something with you to keep the repartee going. With a groan he gives into you, and animatedly chats to you about the time he had a vampiress find his lamp.
You gasp loudly, “Vampires aren’t real Jungkook!” you can’t stop laughing. It’s a good thing you weren’t chewing because you would have spit out your fancy dinner all over the pristine white table cloth.
He wags his eyebrows at you with a cocky smirk painting his lips, “Oh? Are you sure? I mean I’m a genie, Y/N. It would make sense for there to be other magical beings besides me. I wasn’t born into existence as a genie, I was created.”
“Yeah,” you murmur softly, is this your moment to ask Jungkook how it had all begun? “Jungkook, I—”
 “Monsieur, mademoiselle,” one of the servers had returned with your desserts in tow, intruding on your conversation, “crème brulée à la lavande.”
He places two leaf shaped cream colored ramekins in front of the pair of you. You hum in astonishment as you take in the delectable looking lavender infused crème brulée with the browned sugar crust and the decorative buds of lavender on top. It smells faintly floral and you just know that when you taste it, your tongue is going to be in heaven, tasting the delicate yet complex layers to the dish.
Jungkook smirks at you cockily before he spoons up a sizable scoop of the crème and pulls it into his mouth, his lips pursing around the utensil until he sucks off all the dessert on the ladeled part. He hums his pleasure as his tongue rolls around in his mouth, sucking in the taste of the rich cream and the sweet sugar that is roped through it. His eyelids turn heavy and you have to suck in a breath when you realize this is probably what Jungkook would look like if he ate you out and was savoring the taste of your juices on his velvety lush tongue. 
You’re flustered but you can’t let him have the upperhand. You pick up the little dessert spoon and tap on the sugar crust, cracking it softly before you carefully scoop some of the confection onto your utensil, making sure to get both the hardened sugar and the smooth cream underneath.
You moan around it as you close your mouth with the first bite. You’re in heaven, you’re not sure you have ever had anything that was quite as rich or decadent as this before in your life. The velvety texture of the crème brulée swamps your tongue while the sugar melts into it from the heat of your warm, lush mouth. Your senses are heightened as you can taste every single ingredient that has gone into the dish and you inhale sharply before letting out another soft moan of satisfaction.
You wrap your lips around the spoon as you twirl your tongue around it to make sure you’ve gotten every last bit of the dessert off of it before you release from your mouth with a light pop. There’s a gossamer thread of spit connecting your lip to the spoon so you quickly dart your tongue out to break it. The male next to you shudders lightly, his breath hitches raggedly as he glares at you with hard eyes that have gone dark from the heat of his debauched desires. 
“Y/N,” he warns, groaning lightly, his tongue nearly poking a hole through his cheek in his irritation.
“Hmm?” you reply with faux innocence, determined to play with fire tonight. You don’t want to get burned tonight, oh no, you want much much more than that. You want to get consumed by the flames that have Jungkook within their hold.
You continue to eat up your crème brulée slowly, savoring each and every carefully scooped spoonful. Your tongue rolls in your mouth after each bite as you try to lick up all of the cream from the crevices before you go in for the next spoon. You’re not playing up your reactions by any means; it’s so delicious and rich, meant to be relished. And Jungkook is, figuratively, eating up all of the noises slipping between your plump sugar covered lips. His jaw is tight, lips thinned into a harsh line as he heatedly glares at you.
“It seems to me like you want something else to draw out those little pathetic sounds from your throat,” Jungkook grates, “until, perhaps, they are full blown moans of ecstasy.”
You still when you feel his long sinuous fingers gripping into the soft flesh of your exposed thigh. His palm is feverishly hot against your skin and Jungkook takes advantage of the fact that you’re wearing a mini dress to push your thighs apart and slip his hand in between. 
“Ju-Jungkook,” you stammer, letting your spoon clank against the ramekin where there’s still more than half of the dessert left. Your hands go to where his is cupping your cunt through the diaphanous black mesh thong you’re wearing from Agent Provocateur, you pull at his arm and attempt to take it off but you’re unable to shake the grip he has on you as his fingers stroke lines against the seam to your cunt through the thin, ineffective barrier of your panties. The pad of his index finger runs its path up and down until your pussy lips feel swollen, the folds sensitive and inflamed, as you slowly wet the mesh material until it’s practically invisible from how drenched it becomes. 
“What are you doing?” he hisses, his tone both gruff and lethal. “Get your hands off of me.” 
Your insides warm as you get aroused from his harshness and you let your hands fall off from where they were still attempting to pull him away. You already had a flush from the wine earlier heating your skin but now the blood crawls up your chest and rushes to your cheeks for a different reason.
“Don’t you have a dessert to eat, Y/N?” Jungkook mocks, pausing his fingers’ wickedly dexterous pursuit.
“I-I,” you stutter, “Y-y-yes, Jungkook.”
Your body was turned 90 degrees so that you could face him but when he raises an eyebrow that means ‘Get on with it,’ you instantly turn back around to properly face the dinner table and pick up your spoon from the ramekin with a shaking hand. You scoop up some of the dessert into your mouth and nervously close your lips around it, hyper aware of everything that is happening around you, on the tether hooks as you wait with bated breath for Jungkook’s next move.
He pinches your clit, invoking a squeal to slip out of your mouth as your walls flutter around nothing, clenching in dismay. “Why so silent, Y/N? Aren’t you enjoying your dessert? I think I’m going to feast on you though.”
“Mmpfh,” you moan behind clenched teeth, hurriedly swallowing down the velvety cream and spooning up another bite to place into your mouth, “It’s so good, Jungkook,” you gasp breathlessly.
“Good,” Jungkook grunts into your ear, he’s halfway out his chair, his body stretching over the small distance between your seats. His chest is digging into your shoulder and he has an arm, the one whose digits aren’t currently focused on stroking you into madness, wrapped around your back so that he can slip it around the front and hold your neck in it’s grip, squeezing it lightly in warning. Your breath catches in your throat and you gulp, able to feel every cold curve of each individual metal ring on his fingers lightly pressing into your skin. 
“You want to keep eating, Y/N?” Jungkook murmurs, hot breath tickling your ear as his lips brush against it before he pulls your delicate lobe between his teeth. 
“N-No!” you protest.
“Oh?” He quips. His voice has gone low and raspy, the tenor of his tone licking flames in the pit of your stomach, causing your nerves to tingle from anticipation, “Got something else in mind for dessert, princess?”
You pause hesitantly. The words are stuck in your throat.
“Go on, Y/N, tell me what my bratty spoiled princess really wants for dessert,” Jungkook growls, removing his long nimble fingers from the wet heat of your cunt when you don’t answer him.
Your hands immediately fly down, pressing down on his to keep it trapped between your warm palms and your waxed, bare mons. “You, Jungkook. You,” you wail, “I want you for dessert.”
“I thought so,” murmurs the genie silkily. He removes his hand from your throat, his thumb rubbing circles into the delicate flesh before his fingers move away to tuck a wayward lock of hair behind your ear. He unwinds his arm from around you, choosing to grip your chin, tilting your mouth up before meeting your lips in a fervent messy embrace.
It’s more desperate than sensual, a frantic clashing of lips as your tongues tangle with each other and your teeth almost knock against each other from the brutal force of the kisses. Jungkook drags your plump lower lip into his mouth, his teeth lightly nipping on it while he sucks until it feels raw and battered. His hand is tangled into your hair and he’s gripping on those locks tightly to maneuver your head in the exact position he wants. You ignore the pain erupting from your scalp as your palms freely roam the length of his upper body, slipping under the thin cotton T-shirt he had on to rake your long acrylic nails against his warm, muscled back. Your fingers travel up to his broad shoulders, gripping them under his shirt until you leave little crescent indentations from your nails on his flesh.
Jungkook shifts his lips from yours as he leaves you gulping for air, struggling to catch your breath. “My fucking selfish princess has bitten off more than she can chew on her quest to feast on everything she possibly can,” he murmurs, his hot breath fans over your cheek before he softly nips on the plumpest part of it. When you gasp at the sting, his tongue immediately darts out to soothe the pain as he licks up the side of your face messily. “Baby, you made a deal with the devil for these wishes,” he rumbles.
Your dress barely covers your chest which hectically heaves as Jungkook trails suctioning, bruising kisses down the length of your throat on the path to your breasts. The shimmery wine red cloth is barely hanging on to you as your hardening nipples struggle to keep them in position acting as the only thing holding them in place. The slippery cloth has almost fallen down several times, and you are millimeters away from suddenly exposing your entire upper half to the birds that are flying around as you sit on your sky high dinner date.
Jungkook’s strong agile fingers pull at the fabric as his mouth finds the large exposed expanse of cleavage available to him. He gently presses his lips on your soft warm skin before he parts them to leave hard open mouthed kisses on your breasts. When he’s finally able to get a strong enough purchase on the dress that he can pull it down to your waist, he deftly plucks the nude silicon pads off and flings them into the night sky before wrapping his lips against one of your hardened peaks.
His fingers are strumming at its twin while Jungkook sucks and sucks at your nipple like he thinks that he can get it to leak if he tries hard enough. That thought makes you still. An impregnation kink? You had never thought of it before but the thought of Jungkook fucking you with the sole purpose of breeding you and making you round and luminous as you carry his children, your breasts large and your curves plumper and softer than before has your heart beating loudly and erratically in your chest.
“Hey,” he complains when he notices you've gotten sidetracked in your thoughts. He bites down on your furled bud to draw back your attention, “Where did you go? Someone’s getting greedy. Do you need more, princess? Do you need me to do more so you’ll pay attention to me?”
“I,” you stammer. But Jungkook ignores you, he uses both of his hands to maneuver your skin clinging dress over your hips and then he tucks two fingers into the thin ribboned band of your underwear, pulling it away from your heated skin until the delicate mesh falls apart from his use of force, getting ripped straight off of your cunt. His jaw absentmindedly falls open a little as takes in the sight of your glistening pussy folds. 
“Oh, baby, you’re so pretty,” he murmurs. 
He plunges his middle finger in, going deep within your core as he curls it up, pumping within you so furiously that you can hear loud squelching sounds coming from your gushing pussy.
“Jung-Jungkook,” you whine. You need more. You need to be stuffed. “Jungkook, I can take more!” The last word comes out as a scream when he suddenly thrusts his ring finger and pinky inside you too. All three digits are assailing your insides, your core tightens around them, clenching hard but it doesn’t stop his intensity as he makes a complete mess of your pussy, wetness gushing out and dripping on your seat, trailing down your parted thighs. 
He has the side of his face pressed against your chest, your stiffened tips poking harshly into his right cheek as he glances downwards at the wreckage he’s created from the fruits of his labor. Your head is bent with your chin tucked on top of his crop of dark cyan hair, your long tumbling locks of hair falling forward to hide your expression as Jungkook makes you lose your mind underneath him.
“Your clit is so swollen, sweet girl, do you want me to rub it?” He asks, turning towards your breasts, rubbing his face into them, his nose tickling the valley between them. 
“Yes, Jungkook,” you urge breathlessly, “Please.”
His thumb and forefinger pinches that little sensitive bead, rolling it in between them before rubbing it side to side in a rapid, furious pace. “Or maybe it’s still not enough,” Jungkook wonders, “Do you want my head buried between those thighs as you ride your way to release or do you want my cock pounding you into submission, baby?”
Your mouth is hanging open, you can barely think, let alone put together a string of words that will have Jungkook satisfied with your reply. “Jungkook,” you pant, “I need—”
“Monsieur Jeon?” the waiter inquires after returning.
You still immediately, your head bending even further to conceal your body with your hair though you are already covered by Jungkook’s body on top of yours.
“Yes, Pierre,” Jungkook murmurs, not moving his face away from the comfort of your breasts. You hadn’t even realized that had been the name of your server.
“If you and mademoiselle are done with your dinners we can take you back to the ground.”
“Yes, thank you, Pierre. We would appreciate that.”
“I will go inform the team,” Pierre acquises, “Would you like for me to get more wine as we make our way down?”
“I think we are fine for now,” assures Jungkook. 
When the staff finally leaves you push Jungkook off of you, straightening up your dress, pulling it over your breasts and tugging it down to cover your bottom again. 
Jungkook merely smirks, purring, “You’re changing your tune so soon, princess? I take it you don’t want for things to continue when we’re on the ground then?”
You stiffly cross your arms over your chest, using them as supports under your breasts to hold onto the dress and keep it from slipping down and making you expose yourself to all of the sky high restaurant’s crew since Jungkook had gotten rid of your bra pads.
“Did you have to do that?” you demand.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, princess,” Jungkook fibs.
You roll your eyes, “It’s not enough that every time we do something it’s in public but you’ve started to destroy my underwear too.”
“Oh relax, Y/N,” Jungkook coaxes, “Your rack is spectacular and will be doing a more than great job of holding up your dress. You have nothing to worry about. And even if you did ever expose yourself to anyone you didn’t want to, I would just erase their memories for you.”
“My hero,” you simper sarcastically, tugging on his right ear.
The male narrows his eyes at you, consideringly. His front teeth nip at his bottom lip and you know that you’ve gotten yourself in trouble again as Jungkook thinks up ways to get back at you during the descent of the restaurant. 
When you are finally back touching solid ground, you are able to messily untangle yourself from the harnesses that kept you secured to your seat. You almost fall flat on the ground when you gingerly step off the platform you two had been eating on, towards the cracked pavement of the empty lot. Your legs had turned into jelly during their time up in the air, it’s a combination of vertigo and your legs still being shaky from having you edged to an orgasm that was woefully stolen away from you.
Jungkook immediately catches you in his arms, peering down at you softly before coming to a decision. He lowers himself, bending down to wrap his arms around your back and thighs more securely, before picking you up in a bridal carry. Your breath gets caught in your throat as you stare back at him after hesitantly locking your arms around his thick neck.
“So,” he hedges, moving his face forward so that he can nudge at your plump cheeks with his nose. “Should the night end here princess?” he asks, “Or do you want the fun to continue when we get back home?”
“Yes, please,” you quietly beg.
Jungkook gently brushes his lips against your forehead before escorting the two of you home in a whirlwind cloud of gold dust before you two suddenly reappear in the hallway in front of the two of your rooms.
“Are we sleeping in different rooms tonight?” Jungkook inquires, just to check that your mind hasn’t changed within the last two minutes.
“Take me to your bed,” you softly urge the genie as you upturn your face, your nose nudging against the thin scar across his left cheek. He swiftly traipses forward, his long legs reaching his door in one effortless stride. 
His room is similar to yours except his bed is bigger, you notice with envy, and his furniture appears to be made of black colored iron unlike the white painted pieces in your room. He sets you down in front of him as he goes to close the door.
“Jungkook, babe,” you call out to his back. He raises an eyebrow as he turns to face you again. “Can you help me with my zipper? It’s a little hard for me to get it down.”
The slim invisible zipper to your deep burgundy shimmery dress is located right on the topmost part of your ass since it’s a mostly backless piece. Jungkook crowds you from behind, his massive frame enveloping yours as his long deft fingers go to zip you down. You shudder as his knuckles brush against the warm sensitive skin of your back, each touch sending a lighting bolt of attraction shooting up your spine while causing arousal to pool between your thighs. When the zipper is halfway down, resting on the swell of your ass, you step out of his hold. 
You turn around to face him as you pull down on the thin straps of the dress, letting them hang around your elbows as your bust works overtime to keep the dress up. With a twisted smirk painting your plush lips, you shimmy out of the glittery wine colored fabric, letting it pool around your Saint Laurent encased feet before stepping out of the circle of clothing lying on the ground. You lithely stalk towards Jungkook, your hair a sexy mess around your shoulders, curling into your breasts and brushing against your nipples as you make your way to the genie, completely nude since he had gotten rid of all of your underwear a while back.
Jungkook’s eyes softly shutter close as you finally reach him, his eyelids fluttering as he raggedly takes in a deep breath. You look utterly divine wearing only gold jewelry and your long strappy black heels that make your sun kissed limbs look miles long. You wrap your arms around his thick neck, pressing your heaving breasts against his hard pectoral muscles, “Jungkook?”
His hands grip onto your hips pulling your smooth crotch against his clothed one as he backs the two of you into the door. His hard pulsating cock is pressed against your slit and it makes you whimper when you shift and the zipper to his pants hits your clit. He secures his arms across your ass, pushing you up into his hold, making your toes tip because even in your heels you’re unable to be face to face with him. The man is sexily and inconveniently tall. Balancing all of your weight on your toes and Jungkook’s arms, you stretch so that your face is aligned with his and you can comfortably kiss him. Your teeth grab for his plump lower lip and pull it between yours so you can suck on that lush flesh, agitating it so it becomes red, wet, and swollen.
A subtle growl starts low in Jungkook’s chest as he pushes your body even further up and as you lose your footing you tangle a leg around Jungkook’s hips. His other hand moves up to roughly capture your jaw in its hold, locking you in position as he aggressively meets your lips back. His kisses are greedy and all-consuming; Jungkook kisses you like he’s a starving man and you are his first meal in a long time. His hand, the one that's gently hanging by your ass, starts to knead the supple flesh and your breath catches in your throat as you let out a choked gasp. His fingers are right by your puckered sensitive hole and you’re reminded of the fantasy you had had the night before he came into your life. Of a man touching and stroking you there in that forbidden orifice and working you up. 
Meanwhile, his mouth is busy; his tongue is prodding its way past your lips, slipping in and licking a torrid path in the lush cavern of your mouth. It’s agile and long, and the strong wet muscle twirls with your own, easily taking control of your mouth. The sounds slipping out of both of your lips as you continuously meet each other for more and more impassioned kisses are obscene; they’re loud wet sounds of fervent hunger that grow more frantic as the kisses persist.
Your core is clenching around nothing and it has you rutting against Jungkook’s crotch like a bitch in heat, leaving a dark damp patch on the black fabric of his dressy joggers. Jungkook stops stroking and squeezing your ass to pull your other leg around his hips until your stiletto heels are digging into his butt and you are wrapped entirely around his body like a koala. He backs away from the door, his lips breaking apart from yours so he can look where he is walking and carrying you. You are still kissing him though; your lips have trailed down to kiss and bite along his jaw and neck, you even let yourself suck on his Adam’s apple which has him gulping and your lips stretching into a smirk against the flushed smooth flesh  of his throat, as you can feel every movement underneath the delicate skin.
He carefully drops you onto the bed, taking precaution not to fall over with you and crush you underneath his weight. You stare up at him, wide-eyed as your lips part with hunger and surprise at the change in position. His large doe eyes have gone black with lust, becoming heavy lidded as they travel up the entire length of your body with lazy glances. 
He steps in between your parted legs, his hands curling around your soft meaty thighs, dimpling into them with the pressure from his fingertips. “Let me eat you out?” he asks huskily, his tenor sounding ragged and raspy.
“Please,” you beg with wide eyes shining with lust. Your legs part even more to let Jungkook see just how wet your folds are.
He sinks to his knees before you, holding down on your thighs as he lowers himself to the ground. He places a flurry of light open mouth kisses against your soft thighs as he nudges them apart and pulls you forward so that your ass hangs off the bed and he can throw your legs over his shoulders. Your Saint Laurent encased limbs spasm against his back and the pointed heels dig into his white T-shirt making him grunt as he falls forward a little. 
You let out a pained whine when you notice Jungkook manages to catch himself right before he faceplants onto your cunt. He slowly lowers his face, nose tenderly nudging at your slit before he purses his lips and kisses at your folds. He gently mouths at the petals of oversensitive and swollen flesh, softly lapping at the juices that cling to them. You let out a shrill, frenzied moan when he flattens his tongue against your core, licking long and hot fat stripes down the opening. Your fingers snake into his damp indigo colored locks, drenched from his sweat, scratching your acrylic nails against his scalp as you attempt to push him down further into your crotch. 
He slides his hands up your warm thighs making your muscles contract at the sensation before he grabs onto your hips, guiding their motion with his grip. He lets you rock against his mouth frantically, opening his jaw wide as your juices that he’s unable to capture drip down his chin. You wail, letting out a desperate sob as he buries his face deeper into your cunt licking and slurping like a man maddened from lust. His nose juts against your swollen inflamed clit as his teeth clamp down lightly on your folds and pull at them gently, making you convulse and twitch as you mindlessly shove your pussy against him. 
“Is this good, sweet girl,” he murmurs huskily, “Is this what you wanted?”
He brushes his plush lips over your clit, teasing you, tempting you until he has your laser focus drawn to what he is doing. It’s then that he starts working on that hyper responsive bundle of nerves, teasing that little bead with flicks of his tongue, hard focused snaps of his wet muscle against the overworked bud. He’s giving you everything; his mouth wrapping around your clit, his lips gently pressing against it in faux respite, his teeth nipping it to draw out cries, and his tongue manipulating it to make you turn feral. He’s got you in the palm of his hand and it makes him realize that he’s been neglecting you in perhaps the most important way.
“Is,” his tongue jabs into your core, “This,” his teeth clamp down on your clit, inducing tears to spring from your eyes, “Good,” he slurps at your arousal noisily, repeating the question.
You frantically nod in his direction before you realize he can't see your expression with his face shoved into your pussy. “Ye-Yes,” you choke out, clearing your throat that's gone rough from the constant stream of screaming that Jungkook’s been able to pull from your lips. You think it subsides him but then he tilts his head in a calculating way that’s got you freezing against him.
He pulls away to draw your attention back to his face, you glance at him with glazed over eyes that are confused yet frustrated. Staring right at you with sleepy, hooded lids, he holds your gaze as he runs his index finger up and down your fluttering core, gathering up your juices on top of his finger, using the transparent ropes of arousal to coat his finger, lubricating it before he plunges it into you. 
“Jungkook,” your legs spasm over his shoulders as you accidentally hit his back with one of your high heels. “I’m gonna c— I’m gonna COME! I can’t— I can’t take much more of THIS!” Your hips raise up from the bed as you squirm, fucking his finger into you since he hasn’t started moving it yet. 
He stares at you consideringly, “Fuck my fingers Y/N,” he raspily commands, “Fuck yourself to completion.”
You still, momentarily unnerved but Jungkook uses his thumb to flick the nail of his middle finger against your clit, which not only pulls out an embarrassing keen from your mouth but also spurs you into action, rocking your hips in fluid motions as your core takes in the entire length of his index finger.
You whine in frustration, complaining, “Jungkook, this isn’t enough!”
“I’d say make it enough,” the male responds, “If I hadn’t been tempting you all night long. Consider yourself lucky, princess.” And with that Jungkook shoves three more fingers in you, pumping them into you impressively faster and harder than he had ever teased you before, almost inserting half his hand, a centimeter into his palm as well, into the cunt he stretched out during dinner. It’s a good thing he thought to do that since you would be struggling when he finally took you. 
Your vision turns white as your eyes almost roll backwards and your teeth chatter, knocking into each other due to the violent intensity at which Jungkook was impaling your pussy with his fingers. Your thighs quake uncontrollably as you’re finally pushed to the brink. With your voice crescendoing into a needlessly long and cacophonously loud scream, you reach an earth shattering climax, slumping down onto the bed, your legs twitching absentmindedly.  
The male gets off of his knees, the bottom half of his face is still glistening with the remnants of your arousal. He stretches, his broad shoulders getting rolled back, before he one-handedly pulls off his fitted white tee in a decidedly sexy manner. Your eyes immediately shift to his bare upper half when you hear the clink of metal and you find yourself staring at, for the first time, his golden waist chain. The gossamer strands of metal are wrapped around his thin, sun bronzed waist, practically blinding you with the shine from their yellow color that glitters as it moves with every flow and shift of Jungkook’s body. 
Jungkook doesn’t let the chain hold your attention for too long, immediately distracting you as he unbuttons and undoes the fly on his dark cargo joggers. He lets the fabric hang loose around his hips as he palms his massive shaft though the black cotton of his Balenciaga boxer briefs. He rubs the bulbous tip of his cock through the thin fabric of his underwear as he toes off his imposing spiky heeled Chelsea boots. Once the shoes are off, he gently tugs on his pants, letting them pool around his ankles and stepping out of them.
He walks towards you almost nude except for the briefs that cling to his muscley thick thighs and show how pronounced his dick is as it struggles to pop out from behind the band. There is a cocky smirk painting his lovely coral colored Cupid’s bow and his nicely shaped eyebrows quirk in challenge as he steps in your direction. You groan in impatience and need as he stands in front of you, legs spread hips’ length apart. A light chuckle sounds from behind the plush lip he’s biting hard as he pushes down on the black elastic band of the underwear and his massive cock, which you have only felt against you but never seen before this moment, bounces out from the confines. He’s larger than you dreamed he could be, and you know better than to assume that Jungkook, fiercely competitive and authentic as he is, would increase the size with magic. 
Your hips are already subconsciously gyrating against the air as you take him in with a slackened jaw and numbly hanging open mouth. It’s girthy and twitching lightly, slightly bouncing as it stands proud free from the confines of pants and underwear. The mushroom tip is swollen and flushed a dark berry red. The thick protruding vein you wanna nibble on, runs along the underside of the cock and is more pronounced, becoming easier for you to see, when he holds up the shaft to rub at its bulbous head to work precum out of it, make the white viscous liquid bead from the tip. 
His cock is fucking pretty, and you want to suck on it, but a quick glance at the male reveals that he’s too impatient to let you do that now and just wants you to take him in. You can’t blame him after he’s gotten you off about half a dozen times over the course of the day without having blown off some steam himself. 
The tattoos along his arm seem to pop against his sun kissed skin as he strokes his cock which swells at the stimulation. “Ready princess?” he asks quietly.
“Please.” You beg a repetition of the one word that always finds its way easily to your lips when Jungkook is working you up. 
He guides his cock to your gushing slit, brushing the mushroom head against your folds, rubbing it into them causing his precum and your arousal to combine and mix. He slaps his head against your clit a few times before he deems you sufficiently drenched and ready to take him in. He slowly presses the round tip into your folds, hunting for your opening, his veiny hand guiding his shaft’s path. Slowly it breaches you, causing your mouth to fall open as a sex crazed look takes over your features. You moan a long, wanton sound at the intrusion, even though Jungkook took his time preparing you, it’s been more than a year since you’ve fucked anyone. With one hand still directing his cock, he uses the other to grab your hip to gently lift it up so he can palm the small of your back and push you up towards him.
You meet him eagerly, squirming as you help him get you up, throwing your arms over his shoulders and holding onto his neck with a deathgrip. He slowly moves the hand from your back to run along your hip and then your thigh so that he can wrap your curvy leg around his hip. Pulling your leg up had another advantage as well, now he can more easily enter you and he slams into you, impaling you with his cock until he is fully sheathed and your waxed bare mons meet the nicely groomed dark patch of hair on his pubic bone, your pelvises flush against each other. 
You can feel the ridges of his shaft sliding along your walls as they clench around him, letting you feel every bump and vein. “A-Ah,” you stutter as a mewl slips from your panting lips. “Jung—JUNGKOOK,” you cry out as his cock twitches within you and the tip just barely hits that elusive g-spot.
“Fuck,” he grunts before a guttural moan breaks out of him. 
“God, princess. This is what you wanted all along didn’t you. The entire day you’ve been teasing me. Tempting me with those fucking sly smiles and suggestive looks. You didn’t want a fucking considerate boyfriend you wanted a rude libertine to blow your back out. Isn’t that right—princess,” he hisses through his clenched teeth.
You’re unable to answer him as he quickens the pace, slipping in and out of you furiously, taking his cock almost entirely out with only his fat tip in you before thrusting manically again, pounding into your pelvis, battering up your insides and making you turn into a boneless pile of goo.
You’re practically drooling at this point while your eyes are shiny from the tears that come from his frantic impaling as he jackhammers into you. Your mouth is hanging open and he smacks the ass cheeks he’s been gripping onto this entire time when you don’t give him a reply.
“This.” Smack. “Is.” Smack. “What.” Smack. “You.” Smack. “Wanted.” Smack. “Isn’t it, princess?” he growls, ending off with one last smack.
“Yes, Jungkook!” you sob, “This is what I wanted!” You’re inconsolable as he continues with the frenzied onslaught of sex. 
He hauls you up even further, he had one arm hugging your lower back as the other focused on keeping your thigh firmly locked around his waist and then you’re bouncing on his cock in midair, the metal of his waist chain poking into the soft skin of your tummy every time the two of you met into the middle. It’s a good thing he’s helping you stay attached to him because with the way he is bending you over, making your back arch as he attacks your breasts and neck with impassioned bites and kisses, you would have fallen right off of him without the extra support.
He makes his way up to your mouth, peppering your skin with sucking kisses before finally reaching it and wildly attacking your lips with his in a messy frenzy of teeth and tongue. After what seems like long interminable moments, he finally releases your lips with a wet pop. There’s still a string of saliva connecting the two of you that breaks when he parts open his mouth and whispers sweetly against yours, “That’s all you had to say, princess.”
He picks up the pace as he buries his face into your neck, dead set on leaving a bruising hickey that will remain for several days. You press your lips against his crown, his blue hair tickling your nostrils as you attempt to silence your cries against his scalp. His hold on you tightens like he never wants to let you go, keeping your sweaty body clinging to his, his biceps flexing as he grips onto you and jackhammers uncontrollably, losing all signs of rhyme or rhythm, just knowing that he wants to be buried in your heat forever.
“Say you want this,” he demands. “Say you want ME!” The last word is punctuated by a brutal thrust that hits your g-spot perfectly and has you crying into his hair. 
“I want you,” you sob, “God, I need you Jungkook.” Your breasts are heaving against his hard pecs, your nipples dragging along the smooth solid planes of his chest as you struggle to get your words out.
If you could have seen Jungkook’s eyes at that moment, you would have seen how they turned reddish black, the color of molten lava as a look of pure possessiveness took over his features. But since you can’t see his face, you’re unaware of how your genie is falling for you just as easily as you are falling for him. 
The loud sounds of his balls hitting your skin resound through the bedroom and Jungkook never lets down on the pace. He fucks you into submission as you hang off of him, jellylike with no control over your spasming limbs. Jungkook takes your well timed bout of flexibility to maneuver your legs off of his thighs to hang off his elbows as he wraps his arms around your knees and has them circle behind you. This new height and shift in position has his hip rolls drag his cock through your folds in a more enticing manner, working up your engorged clit with every pounding. You almost forget that he’s no longer hitting your g-spot as you shriek loudly, your poor clit sobbing at the new brutal onslaught of stimulation. 
“Jungkook,” you keen, “God, Jungkook. I don’t know how much further I can go.”
“I’m sure you’ll keep up,” he hums meanly, as he pistons his hips again and again. You’re writhing against him, barely able to roll your hips to meet his every thrust anymore. You feel like you just ran a marathon and you’re approaching the last yard. The end is near and you can sense it with how overheated your body becomes and how you wince and whimper at every move Jungkook makes, able to feel every drag of his magnificent cock through your core down to what feels like the cellular level. Your walls keep clenching onto him tighter and tighter as well, reluctant to release him from their hold and he finds himself putting in even more effort into every snap of his hips.
“You’re almost there aren’t you, sweet girl,” he mumbles against your throat, biting harshly along the delicate skin under your jaw and pulling at it with his front teeth. You can only let out a wordless amalgamation of sounds erupt from your throat as you moan. 
“Let me take you there, princess,” he mutters, “I’ll be your guide, darling.” He bucks into you one last time and he’s almost done it. He’s sent you there to that precipice. You’re hanging on the high but you need to come down. All it takes is one pinch from his clever fingers to your bruised clit as he bites down on your shoulder and you’re there, screaming as you hit your release, gushing around him like a broken sprinkler while Jungkook soothes the abused flesh with soft kitten licks from his tongue, his cool saliva covering the tender area like a balm. 
As you hang of his body, your head sagging against his chest, arms no longer bothering to hold onto his neck, the male lets a faint smile grace his lips, holding you up with his impressive strength, gently rocking his cock into your drenched folds a couple more passes over before he explodes inside of you, painting your walls with his hot viscous ropes of white cum. 
You’re practically asleep in his arms when he’s struggling to pull his shaft out of your fluttering folds that still want to keep it sheathed in their slick embrace, warming his cock with their heat, but he persists, gently dragging it out. The amount of cum that flows out from between your thighs after that is almost obscene. 
Jungkook looks back at his bed before glancing at the mess the two of you have created and decides that the best thing to do right now would be to magically make the liquid disappear before also cleaning you two up like you two had come straight out of a shower. Once your skin is glowing and clean, he gently lays your body down on the right side of his bed, carefully making sure that your head is correctly positioned on the fluffy pillow before covering up your nudity with the silk comforter. 
He walks over to the other side and slips easily into bed, facing the ceiling as he reclines next to you, pondering something. He seems to finally come to a decision and the lights flicker off, swamping the room in darkness, as he turns over to face you and drags your body into his so that your ass is pressed against his front. Throwing an arm and a leg over your form that is loose-limbed in slumber, the male comfortably spoons you before he plunges into sleep as well. 
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This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution - Non Commercial - No Derivatives 4.0 International License
©OPALJM 2021
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chateautae · a month ago
hotter than hell | jjk. (m)
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banner by miss solaris @jamaisjoons <3
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➵ summary : jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.
↳ part of the Namkook Moonrise Masquerade collab hosted by @jamaisjoons
➵ pairing : fallen lucifer!jungkook x human!reader
➵ genre : supernatural/fantasy!au, romance, e2l, road trip, angst, fluff, eventual smut, three-shot
➵ rating : 18+
➵ word count : 27k
➵ warnings : swearing, angst, alcohol consumption, semi-biblically-accurate depictions of angels and demons, supernatural themes, mentions and depictions of sin, s e x u a l  t e n s i o n, neck-kissing, straddling
➵ a/n : WHY HELLO EVERYONE here’s the demon lucifer jk as promised!! i stayed up an entire night just to create the plot, i hope it delivers!! it’s literally one of the my favourite ideas ever hehe. this is the first part of a three-shot :) please excuse any mistakes or error since I didn’t have a beta and will probably get someone to do so later 🤧 PLEASE IMAGINE MOTS ON:E DAY 1 MY TIME JUNGKOOK FOR THIS Y’ALL, enjoy!! <3
➵ playlist : asshole by hooligan chase
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| 01 | 02 | final. |
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‘Why is she looking at my man?’ 
‘I need to get blackout drunk.’
‘Damn, that girl is fucking hot.’
‘I’ll steal it when he isn’t looking.’
Jungkook’s head rings with an innumerable amount of others’ thoughts, and he can’t seem to silence the blaring volume of them at all.
He’s roaming in complete confusion, clutching his palms over his ears because shit, is everything just so loud. His feet hurt too, when have his feet ever hurt? Why can’t he fucking fly? Why does he suddenly feel so cold?
Jungkook’s bleary vision catches sight of neon signs and lights that invite head-splitting migraines. His usual leather outfit suddenly feels like it’s sticking to his skin too much, and what is this constant pang he feels in his stomach?
He doesn’t know, all he knows is that this isn’t hell, and he definitely should not be here. 
In all his thinking, his shoulder smacks into a passing stranger and he scolds them with stern eyes, only to ram into someone else yet again. 
Fuck, that hurt. Why did that hurt? When has he ever felt pain at all? Jungkook grunts in frustration as he weaves through passing bodies in the streets and eventually tumbles before a closed store. The second he looks through the window, his eyes widen in sheer horror. 
He’s.. he’s human? 
No, impossible. He can’t be human, where did his red eyes go? Why can’t he see his wings? He snaps quick glances at his shoulder blades and finds them empty, even reaching behind his back to only feel a seamless leather jacket. He looks at his hands and sees them just like his usual form, but when did he lose that natural, searing heat to his skin? 
Jungkook can’t think, he can’t understand what’s going on but can only comprehend one very obvious, almost laughable thing. 
He’s been cast out of hell. 
He laughs, then laughs some more because shit, is that goddamn funny, comedic, absolutely hysterical. Lucifer, the king of hell himself, has been cast out of his own kingdom? Sent to Earth as some measly blubbering, putrid human? 
The second Jungkook whips his head around to a horn honking, his equilibrium unbalanced itself, that incessant ringing in his ear returning. He feels too fucking dizzy, the axis of his entire world spinning. Groaning in dull pain, he begins stalking down the street with his clammy palm to his head. 
He bumps into more people and staggers, but he doesn’t care when he can still feel that same agonizing headache plaguing him. His eyesight begins to lose precision, and before he advances, he feels his knees buckle into the nearest alleyway. He drops to the ground hard, and his surroundings disappear before he feels his cheek meet the cold pavement. 
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Monday’s are so goddamn boring. 
Absolutely nothing is special about the dreadful day. All you ever desire is to crawl into a hole and slowly perish. And the only remedy to such an issue? At least to you, it would be a nice, steaming cup of coffee. 
But what absolutely trashes even the taste of coffee on a Monday?
The fact that it’s a Monday.
You drag your feet down the street, listless and exhausted after a tiresome day at work. You loosely clutch your bag over your shoulder as you trudge along, paying attention only squarely in front of you when suddenly, your feet ram into something. You almost trip over, furrowing your brows in confusion as you zero-in on the culprit. 
Once your vision becomes clear, you immediately squeal out in shock. You look carefully to find a man lying unconscious nearby a dumpster, appalled by the disgusting trash that litters the area next to him. 
You step slowly towards the stranger, finding that he’s actually quite… handsome. No, scratch that, he is drop-dead gorgeous, his looks almost too devilishly attractive. He appears fairly young to you as well, maybe the same age as you. You scan his outfit next and find him in a quite showy leather outfit; black boots, sheer-patterned shirt that exposed his body, hair flawlessly framing his face. 
You could’ve believed he was a fallen angel, his almost ethereal aura screaming of an existence far from here. His face structure is almost perfectly crafted from the finest marble, his nose looks boopable and his adorable lips naturally fall into this charming pout. 
Though his cuteness was not to be taken head-on, because you could only imagine what such a beautiful man’s eyes look like, and what allure remained hidden within them. 
You shake your head out of the compromising thoughts, swallowing as you contemplate what to do next. The most logical thing would be to call 911, that would help him out the most, wouldn’t it?
You whip out your phone and tap your screen, only to gain no response. You quirk your brows, clicking your power button and finding your device completely drained of battery. You groan with a roll of your eyes, too shy to inquire another stranger on the street for their phone.
Weighing on the decision that the stranger most likely has a phone, you bite your lip before squatting down by him. You precariously reach into his jacket and gently search for any pockets inside, only met with empty ones. You target his leather pants next and surprisingly come up dry of a phone or wallet, no keys or even a damn stick of gum. 
That leaves you with a real head-scratcher. The stranger seems to have absolutely nothing on him, now suddenly curious of whether or not he's even dead or alive. Heart quickening at the prospect of this being a dead body, you nervously gulp as you carefully take his wrist, and place two fingers against his pulse point. 
You thankfully feel a faint heartbeat and release a breath of relief, thinking quickly on your feet. You couldn’t just leave the stranger to fend for himself, it was already cold tonight and God knows what would happen to him without any of his necessary belongings. 
On a whim and out of sheer concern for the man’s well-being, you decide to haul a cab and take him home with you, hoping to also treat that nasty wound on his cheek. 
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Jungkook feels his consciousness resurfacing, head heavy, legs weighing a ton. His eyes flutter open to a white ceiling, darting around to find himself not on the street, not in hell, but inside a quaint apartment.
He furrows his brows, rubbing lazily at an eye once he does a quick once over of the place. He sincerely doesn’t understand where he is or what he’s doing here, but right now his head is still pounding too hard to even contemplate his next move. 
Sitting up, he swallows to find his throat desert-dry, stomach producing this weird gurgling sound he can’t piece together an answer for, and his eyes feel this hefty weight behind his lids. 
With a sigh, he rises to his feet, steadying himself. He sighs at just how annoyingly human he is, feeling the sensation of his legs aching, his neck adopting a crook from being awkwardly perched on the couch’s armrest, even his cheek stinging with something. 
He touches the afflicted area and instead finds some sort of cloth taped over him, wondering what in the hell it is. He touches it some more, and applies pressure only to hiss at his wound, rolling his eyes at the sensation of pain. 
With a deep exhale to release the frustration from his body, Jungkook notices he can still feel the fiery pits of hell coursing through his veins. That hot flame is still alive inside him, something heated still within his blood and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do something about it. With a focused mind and a composed breath, Jungkook attempts to revisit the very first, innate thing about his older form, imagining conjuring up his red, glowing eyes. 
He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, and envisions them glowing crimson before he opens them again, feeling a smoldering heat spark in his irises. He spots a mirror by the front door of the apartment and peers at himself, finding his eyes a vibrant, almost fiery red. 
He smirks, proud and satisfied. He’s still got it in him and he’ll be fucked six ways from Sunday if anyone can tell him otherwise. Feeling confident and alive, Jungkook attempts to conjure up some flames in his palms. Lo and behold, after a tense second of undivided focus, a fire gushes open in his bare hands. It feels just like when he’s perched on his throne in hell, Jungkook cracking another smug grin at the power he still holds. 
In that moment however, he hears the distinct clatter of something tumbling to the ground, and whips around to the noise. He shockingly finds a human woman staring at him in utter terror, hand clutched to her heart with her phone on the ground, and cowering into the wall as she shakes profusely. 
You’re stunned, flabbergasted, downright terrified out of your wits seeing the same man you found unconscious in the street now with fire flushing out of his hands. You see him begin to approach you and you’re overridden with fear, screaming at the unnatural sight before you. 
You scream, you scream and scream and look around for objects of any sort. You spot a small bottle of body spray on your hallway counter and immediately fling it towards the man for defence. 
“Get away from me, get away!” 
“Woah, hey, hey! Calm down!” 
But you don’t, and you instead throw other obscure and heavy objects towards him only for him to either burn or dodge them, eliciting even more of your panic. He’s getting closer as he attempts to pacify you, darting by him and running directly towards your kitchen.
Your frazzled brain isn’t thinking and you immediately fling open a cabinet, reaching for the very first thing you see and rapidly grasp a pan. You hold it up ready for punishing the man before he scrambles and hushes your ear-splitting shrills, holding up his hands in surrender. 
“Wait, wait, stop! Shh!” 
“How can I not scream when your eyes are literally red?!” 
Jungkook struggles for a sentence. “Look, just, shh. You’re gonna alarm the people in your building!” 
“That’s the fucking point?! You’re a maniac!” You yell and grab open your drawer of utensils, beginning to chuck forks and spoons at the frantic man. 
“Hey, stop! Would you-stop throwing shit!” Jungkook yells frustratedly as you send him a scowl, only catapulting things harder in response. But suddenly, Jungkook burns a butter knife you haul his way, and fearfully watching it melt right before your eyes. They widen in absolute horror.
You’re seriously, and very horribly fucked.
Panic invades your chest and you spot your phone lying on the ground near your bedroom door, quickly bolting towards it in hopes of calling 911, or at least somebody for help. You dive towards the floor and snatch up your device, racing mind unable to sift through contacts efficiently enough before you feel strong arms quickly caging around you. The stranger traps your wriggling body as he attempts to grab at your phone, yelling angrily. 
“Are you insane?! Why are you calling someone?!” 
“Because you’re a fucking maniac!” 
You struggle against the man’s burly hold and flail around hopelessly, utterly panicking realizing how strong he is.  
Screams escape you as you useslessly fight each other on the floor, incessantly attempting to weaken his grasp. The man with much larger hands than yours however nabs your phone and tosses it into your room somewhere, attempting to hush you as you squeal and kick at him profusely. 
“Stop it, stop! I can explain myself!” 
“I don’t want to hear your fucking evil plan before you kill me!” 
The man’s arms are still, curled around you and hugging your back to his chest, but it’s not a warm welcome at all as he keeps you from escaping, all while you holler incoherently at him to release you. You grow tired of the shenanigans and stuff the meat of his hand in between your teeth, sinking them in with enough force to harm him. The man exclaims in pain as his arms detangle from you. 
“Ow! What the fuck?!” 
You rapidly rise to your feet in search of your phone. It’s laying near your bed and you scamper off towards it, bending down with a grabby hand to reach it, but suddenly feel the man’s heavy figure hurtle you onto the bed. You both tumble onto your mattress, the handsome stranger on top as he locks down your thrashing hands, eyes urgent as he regards you below. 
“Woman, please, please stop screaming.” He warns crucially. “I’m not someone people can know about, we’ll both get in shit!” 
“By who? You’re the only freak here!” You wiggle your smaller wrist out of his grip and reach over for a stray cushion on your bed. You feel the fleecy material in your hand and harshly begin smacking the man with the pillow. 
“Oh c’mon-what the fuck?!” You disarm him completely as he falters at your hits, the stranger toppling onto the ground as you recklessly beat the living hell out of him. 
He crosses his arms over his face in an effort to protect himself, knowing even if you run now, the man seemed strong and smart enough to capture you again; two deadly combinations that could mean your demise. So you decide to keep senselessly whacking the cushion at him until he eventually tires, and you’ll make a break for it, or Mr. and Mrs. Tran next door will most likely come to your rescue. 
You stand above him and yell profanities as you practically abuse the stranger with your pillow. However, the man latches a hand onto the pillow to halt you and causes the cheap material to completely tear open. Feather’s instantly fly out of the cushion and fill your room with white fluffiness, groaning in complaint at the mess. 
You disregard the $4 ripped-up thing, and return to smacking at the man with the pillow cover. 
“Why. The. Fuck. Did you. Rip. My. PILLOW?!” You howl between each of your attacks and the man struggles on the ground as he exclaims in pain, blinded and barely able to shout in return. 
“Are you fucking kidding me?! Why are you beating me up?!” 
“Says the one who ripped my pillow and tried to murder me!” 
“I’m not even-what!” The stranger shrieks in disbelief. “I never tried to murder you! I didn’t do anything wrong!” 
That response actually halts your actions, freezing once you truly contemplate the stranger didn’t try to exactly kill you or anything, and you’re then in fact assaulting him for no concrete reason. As your easily distracted mind wanders, the man suddenly pulls at your legs with grabby hands. You squeal as you suddenly land on top of his rather muscular body, crashing onto him hard. 
Funny enough, you end up apologizing for settling over him so roughly. “Oh my God, I’m so-” 
“Shh, shh.” The man pushes his index fingers to your lips and his own, shushing you both. There’s a long moment of silence, both you and the albeit, gorgeous man staring into each other’s round eyes as your chests press into each other’s tightly, feathers slowly cascading down around your entangled bodies. 
You swallow as you watch the man underneath you in fear, wondering why he hushed you. You open your mouth to question him but he only shakes his head, warning you with a hush again. 
“Shh, I hear footsteps.” 
Suddenly, your front door is racked with a few hard raps. 
“Who’s-” The man begins a question but you immediately smack your hands over his mouth, silencing him. 
“Shh, don’t say anything!” 
He removes your dainty hands from his lips and surprisingly holds them quite gently. “But is it the police-” 
You clasp them over his mouth tighter, your face and his suddenly mere inches from each other as you tut him. “Shh! They can’t hear another voice!” 
“Honey! Are you in there?” 
You both pause, wide-eyed and frozen in time as you hear the voices of the nice couple that live next door to you. Your fight or flight mode kicks in, stress hormones on high alert as you register the idea of them seeing a random man in your apartment. 
Let alone you on top of him like this.
They’ll assume the worst and get too worried for their own good, sighing with immense anxiety. You rapidly scramble off the leather-wearing stranger and snatch up his wrist, quickly tugging him upwards and onto his feet. He balances himself and you quickly shove him onto your tousled sheets and disorderly feathers. 
“Look, just-stay here.” You hiss in a whisper, gesturing to him to stay put like a pet dog as you rapidly kick some stray feathers that escaped into the hallway inside your bedroom. You fix your outfit with a few strokes and begin shutting the door to hide the man, until he suddenly calls you back with a whisper-yell. 
“Wait, woman!” 
You poke your head back in with an incredulous ‘what the fuck?’, and the man rises as he steps speedily towards you. His hands jut out for what you believe to be in effort to harm you, but instead find your hair and smooth down some of your wild locks, even picking out a fuzzy piece of feather that stuck to your bangs. 
“Oh..” You quietly exclaim, running your hands through your hair for a quick fix.
“Dear, where are you? We’re getting very worried!” You hear Mr. Tran yell more urgently this time, and your hands smack against the strangers to unhand you, pushing him back within the four walls of your bedroom and shutting the door on his handsome face. 
You compose yourself once you’ve done so and reach your foyer, swinging open your front door. 
“Oh dear, Y/N, we were so worried, honey. Are you alright?” Mrs. Tran holds her hand to her chest as she takes a deep breath, Mr. Tran soon joining. 
“Is anything going on, sweetheart? We heard so much yelling.” 
“I’m okay, Mr. and Mrs. Tran. You don’t need to worry about me at all.” 
“Are you sure you’re okay, dear? There was an awful lot of screaming.” Mrs. Tran’s eyes flit around your apartment discreetly. 
“I was just on video call with my friends and they decided to play a scary prank on me.” You bellow out a fake laugh and watch them lighten up, buying the lie. 
“Oh gosh, we thought we heard another man’s voice and got so scared! We’re so glad you’re alright, dear.” Mr. Tran laughs with you, and you kindly reply. 
“Oh not at all! Thank you for checking on me, Mr. and Mrs. Tran.” You smile big and wide to appear okay, momentarily snapping your vision towards your bedroom with a gulp. They end up bidding their farewells and you watch them entirely enter their apartment, sighing with relief once their door closes. 
You shut yours, and practically stomp over to your bedroom as you hurl the door back open. The man on the other side practically leaps when you do, staring wide-eyed with raised eyebrows at your angry expression. 
“You have a lot of explaining to do.” The man watches steam figuratively blown out of your ears, and a little noise escapes the back of his throat that almost sounds like a laugh. 
“Did you just laugh at me?” 
“N-no.” He brushes off sauvely. 
You roll your eyes and snatch his wrist again, dragging him over to your living room and abruptly halting just before your couches. You shove him towards them and he snaps a testy look at you, taking his seat. 
You decide to stand and look down at him as he crosses a leg and lays his arm against the backrest, sitting as if he owned the place. You fold your arms and tap your foot in anticipation, eyes pissed and steely. “Well?” 
“Well, what?” 
“Do you not owe me an explanation?” You quirk an audacious brow, attempting to fathom what just transpired in the last 5 minutes.
“Explanation.. of what exactly?” He tilts his head and watches you with fascination, and it was now you realized his eyes weren’t glowing red anymore, they’re the colour of chocolate brown. But that doesn’t mean what you saw was a hallucination or a mind-trick either, you remember exactly what you witnessed with your naked eyes. 
The man seems to feel a crook in his neck. Your once occupied attention now snaps to the way he stretches it out, listening to the cracks of his bones that sound practically inhuman. 
“Why the hell did I see fire coming out of your hands? And your red eyes? Who the fuck are you?!” 
The stranger has an ah-hah moment, and understands you with a small nod. He goes from a non-committing look of disinterest to a mirthy smirk on his face, one that almost seemed devilish. He lets out a proud sigh as he hoists himself up, standing tall before you as he suavely tugs at the lapels of his leather jacket. 
“Well, I’ll cut to the chase,” The man quirks his eyebrows and plays with his lips in this undeniably sexy way you can’t help but find hot, blinking away the thought before it consumes you. 
“I’m Lucifer, the king of hell, baby.” 
You blink; once, twice, then three times. You stare at him dumbfounded, as if that would help you understand what he just so casually uttered. You finally let out a noise akin to a scoff. “I’m sorry, what?” 
“I’m Lucifer. You know, fallen archangel? Satan? The Devil?” 
You blink. “Do you think this is a joke?” 
The so-called Lucifer furrows his brows. “Huh?” 
“I nursed you after finding you unconscious on the street, and now you want to joke with me?” 
“But I’m not joking..?” The man seems acutely confused, even tilting his head in this innocent way that completely contrasted his scorching hot looks. He even peers so vividly into your eyes, it's as though he could read every corner of your soul. He towers over you, you also realized. His height is so significantly taller than yours that he has to crane his neck to look down at you. And all of sudden, the way your eyes shift up to meet his gaze feels oddly searing, almost like you feel something hot ignite within you when your lines of sight lock.
“There’s no way in hell you’re Lucifer, buddy. Tell me who you really are and maybe we can talk.” 
“But that is who I am,” Jungkook emphasizes, watching him step closer to you. He suddenly leans down to be eye-level with you, staring directly into your pupils smugly before cracking an evil grin. “Let me show you.” 
Your lips fall into a quizzical pout as you watch him perplexedly before you, and witness the man’s eyes suddenly morph from a warm coffee brown into a dull, flaming colour of dark scarlet. You flinch, watching the image of almost a smoldering fire in his eyes, and the coy way he tongues his cheek gives you the impression he’s a man dripping in sin. 
He blinks and rids himself of the flames, straightening up. “Believe me now, angel?” 
You couldn’t fathom this information, nor the pet name he just used on you. Did you in fact find Lucifer, the devil himself unconscious in the street and brought him into your home? Even nursed him and let him crash in your living room? Not that you regretted it at the time, you do remember admiring his absolutely gorgeous face and couldn’t help but openly gawk at him. 
Of course Lucifer had to be scorching hot with a face that could be sat on.
So-called Lucifer suddenly cracks a grin and chuckles, narrowed eyes snapping to him. “Why’d you just laugh?” 
“Nothing,” The man shrugs, amused eyes scanning you over. “You’re kinda cute.” 
You scowl at him sternly and roll your eyes, clearing your throat as you address him. “Well, Mr. Lucifer-” 
“Jungkook,” he gestures with a hand before folding his arms. “Just call me Jungkook.” 
“J-Jungkook.. what in God’s name are you-or not God. What in hell’s.. the devil’s name?” You become confused trying to form the question, pensive finger to your lips. 
“What am I doing here on Earth, is what you’re asking?” 
You nod with big, curious eyes, though still hold an adorable amount of annoyance within them Jungkook couldn’t help but notice. Said man flashes an evident look towards your lips before he continues. “To be honest, miss. I have no clue.” 
You purse your confused petals as you figure  that’s not exactly much to go on. You wonder what a celestial being of such high caliber could possibly be doing on Earth, let alone appearing to you like some rockstar that missed out on his opening act for Elvis Presely. 
“You didn’t tell me a name.” 
Your eyes flicker to his. “Huh?” 
“Your name.. I don’t know it.” He flatly remarks as his hands slip into his pockets, still eyeing you, almost examining you with that intense stare that seemed to burn you alive. 
“O-oh, right. My name..” You nervously laugh, arms crossed over your chest. “Y/N.. Y/N Y/L/N.” 
Jungkook jerks his brows in amusement, doing that thing where he tongues his cheek, and now you suddenly wonder why he plays around with his tongue so much. “That’s a nice name.” 
“Thanks,” you rigidly respond, not exactly knowing what to do. You’re all but traversing the many thoughts swarming your head; is this even real? Is this a dream? Is this some sort of colossal, sick joke someone’s playing on you? 
But you’re interrupted by the sound of a sudden gurgle, knowing you’ve already eaten dinner, and discerning it’s coming from your otherworldly companion. 
“Umm, are you hungry?” 
“Shit, is that what this is? Hunger?” Jungkook pulls a disgusted expression and pretends to throw up, lamenting horribly. “Fuck, I really am human.” 
You roll your eyes as he puts on a show of fake-sobbing, his pretentiousness eliciting a scoff from you. “Look, do you wanna eat something or starve?” 
Jungkook lightly pouts his lips as his shoulders slump and hands falter, eyes suddenly much more innocent. “Eat, I think? It’s not good for a human to not eat food, right?” 
You realize with such a question how little knowledge Jungkook possesses on humans, and with a hard sigh, you nod as you lead him towards your kitchen. 
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You watch Jungkook literally devour all the leftovers you housed in your fridge; fried chicken, some old Chinese, even the pasta and ravioli you’d left earlier today all down his stomach. You feel full just watching him when you lean your elbows over the counter, seriously inquiring about him. 
“So, wait, repeat that again?” 
Jungkook scarfs down a slice of pizza in practically a whole second, speaking messily through a full mouth. You try not to grimace. 
“Basically, I was cast out of hell and now…” Jungkook swallows as he reaches for a tall glass of water. “I have to find my way back in.” 
You blink multiple times to compute the information. “So for some reason you were kicked out of hell, and now you need to find your way back? Why the hell were you kicked out in the first place?” 
“I have no clue,” Jungkook takes another swig of water to wash down the dense content of his food. “All I know is that I need a way back in.” 
“Do you at least know how? Or what you need to do?” 
You watch him slam down your glass after finishing off, and now, you find every plate you presented to him nearly wiped clean. “I have no clue about that, either.” 
You deadpan. “What the fuck?” 
“Look, human. All I know is that I can find the answers I’m looking for. I just don’t know where to start.” You sigh, cradling your cheek in your palm as you watch him pat a napkin to his lips, and all of a sudden it draws attention to the soft petals. 
Why are his lips so damn kissable?
Jungkook’s eyes suddenly flicker up to yours and you snap out of your trance, swallowing. “W-what? Have you never been on Earth before?” You internally facepalm yourself for your idiotic stutter. 
“Nope, not at all.” 
You narrow your eyes. “Then how do you even know how to act like a human?” 
Now it’s Jungkook’s turn to deadpan, an elbow coming up to rest on the table as his other hand cups over his thigh, leaning in. “Are you forgetting who I am, angel?” He smugly asks. “I’m the devil, watching humans is part of my job.” 
You shoot him a testy look for the pet name again, but become curious of his job all of a sudden. “What do you even do as Lucifer? Sit on a throne and hear the screams of poor souls perishing in hell’s fire?” 
Jungkook genuinely laughs at your words, and you become even more annoyed. “What?!” 
“You’re quite right,” Jungkook sends you a proud nod, though he suddenly leans in closer, and he’s now bridged the gap between you and himself over your kitchen counter. He’s close, close enough you catch a whiff of this crisp, warm, though attractive scent off him. It was practically beckoning you closer with each breath in. The heat that radiates off him is almost scalding alone, swallowing as his proximity calls this certain side of you to jump out. 
Or more so, jump him. 
Jungkook smirks again, wetting his lips. “But I’m also the king and master of sin. I draw people’s deepest, darkest secrets out of them. All the bad in them.” 
He deliberately eyes you, almost too hard. It's as though he’s searching every crevice of your mind and can suddenly see all the hidden, disguised aspects of yourself. Now the air’s suffocating, those searing eyes you swear turn scarlet at one point so immensely bewitching you, it’s hard to look away. 
You can feel this almost magnetic pull towards him, eyes darting down to those cute lips of his again. But you immediately brush it off, knowing men like, well, devilish men like him love using their charms to entrance whomever they deem weak enough to fall into the trap. 
You scoff, looking away. “I’ve gotta take a shower.” 
You abruptly rise from your seat. You swipe your phone with you as you watch him settle into his chair, arms folded and now appearing very bored. You sigh as you glare at him, wondering how you’re meant to keep Lucifer of all people entertained. 
A question pops into your head, having mulled over it since you’d nursed him on your couch. “Hey, demon.” 
His gaze flickers to you, chewing on his lip. 
“Do you have a place to stay?” 
You watch as Jungkook actually becomes uncharacteristically shy, shifting awkwardly in his seat. “Not exactly, no.” The column of his throat bobs as he gulps. “Why? Are you trying to kick me out?” 
You laugh, covering your smile when you do. “No, I’m not like whatever higher power that casted you out of hell.” 
Jungkook’s smile returns then, less snarky but now actually more.. charming? “Funny and cute. I like you, human.” 
You narrow your eyes with a curt reminder. “Human’s not my name, demon.” 
“And demon’s not mine, either.” You contort your lips into an annoyed pout and stare him down. He returns the challenging look, though lightens up for his next question. “So.. can I stay here?” 
You don’t take much time to consider your answer, knowing your empathetically-cursed character could never deny the homeless man shelter. “I guess so. I don’t think it’s smart to let you roam the human world with your little knowledge of it.” Jungkook moves to deny you the insult of his pea-sized brain, but you calm him down. “I don’t mean it offensively. I mean it for your safety, Jungkook.” 
He settles down, understanding. “Yeah, I get you.” 
Jungkook seems to then regard you with a much more amicable look, his eyes conveying unusual, though present gratefulness. Suddenly you become interested in exactly how human Jungkook really is, seeing as he appears as human as it gets, but exactly how Lucifer is he still? 
“If I may ask.. are you really.. human on earth? As in.. do you have a different form in hell?” 
Jungkook finds the question endearing, laughing a little. “Not really. I appear like this in hell too, all the way down to my outfit.” He gestures towards his attire. “Though in hell I have wings. My eyes permanently glow red and I usually have flames surrounding me.. mainly my wings.” 
You’re stunned, now contemplating the image of Jungkook with these wide, gorgeous wings. You’re left completely speechless, envisioning the flames that probably burst out of them like a Phoenix rising from the ashes. 
“They must be beautiful.” You don’t even realize you let your thoughts slip aloud, regaining focus when you see Jungkook smirk through a laugh. 
“I-I mean.. are you sure you’re human? I mean your skin and all.. do you even need to sleep?” 
Jungkook tilts his head side-to-side for an unsure answer. “Eh, it’s different now that I’m on Earth. In hell, I’m at full power and never need to sleep, eat. Shit, I don’t even feel pain. My flames act as a sort of protective shield, I never incur injuries.” Jungkook elucidates casually.
 “But it seems the rules are different for me on Earth. I get hungry and thirsty. And this,” he gestures towards the small bandage you placed over his cheek wound. “Means I don’t automatically heal, and the exhaustion in my body means I also require sleep.” Jungkook simultaneously yawns as he informs you, covering his mouth. 
“And your skin..? Is your body entirely human?” 
Jungkook cracks a chuckle and his devilish eyes land on you, staring into your soul yet again. He props off his chair without warning and suddenly steps towards you, towering over your smaller frame again. His eyes remain locked with yours as he removes the lapels of his jacket, peeling back the item as he tongues his cheek. The action calls attention towards the sharp edge of his jawline, noticing how attractive it makes his thick neck appear. 
Fuck, if only you could mark a neck that pretty. 
The sound of his sudden snort reels you back into reality, watching him strip his jacket off.
“Jungkook-” You panic to cover him, but he continues, tossing the jacket onto the couch behind you as he then employs his fingers towards his nearly sheer, black-patterened dress shirt. You grow nervous as you watch him dislodge each button, wanting to avert your eyes and do so, but something about him beckons your sight back. Eventually he casts his shirt open, and your eyes nearly fall out of your sockets. 
Jungkook is ripped, as in he has the sexiest body you’ve ever witnessed in your entire life. The Statue of David must be jealous, hell, Aphrodite herself would probably choose Jungkook over ugly ol’ Adonis; that is how gorgeous he is. 
“Touch me and see for yourself.” 
You gulp, wide eyes flashing towards him. “Huh?” 
His lips curve into a smug grin, emphasizing his already drop-dead gorgeous face. “If you want to know whether I'm human or not, touch my body.” 
You suck in a breath, suddenly his open shirt exposing his sculpted torso is making your brain go haywire. The deep timbre of his voice saying such words already have you in shambles, wondering when he became so goddamn irresistible?
You can see each divot and protrusion of his muscular body, his abs prominent and his chest downright sinful. Though it’s his tiny, almost delicate waist that has you swooning, practically drooling over the hour-glass figure of his stunning, practically ethereal body. 
You snap a look at Jungkook, and his eyes await you as he watches with pure mirth. You hmph, acting as though this isn’t a big deal when you step closer and slowly, but surely press your palm to his chest. You lose air the second you feel the rock hard muscle.
Fuck, can I squish my face between his pecs? 
You shake your head and hear Jungkook let out the tiniest of laughs, shooting him a grumpy look. You then carefully traverse his skin, being able to feel the beating of his heart, the flesh and blood that make up his body. He feels warm.. almost too warm and it’s as though he’s.. calling you. Your body feels that magnetic pull again, wanting to either devour him whole or litter his body with your sinful kisses. 
It rushes through your veins and floods your lungs, filling your bloodstream with this instinct to simply jump him, touch him, bring this ravenous, dark side of you out into the world. Your breathing increases speed; suddenly he’s all you see and you can feel your body needing him just like you need air, like you wouldn’t survive without him until.. you pull yourself out of the trance. 
You physically rip your hand away and breathe erratically, as though you weren’t yourself just now. Your perplexed eyes blink multiple times to allow the rush to subside, and swallow harshly as you look away from him. 
“What.. what is that?” 
“What’s what?” 
“That-that thing. That fucking attraction to you or whatever..” 
He displays a lop-sided grin on his face as he quirks his brow amusingly, scoffing. “I’m Lucifer, angel. I breed sin wherever I go.” 
“What-what do you mean?” You peer at him with annoyance but also.. intrigue? This was oddly interesting to you, never have you felt the effects of something so utterly hypnotizing, attractive, alluring.  
Never have you felt your heart hammer and mind race like that. 
Jungkook makes it a statement to subtract the space between you two, your bubble invaded by his bare body as he carefully circles a palm around your arm, searing eyes boring into yours. “It means whatever sin you think of; lust, greed, gluttony, envy. They’re all heightened when you’re close to me, and worse if anyone’s lucky enough to touch me.” 
Your vision locks with his, finding the explanation to that scalding heat of his body. 
He’s goddamn Lucifer. 
“But.. I touched you.” 
He breathes a laugh through his nose. “And I don’t let just anyone touch me, angel.” 
You narrow your eyes at him, tugging your arm out of his hold. “Why do you call me angel?” 
Jungkook lightly gestures towards your chest area, and before you can grow offended over his line of thinking, you flicker downwards to find that your pajama t-shirt for tonight has the word ‘angel’ written across it, then adorned with wings and a halo around the text. 
You scoff, returning to him. “Really?” 
“That, and you seem to radiate the energy of an angel.” 
“And how exactly do I seem to do that, demon?” 
Jungkook’s fingertips find themselves preoccupied with feeling a piece of your hair, letting himself watch the action with a faint smile. You would smack his hand away, but his softer eyes look towards you, and you swallow nervously when you feel that heated attraction to him once again. 
His open shirt is already difficult to ignore, and you can’t seem to want to shove him away.
“Angels are pure, and true. They’re virtuous and serve the good of the universe.” You feel his hot breath tickle your skin as he decreases the gap between you two. His eyes remain locked with yours as he releases your hair. “But one thing to be known about angels,” He leans in closer, and pierces your soul with his searing heat. 
“They’re not as innocent as they seem.” 
He does it again, peering as if he knows something about you, deliberately searches your eyes as if he can sift through your mind, and you need to simply break away from him. His lips are too close and fuck, do you already find his lips so goddamn kissable. Not to mention this now supernatural pull you have towards him heightening your darkest desires. 
“I’m gonna take a shower, busy yourself in the main area.” You mutter almost incoherently. 
And all you hear is Jungkook’s muffled laugh as you scurry away. 
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The sounds of the TV running quirks your brows, ruffling a towel against your damp hair as you enter the living room. 
You find the odd sight of Jungkook holding a remote in his hand, lounging on your couch as he watches an episode of Friends. A laugh escapes you, not having ever imagined Lucifer doing something as mundane as watching TV. 
His eyes shift towards you at the sound of your chuckle, Jungkook sitting up much straighter. 
“Welcome back, human.” 
“It’s my house, demon.” 
Jungkook kisses his teeth as you approach him, your towel hanging around your shoulders. His eyes remain on your face for a while, though they travel down your body with a little scan. You realize it’s your short-cladded legs he’s observing, then returns his sight to you. 
“What are you wearing?” 
“Pajamas?” You answer him with a chide. 
He purses his lips in this certain manner of understanding, leaning his arm against the back of the couch, legs manspreading almost indefinitely. This is when you earn the opportunity to really view Jungkook’s legs, and fuck, are you goddamn mesmerized. His strong, thick thighs are hugged snuggly by those leather pants, and they do him a damn service by emphasizing their muscular, sexy build. His legs are also long, you notice, perfectly presenting his lap to you and it takes every ounce of your being to not so obviously look at his bulging crotch; naturally bulging crotch may you add. 
I swear if he’s packing too, this’ll just be unfair. 
Jungkook cracks a scoff all of a sudden and you narrow your vision, scrutinizing him. 
“I asked you a question?” He suddenly says.  
“Huh?” You blink; he must’ve queried you when you spaced out. “What did you ask?” 
“I asked if that’s how humans usually dress for the night.” Jungkook repeats himself. 
“Well, yeah. You wanna be comfortable when you’re sleeping, less clothing is usually the answer.” You reply honestly, arms crossed over your chest that adorns no bra. “You’re a guest in my home, and this is how I dress.” 
“You consider me a guest?” Jungkook inquires with a slight smile. 
“Well, yes. To be fair, I’m the one who brought you to my home, you didn’t infiltrate it or anything.” You offer him a shrug. 
You watch Jungkook genuinely grin at that, amused eyes flitting to you. “You’re nice, human.” 
“Thanks.” You’re not sure how much a compliment from Lucifer matters, but you take it anyway. 
“Oh shit, you don’t have anything to wear tonight, do you?” 
Jungkook’s round eyes wander off in thought, and it’s now that you notice his eyes are actually quite.. cute. “I don’t think so. I assume sleeping in an outfit like this wouldn’t be comfortable, as you say.” 
“Yeah, just hold on. I’ll come back with something.” 
You return to Jungkook with a set of comfortable clothes in hand, presenting them to him. “Here, I think these should fit.” 
Jungkook quirks a brow as he peers at the clothes with incredulousness, then you. “You’re going to make me wear that?” 
You roll your eyes as you regard the Hello Kitty shirt and grey sweatpants in your hands. “This is my biggest oversized shirt, okay?” You attempt to defend yourself. 
Jungkook appears as though his ego is hurt, a baffled hand to his heart. “You expect Lucifer, the king of hell, to wear something like this?” 
“It’s either this or no clothes, buddy.” You try to reason with him. 
Jungkook smirks then, standing to his feet before you with an amused and suggestive attitude. “I mean, I don’t mind not wearing clothes. But I think the only person that’s gonna have a problem with that is you, angel.” 
God, his eyes just scream the fiery pits of hell and mischievous mirth, who fucking knew Lucifer could be so obnoxious? His sense of confidence is suffocating and he seems as egotistical as the high school captain of a football team. 
You shove the clothes into his, dare you say, rock hard abs and huff with a scowl. “Just take the fucking clothes and change, demon.” 
Jungkook scoffs with barely-there acquiescence, inspecting the clothing items as he picks out the sweatpants. “These sweatpants don’t look like they belong to a woman.” 
“They’re not mine.” You absent-mindedly grumble as you make your way towards your kitchen, deciding on tidying up the many plates Jungkook left scoured from his feast. 
“Whose are they?” 
“Ex’s.” You reply flatly, compiling the plates together and nabbing the utensils he used. 
Jungkook nods in understanding, though now seems a bit out of place holding the pants. He reveals what could’ve been... sympathy? Pity? You don’t know. 
“Why are they in your apartment?” 
“He left them here after I kicked him out.” Jungkook notices the way you seem too casual while washing the plates, querying again. 
“Why did you kick him out..?” 
You set down the plates harshly in the sink then, producing a loud clattering noise. “Could you just fucking change?”
You didn’t mean to say it so sternly and with a cold-cut tone, but you settle once you see the taken aback expression on Jungkook’s face. You bite your lip as the water runs over your now cold hands, sighing as you return to your dishes. “I’m sorry. Just-get changed, please? That outfit must be bothering you.” 
Offering your words a little sweeter this way seems to dissemble the look of surprise on Jungkook, nodding as he visibly zips his mouth shut. Jungkook then begins to unbutton his pants right before you, undoing and just about tugging them down until you rapidly hold up your soapy hands to halt him. 
“Wait-wait! Not here!” 
“Don’t get changed in front of me, change in my room or something!” You attempt to mask your line of sight. No way would you goddam let yourself see whatever beast Lucifer is hiding in his leather pants. 
“And why would I need to do that? Haven’t you seen a man naked?” 
You roll your eyes at his snarky remark, knowing there’s got to be another smug grin on his rideable face right now. “I have but I haven’t seen you naked. Just change in my room please.” 
Jungkook lets out a grievous huff as he fixes his pants back on. “Fine, I’ll be back.” 
He snatches up his clothes and finds his way to your bedroom, shutting himself inside after flashing you a purposefully saccharine grin. You exhale once he’s disappeared, now running through the millions of thoughts that plague your mind. 
Is this really what your life’s now come to? Housing Lucifer in your home? You do digress on the matter that it’s not his fault. He’s been cast out of hell for a reason he doesn’t know, and it’s not like he was provided an elaborate guide on how to get himself back in either. 
You assume it must do with learning a valuable lesson or performing some sort of task, though it’s not like you know what the mighty powers above have in store for an already ethereal being such as Lucifer. You weigh your options here, maybe you can simply let him live here as a roommate until he can find a way back, right? 
Considering he has no means of living in the real world; ID, wallet, phone, fuck, even a passport, he won’t be able to get around easily. So for now, you might as well let him slumber with you until he deals with whatever introspective prospect of himself he needs to clean up. 
Your bedroom door clicks open as you find Jungkook emerging in your ex’s sweatpants that actually fit him quite well, and a stifled giggle escapes you once regarding him in your blush pink Hello Kitty t-shirt. 
“Well, you look just about ready for your hellish throne, don’t you?” 
“Fuck you.” He harmlessly exasperates, dragging his feet towards you with slumped shoulders. “You couldn’t have found me a shirt that maybe had anything to do with hell? Like that one sitting on your chair by your desk?” 
You scoff, scrunching up your facial features in disbelief. “No way would I give you my Thrasher t-shirt.” You glower. “It’s my favourite t-shirt.” 
“And I’m about to become your favourite person soon, hand it over.” Jungkook holds out his palm and requests the shirt with an arrogant curl of his fingers, sending him a deadpan expression and shoving his hand aside. 
“Maybe if you help me clean up my apartment and the dishes I’ll consider the offer, demon.” 
Jungkook rolls his eyes, kissing his teeth yet again. “You made a mess of objects in your apartment by throwing them at me, and now I have to clean them up, human?” 
“Who’s the ‘human’ that’s keeping your identity as Lucifer a secret and is letting you live here for free?” Jungkook pulls his lips back guiltily at that, pursing them with an affirmative nod before reluctantly getting on with his task. You quietly huff as you watch him compliantly clean up the mess, glad that he can at least follow instructions. 
It boggles you actually. Did you just instruct Lucifer, the obnoxious ruler of the Underworld to do something, and he listened? Do you now have one of the most powerful beings in the universe wrapped around your finger for offering your home? The thought paints a smirk onto your face. You did not begin this Monday at all thinking you’d be in the good graces of the devil himself. 
Too preoccupied with your thoughts, suddenly a searing heat beside you startles you. You peer up to find Jungkook slotted right next to you and picking up the dishes you’ve sudded up, silently rinsing them with this pout on his lips that seemed like a natural habit.
You quirk an inquisitive brow though, hands having stopped moving. “What are you doing?” 
“I’m helping you?” He replies obviously. 
You absorb the kind gesture and loosen up a little. “That’s.. kind of you.”  
“What? Didn’t think Lucifer could be kind?” He’s teasing you now, his eyebrows jerking in an amusing way that shows you he just loves the game. You roll your eyes, nudging his elbow as you bite back a smile. 
“Get to work, demon.” 
Jungkook suppresses a grin. He rather contorts his lips in acquiesce as he continues to wash diligently, humming a tune very similar to The Beatles’ “Devil in Her Heart”. 
And you quietly chuckle. 
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“There,” you gesture with an accomplished grin, hands perching onto your hips. You and Jungkook both look on at a makeshift bed you had crafted for him in your room, eyes peering at him for approval. 
He observes it with a critical lens, pensive pointer finger and thumb stroking his chin. “Is this meant to be where I sleep?” 
“Of course, where else would you sleep?” 
Jungkook’s eyes flicker towards your queen-sized bed and very obviously gestures towards it. “Maybe on the entire bed in your room? Did you think I don’t know that humans sleep in beds?” 
You exhale with irritation, palm smacking your forehead. “You can’t just sleep in my bed, genius. I barely know you!” 
“And what’s so bad about a man and a woman sleeping in the same bed?” Jungkook questions argumentatively. 
You send him a glare. “Like I said, I don’t know you and your intentions, and sleeping is when humans are in their most vulnerable state.” 
Jungkook contorts his lips with dislike. “I’m not going to unsolicitedly touch you or anything, if that’s your concern. All you are is a measly human to me, I have no attraction to you.” He holds up a hand in protest. 
“Excuse me?” You gasp. “Are you saying I’m unattractive?” 
“So now you want me to think you're attractive and want to unsolicitedly touch you?” 
You halt once you see the flaw in your argument, brewing in resentment as you watch him grin proudly. “That’s what I thought, human.” 
“Fine, you know what? Either you sleep on this lovely bed I made for you on the floor, or you sleep on my couch.” 
Jungkook sticks his tongue out and blows a wet raspberry, arms folded over his hard chest. “Fuck your couch, it put this damn crook in my neck.” 
You clasp your hands together and emphasize the most pathetically sympathetic pout in the universe. “Awh, did little Luci get an ouchy?” 
“Are you asking me to burn your couch? Because I’ll do so without hesitation, angel.” 
“Ugh!” You suddenly burst out into figurative flames, standing square before Jungkook to address him seriously. “Alright, demon. Since you seem to be the epitome of a picky child, you can sleep in my bed with me.” 
Jungkook’s face purposefully lights up like an elated child, gasping comically loudly just to get on your nerves, but you halt him with a finger. “But, we’re putting a barrier of pillows between us.” 
Jungkok scoffs with folded arms, hating that the action called attention to his bulky, bulging biceps in a funnily contrasting women’s shirt. “Not like I wanted to cuddle with you and catch your human disease, anyway.” 
You exclaim disapprovingly at the way he spits the term, hands perched on your hips with a speedy retort. “Well fuck you and your smoldering heat, demon. When I asked for a new furnace I didn’t mean you.”
Jungkook childishly mocks your expression, rolling his eyes. “Whatever, if you need a furnace then clearly it gets cold at night, and then we’ll see who’s cuddling up to who for heat.” 
You watch him practically throw open your covers and shuffle inside, hmphing as you step off in search of your light switch and shut it off. “Whatever.” You weakly grumble back. 
You settle into your covers as you harshly shove a bunch of pillows between you and Jungkook, not even daring to spare the infuriating man a look, turning completely away from his figure. You huddle into your side like a fetus once the night really kicks in, cursing your goddamn furnace for supplying such sparse heat while your window leaks chilly air through the old cracks. 
You shiver all while Jungkook seems to completely knock out in peace, most likely from his first oh so tiresome day being human. You’re welcomed by his light snoring for hours as you roll your eyes in contempt. 
Wanting to pin it on him for so irritatingly interrupting your much-needed sleep, you become annoyed not just with Jungkook’s snoring, but that he was right. 
You really wanted to cuddle up to him for some goddamn warmth that night. 
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You bop around to the Beatles’ 1963 track Jungkook was humming last night, pushing around some strips of bacon in your pan, messy hair tied and in your lounge wear. You’d cracked a few more eggs and cooked more bacon for your annoyingly hellish acquaintance. 
The chilly night really didn’t serve you well as you froze in your spot, only shuffling towards Jungkook after peeking at his slobbering, snoring state of sleep. You were thankful he still radiated such an abundant amount of heat, that finding relief in the small waves you could feel even over the pillow barrier wasn’t too difficult. 
Your pride kept you from removing even a single cushion. 
You produce playful noises from your lips as you busy yourself, setting up some breakfast considering your house does not only have a population of one anymore, but two, and it still continues to shift the axis of your world. 
Was last night really your reality? Are you sure that wasn’t just a wild figment of your imagination? It had to be, even if you believe in the supernatural, there was no way such a superior celestial being could so casually be a guest in your home. 
You’re reminded of that certain special guest when you suddenly hear a loud thud in your bedroom, concerned eyes perking towards your ajar door. 
“Demon?” You call. 
You gain no answer, wondering if you truly did just imagine all the events from last night. 
“Jungkook-!” Said man tumbles out of your room then, groggy as all hell as he lazily rubs his eyes and appears to you as death himself, though still delectably hot. 
Ugh, fuck him. 
“Y/N.. shit.” He addresses you, and suddenly the deep, gravelly tone of his morning voice makes your core inadvertently clench. “Y-yes?” 
“I crashed into your damn vanity in the bathroom.. why is everything of yours so tiny?” He complains first thing in the morning, now remembering just how frustrating the king of hell really is. 
“Maybe you’re just too big, demon.” He grunts his response, stalking over to you as he can’t seem to adjust to the morning light filtering into your apartment. 
You watch him approach you, gathering the necessary tableware for a quality morning breakfast. “How’d you sleep, demon?” 
Jungkook’s barely-open eyes scrutinize you as he seats himself on a stool by your counter, covering his mouth when he yawns. “Meh. I had this… this thing. I saw these pictures in my head when I was sleeping…” 
“A dream?” You assist him as you pour out a glass of milk. 
“Yeah, whatever the fuck it’s called. Anyway, I think.. I think I saw something that’ll help me get back to hell.” 
That pries your eyes open with intrigue, setting the glass of milk down for him on the counter. “Oh shit, already?” 
He nods, and you find it actually quite endearing how much his hair was tousled into this attractive bed-head, eyes puffy, lips pouting. “I saw this club.. I remember seeing it when I used to be in hell.” 
“A club?” 
“Mm,” he replies with a confirming hum as he reaches for the glass, lightly inspecting the drink as he continues. “It’s this exclusive club only for celestial beings. I heard about it sometimes among my demon subjects, but I was too busy being the mighty king of hell to give a crap.” He haughtily regards himself as he takes a moderate swig of the milk, licking his lips as he nods in approval of the beverage. 
“I like this, what is this?” 
“Milk,” you elaborate. “What about this club?” 
Jungkook takes another lazy sip as his eyes scan over the food you now plate on the counter. “Well, it’s obviously only meant for celestial beings. Demons and angels. I’m thinking if I can find even one of my demons, I could find out where the club is, and then figure out why I was kicked out of hell.” 
“Ohh,” you remark with understanding, setting aside the pan and spatula, while nabbing two forks from a drawer. “So you just have to visit this club then, correct?” 
“Correct,” Jungkook answers. “There’s just two things.” He begins as he takes the fork you hand him with ease, impressed by his adeptness for such human, mundane things. 
He must’ve watched humans for a brain-numbing amount of eons. 
“One, this one’s mainly angel territory.” 
You raise your brows in question, arms crossed and eagerly interested in the information. “There’s more than one?” 
“There are clubs scattered around Earth, it’s to allow celestial beings a place of refuge when they visit here.” Jungkook explains. “I remember seeing an American flag when I landed here, so I’m assuming I’m in America, and the only existing club here is in Chicago.” 
“Chicago?!” You exclaim with utter shock. “That’s across the entire country from here!” 
“Not the point, human.” He cuts you off with a finger. “Point is, that club will be crawling with angels, and as Lucifer they may not welcome me with open arms.” Jungkooks sets his fork down against your counter with a sigh, almost seeing his mind shift its locks and gears. 
“The only way I’ll be able to get in is if..” He pauses, serious eyes locking with yours. “Is if I bring a human with me.” 
You blink; rapidly, then slowly, then rapidly again somehow hoping it would change what you just heard. “Come again?” 
Jungkook sighs, his facial features already telling you he finds this difficult to discuss. “This club in Chicago is angel-dominant, meaning demons need to bring a human companion in order to get in. Like a truce, a sign we mean no harm.” Jungkook elaborates. “And even as Lucifer, I don’t think my charms and wit alone can get me through considering my less powerful, human form.” 
You scoff at him shamelessly tooting his own horn, wondering if he’ll ever tire of it. “Sounds like a real pickle, Luci. Wonder where you’ll find yourself a ‘measly’ human.” You snark with a snort, placing the milk back in your fridge and reaching for your mango juice. 
You swivel back around to a Jungkook who doesn’t smirk, nor grin nor tongue his cheek condescendingly, but simply leans his elbows over the counter and pressingly peers at you. As if communicating with his eyes alone… 
No, no way. No way in the fiery pits of Jungkook would you goddamn do this. 
“Jungkook, don’t you dare..” 
“Human.. it’s important.” You scoff through a humourless laugh, setting down your carton of mango juice and gesturing towards yourself in disbelief. 
“Me? You want the human to be me?” 
“Y/N…” Jungkook quite gently calls your name, a complete contrast to his arrogance and while the sound of your name on his tongue lights something within your chest, you can’t help but snort with utter derision. 
“No. I’m not fucking accompanying you all the way to Chicago just for some innocence show-and-tell.” You immediately deny him, contemplating just how crazy this is. How in the world could you just up and leave for some travelling with the devil all the way across the country? You couldn’t even take a goddamn flight considering dear-old Lucifer’s lack of passport ID. 
“Y/N.. look. I know it’s not ideal for you, but this is seriously important.” Jungkook emphasizes with a persuasive tone. “I need you…” 
Those last three words and the look of pure need in his eyes tug at the strings of your weak heart, groaning in complaint. “Jungkook, you can’t be serious. I-I have a life here! I have friends and a job and not to mention school starts back up for me in a month-” 
Jungkook suddenly rises from his seat and paces over to you, grasping a careful hold of your hands and the innate warmth he emits from his skin actually feels.. comforting. 
“Y/N, look. I get it. You have a life here on Earth, a place where you belong. But I have a life in hell, a place where I belong. Wouldn’t it be best to just accompany me and get me back to hell so I can get out of your hair?” 
“Jungkook…” You counter with an uncooperative tone, eyes communicating sympathy, but you can’t offer him the help he needs. “I can’t.” 
“This will benefit both of us, human.” Jungkook convincingly states. “I go back to hell faster, and I leave you alone faster. I know how much you don’t want me here.” 
You hesitate, eyesight faltering to your connected hands; his thumbs are actually soothing the back of your hands? When did he start doing that? 
“That’s not exactly true…” 
“Y/N, just come. I know it’s asking a lot but I really need this.” Jungkook pleads. 
“And what will you do for me in return if I come with you?” 
“Oh, Y/N, I’ll do anything. The faster I can get back to hell the faster I reclaim my full powers, and I’ll grant you anything you desire. I promise.” You’re uncertain of how strong a promise from the devil could be, deterring you from giving him an answer he wants to hear. 
With a sad sigh, you disconnect your hands from Jungkook’s. “I really can’t, Jungkook. It’s non-negotiable…” 
You watch as the usually confident, cocky man falls into an expression of glumness, silently retracting his hands. He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly as he acquiesces, though seems silently upset. “Okay..” 
The gloomy pout to his cute lips does you in. “Look, Jungkook. I’m going out with friends tonight for drinks at this bar. Maybe you can tag along and you can easily find another human? I’m sure any girl would be willing to roadtrip with a super handsome guy like you across the country.” You attempt to present a peace-offering with a joke, hands shoved into your sweater paws as you hug your chest. 
“But those humans won’t be like you..” He groans with a huff, eyes evading you. 
“And what’s so different about me?” 
“You already know I’m Lucifer, that makes things 100x easier for me.” He argues. 
“Well, I found out and I ended up accepting you. Who’s to say you won’t find another human like that?” You plead your case, but Jungkook just scoffs in reply. 
“Please, do you not remember what happened when you saw that I was Lucifer?” You recall the fiasco of forks, flinging and feathers, sighing once you see his point. “Exactly. Besides, you saw me as Lucifer by accident, I can’t just be revealing my identity to anybody. It’s not allowed.” 
“But I know..?” You question genuinely, gesturing towards yourself. 
“Like I said, by accident. Though I’m assuming the Council won’t see it that way, and they’ll come for me anyway.” Jungkook more so mutters to himself as he frustratedly tongues his cheek and steps around, brewing with stress. 
“The what?” You question. 
Jungkook rolls his eyes, as though now registering just how annoyingly human you are. “Think of them as angel police, yeah?” 
You mimic his tone purposefully and he impersonates you back, scoffing to end the interaction. “Look, if you already have these angel police people on your ass then what’s the harm in telling another human? They’ll be chasing you anyway.” 
Jungkook laughs dryly, looking away from you as he shakes his head. “I can’t just do that, that’s not how it works.” 
You sigh, watching the way his jaw flexes because he’s grinding down on his teeth too hard, a clear sign of his anger. You hate that it emphasizes the sharp edge of his jawline, and that it’s actually fucking hot. 
He suddenly breaks into the slightest laughter that holds some amusement, wondering what he’s laughing at. Nonetheless, you decide to defuse this situation and try to comfort him. You meant it when you said last night you wanted to be in Lucifer’s good graces, but also remain in them no matter how irritating he is. 
You approach him amicably and grasp his bare bicep, brushing his arm in support. “Look, Jungkook. Just come with me tonight and try, okay? Maybe your answer is just an arm’s length away.” 
Jungkook’s eyes find yours, and you watch them glimmer with something akin to understanding, surprisingly loosening up at your touch. Though his irises are soon blanketed with his signature mirth as he eyes you, feeling the heat of his body suddenly radiate off him like a heatwave. 
“You sure you want me to come tonight, angel? Your friends may think I’m your scorching hot boyfriend.” 
You produce an appalling noise of disapproval, removing your hand from him and shaking off his Luciferness. “Fuck you. I’m telling them you’re my roommate and that’s final.” 
“And where exactly did you find me as a roommate? On the street?” Jungkook laughs as you shoot him a crabby glare, not missing the way his amused eyes flit over your figure with almost… likeness? 
“I’m telling them you’re a co-worker. No way am I saying I just found you on a whim, they’ll think we’re-” 
“We’re sleeping together, right?” 
You grow aggravated by the sly way he’s folded his arms and does that stupidly attractive thing where he tongues his cheek, fed up with his suggestive fun. You quickly snatch your kitchen towel in your hands and roll it up into a punishing device, rapidly smacking at him. 
Jungkook exclaims playfully as he dodges your hit. “Wo-hoah, human. Didn’t I tell you angels are good and pure beings? They don’t hit people.” He laughs as you grunt in frustration and follow his retreating form for another whack, actually landing it against his arm. 
“Hey, bad angel!” Jungkook tuts you light-heartedly as he cleverly evades your angry attacks. You hate that even while he’s riling you up, you actually liked the image of his glowing, entertained smile, his cute teeth reminding you of a bunny. 
“Says the obnoxious Lucifer!” You holler loudly in complaint, chasing him while your once warm breakfast turns unfavourably cold. 
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“And this is Jungkook, my co-worker!” You cheer as you present Jungkook to your group of friends, earning wide smiles and gawking eyes from your female friends and equally surprised male friends. 
“Hey, everyone.” Jungkook waves with a confident smile, showcasing his adorable teeth for a lovable grin. 
Did he seriously have to be cute too?
You snap out of it once you see your friends all greeting him kindly, Jungkook only left to shyly smile and reply shortly to all the inquiries he gains. His lost eyes find yours and he reveals genuine fear in them, silently requesting you to come join him and let up the traffic of questions. 
A snort escapes you as you watch on, who knew Lucifer could actually be awkward? You swear he should’ve been a natural with people, though you contend he just doesn’t do well with so many questions at once. 
To be fair, he’s never been around other humans before either. 
You grant him mercy by sliding in beside him, shooting pleasant grins all around as you answer the dozens of questions your friends ask about your new gorgeous co-worker. 
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“Doesn’t he just look like one of those men that’ll eat you out until he can’t breathe?” 
“Oh for sure, looks like he’d stuff himself full and even when you tell him to breathe he just says no.” 
“Hell, he’d be that type that pulls your hips back down over his face when you try to let him breathe.” 
“Guys..!” You interject as your friends Madison, Naila and Kiara all giggle together. You’re all huddled together drinking by the bar as your friends become more interested in observing Jungkook in all his dripping sexiness. 
And to be honest, you don’t really blame them, he’s wearing that scorching hot leather outfit again. 
“Y/N, seriously. How could you not tell us someone that hot worked with you?” 
“This has got to be a crime, were you gate-keeping him?” Naila suddenly complains as you quell their grievances. 
“Guys, he just.. got transferred to my department recently. He’s new.” You find a quick enough and convincing lie. 
“How did you two end up even living together? There had to have been some sort of meet-cute.” The girls all gush together when Kiara asks, all eyes shifting towards you as they excitedly await an answer. 
“Well.. we just.. got on the topic of him needing a place and we hung out sometimes. So I offered my place.” 
You feel slightly cornered, but confidently answer with another white lie. “And he said okay.” 
They all squeal together like teen girls, honestly finding amusement in their reactions. “Ugh, you’re living the dream, Y/N.” Madison suddenly slings an arm around you and tugs you towards her, gesturing towards nothing that indicates her depiction of ‘the dream’. “You’re in a roommate situation with an absolutely scorching hot guy, you’ll totally end up either falling in love or banging him!” 
“What?” You squeak as you throw back a shot of tequila Naila handed you. “No way will that happen, he’s obnoxious as hell!” 
“Ugh, babes. Even if he’s obnoxious I bet that dick isn’t.” Kiara jokes and the girls all chuckle together, tipping back their shot glasses after filling some back up. You roll your eyes and smack her arm as she exclaims, trying to lighten you up. 
“Y/N, c’mon. You deserve to have some fun after that shitty fucking ex of yours. Live a little, ya know? Whether it’s love or dick, they’re both great remedies.” 
You scoff as your lips hover over a shot glass, eyes wandering the club as if you're occupied, but really, you know it’s in an effort to look for Jungkook. It’s funny you act like you don’t know where he is, when you know his exact location. 
Your eyes flicker across the bar, finding Jungkook having casually slipped into conversation with the boys tonight. He was laughing and happily tipping back shots himself, amused that he at least eased up and found some company with your male friends. 
Sights absorbed in suddenly eyeing him, it’s truly difficult to pry your gaze away. No way was this Jungkook’s impact of being Lucifer, you now knew you needed to be very close, or at least touching him in order to feel those effects. So why is it that you still feel this magnetic pull towards him? Can’t help but not only find him incredibly sexy in his usual outfit, but something so mysteriously alluring about him? 
Your body wanted him, you knew that much. Anyone with eyes and functioning reproductive organs would know that, but you couldn’t shake off the fact that it wasn’t just your body that wanted him.
He was just so intriguing, and you wanted to know more. 
Suddenly, Jungkook’s eyes casually shift from your friend Hobi he’s speaking to, and locks with your gaze across the bar. You freeze, eyebrows raising as you hesitate to take your shot, caught in a stare with him you can’t break. 
Jungkook stares back, and he stares goddamn good. He tongues his cheek again irritatingly and you try to swallow down the way he makes your core light up. Jungkook then tilts his head a little downwards with a cracked smirk, before he peers up at you again with eyes so devilishly smoldering, you could feel a sweat break out at the nape of your neck. 
You gulp as Jungkook then tips his head to the side with a light furrow of his brows, as if questioning you what’s wrong, and you lightly nod to him nothing. He laughs a little, hating that he finds this somehow amusing. You’re in the middle of narrowing your eyes at him until Naila interrupts you, Jungkook cleverly looking away then. 
“See, they’re practically eye-fucking already!” You shoot them all an annoyed look as you grunt in complaint. 
“Are you sure you guys aren’t together?” Madison inquires. “It seems like he already likes you, babes.” 
You click your tongue in disapproval. “He just likes to tease me, guys. Drop it, would you?” 
“As long as you land on his face, then everything should be good.” The drunk girls giggle together, and you can’t help but snicker at the joke. You contemplate in your tipsy head there really is something about Jungkook’s smoking hot face that makes it seem so rideable. 
“I’ll be back, guys. Stay here.” You instruct the girls as you set your shot glass down. You weave through the throngs of people mingling and dancing in the bar, ignoring your girls’ hollers of encouragement as you bee-line towards Jungkook. 
You reach the occupied man and tug lightly at the end of his sleeve for his attention. “Jungkook!” You shout over the blaring speaker the guys are all near. 
Jungkook’s vision snaps to you as he simultaneously touches your wrist to acknowledge you. Your skin ignites at a simple touch of his, feeling a rush you’ve never experienced before. You blink it away before lightly tugging him aside, speaking to him. 
“What’s up, human!” The booming bass of synth-pop beats abuses your eardrums, requiring both you and Jungkook to yell at each other. 
“Why haven’t you talked to anyone yet!” 
“Huh!” He hollers in response.
You exclaim in complaint as you lean in a little towards his ear, shouting louder. “I brought you here to talk to someone and bring with you, why haven’t you been talking to anyone yet!” 
Jungkook draws back and signals to you he can’t hear, rolling your eyes and curling your palm around his wrist, dragging him through the crowd. You tug him into the secluded restroom area where it’s much quieter, the shut door closing out the music. 
“Ah, that’s much better.” Jungkook notes. 
“I was asking if you’ve talked to anyone about Chicago yet, Jungkook.” You repeat yourself from earlier, hand still holding onto his wrist. “That’s what I brought you here for, remember?” 
“Hey, I’ve been talking to people,” Jungkook defends himself, though his expression falters into one of hesitancy. “Kind of..?” 
You glower at him, “Jungkook, what do you mean by ‘kind of’?” 
Jungkook sighs, shoulders slumping as he surprisingly doesn’t even make you let go of him. You can feel that rush of his energy coursing through you, but you manage the invasive feeling as you focus on the conversation instead. 
“I’ve been trying to get it out of me but.. I just never end up asking.” You exclaim in annoyance as you scold him.
“Jungkook, why not?!” 
“Because it’s just weird, okay, Y/N?” Jungkook argues. “I’m meeting these people for the first time, I can’t just fucking ask them to hitchhike with me all the way across the damn country.” 
“But it was completely okay to ask me?” 
Jungkook kisses his teeth with a roll of his eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you you’re different, human?” 
“Well, I’m not any different when you always call me a ‘human’ anyway, demon.” 
Jungkook becomes fed up with your pestering and scoffs. “Whatever. You’re the only human I can do this in front of and not have someone screaming their head off.” Jungkook emphasizes his point by conjuring up a hot flame from his palm. His suddenly glowing red eyes also appear, shooting you an ‘I-told-you-so’ look of challenge as you glare back at him. 
You’re seconds from retorting until you’re suddenly interrupted by the shrieking of a woman. You’re startled as your unsuspecting vision falls to a random stranger who had just ventured out of the bathroom and…
“Fire, fire!” 
You and Jungkook both look at the flame in his palm, then towards the woman in fear, finally locking anxious eyes with one another and panicking. Jungkook puts out the fire and you rapidly approach the woman to calm her down, hoping nobody can hear how goddamn loudly she’s screaming. 
“Shh, oh my God. It’s okay, it’s a prank. It’s a prank!” You repeatedly yell in order to shut the lady up, but she keeps yelling and trying to make a horrified break for her purse. She scrambles inside and you both watch her fish out a small bottle of something that’s engraved with almost-visible writing.
Holy Water. 
“A demon, it’s a demon!” She shrills so goddamn ear-splittingly, you and Jungkook leap into flight mode. He engulfs your arm in his and tugs you towards him urgently.
“Y/N, we have to go!” 
You curse repeatedly as Jungkook swings open the doors to the club and you shoot the woman apologizing glances, begging for her to put a damn sock in it. Jungkook takes the lead as he drags you out into the bar. He rapidly pulls you through people and ensures he keeps a tight hold of your arm, tugging you incredibly close to his own body as some sort of shield. 
Your friends end up seeing you both fleeing and shooting you looks of either ‘what the fuck’ or ‘get it on!’ as you practically hide your face in embarrassment. You and Jungkook hurtle out into the blissful night as he tugs you both down the way he knows you parked your car. You grunt in raging frustration once you realize that you parked it far with this place being downtown. 
“Ugh! You just had to fucking use your powers out in the open!” You complain aloud while you run with Jungkook, not caring now for the few late-night city stragglers hearing you. 
“Not my fault you keep nagging me about finding another human!” Jungkook argues as he continues pulling you down the road, the fear of authorities being called by the random woman scaring him. “Do you see now why you’re the only one who can come with me?!” 
You whine as you consider he’s correct, there’s no use in him searching for another human for ages when you exist right before his eyes. “Fine, fine! I’ll fucking go with you, asshole! Can we just stop fucking running?!” 
You become too tired to keep up with Jungkook, feet aching in your shoes once you realize how fast Jungkook was going, hands dropping to your knees as he releases you. 
“You… you run.. fucking fast.” You heave for air as you register the sweat on your forehead, having participated in too much exercise just now. 
“I’m a little faster as Lucifer, human.” Jungkook elaborates oh-so-obviously as you wave him off, squawking for air as though you were a fish out of water. 
“You okay?” Jungkook asks as he nears your bent over form with a hand, and you swallow harshly as you tell him to give you a minute. You’re focusing on resupplying your lungs oxygen until you suddenly feel arms cupping underneath your body, and are unexpectedly hoisted up in the air. 
You squeal as you find Jungkook’s lifted you off the ground bridal-style, freaking out at just how strong he is. “J-Jungkook, put me down! You can’t carry me all the way to the car?!” 
Jungkook swiftly ignores you as he begins jogging towards the direction of your car, and quite frankly does so almost too easily. “I’m fast and strong as Lucifer, human. I can handle you.” 
Jungkook quells your worries as your round eyes watch him flash a look down at you, and try to stifle the flutter of your heart when he shoots you a show-stopping smile. 
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It was the day of your trip, and having woken up at the ass crack of dawn to get on the roads early, you and Jungkook currently load your car with your luggage enough for two weeks of travelling. You groan as you rub an exhausted eye, yawning when you feel sleep still beckoning you to your warm bed. 
You stand frozen in your spot as you refuse to move the suitcase resting at your feet, rather staring at it with delirium instead. 
You feel a sudden nudge to your shoulder, finding Jungkook settling beside you. “Hey, sleepyhead, get moving.” He instructs in rather a light, encouraging tone, finding that very different from his usually pushy tone. 
Sight still filled with sleep, your eyes remain locked on Jungkook shooting you one last look before he’s hauling a duffle bag over his shoulder, and carries another heavy suitcase effortlessly, hating that it all made his biceps pop so goddamn sickeningly.
Did Lucifer really have to be ripped?  
You roll your eyes at how unfair this is; Jungkook having begged you last week to take him on a small shopping spree so he had enough trendy clothes to wear and didn’t have to keep sporting your Hello Kitty shirt. Not only that, but you had to spend even more bucks purchasing him necessary things to even live in the human world; his own toothbrush, cologne, hell, even boxers were on the list with Jungkook’s shameless ass promising he’ll shower you in gold once he’s ruling hell again. 
Jungkook suddenly waves his hand before your eyes, perking up as your eyes shift upwards to accommodate for his height. “Hello, human? I need you with me.” 
You blink rapidly. “Yeah, yeah. I’m here.” 
“You okay? I know you didn’t sleep well with everything you needed to arrange.” Jungkook’s palm curls around your arm, carefully inspecting your features. “How was your call with work?” 
“Not terrible. They were kinda pissed. I was asking for vacation time at the last minute but when I explained it was a family emergency, they weren’t so annoyed about it.” Jungkook approves of that as he rubs your arm supportively. 
“I promise we’ll be back in two weeks, and your life will go right back to normal, human.” Jungkook grants you another promise as he sends a small smile, earning a miniscule, tired grin from you. 
“Did you get the last of everything from inside my apartment?” You gesture towards your building. 
“Yeah, I got everything. Just your suitcase left.” You nod in understanding as you bend down to lug at your suitcase. You struggle as your palms fasten onto the bag but find the weight too much for your flimsy arms. You make a rather resilient effort to tug it towards the trunk of your car with all your might, until Jungkook’s hand suddenly replaces yours on the handle. 
His presence casts you aside as he shoots you a tight-lipped smile and lifts your luggage himself, tucking it into your trunk effortlessly and shutting the hood. You stand frozen at the sudden kind gesture, brows furrowed in confusion. 
Did he just do something nice for me? 
You decide not to snarkily comment on it, instead shutting your mouth and making towards your beat up Prius.
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Ironically, AC/DC blasts through your car’s speakers, snickering a little once you consider you genuinely are on the ‘Highway to Hell’. 
Your laugh catches Jungkook’s attention, who’s enthusiastically pretending to drum the exact beats of the rock song. With your peripheral, you find Jungkook completely enjoying himself before shooting a look at you, then back out on the road again. 
You and Jungkook were about 2 hours into driving now, having decided to blare the music in order to keep each other awake in the early morning. 
“You sure you don’t want me to drive, human?” Jungkook asks as he settles in his seat, getting comfy as your hands remain at ten and two. 
“Nah, it’s okay. If I don’t drive I’ll fall asleep.” 
“You kinda look like you need it.” You shoot him a glare as you move a hand to smack at his arm, to which Jungkook hisses and tuts. 
“Hey, focus on the road, will you?” 
You hear him laugh while you roll your eyes, returning your hand to the steering wheel. “Fuck you, do you even know how to drive, demon?” 
“Of course I do. It isn’t too difficult.” Jungkook shrugs as though you were both discussing apple-picking. 
“And how to hell do you know that?” 
Jungkook scoffs a dry laugh, taking a long, deep sigh. “Sweetheart, you have no clue how long I’ve been watching humans.” 
He reclines back in his seat as he shuts his eyes, tossing the heels of his shoes over your dashboard until you swat violently at his legs, sneering reprimandingly. “Hello? This is my car? Get your dirty feet off.” 
You shove his legs off and Jungkook awakes with a disagreeable scowl. “What the fuck? Can’t a guy goddamn rest?” 
“You’re Lucifer, Jungkook. Not a human, remember?” You purposefully chide with a saccharine tone, and you listen to him scoff. 
“Awh, he’e becoming more human everyday.” 
Jungkook mocks you before you find his arms tightly folding over his chest, huddling against the window as he genuinely attempts to get some shut-eye. You presume he’s not so used to needing sleep. 
“Do you even know if this is the right way, Jungkook?” You ask, ensuring with him every now and then if he wasn’t just simply leading you to your demise somewhere. Who knows, maybe the real way for him to get back into hell is by sacrificing a human life through a ritual or something. 
You shiver hoping that’s not true at all. 
“Yes, I know..” Jungkook grumbles with his closed eyes and an exhausted body, watching him peacefully come to rest. 
You decide to not bother him considering he did complete most of the work packing and loading all your luggage for the road trip this morning, needing to have woken up before you for the task. You shoot a glance at his resting state, his lips falling into that pout you’ve now noticed over the week, in fact, is a natural habit of his. 
He usually makes it when he falls asleep. 
With an acknowledging side-grin, you turn down the volume of the music, and focus on driving again. 
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“You just had to eat all the Fuzzy Peaches, didn’t you?” 
“No I didn’t, there were only three left once I even got the bag, it was you.” 
“And you couldn’t spare some for me? I’ve been driving for 4 hours!” 
That particularly stupid argument is what led both you and Jungkook to pull into this convenience store along the side of a quite bustling street. Car washes, lauder mats, even a brunch diner were all located in this small plaza ‘Ed’s Convenience’ was also in. Across the street from you was a supermarket, the rest of the area littered with stores whatever odd town in California housed. 
Currently, you were waiting for Jungkook to return to you from the convenience store. Despite now knowing him and his tendency to snack a lot, you allowed him to take your card after he promised that you would be given the choice of always deciding where you eat. 
You had to seriously discuss with Jungkook that money was going to be your biggest issue on this trip. Considering gas, eating out, staying at hotels, a lot of your own personal finances were going to be depleted just for this 2 week trip. Jungkook yet again, promised indefinitely that once he returned to hell he would be able to conjure up triple what you spent on him, along with a slew of fake-sobs that you reluctantly agreed to in order to shut him up. 
You roll your eyes remembering the interaction, having set a strict rule with him that your money will have to be managed and budgeted very well while on this trip. Sometimes you would both have to survive on convenience store food, sometimes it would be best to just camp out in the car together rather than always spending nights at crappy motels. 
The sound of gravel crunching catches your attention, soon finding Jungkook appearing before you. He was wearing black ripped jeans, combat boots, black shirt all tied together with his leather jacket, holding a bag of convenience store goodies as he plopped down next to you on the trunk of the car. 
He currently munches on some gummy worms as you watch him, finding that he probably appeared the most innocent when he was eating. His eyes go round as though he’s a child eating food for the first time, and he chews in his adorable pout you can’t help but admire, rather ironic for the sinful king of hell. 
You never expected to see him in such a domestic, human state. 
His eyes flash to you and you wake up from your trance, clearing your throat before flickering back to your laptop screen. “You’re back, demon.” 
“Mm,” he hums, reaching into his bag and suddenly presenting you with a bag of Fuzzy Peaches. You raise your eyebrows in surprise as your hand tentatively clasps around it. 
“For me?” 
“Well, you threw a whole tantrum over em’.” 
You immediately move to elbow him but he defend himself, laughing as he presents the bag of candy. You accept the bag with a scoff, disguising the grateful smile and flutter that threatens your heart at the gesture. 
“What are you looking at?” He inquires with narrowed eyes to get a better look at the screen. 
“Google maps. I know you said the club you need to visit is in Chicago, but do you know the exact location so that it’s easier once we’re in Chicago? I need to know which highways to take.” 
Jungkook nibbles on the last of a gummy worm as he pouts his lips in thought, watching the clear blue sky above him. “I told you, we’d have to ask one of my demon subjects in order to find that out.” 
You nod in comprehension. “Do you know anyone we could possibly visit for an exact address?” 
Jungkook reaches inside his packet for another bite of a gummy worm. “I do. I think most of my subjects would know, though the only one I can recall the exact location of is a demon named Azazel.” He snaps a piece of his gummy worm in half, bringing one of them to his lips for a nibble as he details. “He’s one of the Princes of hell, serves right under me. He likes to hang out at this one place in Nevada I think. He’d definitely know where the celestial club is located.” 
You purse your lips as you absorb the information, checking it through with him. “Prince of hell?” 
“Yeah,” Jungkook nods. “They’re these 7 princes that are meant to represent the Seven Deadly Sins. They’re a ranking just below me, powerful beings but they’d never dare defy me.” Jungkook proudly remarks, watching the way he straightens up his slouched back and squares his shoulders. 
“That’s interesting. Which sin does this Azazel demon represent?” 
“Lust. Or, well, vanity.” Jungkook clarifies. “But when I say he’s a super weird one, I mean it. He’s got his own very… unique tastes he thinks very highly of.” Jungkook grimaces as he seems to remember something bone-chilling about the demon. He then laughs, however, finishing off the last of his gummy worms as he regards you beside him, trying not to squirm at how much larger he is than you, or how he even makes damn ripped jeans look scorching hot.  
“Take a guess where you think we’ll find someone like him?” 
You furrow your brows as you tilt your head in question, Jungkook’s eyes lighting up at the adorable gesture of yours. “Where?” 
6 hours later, you stand frozen, mouth agape, legs unmoving. You listlessly stare at a loud, flashy neon-pink sign that depicts the image of an erotically-posed woman wrapped around a pole, along with the name “The Devil Wears Prada” ironically plastered underneath in cursive. 
It’s a fucking stripclub. 
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You peer at Jungkook absolutely bewildered, blinking a few times to compute whether or not he was serious. Jungkook merely stands all too giddy, arms folded over his chest as he flashes you a beaming smile. 
He’s having way too much fun with this.
“Jungkook..” You draw out his name with a scolding. 
“Oh c’mon, Y/N, it’ll be fun.” He attempts to warm you up to the idea, nudging your elbow too adorably. 
You shoot him a dirty look and snatch your arm away from him, exhaling annoyingly. “Did it really have to be a stripclub?” 
“Why?” Jungkook queries. “Have you never been to one?” 
You freeze, suddenly a lump forming in your throat and trying to swallow it down. You’re not sure how you’re going to tell Jungkook that you actually have without revisiting a long-gone memory from your past. Your eyes evade him completely then, squeezing your folded arms tighter. “I have.” 
Jungkook furrows his brows. “Is.. there a problem?” 
“No just-get us inside, will you? It’s not exactly warm out here.” You begrudgingly complain as you harshly tug your cardigan around yourself. You hate that the temperature suddenly dropped significantly at night, leaving you freezing in your tank top, jean shorts and a measly wool cardigan. 
You internally groan then, not just at the weather but standing in front of this Godforsaken place. The entire idea of a stripclub is off-putting to you, and it’s not like you’ll tell Jungkook exactly why. 
You didn’t want to recall the god awful person attached to it. 
All of a sudden, you’re enveloped by the warmth of a jacket around your shoulders. You surprisingly snap to your right and find Jungkook adjusting his cozy leather jacket over you, warm from his usual higher temperature. Your lips fall into a quizzical little pout. 
“Why’d you...” 
“Let’s go inside, we don’t want Azazel leaving, do we?” 
You regard Jungkook with round eyes as he simply sends you a smile, halting yourself from swooning over the deadly image. He wraps a warm palm around your wrist and drags you to the entrance of the club, silently following him with the hint of a shy smile. 
A long line awaits outside the door, but Jungkook confidently stalks over to the security guard on duty. The man almost protests angrily until Jungkook glowers at him with his crimson eyes, sending the man to instantly shiver with fear. He graciously opens the door for you both without a hitch, even granting you VIP access badges. 
Impression is all that colours you as you contemplate Jungkook’s mere unmatched power, knowing damn well you’ll refrain from pissing him off too much, You slip inside the lively club with Jungkook, and unconsciously slide your fingers into his with acutely rising nerves, squeezing slightly. 
And surprisingly enough, Jungkook squeezes back. 
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Your pairs of once peaceful ears are welcomed by the sound of raunchy music blasting over the speakers, scantily-clad women dancing on a neon platform with a shimmering pole, and also decorating the many suit-wearing men in the crowds. 
You feel out of place, awkward, only having been in a stripclub once, and it was not your best experience at all. You clasp Jungkook’s hand a little harder this time, even cowering into his much larger form as people pass you by and disregard all means of space. 
Jungkook’s eyes sweep over the place with nothing but mischief and mirth, watching his eyes smolder a fiery red with a smug grin.
“Fuck, now this is my place.” This must be exactly where Jungkook thrives; sin litters this place from left to right and you assume it’s channeling his powers of pure evil. 
You fear a human possibly sighting his Lucifer eyes though, and quickly prop yourself on your tip-toes. Your hand curls over his shoulder and you speak to him in his ear, Jungkook instinctively bending down. “Jungkook, your eyes.” 
“Hm?” His round orbs stare into your soul inquisitively, and you suddenly realize he actually has very big eyes, almost doe-like. 
“Your eyes, they’re red. Someone will notice.” 
“Oh,” Jungkook blinks a few times and dials down the heat, dispersing the colour. “Better?” 
“Better.” You nod. It takes a good second for you to notice how close your faces are to each other, however, and your breath catches in your throat. Jungkook’s lips curve into a little smile when he sees that, becoming too swept up in his ocean and immediately removing yourself from him. Only your hands clutch each other as you avert your sight. 
You continue to evade him and Jungkook instead zeroes in on you, scrutinizing your features. “Are you okay?” 
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” 
“Oh my God, don’t tell me you totally lied about going to a stripclub.” Jungkook drawled. “You’re so innocent.” 
Jungkook makes it a statement to ruffle the top of your head, and you quickly smack his hand away as you send him a death glare. “I’m not lying, for your information. I have been to a stripclub, and I’m not that innocent.” 
You have no clue the things I’ve thought of.
Jungkook cracks a sexy grin. “Hmm, are you sure about that?” He leans in eye-level with you suddenly, and you lean back in accordance. “I’m sensing something else here.” 
“The only thing you should be sensing is Azazel, demon.” You shove him back and Jungkook lets out a hearty laugh, rolling your eyes in response. 
“You’re right, I actually can sense him. He should be here.” Jungkook scans the place with his demonic eyes, attempting to discern where exactly Azazel may be. 
You’re busy hmphing when you move to cross your arms, and realize that Jungkook, while distracted, is still holding your hand. You peer down at the means of contact, feeling a warm, fuzzy feeling suddenly spreading across your chest. You push it away once Jungkook turns to you, ensuring he doesn't catch you staring at your connected hands. 
“I think he may be in one of the VIP rooms, I’m going to check, okay?” 
“Wait,” you pull him back, Jungkook all ears for you. “Why are you going alone? I can’t come?” 
Jungkook chuckles a little. “Demons usually take up the vip rooms in this club,” Jungkook then suddenly tugs you towards him without warning, and you tumble directly into his chest. You peer up at him in complete surprise, only to find his smile absolutely shit-eating. 
“I wouldn’t want an angel like you in a den of sinners.” 
Your heart hammers against your ribcage, being this close to him just sets off an insatiable fire inside you that’ll never have an explanation anymore. Maybe it’s Jungkook’s attraction as Lucifer, you’re not sure, but suddenly feeling his chest against yours, mere inches from his lips, his eyes only on you in a room full of exotic, topless dancers, you feel yourself falling into his abyss. 
Why can’t I just kiss his cute lips?
A shove to Jungkook’s shoulder by a stranger snaps you out of it, immediately adding space between you two. “G-go find Azazel.” You see Jungkook crack a knowing grin before he holds up his hands in mock surrender. 
“Alright, alright.” He vindicates himself, but suddenly winds an arm around your shoulders, his lips brushing your ear. He tugs you close enough to catch a whiff of the coffee you both drank on the way here, trying not to ignite at the feeling of his lips touching your skin. 
“Stay here, don’t talk to anyone. Don’t take a drink from a stranger either, only wait for me.” He instructs firmly with a squeeze to your arm, turning to the side to question him why, but Jungkook has already let you go. He disappears into the crowd and booming club then, before you can even breathe. 
Damn, he really is fast as Lucifer. 
You suddenly become reclusive in the grandiose, erotic club. All you see are boobs and sexy women flaunting their gorgeous bodies, and as much as you find it downright impressive, respecting the hell out of the stunning dancers, a pit settles into your stomach.
Stripclubs just aren’t your thing, they never have been. Especially after what your asshole of an ex did to you in a stripclub before, they unsettle you to the very core. It brews a storm in your heart you can’t remedy nor can ever forget, sighing as you suddenly wish Jungkook didn’t leave you alone. 
What the fuck? When did you even need his presence around in the first place? 
You shake the jitters out of you. You won’t let some dark part of your past haunt you anymore nor think about the literal devil himself, you’re far beyond that and a healed person. 
You sigh as you contemplate what you’re meant to do now, Jungkook’s instructions of staying put and not even touching a drink producing your sheer boredom. You stand with your arms folded and step towards the bar ensuring you weren’t in the way of any dancing women, or didn’t catch the eye of some ogling man waving money. 
Blowing a raspberry, you silently bop around to a sultry rock beat as a new stripper presents herself on stage. Your own eyes are glued to her almost instantly, surprised by how gorgeous she is and mentally commending her for her graceful figure and well.. generous assets. 
Out of boredom, her show becomes your center of attention until a sudden tap to your shoulder turns you around. You come face-to-face with a very handsome bartender. 
“Sorry to interrupt, but this drink’s for you.” He sends you a polite smile. 
“Oh, but I didn’t order a drink.” 
“I know, I ordered one for you.” You’re internally taken aback by not only the man’s boldness, but his drop-dead gorgeous smile. A grateful grin creeps up onto your lips as you chuckle a little.
“And why did you do that?” 
The handsome stranger shrugs. “It looked like you needed one.” 
You slowly wet your lips as you try to keep from smiling too wide, encircling the glass. “That’s awfully kind of you.” 
“Don’t mention it,” he waves you off. There’s a simple moment where you’re merely looking at your glass, taking it in your hand for a drink until Jungkook’s voice rings clearly in your head. 
‘Don’t drink anything either.’ 
You furrow your eyebrows wondering why you exactly couldn’t. You teeter on either defying him or simply choosing to listen, not knowing how severe his order was. You buffer on the drink until the man’s rather hypnotizing voice pulls you out. 
“So.. what’s a woman like you doing here all alone?” 
You quirk a brow. “And who exactly is a woman like me?” 
“Too pretty to be alone.” 
You crack a chuckle at that, the charm he’s laying suddenly loosening you up. “That’s a good one.” 
“Good enough to know whether you’re alone or not?” 
You hesitate on an answer here, not knowing his intentions but giving him an honest answer nonetheless. “No, I’m.. not here alone.” 
“Are you here with a boyfriend?” 
Your heart stops at that, someone referencing Jungkook of all people as your damn boyfriend feels ridiculous. Even imagining such a thing leaves you sneering, and no the idea does not make your heart swell or your chest flutter. In no corner of the world will you find even a measly speck of you considering Jungkook as your boyfriend, a good idea. He’s only the smoldering hot king of the underworld that seems to actually be nice despite being the master of sin, has these cute doe eyes when he’s confused or these pouty lips whenever he eats. 
And he does not have you undeniably attracted to him. 
Not at all. 
“N-no, not my boyfriend.” You choke on your saliva. 
“Ah, so I don’t have to worry about a jealous man or anything.” He smirks all too handsomely. 
“And why exactly would a jealous man bother you?” 
“Because I’d like to make you mine tonight.” 
You feel your heart experience whiplash in your chest as you feel it bloom with fuzziness. Suddenly his smile is show-stopping, the way he leans over the counter emphasizes his muscles and his black button-up hugs his body like a second skin. 
“Have a drink and loosen up, gorgeous.” The smoldering bartender tongues his cheek, and suddenly his jawline is looking too good to not kiss up.
With a smirk of your own, you run your tongue inside your cheek as well, a fire lighting inside you. Your fingers curl around your glass of what seems to be a cocktail, suddenly thirsty for a drink. You eye up the handsome stranger as you bring the glass to your lips, tipping your drink over. 
“What the fuck are you doing?” Jungkook’s voice startles you as he suddenly clamps down on your wrist and displaces your drink, spilling some on you. “Didn’t I tell you not to drink anything or talk to anyone?” 
His sudden rude tone ticks you off. “Jungkook, it’s just a drink-” 
“Hey, man. I was just talking to her.” 
Jungkook’s eyes immediately become annoyed regarding the stranger behind the bar, quickly approaching him with a furious look. “I’m not some ‘man’, and I know you aren’t either.” 
Jungkook then violently grabs the bartender’s collar and tugs him over the counter harshly, the anger in his eyes absolutely searing. You panic as Jungkook’s harsh actions catch the attention of others nearby, your glass now empty as it spills over. 
“Jungkook-!” You try to pull him back, only to be completely surprised with what you see next. 
Jungkook’s eyes spark into a demonic fire as he stares into the man’s very soul, and you watch as the bartender’s irises suddenly reveal a deep shade of red himself. You falter back in shock as the man’s features immediately paint over with terror so horrific, he scrambles to be let go of.
“Sir, please-” 
“Get the fuck out of my face.” 
The once smirky and charming bartender turns into the equivalent of a crybaby, practically tripping over his feet as he runs off to cower away in the employee’s break room. Jungkook without a word snatches up your hand and begins leading you through the club, ignoring the concerned eyes that follow you two. You’re overridden by a million questions as he relentlessly pulls you, not even granting you a moment’s rest.
“Jungkook, Jungkook! What are you-” 
“Did I not fucking telling you to stay put and not talk to anybody? Did you think I said that for fun?” 
The irritation in his tone makes you feel guilty, and maybe you’re realizing your mistake, but Jungkook didn’t have to be so damn pushy about it. 
“I don’t exactly see the problem-” 
“That was the problem.” Jungkook suddenly stops you both before a dimly lit corridor as he gestures in the direction of the bar. His breaths are hot and heavy as his eyes cut you cold. 
“And what kind of problem was that? He was just a bartender-” 
“He was a demon,” Jungkook emphasizes. “This place is crawling with them.” 
Something about the anger in Jungkook’s face either makes you feel turned on, want to argue back, or a deadly combination of both, 
Why is it so sexy when his jaw clenches like that? 
You try to ignore the way your legs suddenly squirm. “So what if he was a demon?” 
Jungkook scoffs dryly, wetting his lips as he looks away. “That’s what the demons do here. They reel human women in with their charms, roofie their fucking drinks and get them alone.” He then mutters under his breath, focusing on nothing in particular with sheer indignation. “You have no clue the disgusting things he was thinking.” 
You scrunch your face in confusion. “And you do?” 
Jungkook rolls his eyes before he simply huffs, “it wasn’t hard to tell. Do you even know what a demon would do to an unsuspecting human like you?” 
His evasiveness and avoidance of making eye contact only increases your pissy mood, folding your arms with a pressing question. “And since when did it bother you what happens to me?” 
Eyes flashing to you, Jungkook only produces a mean look of hesitation. His jaw clenches as he gnaws at his teeth, lips impatiently pressed together. He then simply takes your hand in his, muttering yet again. “I found Azazel, let’s go.” 
And he drags you away as you unwillingly tag along. 
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You and Jungkook stop before a rather grand-looking door, noticing it’s probably the most expensive and exorbitant among the hallways. The entrance is perched by two guards on both flanks, a stern-looking man and an evil looking woman, both staring you and Jungkook down as though they could see right through you.  
Jungkook clears his throat, proudly presenting himself with a look of unbothered confidence. “Good evening, underlings. I need to see Azazel.” 
“And who might be asking?” The sultry woman practically slithers out her words. 
Jungkook rolls his eyes before he, for the dozenth time, flashes them his scarlet eyes, watching the stoic man raise his brows in surprised acknowledgement, as the woman merely shivers in pleasure. Both their own eyes glow a deep shade of ruby, and you now understand that they’re demons as well.
Did Lucifer have some sort of connection or invisible linkage between all demons? Was there something about his eyes? 
“Ah, the king himself is here.” She cheers, clasping her hands together with excitement. Her vision flashes down to Jungkook cradling your hand in his, though, but she doesn’t show any disapproval or bitchiness about it, rather seems intrigued. 
She abandons her post and makes towards Jungkook, her red dress accentuating every slim curve of her body. She laughs an almost harmonious giggle as her hands soon land over Jungkook’s chest, biting her bottom lip as she asks in a whisper. 
“Is it really you, master?” 
Jungkook merely laughs, tilting his head as he condescendingly asks. “Who else would it be?” 
Her eyes flicker with fire, fingers slowly feeling over much of Jungkook’s muscly body as he simply allows her to do so. His expression doesn’t really communicate much of anything however, as though he’s bored and simply letting the demon have her fun. Clearly the attraction to Jungkook isn’t just a human thing, he has practically all creatures on their knees for him, and he seems to know it too. 
Arrogant prick. 
A laugh escapes you suddenly, and the female demon’s attention immediately snaps towards you, eyes narrowed into slits. 
“And who might this be?” 
“None of your concern.” Jungkook tugs you a little closer to his body, almost shielding you. You can only intently watch, unable to do much of anything. But the female demon boldly ignores Jungkook, too enthralled by you to remain obedient. She approaches your figure with almost a cat-like nature, extremely curious and hyper-aware. 
You suspect absolutely nothing, until within the blink of an eye, she suddenly grapples the back of your neck and tugs you flush against her own face. You gasp in immediate fear when her fingernails transform into sharp claws. 
“Amara.” Jungkook scolds with a reprimanding tone as he squeezes your hand, but she only continues on, the bridge of her nose skimming the arch of your cheekbone. She actually sniffs you, and her lips curve into a downright demonic smile. 
“A human..” She chimes lowly, but is only interrupted by an irritated Jungkook. 
“Amara, let her go. She belongs to me.” Jungkook instructs firmly, and your heart does a backflip inside your chest. When did you ever become his? 
Even worse, when did you actually like the idea? 
“Is that why she’s wearing your clothes, master?” She queries as her sharp hand rests over your shoulder, feeling at Jungkook’s leather jacket on you. “Master never gives his clothes to anyone.” 
The fact leaves your eyes widening, looking towards Jungkook who merely sighs. He then holds onto Amara’s shoulder and forces her to face him, seriously peering into her eyes. 
“Amara, let her go.” Jungkook’s eyes beam a vibrant red as he authoritatively orders. “I will not ask you again.”  Amara immediately lets you go then with thinly-pursed lips, holding her head up high as she returns to her post. 
Jungkook wets his lips in frustration before he turns to you and gently gathers your hair in his hands, carefully peeking behind your neck. He lightly whispers in your ear, “did she hurt you?” 
Ignoring the goosebumps that arise across your skin, your fingertips canvas over your neck as you feel the slightest sting in a certain area, knowing it must be a scratch. “Not really.” 
Jungkook laughs then, and you furrow eyebrows. “Why’d you just laugh?” 
“Because the desire to sin really does kick in when you’re near me, huh?” Jungkook’s pointer finger then slides over the exact cut you had, and you instantly let out a hiss. Jungkook knowingly grins. “You just lied to me.” 
You roll your eyes, seconds from swatting his hand off you until the sudden scent of coffee on his breath stops your heart. Jungkook casts your hair aside as he gently leans over your shoulder, and invades all your personal space. You’re unsure of what he’s doing until you feel his breath fanning you—he’s blowing on your cut. Surprisingly enough, it’s almost as though Jungkook’s delicate blows cauterize your wound, feeling your pain melt away in an instant. 
Sweeping your hand over the nape of your neck, suddenly it’s as though there was never a wound at all. You look at Jungkook with pure wonderment as he simply flashes you that sexy quirk of his brow and an attractive grin. Adjusting his shirt on himself, he then fixes his jacket on you, pulling it tight around your body. He turns back to the demons after finishing his task and grasps your hand yet again “We need to see Azazel, open the doors.” 
The stoic man that’s merely stood there the entire time silently clasps onto the handle. He opens the door without a complaint, standing off to the side. Jungkook enthusiastically tugs you along with him as you pass Amara, who only flashes a half-hearted smile your way before you’re greeted by something you never expected. 
Rouge curtains, a plethora of intoxicating incense, bright, vivid colours of Moroccan splendour designs attacking your eyes. The entire place is littered with these vibrantly coloured fabrics and charms, gaudy pieces of diversified collectibles and an odd earthy though spicy scent that made you throw up in your mouth. Though what catches you next are the multitude of nearly naked women sensually dancing and sitting around a quite eclectically dressed man, your brain far from boggled. 
The man’s too busy making out with a certain woman until Jungkook loudly clears his throat. “Azazel,” 
Said man, well, demon suddenly rips his mouth away from the topless woman, wiping some lipstick that smeared onto his skin. His hooded, hazed-over eyes are far more entertained when he regards Jungkook, however, lips curving into a mirthy grin. 
“My, my, if it isn’t the king of hell himself.” 
Jungkook purses his lips in acknowledgement as Azazel leans over onto his knees, waving off his dancing women. “Nobody told me you’d be visiting little old me.” 
“Maybe if you weren’t sucking the life out of female humans, you would know.” 
Azazel’s eyes bounce as though he were dealt a hit he actually liked, snickering in his throat. “A little too haughty for someone in your position, don’t you think?” 
Jungkook furrows his brows in confusion, and Azazel merely scoffs. “Think the whole of hell doesn’t know what’s going on with you, boss?” He questions rhetorically. Azazel then gets up from his seat, the women around him not even minding as they seem in almost an unbreakable trance. 
‘They reel human women in with their charms, roofie their fucking drinks and get them alone.’
Fuck, Jungkook was really telling the truth. Better yet, was he genuinely trying to protect you?
He approaches Jungkook, almost too close for comfort. Jungkook squeezes your hand in response, and you stay right by his side. 
“We all know the big man upstairs kicked you out of hell and you’re about as powerless as a mouse in a glue trap, boss.” The demon, you now realize, is almost ironically nothing what you imagined the demon of lust to be like. He seems the epitome of gluttony with his larger belly and older-looking features, honestly disgusted by him. Jungkook almost reads your mind as he makes an expression of distaste too, turning his face away from Azazel’s to actually breathe. He faces him then, eyes powerful and self-assured.  
“I’m still the king, and I rank higher than you, Prince of hell.” Jungkook squashes Azazel’s ego. “I’d watch what comes out of your mouth.” 
“And I’d do the same if I were you, boss. Right now it’s looking right about rocky for you with your powers gone.” Azazel practically, or well, quite literally spits. “I’m thinking you should choose your words wisely, could probably squash you like a pesky ant on the side of a road, Your Highness.” Something about the superiority complex and condescension of Azazel ticks you off. You turn to Jungkook trying to believe what the demon said isn’t true, but Jungkook’s acquiescing expression clues you in to the fact that that’s not the case. 
Maybe he really does have to play nice right now, you didn’t know the breadth of Azazel’s powers compared to a human Lucifer, anyway. 
Jungkook sighs as he tongue his cheek. “I just need to ask a question, Azazel.” He then instinctively tugs you further behind his larger frame, but that only draws Azazel attention to you, and suddenly his once normal eyes beam with an intriguing, red hot flame. 
“And who might this be?” His creepy voice curls around your spine and makes you shiver, sending him a look of disapproval. His hand comes out to cup your cheek but you immediately smack his hand, leaning away from him. 
His eyes glow with anger as he almost lunges towards you, but is stopped by Jungkook’s arm blocking the way. “Behave, Azazel. She’s mine.”   
“Ohh,” Azazel calms down with a snarky tone, eyes still scavenging your figure as though you were a meal to consume. “The master’s keeping a toy, I see.” 
The context of that leaves a bad taste in your mouth, watching Jungkook’s expression stay predominantly blank. He squares his shoulders when he requests again. “Just answer my question, Azazel.” 
The demon hmph’s as he sends you and Jungkook a death glare, returning to his seat. “Sit down.” He practically growls. 
Jungkook leads you with him towards the vibrant indigo, velvet couch across from the weird demon. Jungkook plops down on the cushions, and just as you’re about to seat yourself next to him, he immediately tugs you forward with a force you couldn’t deny. You tumble into his lap and your ass settles over his strong, thick thighs. Your arms naturally fall around his neck as his hands delicately hold your waist, panic overflowing you once your core presses into his crotch. 
“J-Jungkook, what are you-” 
“Shh,” he grits quietly under his teeth. “Just play along.” 
You pull a confused face, watching as Azazel becomes busy speaking with one of his scarcely-dressed ladies. “What do you mean? Why do I-”
“Azazel has a thing for human girls,” Jungkook whispers closely in your ear, hands slowly soothing your side that leaves you squirmy. He suddenly dares to nibble on your lobe a little, the touch igniting a lusty flame inside you despite the initial surprise. “Especially girls like you.” 
“What-what are you doing?” 
“Acting,” he rasps in a whisper, tongue gently licking at your lobe. “Play along.” He repeats pressingly. 
“What do you mean…” You attempt to suppress a yelp when Jungkook unexpectedly bites your ear lobe, only fidgeting over him more. “Girls like me?” 
You feel Jungkook smirk as he presses a bold kiss behind your ear, a hand of his dropping to your bare thigh. He ever so slightly brushes the tips of his fingers up and down your skin, fuelling every nerve inside your sensitive body. 
“Sweet and innocent ones like you.” 
His tone is so dark, so deep and low you’re forgetting where you even are. Your grip on his shoulders tightens when Jungkook skims his nose up your pulse point, his heated breath and lips raising goosebumps all over you. You chew on your bottom lip to contain how horny you suddenly feel, as though every cell in your body wanted Jungkook kissing you, on you, inside you. The hunger was insatiable, your legs rubbing together once your panties felt too sticky. 
“Since-since when did you care? I thought you hated humans.” 
“I said I hated humans, not you.” 
“You..” You contain a moan when he grips your bare thigh. “You said you’d never be attracted to a human like me.”
A scoff escapes him as his lips graze your skin, scrunching his shirt in your fist for any semblance of control. It’s hilarious that Jungkook is so transparent about insisting you’re different, but never explains why you are in the first place. His silence now beckons you to question him again, though it comes out more akin to a moan.
Jungkook then finally latches his wet mouth onto your neck, feeling your core gush with an immediate waterfall. He begins ever so slightly mouthing at your skin, laying soft kisses that were almost feather-like, barely there, yet you felt as though you were on fire. You realized he didn’t answer, wanting to query him again but fuck, you’re too goddamn distracted by his plushy lips sinfully kissing your weak spot. 
Suppressing a moan, you manage, “why are you doing this.. Jungkook?” 
“I need to show him you’re mine..” Jungkook mumbles against your neck as he sucks a soft bruise . “So he won’t take you.” 
His words snap you out of your daze, reminded that you and Jungkook are here for a goddamn task. He wasn’t doing this because he actually wanted you, there was an underlying agenda here and you need to stop getting sucked into his tempting ocean. 
You gently push him off you and find Jungkook’s amused eyes peering at you, cracking his signature grin. You realize you must appear flushed, the heat of Jungkook’s Lucifer body too searing to handle. 
Eyes locked in an untelling gaze, this position with Jungkook feels too unreal. You’re currently perched in his lap as you hold his neck and he hugs your waist, face mere inches from each other, almost kissing but not. You hate how much you suddenly yearn to kiss his lips, wondering if that certain Lucifer attraction is the reason why, or maybe Jungkook’s lips are just so fucking kissable. 
Jungkook doesn’t break your eye contact as he juts out his tongue to swipe his bottom lip, flashing his vision down to your petals that hang slightly open. You breathe carefully attempting to not suffocate, Jungkook is seriously, and very undeniably hotter than hell. You can almost taste the coffee on his breath again as he nears you, vision flashing to his lips that suddenly seem so close…
“Cozy, now aren’t we?” 
You both snap towards Azazel in unison, clearing your throat as Jungkook plants his feet down and straightens himself. 
“What’d you wanna ask, boss? Make it quick.” Azazal tends to one of his topless girls feeling him up, practically cooing at her as he speaks annoyingly. “I’ve got better things to do.” 
Jungkook rolls his eyes, his hand on your tummy drawing soft circles. You try not to melt. 
“I need the location of a club, Azazel.” 
The demon laughs across from you both, caressing one of his dancers that flank his left side. “There are many clubs, boss. You gotta be specific.” 
“You know which one I’m talking about,” Jungkook scowls, his palm firmly clutching your bare thigh, and you try not to imagine what he’d feel like touching you elsewhere. 
What if he touched me down there?
Jungkook suddenly squeezes your thigh and you practically jump, trying to refocus on the conversation. You attempt to not pay attention to the way Jungkook’s practically eye-level with your cleavage. The mere prospect of his sexy face in your boobs leaves your legs rubbing together, nipples shamelessly hardening. 
God, why are you so horny?
“Angels Give You Wings, you know the one.” Jungkook affirms, seriously trying to work with the rather disinterested demon. 
But once the name’s up in the air, Azazel’s eyes shimmer with mirth as his attention shifts to Jungkook. “The infamous club, you say?” he asks rhetorically. “You should know it’s in Chicago.” 
Jungkook sighs. “I know it’s in Chicago, but I need the real address.” 
Azazel raises his brows. “And why would you need the real address?” 
“It’s not exactly your concern.” Jungkook cuts in all too arrogantly, Azazel narrowing his eyes. He now examines you both, almost scrutinizing the pair of you as he touches one of his strippers. 
“You two don’t look very close for a couple.” Azazel observes, flitting over your entangled bodies. You become displaced, looking towards Jungkook for an answer. But you only find him glaring back at Azazel as he cradles you in his arms, practically demon-growling at him.
Azazel hoots as he watches Jungkook’s anger grow. “Wow, would you look at the master being possessive of his toys for once.” He smiles evilly, laying both his arms over the back of the couch with a repulsive look. “If you’re being possessive of her, then you ain’t getting jack shit tonight, boss.” 
“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Jungkok practically spits.
“It means,” Azazel mimics Jungkook’s harsh tone. “If you wanna know the address, you need to let me read her.” 
You furrow your brows as Jungkook heavily sighs, bringing a hand to his forehead with distress. Your fingers ask for his attention through rubbing at the nape of his neck, voice quiet.
“Jungkook, what does he mean?” 
“Oh!” Azazel cheers all of a sudden. “She calls you by your real name, master? That’s wonderful!” He claps like a happy seal, now understanding what Jungkook meant by Azazel being quite the... odd type.  
Jungkook lifts his head to look at you then, eyes revealing something akin to.. Fear? Stress? You couldn’t place it accurately. “I won’t let him have you, angel.” 
You’re sure Jungkook is probably only saying this to act like you’re together, hell, even his hands slowly but soothingly caressing your waist and thigh have all probably got to do with this ruse. But something about the reveal of emotion in his eyes maybe indicated he could be speaking the truth. 
Or at least, you’d like to believe so. 
“Hand the girl over, boss.” 
Something ticks inside Jungkook as he flashes his eyes a searing red, and practically sneers at Azazel. “You’re not touching her.” 
Azazel’s amused expression only thrives off Jungkook's anger. “Well then, you won’t be getting your address, then.” 
Jungkook huffs with a dry scoff. “I’m not offering her to you anyway.” He then pats your thigh to move off him. You climb off Jungkook’s lap as he stands on his feet with you, avoiding your eyes as you wonder why he won’t just give you up. He intertwined his hand with yours in mere milliseconds as he sends Azazel a death glare. “We’re leaving, angel.” 
“You’re funny, boss. How do you expect to get your address?” 
Azazel’s condescending tone stops Jungkook, and you need to seriously squeeze Jungkook’s hand tightly in order to prevent him from charging forward. You should’ve known, Lucifer would obviously be irrationally hot-heated. But, also being the representation of Pride among the so-called seven princes of hell, he absolutely hated it when someone knocked him off his high horse. 
And that’s all Azazel has been doing. 
“I can ask any other demon.” Jungkook grits through his teeth. 
Azazel clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “Nuh uh. That’s an Angel-dominant club, do you really think some second-rate lackey could get in? It takes someone of my power-ranking or higher to even withstand those damn halo-wearing pricks.” 
Jungkook scoffs. “I’m Lucifer, Azazel. I can ask an angel.” 
Azazel snickers as though he were told an immature joke. “You really think an angel won't go straight to The Council and rat you out? Don’t think you’d appreciate seeing your estranged brothers in this circumstance, boss.” 
You hear a crack in Jungkook’s neck as you watch his jaw flex firmly again, except now, it seems like Jungkook could be breaking his teeth as he bites down hard. His eyes are a seething ruby, wondering what could be causing Jungkook so much heated distress. 
Brothers? Did brothers mean.. the rest of the Archangels? 
Your hand suddenly feels too hot as Jungkook practically crushes the life out of you. You exclaim in pain, realizing that Jungkook’s utterly losing his cool. You panic, knowing Jungkook is still quite powerful and you did not want to see him angry. He needs to simmer down before all hell actually breaks loose, worriedly approaching him. 
You rapidly step in front of him and grips his biceps, attempting to gain his attention. 
“Jungkook, hey, Jungkook.” You call him with light shakes, but his breaths only increase in speed. His vision is glowing a vibrant red and you can feel him entering attack mode. You protest for him yet again, to look at you, to calm down, hoping your voice can pull him out but gain no response. 
Jungkook is seconds from unleashing his flames, already raising his palm for a ferocious blast until your small hands suddenly engulf his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. 
“Jungkook!” You say it so worriedly, so sweetly that something almost automatically switches off inside Jungkook. It’s as though the figurative flames bursting out of him are extinguished, his breath stabilizing as you find his doe eyes staring back at you. 
You crack a smile as you watch his features change, becoming the exact Jungkook you met back in your apartment. 
“Human..” You’re unsure of why Jungkook’s stuck with the name, but funny enough, it made you laugh a little
“Demon..” You chide him, and he actually cracks a grin too. You wet your lips as you seriously peer into his eyes, speaking kindly. “Jungkook, you should let Azazel read me.” 
His eyes flood with something akin to anxiety and he grips your hand against his cheek, shaking his head. “No, it’s not a good idea, angel. He’ll hurt you.” 
Your lips pout slightly hearing his concern, again, unsure of whether or not this was all a ruse. You wouldn’t know. 
“What will he do?” 
“He can read minds when he touches people. Angel, demon, human, it doesn’t matter. But it hurts, especially for humans.” Jungkook warns, eyes communicating the urgency he desires to reach you. 
You can see where Jungkook’s coming from, whether it was for the ploy or his own genuine compassion, you wouldn’t want Jungkook to hurt himself just for you, either. But you knew this was important to him, he really needed to unearth that club and figure out his way back to hell. 
He needed to go back home.
You’ve already tagged along and come this far, not to mention how many times Jungkook really did show concern for you and helped you out. You should repay that kindness and help him too. 
“Jungkook, you really need that location.” You explain softly. “It’s okay, it won’t be for long, right? I can endure it.” 
“Human..” You can see the worry in his eyes, feeling your heart melt. He squeezes your hand harder and you try to ignore the fact that he doesn’t even mean any of it, only an act meant for the demon you can tell is staring you both down. 
But you’d oddly like to believe it was real.
“He’s going to infiltrate your mind, read your deepest, darkest thoughts, invade your privacy...” He urges you, emphasizing gravely that this is not something to be taken lightly. 
“I’ll be okay, demon.” 
Jungkook sighs with evident worry. “If you feel uncomfortable for even a second, I’ll kill him.” He proclaims. “You don’t have to go through with this.” 
“I’ll be fine, Jungkook. We’re a team now, alright? I got you.” 
You’re unsure of what emotion flashes through Jungkook, but you can clearly see his expression soften. He purses his lip, and simply nods as he slowly lets your hand go, but not without leaning in close to your ear. “You need to convince him..” Jungkook advises quietly. “Convince him about us to get the address.” 
You nod back in affirmation, detangling your fingers and stepping towards the sleazy demon. 
Azazel flashes you a toothy smile you wish you couldn’t see, repulsed as you stand before him. You notice the women flanking him don’t necessarily pay attention to you, and have only been touching and dancing around Azazel the majority of the time. You wonder if they’re under some sort of trance, attributing their behaviour to the drugging methods Jungkook informed you of earlier. 
Though you also wouldn’t rule out the doings of Azazel knowing he’s the sin of Lust. 
“What do you want?” You question bleakly. 
“Your hand, darling.” He slides his tongue over his teeth. 
“Do more than just read her, and I’ll torture you in hell for eternity.” Jungkook scolds threateningly, jaw clenched and eyes smoldering. 
Azazel merely acknowledges Jungkook as you reach the eclectic demon. With a weirded out expression, you hesitantly present your hand to Azazel, who snatches you up as though he were a starving dog seeing meat for the first time. He immediately shoves the back of your hand against his nostrils, gaining a good, heady whiff of you. You try not to feel a sense of ickiness all over your body, suddenly feeling this certain shock that runs throughout all your veins. 
It feels uncomfortable at first, but suddenly transforms into this sharp pain flooding your bloodstream. You exclaim immediately, feeling as though knives were suddenly coursing through your arteries. You falter as the feeling crawls all over your skin, clutching your hand to your chest in a panic. 
“Human!” Jungkook worriedly approaches you, but stops once Azazel’s ominous red eyes warn him. 
You calm down for Jungkook’s sake, breathing through the aching intrusion. “I’m fine.. I’m fine, Jungkook.” 
You remember his words in an instant, enduring the pain as you focus on thinking about Jungkook. He needs to think you’re both together, right? What better way than to conjure up every appealing thought you’ve had of Jungkook? 
His lips, his body, his eyes, his rockstar hair, his sexy leather outfit that hugs him just right. His Adam's apple, his thick neck, his alluring voice, the attractive way he tongues his cheek. Not to mention the adorable way his eyes go round or his small, cute lips pucker into a pout. 
Your mind naturally drifts towards the thought of all those features, and how they ignite your core anytime you ponder them. His fingers? His tongue? His lips? What could they do in other places? Would he be fast or slow? Would he touch you right? Would he be rough or soft? 
You try to imagine how it would feel if he were to touch your pulsing clit, shuddering once you register that masculine roughness he has to them. You bite on your lip, center lighting up with wanton desire once you consider how his tongue would feel, and most of all, you wonder exactly what beast Jungkook hides in his pants. You practically scream all these things at yourself, prominently contemplating your attraction to Jungkook for Azazel. 
Though funny enough, you know deep down they were real thoughts you merely suppressed. 
Azazel continues to read your mind, your shut eyes too focused on honing in on your likeness for Jungkook until all the pain in your body suddenly stops. You exhale harshly, as though air was sucked out of your lungs once you return to Earth. You recall your place in reality and face Azazel, swallowing. 
“Hmm,” Azazel contemplates, suggestive, mirthy eyes gazing up at you. “She really does belong to you, boss.” 
You hear Jungkook let out a triumphant scoff, hands on his hips as he quirks a brow. 
“You’re all she seems to think about.” Azazel then eyes your figure up and down. “And they mainly seem to be very dirty.” 
That fact makes you physically choke, coughing out the spit that caught in your throat. You rip your hand out of Azazel’s hold, recovering from the hiccup. 
“T-the address, Azazel.” 
Azazel’s annoyed vision flits to the side as he leans back. He rolls his eyes, holding out his pointer and middle finger in the air. He suddenly flicks them to conjure up a piece of paper with a bright spark of flames. Its edges are burnt, though the integrity of the piece still holds up. 
You smile victoriously as you reach out for the paper, only for Azazel to suddenly retract it. 
“You owe me for this, boss.” 
Jungkook laughs dryly, suddenly feeling his presence beside you as he flattens his warm palm against the small of your back. “We’ll see about that in hell—what did you say? Second-rate lackey.” 
The term makes Azazel growl as a counter, finally nabbing the paper from him and nuzzling into Jungkook, proudly presenting it before him. 
“For you, my liege.” You bow as part of your skit, Jungkook clasping the paper. 
“Why thank you, my angel.” Jungkook responds in the same playful tone, bowing as well. 
He graciously snatches the paper from you and tucks it inside the pocket of his leather jacket you wear. He pats the pocket condescendingly before entangling his fingers with yours and tugging you flush against his side, saluting Azazel. 
“So long, Azazel. Hope you grow the balls one day to fight me in hell.” Jungkook snarks, cocking a proud brow. “We’ll see then who's more powerful. If you’re not too busy getting your balls taken care of here, that is.” 
Azazel literally spits at the ground you both walk on, Jungkook immediately clutching you close to him as he merrily laughs at his own remark. 
And honestly speaking, as obnoxious as Jungkook can be, you laugh, too. 
Hugging the paper with the address to your chest, Jungkook side-hugs you to him as the pair of you walk out together into the main area of the strip club. There’s a new stripper on stage now, and Nelly Furtado’s ‘Maneater’ fills the hooting club as you both make your triumphant exit. 
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The soft thrum of rock beats keep your eyes open, shifting in and out of sleep as you slump into your passenger seat. Jungkook sits at the wheel now, and despite only claiming he could drive, you admit he’s a pretty decent driver for someone who’s only learned through observation. 
You’re yet again falling asleep after the day’s tedious activities, cheek resting in your palm while you huddle into Jungkook’s warm leather jacket. It was oddly very comforting. 
“Hey, sleeping beauty.” Jungkook lightly hits your arm and you shoot up, grumbling with sleep-laden eyes. 
“What the fuck, Jungkook?” 
“Feel lucky I even called you beauty, you don’t look so hot right now.” 
You roll your eyes, not caring of your appearance after driving for God knows how long. You still run your fingers through your hair, however. “Fuck you.” 
You see in your peripheral Jungkook silently scoffing, chiding you with an expression of mimicry. You narrow your eyes into slits at him, huffing at how easily you both return to normal. You should’ve known whatever concern and care Jungkook was showing you was only for Azazel, there’s no way the daft idiot could even muster a single cell of decency. 
Jungkook suddenly toes at your shin, nearly kicking you awake once again. You turn around and face him with sheer annoyance. “Jungkook, what the fuck! Can’t you just fucking drive?!” 
“So you have dirty thoughts about me, huh?” Your throat cinches, your brain shuts down and you transform into the epitome of an error 404 not found code. You hold up a finger in protest as you buffer, lips struggling for a sentence. 
“I didn’t know I was always on your mind, angel.” Jungkook bounces his brows as he peers at you, but it seems like his expression completely depicts the opposite of what he says. He eyes as if he knows the inner workings of your brain, knows exactly what you think, what’s on your mind, and knows they’re not innocent like an angel. 
God, he’s so annoying. 
“Would you shut up? That was for Azazel. You wouldn’t have your precious address without me anyway, demon.” 
Jungkook scoffs, laughing at your rather cute act of denial. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, human.” Jungkook's hand once gripping the steering wheel then suddenly settles over your thigh, not squeezing or touching, but merely resting there as he refrains from doing anything compromising. 
His eyes then suddenly flit towards you.
“You seem to be quite the dirty little angel.” 
Your cheeks heat up, growing angry because.. fuck, did he actually have to be right? Why did it feel like he could see right through you? Like he could read you as though you were bearing all the pages of your book? You scrutinize him repulsively as you shove his hand off you, shuffling away from him further. 
“Whatever. You should be letting me sleep, asshole.” You counter in response. “And watch the fucking road.” 
Jungkook stifles a laugh in his throat as he returns his eyes to the road, his hand now resting over the console as he drives with one hand freely. You try not to flit down to his legs manspreading deliciously, or gaze at the veins that sprawl up his arm and his rough hand on the steering wheel. You even ignore the way he tongues his cheek as though he’s too amused. 
“Why did you keep calling me that?” 
Jungkook flickers towards you. “Huh?” 
“With Azazel, you kept calling me angel.” You grumble. “You only use that when you’re being an asshole.” 
Jungkook breathes a laugh through his nose, his vision focusing on the road as he handles the steering wheel. He swipes his lips with his tongue as he looks ahead, flexing his jaw. 
“I didn’t want him knowing your real name.” 
Your brows raise in light surprise, not expecting that concern to come from him even without putting on a show. 
“That’s rich coming from you.” You scoff. 
Jungkook cracks a smoldering smirk, hating that he was so obnoxiously attractive. “It’s rich that for an angel you have a lot of dirty thoughts.” 
You roll your eyes, shutting down the arousal that floods your core as you smack his bicep. Fuck Azazel for saying that aloud, and now fuck Jungkook for snickering about it to himself. You exhale tiredly as you tuck your hand underneath your cheek and force yourself to sleep, completely avoiding him. 
So what if you wanted to fucking jump his bones? It’s his fault for being so sexy. 
With a knowing smile and quirk of his brow, Jungkook leans over and turns the volume of the music down, continuing your journey under the dark sky with spangled stars. 
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Jungkook brings in the last of your luggage from the car into your motel room, setting down the heavy bags and suitcases in one-go. He appeared seriously fucking strong doing so, and suddenly the image of him hauling stuff like that was simply too hot to not watch. 
His shirt clings to his muscular body as he maneuvers your things around the room, filling up space the way it should. You laid on your tummy simply scrolling through your laptop, meant to be looking up the address of the club you’d received from Azazel. 
Instead, you watch Jungkook’s back muscles flex as he zips open his duffle bag, shuffling through his belongings. You genuinely wonder if it’s possible to be attracted to someone’s back. He’s just so incredibly broad and wide, his traps and shoulder blades adding to the breadth of his posterior. He seems strong enough to be able to manhandle you, but kind enough to be gentle about it. 
Suddenly you remember what your friends were all whispering about regarding Jungkook; the type of man that would let you do anything to him to gain your own pleasure. 
Fuck, would he ever let you ride his back? 
Jungkook stifles a laugh in his throat as his eyes shift to you, sexy smile on display with amused eyes. You become aware of your blatant ogling and hide behind the screen of your laptop, clearing your throat. 
“What’re you doing over there, angel?” 
You heat up once you realize he clearly saw you, though act as though absolutely nothing happened. “Nothing, I’m just researching the address we got.” 
You continue clicking through much of Google maps, only to find yourself coming up empty. That was the issue with the address you’d both earned from Azazel, it appeared like a normal address, though it didn’t show up on any maps or across the grand internet. 
“Have you found the exact address?” 
“Honestly, I’m having some trouble with it.” 
Jungkook furrows his eyebrows with a little confused noise, abandoning his things and joining you on the motel bed. He seats himself right next to you, and just as you begin explaining the conundrum, Jungkook leans in close and places a hand over your body. His fingers squish into the sheets next to you as he practically cages you on the bed, feeling a fluttering in your chest at his unusual proximity. The scent of his cologne mixed with the fabric softener he started to like set your nerves ablaze, never having expected Lucifer himself to smell so nice, be so suffocating. 
It was intoxicating, he was intoxicating. He’s simply leaning over you to closely peer at the screen, but you couldn’t help but feel your heart race in your chest, feel his presence permeate your back. 
“What’s troubling you?” 
You struggle with your sentences before you can find feasible words, attempting to not stare at his thick thigh through his ripped jeans right in your face. “I-yeah. Um, did Azazel give us the right address? I can’t seem to find the club.” 
Jungkook hums in understanding, cutely pursing his lips. “I see. Let me take a look.” 
To your surprise, Jungkook leans down directly over your head to type on your laptop, and you attempt to not squeal at how incredibly proximal he is now. He covers all of your upper body so easily, and you suddenly wonder what it would be like if he were on top of you. 
He’d probably completely dominate me. 
You hear Jungkook breathe a scoff above you, tentatively peering up to find that in fact, his chin could’ve been resting atop your head. You watch his gorgeous, thick fingers type over your laptop then, searching diligently as you silently grow warmer underneath him. 
“Hmm, I see what you mean.” Jungkook chimes as he drifts into thought, also coming up dry. “Azazel shouldn’t have lied to me, the princes of hell are incapable of doing so.” 
You tilt your head and peer up at him, chin resting in your hands as you swing your legs back and forth over the mattress. “Why so?” 
Jungkook smirks devilishly, eyes flitting down to you. “They know the hell they’re in for if they do.” 
You roll your eyes, how typical of Lucifer. Jungkook ticks his head, however, as he thinks, trying to piece together what to do now. He brings his pointer finger and thumb to his chin, contemplating. 
“Can I see the paper Azazel gave us?” 
You fish it out of Jungkook’s leather jacket that you were in fact still wearing, presenting it to him. You watch Jungkook stare at the paper in his hand, scrutinizing the living hell out of it. You watch the gears in his head shift until finally, Jungkook has an ah-hah moment. 
He brings the piece close to his pink lips and gently blows over the paper. You watch in surprise as it smolders in accordance with Jungkook’s breath, suddenly small text emerging in a searing heat underneath the original address. 
‘Only those with wings can truly see.’
Jungkook cracks a scoff as he finally understands, laughing to himself. “Azazel, you damn bastard.” 
“What does it mean?” You query curiously. 
“You can’t see it, but I can.” Jungkook explains. He shows you the paper and runs underneath the first part of the text, indicating it to you. “‘Only those with wings’ means celestial beings like angels and demons, they both have wings. Humans can’t see the address or location unless they’re with a celestial being.” 
“Ohh,” you nod your head in acknowledgement. “That makes so much more sense. Google maps just kept showing me this dead-end alleyway.” 
Jungkook clicks his tongue as he ruffles your hair. “Should’ve been using that big brain of yours instead of staring at me, angel.” 
You scoff underneath him, peering up through narrowed slits. “Shut up, I wasn’t staring at you.” 
“You were pretty clearly staring at me, sweetheart. Next time you want a piece of this,” he gestures towards his brawny body. “You can let me know.” 
You pretend-vomit as you shove him away from you, Jungkook chuckling as you prop yourself back up. “Get away from me, your egotistical head is too big.” 
“Nuh-uh” Jungkook tuts with a finger. “I may be egotistical, but I know what I saw. Just tell me you want me and it’ll solve all your problems, angel.” 
“And who said I want you? It’s not like you want me.” 
“Did I ever say I didn’t want you?” 
Your eyes fall open in surprise, Jungkook merely staring at you with his mirthy eyes. He even dares tilt his head as he intensifies his gaze, growing too flustered to consider what he just said. He’s clearly only playing with you. 
“Whatever,” you wave him off. You grab the physical map you’d purchased at a convenience store. “Just fucking circle where we need to go on this.” 
You’re presenting a map to Jungkook for actual work, but he then cunningly swipes it from your grasp. “Wait a minute, what map exactly?” 
You grievously complain as Jungkook holds the map too high for your height, cursing his long arms and how much larger he is in comparison to you. You practically climb his strong body and lap to retrieve the flimsy thing, only for Jungkook to retract it every time you think you’re close. 
“You have to try harder than that, angel.” You breathe out a fed-up chuckle as you reach with all your might, wildly struggling as he simply giggles at your attempts. You finally snatch the map out of his hand and let out a triumphant ‘ah-hah!’
But just as you celebrate, Jungkook unbalances you with his grasp and the weight of his body sends you toppling over, falling back against the bed. Jungkook falters directly over you, his hands either side of your head as you stare up at him in shock. 
Your hands are sprawled either side of your head, round eyes regarding him with sheer surprise. You notice the way Jungkook’s knee has settled right between your legs, causing you to fidget. You swallow watching the smirk on his face grow, all too amused by the compromising position. 
“Mmm,” Jungkook suddenly hums. “For an ‘innocent’ angel you seem very comfortable as a bottom, huh?” 
You suck in an immediate breath, hating how much this position lights your nerves on fire. An arousal shoots through your core as you attempt to appear normal, countering his comment with your own. 
“Funny, you don’t seem much like a top.” You were lying straight through your teeth, and you goddamn knew it. But nothing else really mattered as you flit between Jungkook’s lips and his eyes that gleam with mischief, another typical characteristic of Lucifer, you thought. 
“Ouu,” Jungkook hisses. “You really are a liar, aren’t you?” 
You stare him down in challenge as he slowly leans down towards you, examining your every feature. “Wonder who taught such a pure angel like you to sin so much.” His voice is so condescendingly low, you couldn’t help but squish your thighs together. 
“And I wonder who taught such an arrogant asshole like you manners. They seemed to have left out personal space.” 
Jungkook hisses yet again, head dipping for a dry laugh before refocusing his almost lust-ridden, fiery eyes back on you. “We need to do something about that attitude. Angels don't talk back.” 
“One, I’m a human, not an angel.” You snark wittily. “And two, what exactly will you do about my attitude, King of hell?” 
Jungkook wets his lip slowly, taking his time with it. He very obviously flits down over your body before he arrives at your face, lowering himself even more as his fingers slide into yours against the mattress. His proximity shoots waves of arousal through you, your once dry core now fluttering with anticipation. 
Goosebumps blossom over your skin as Jungkook comes exactly face to face with you, lips mere inches from yours as your body loses control. 
“You have no clue what I’ve got in mind,” he whispers, his deep voice travelling through you and right to your dampening pussy. “But once I’m done with you, you won’t be so pure anymore, angel.” 
Your breath hitches as Jungkook maintains his heated closeness, eyes flickering down to your lips as he seems seconds from connecting them, petals brushing yours as you taste his breath… only to finally collect yourself. Registering this as Jungkook’s crazy Lucifer attraction, you quickly shove him off you with a loud huff as you sit up on the sheets, muttering almost incoherently. 
“I’m going to take a shower.” You attempt to shake all the dirty thoughts about him out of your system, slipping into your slippers and making towards your luggage. 
Jungkook chuckles before tonguing his cheek while you search through your things, his thumb swiping across his bottom lip. He props a leg up on the bed, leaning his elbow over his knee as he regards you. 
“We should eat dinner after your shower, human.” He nonchalantly says, as though absolutely nothing happened between you just now. Funny, you should’ve known Jungkook was playing, it’s practically the only trait Lucifer has. “You get to choose, remember.” 
“I do. You’ll have to eat whatever I want, though. No complaints.” You gain the courage to look him in the eye, and honestly laugh shyly when you find him very obviously checking you out. Or just looking? You didn’t know, but sitting like that while purposefully peering at you seemed evident enough. 
“No complaints here.” He held up his hands in mock surrender, ticking his head towards the shower. “Go, I’ll be here if you need anything.” 
You nod in response, and try to divert yourself from considering the fact that you’ll be in a room over from Jungkook, showering and naked. 
You wonder what he looks like naked. 
Jitters crawl all over your body and you snap yourself out of it, rapidly nabbing your clothes and rushing towards the bathroom without a single thought. You stand in the doorframe and peek back into the room, only to see Jungkook bouncing his brows just to tease you with a little wave, and you roll your eyes as you slam the door shut. 
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Shutting the shower nozzle close, you let out a sigh as you finish. You wanted to smack your head against the shower wall repeatedly, horrendously until it produced an answer for why in God’s name Jungkook made you feel like this. 
Why did you like him on top of you like that? Why were his lips so goddamn tempting? Maybe it really was the Lucifer effect he has on you and practically anyone he comes into contact with, but you groan once you realize this feels stronger. 
If it were merely the effect of Jungkook, then you shouldn’t like it so much, should you? It feels as though it isn’t an arbitrary attraction anymore, but rather a voluntary desire that keeps manifesting itself everytime you’re near him. Maybe the effect is just stronger on humans, you didn’t know. But what you did know is that you wanted him, and it did not originate from whatever spell Jungkook always manages to cast upon you. 
You smack your forehead as you emerge from the shower, spotting your clothes for tonight’s outing and drying yourself with a towel nearby. You wrap it around your chest as you proceed to apply moisturiser and your usual skin care routine, plugging in a blow dryer for your hair before sorting through your clothes for your undergarments. 
Only to realize, they weren’t here. 
You immediately gasp as a hand covers your agape mouth. Your dumbass really didn’t think to bring your bra and panties when you were angrily snatching your clothes in front of Jungkook. You feel dread overcome you as you contemplate needing to venture out into the motel room for your clothes, stepping anxiously in your spot as nerves flood your system. 
You take a deep breath once you realize that they’re merely your clothes, and whether or not Jungkook lets you live this down, at least you didn’t go completely commando out to dinner with him. 
Mustering every speck of courage in the world, you crack the bathroom door open to take a small glimpse, expecting to see Jungkook maybe sprawled on his bed and watching TV, but only finding an empty mattress. 
“Jungkook?” You call quietly, hoping for a response. You don’t hear anything though, sparking your light concern. You meander out a little further and call his name again, but gain no answer. You presume he could be out of your room right now, using this as your golden opportunity. You scamper towards your bag with all your delicates in only a measly towel, clutching it loosely from falling out of place as you scrounge through your bag. 
You rapidly put together a matching set and instantly zip your bag shut, barging it back into your suitcase. You swivel around to make a risky break for it, only to run smack dab into someone’s rock hard chest. Suppressing the desire to cry, you recognize it anywhere, complaining as you rub your forehead from the contact. 
“What are you doing?” 
Your face heats up, carefully meeting Jungkook’s gaze as you see him fully clothed, while you’re naked and wet underneath a towel. The thought pries your embarrassed eyes away from him, clutching your garments to your chest in order to conceal them, but his sharp eyes can clearly discern what they are.
Damn his Lucifer abilities.
“I-I’m sorry. I just forgot something..” Your eyes flit everywhere but at Jungkook, who stands firmly in place without even the slightest bit of shame, towering over you. 
“You could’ve asked me to grab them for you.” Jungkook proclaims, his voice velvet-like and practically serenading you. 
“This isn’t something you can exactly grab.” You state. “It’s embarrassing.” 
“What’s so embarrassing about you being a woman?” Jungkook suddenly asks, still unable to meet his gaze, and you’re honestly glad Jungkook doesn’t demand it out of you either. His voice seems softer now however, almost understanding you. 
“Nothing, but it’s just…” You trail, not feeling exactly uncomfortable about him here, but feeling quite bare and open. All your intimate parts are covered, yes, but the mere idea that only a layer separating him from witnessing what lies underneath leaves you almost mortified. What if you’re not desirable at all to him? What would he think about your stretch marks? Your scars? All the flaws that you adorn? 
It leaves you clutching the towel even tighter, the very thought making you swallow a wad down your throat. Jungkook seems to notice your unease, and his expression falls from one of his usual amusement to seriousness. 
He very carefully, and hesitantly juts out his hand towards your hair. He considerately watches your reaction as his fingers meet a certain strand dangling in your eyesight, and he gently casts it behind your ear. His fingertips naturally fall to your chin, and you instinctively peer at him as he holds you ever so delicately. 
“You don’t have to be embarrassed with me, Y/N. I’m not expecting anything from you.” Jungkook clarifies, his tone uber soft. “Is that what you think of me?” 
“No.. I just,” you pause, searching for better wording. “Don’t know what you’ll think of me.” 
Jungkook furrows his brows, as though contemplating how that’s even something you could say.  He light-heartedly laughs as he looks to the ground, then peers back up at you. His eyes have softened into those round orbs of coffee, noticing that his eyes actually had a tendency to emit this natural glow, almost like a shimmer of stars. 
“You really think I’d be the type of guy that judges a woman’s body? Or her bra and panties?” 
You suck in a breath listening to his pretty lips say those words, gently nibbling on your lip as your tentative sight meets his. 
“If there’s one thing you should know about me, angel.” Jungkook begins, still cradling your chin. “You never have to be ashamed of yourself around me. I’m Lucifer, baby. All your sins, your secrets, your darkest thoughts.. I got you.” 
Jungkook steps closer to you, closing the space between your bodies as he releases heat that only warms you up, both inside and on the outside. He then closes the space between you two ever so slowly, lip brushing your ear as he whispers. 
“Even the dirty ones.” 
 His words ignite a lustful fire inside you, wondering a million heart-pumping possibilities with him so close to you, but choosing your gratitude over your horniness. You and Jungkook are merely a team, not a relationship waiting to happen. And so you crack a smile as you find yourself gazing into his eyes, wondering where this was coming from, and contemplating that maybe Jungkook... really isn’t half bad. 
That was, until he opened his mouth. 
“But if you’re like a furry or something, I’m gonna have to pass.” 
You scoff as you propel his chest away from you, shooting a repulsed expression his way. “Let’s just go to dinner, jackass.” 
Jungkook laughs as he watches you march away, flickering back to scold him, but only seeing his lips curving into this rather attractive bunny-like smile, wondering why the fuck Lucifer had to be blessed with such cute lips. 
And also wondering what it would feel like to kiss them. You didn’t know you’d find out later that night, or that Jungkook is in fact hotter than hell. 
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2K notes · View notes
minyfic · a month ago
bewitch - JJK | M
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↣ Jungkook misses you, he yearns for your touch, your smile, your body, but the virtual form of your presence would have to tame his impatience.
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pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: fluff, smut, slight angst
word count: 2.7K
warnings/tags: idol au, established relationship au, soft bf JK, ldr for now, strong language, explicit smut- filming during sex, dirty talk, biting/scratching, hickeys, finger sucking, breast play, fingering, brief handjob, spanking, oral (f), multiple positions, multiple orgasms, lazy doggy, praise kink, degradation, unprotected sex, choking, masturbation
a/n: was thinking about an LDR with JK and I felt like this is how he would be
“I miss you.”
Jungkook’s able to clear up the coffee table and hold the phone with his shoulder as he speaks, complains.
He hears your laugh filter through the speaker, causing a small smile to lift the corners of his mouth.
“We’re literally gonna see each other in a few days.”
“I know,” he whines, rinsing his hands then patting them dry, “but I still miss you. Even more. With each day.”
“Aw Kook. I—”
He hears someone call your name, and he knows that it’s time for you to go.
“I’ll speak to you later,” he sighs, shuffling into the lounge with a dejected slump to his shoulders.
“Yeah. I’ll send you a message and if you’re up, I’ll call you.”
“But don’t stay up late! I know you must be tired,” he can picture the threateningly cute wag of your finger, booping his nose to warn him about his bad habit of staying up too late. Mostly because he wants to talk to you. He needs to. But time zones exist. Ruining everything.
“Alright. I won’t.”
He plops on the couch, waiting for the three words that cause his heart to beat thunderously as if it’s the first time he’s hearing it.
“I love you.”
Grinning to himself, he pats his cheek that’s now warm, feeling like a lovestruck teen, “I love you too.”
He holds the phone close to his ear until he hears the beep to indicate that you’ve hung up.
These past few weeks have been excruciatingly painful for Jungkook. He’s accustomed to his busy schedule, that isn’t the issue. The issue is that he can’t go a day without seeing you, holding you, being in your company. After almost a year of being attached by the hip, you had to travel abroad to visit the company’s other branches. He knows that it’s your job, that you’re forced to follow your boss’ orders, but he can’t help but feel bitter. You’ve left the country for a business trip. You left him.
The pictures on his phone don’t do justice to your pretty features as his thumb swipes against the screen aggressively. But he knows that he’s been keeping something, something special, for times like these, when the feeling of longing becomes overwhelming and he wants nothing but to cradle your face and kiss each corner, each crevice as much as he can.
He jogs over to the window and closes the blinds, rushing down the hallway to grab his video camera from where it’s buried under his socks.
He returns to the lounge with a devilish smirk, switching on the video camera impatiently and fluffing up the pillows on the couch to sink into with a sigh, eager fingers scrolling through the recordings to find his untouched, yet treasured recording. It’s silent around him, except for the bustle from the city life below, his hyungs aren’t around and he has the place all to himself.
When he finds the video, he’s been searching for desperately, a satisfied ‘aha’ echoes in the space as he leans back against the cushions, spreading his legs to find a comfortable position.
The first thing he sees are your cute toes, painted in white, panning out to expose the smile he has been yearning to see for so long, heart stuttering in his chest. You’re wearing a black camisole and panties to match, head cocking to the side as you walk down his hallway, leaning against the wall, sporting an annoyed, yet playful simper as you stare into the camera.
Despite him not being in the frame, he pictures what he wore that night, just his boxers as you lazed around. He resists the urge to skip to the best part and watches you reach for the camera, only for your hand to drop with an exasperated laugh.
“What are you doing?”
“Tell me, Y/N. What are you doing?”
Jungkook grimaces, he has to endure his cheesy talk.
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You spin around, swaying your hips, “celebrating.”
He chuckles, bottom lip getting caught between his teeth when he catches sight of your ass.
“What are you celebrating?”
Your eyes hold love and adoration as your gaze flickers from the lens to his face, fingers curling around his neck to pull him down for a sloppy, lingering kiss. Jungkook’s just as breathless as you when you break apart, with the camera capturing each moment, watching the both of you. Even as you start to dance again.
Mouth twisting into a smile that Jungkook thinks is devious and full of mischief, you curl your index finger and gesture for him to follow you into his room.
He smacks your ass, enjoying the way you yelp, and tickles the heel of your foot as you crawl onto the bed, patting the space next to you, head propped up by your elbow that rests on the mattress.
Your fingers dance across the skin of his thigh as he kneels in front of you, holding the camera with one hand, the other is occupied with brushing your hair away from your face.
“My boyfriend and I have been together for ten months, so I’m celebrating,” you giggle, wearing a proud smile.
Jungkook winks at you, fixated on the way you seem to glow in the frame as he moves closer, palm smoothing up your thigh, lens following the movement.
“How do you plan to celebrate, Y/N?”
Despite your eyeroll, you entertain him, grabbing his hand to intertwine your fingers, lips pressing into his knuckles.
“We just went out, for dinner—”
“Mhm, and what else?”
Jungkook’s teasing you now, there’s something so sexy about the face you make whenever you’re peeved by his antics, but at the same time you’re holding back a laugh, mouth quirking to the side.
“We were supposed to shower, actually,” you pause, glancing at your clothes, or lack thereof, “I was getting ready to have a nice hot bath, but he decided that we should sit around and make silly videos on his bed.”
He peers over the camera, narrowing his eyes at you, you mirror his facial expression.
“I doubt it’s silly, maybe he has something up his sleeve,” he pinches your cheek, moving up on the bed so he’s hovering over you, camera held high, giving your eyes a more innocent tilt as you watch him through your lashes.
You unclasp his fingers and hold his index finger to your mouth, “I wonder what that could be.”
Jungkook’s cock stirs in his boxers as you take his finger into your mouth, tongue pressing into the calloused skin, moving it in and out of your pink lips.
He tries to think of something funny to say, but you’re kissing his wrist, glossy lips skimming the ink on his arm, he lets you pull him down next to you, camera secure in his palm when you straddle his lap.
The bottom half of your body is in the frame, palms running up and down his chest, hair brushing the tops of your breasts that bulge out of your camisole when you squeeze them together.
He’s mesmerized by the image of you, hand sliding up to cup your breast over the thin fabric, thumb and forefinger pinching your pebbled nipple.
“Your boyfriend is very lucky, Y/N,” he breathes, kneading your flesh, then moving to the other, earning soft sighs from your pretty lips.
“Jungkook,” you whimper, rocking your hips on his growing erection.
He can feel your slick dampen the fabric of his boxers and he grips your hair, flipping you over in a millisecond.
You chuckle, biting his chin and moving down to his neck. He tightens his grip on the camera, groaning when you take his nipple between your teeth.
He hopes the camera picks up the sound of his large palm meeting your ass, rippling as he massages the warm flesh.
You’re suckling on the skin between his pecs, and he growls, sitting up in a hurry to position the camera on the dresser that’s a few feet away from his bed.
As soon as he climbs onto the mattress, your lips are on his, tongues sliding against each other, teeth clacking as he holds you close to him, bodies sharing heat.
“Fuck. You know you drive me crazy,” he grits, both hands free to grab your ass, pulling you flush against him.
He knows, by your smirk, he knows that you know what he’s referring to.
For no reason at all, you decided to tease him all week, whenever he was busy at work, with messages, pictures and videos. But also refused to have sex with him. Just because.
Just because you know that you have him wrapped around your finger, that no one else could ever have him the way you do.
“Now,” he growls, tugging on your panties and tossing it over his shoulder, nipping the skin of your inner thigh, “I get to have you the way I want.”
You whine, hips bucking when his breath wafts over your core in hot puffs.
Jungkook delivers a broad stripe up your dripping folds. He knows that you can’t resist him, your soaking pussy tells him how much you missed his tongue, his fingers and his cock. He knows that you love to challenge yourself, which is agonizing for him too.
He wants to make you suffer, the way he did, but the wanton cries of his name urge him to flick his tongue against your clit, parting your folds with the wet muscle.
“Jungkook,” he groans when your fingers tug on his hair, feet sliding across the sheets so they’re flat against the mattress, hips working in a circular motion, pressing your pussy into his mouth.
Jungkook relishes in the way your hot pussy clenches around his fingers as soon as he sinks them into your heat, massaging your ridged walls, back arching when he sucks your throbbing clit into his mouth.
His tongue slides along your clit in tandem with his fingers pushing into your tight hole, slick dripping down his fingers.
Jungkook could have his tongue on your pussy, fingers buried deep inside you, all day. And when he voices his desires, you cry out, both hands pushing his face back into your pussy, grinding on his tongue.
“Fuck, yes. Right there.”
Jungkook smiles against your folds, fingers hooking inside you, rubbing the sweet spot with slow, purposeful movements, ensuing a string of breathless moans from your parted lips.
The way your thighs tremble around his face is an indication that he needs to speed up, lips pursing around your clit, fingers disappearing into your cunt even faster. He slurps up your juices like a man starved, moaning and humming into your pussy at the sweet taste.
You thrash and wriggle beneath him, his fingers press down on your abdomen to keep you in place, cock twitching when you drench his tongue, shivering as you reach your high, hips lifted off the bed so you can drag out the ecstasy, pants filling the hot air.
He places one last kiss on your clit and removes his fingers, ensuring that you watch him suck on your essence when he settles between your thighs.
“That was amazing,” you sigh, lips dragging along his jaw, “thank you.”
This is one of the reasons why he loves you, you’re incredibly sweet and delicate, and that’s how he managed to fall for you, but he doesn’t forget about the vixen that makes an appearance every so often.
The scent that’s indescribably you thickens in his nostrils. He takes a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut when your hand squeezes around his clothed cock.
“I was gonna make you beg for it,” he admits, voice a bit strained when you pull his cock out of his boxers.
Your eyebrow jumps, lips brushing his, “yeah?”
“Yeah,” he bites down on his lip when your thumb splits the tip, smearing the precum along his shaft.
“Well then, why didn’t you?”
He grabs your wrist when you start to pump his length a bit faster, pinning your hand on the pillow and wrapping his other hand around your throat, eyes set on yours, filled with lust.
“Because I—”
“Because you couldn’t stop yourself.”
The wild look in your eyes has all the blood surging through his veins to rush straight to his cock, fingers and thumb pressing into the sides of your throat. Your lips part, one hand snaking up his back, nails piercing into his shoulder blades as you wrap your legs around his waist, pussy grazing his cock.
Your gaze doesn’t falter as he reaches down and grips the base of his cock, letting the head nudge your clit.
“Such a minx,” he whispers, tugging on your bottom lip, setting his weight on your body, cock sliding through your warm folds.
“You love it, don’t you?”
He shakes his head, chuckling when you gasp upon his fingers tightening around your throat.
“I like it better when you’re my needy little slut, begging to have my cock stuffed in your pussy.”
Your hips meet each glide of his heavy cock against your cunt, fingers pushing down his boxers for him to kick it off.
Jungkook hates how composed you are while he’s trying so hard not to slam into your pussy and fuck you into the mattress, until you’re trembling beneath him. His fingers press into your neck and you moan, eyes slipping shut. He takes the opportunity to sink his cock into you, walls hugging his throbbing length.
He pounds into you, groaning when you chomp down on his shoulder, leaving purple blooms with each suck and thrust into quivering pussy.
In one swift movement, he grabs your hand and twists you around so you’re lying on your stomach, cock slipping out in the process.
He nudges your legs open and keeps both your hands behind your back in one of his, cock dragging between your plump ass cheeks to push into your clenching hole, cries and whimpers of his name filling the air.
With each roll of his hips, he finds himself tumbling closer to the edge, balls slapping against your clit, sweaty chest meeting your back as he mumbles into your ear, gripping your chin harshly.
“This is what I love. When you’re a blubbering mess for my cock.”
You tilt your head so your lips cover his in a searing kiss, body jolting up the bed with each ruthless snap of his hips, walls closing around his thick cock.
He grunts, sensing your high approach with each drag of his cock along your walls, bulbous head reaching deep inside you.
“Fuck, so good. You take my cock so good.”
The way your hair sticks to your neck, lips swollen, eyes half-lidded with pleasure, fingers twisting into the sheets, he wants to have that sight etched into his mind forever.
He admires the dip in your back, stilling his hips for a moment, enamored by the sight of your flushed cheeks, lip tucked between your teeth, ass moving back to grind on his cock, searching for friction. He draws away, fingers pressing into the meat of your hips, holding on to it as he reaches his end, shooting into you with a long, drawn-out groan.
Hearing your breathless chuckle, he collapses and huffs into the pillow, wrapping an arm around your waist loosely.
His hand will never mimic the pleasure your pussy provides, the overwhelming satisfaction that washes over him as his breathing evens out, soft kisses being pressed into his scalp.
“Thank you,” he beats you to it, cheek pressing into the pillow as he turns his head to smile at you, “that was great.”
Jungkook leans into your touch as you place your palm over his cheek, drawing patterns on your lower back.
You scoot closer to him, nose brushing his, eyelashes tickling his skin.
“You’re welcome.”
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With one last twist around his throbbing tip, Jungkook grips the base of his cock and spills onto his pajama shirt, tugging at his balls, twitching as he relaxes into the couch.
He picks up the camera, that’s laying sideways on the carpet, and switches it off, waddling down the hallway to the bathroom.
As he cleans himself up and flings the messy shirt into the laundry basket, he can’t help the nagging thought that resurfaced straight after the recording ended.
He misses you more now.
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a/n: please don’t feel shy to send in feedback, hearing your thoughts serve as motivation :)
talk to my characters
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taglist: @ggukkieland @moonchild1 @mwitsmejk @fancycollectormoon @nglmrk @bex-92br @taeslarityy @helenazbmrskai @deliciouslydisturbed365
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amourtae · 20 days ago
Wanderlust With You | jjk. masterlist
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wanderlust; a strong desire to travel
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↠ pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader
↠ summary: Your loving husband, Jungkook whisks you away to a sheltered tropical paradise for 7 days, away from all troubles and worries. Days and nights are spent with the two of you being wholly immersed in one another, soaking in all the pleasure you possibly can before having to return home to your little prince, Jaehyun.
↠ genre: established relationship au, pwp, fluff, smut, dilf!jungkook, married!jungkook
↠ rating: 18+
↠ wordcount: short drabbles - length will vary
↠ warnings: swearing & explicit sexual content. specific warnings will be given with each drabble.
↠ a/n: REPOST. hello loves <3 here is the masterlist for my first mini series! it was initially posted on my old account @hantaev & i will be reposting & continuing this series on my new blog. i hope you enjoy this series & if you would like to be added to the taglist then please do let me know by sending me an ask or commenting under this post ☺️! i will also be taking requests for it & so if you have anything you’d like me to incorporate then please do say so! happy reading <3
↠ credits: banner by the lovely @vantecaffe 💛
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day 1: in which jungkook rails you against the shower wall. [2.5K]
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day 2: in which jungkook eats you out at the pool. [3K]
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day 3: in which you ride jungkook whilst watching the sunset.
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day 4: in which you and jungkook spend a day in one another’s arms.
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day 5: in which you decide there’s no better way to wake jungkook up other than morning sex.
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day 6: in which you and jungkook decide to make the most of your last day, provoking him to share a thought he’s been hiding from you for a while.
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day 7: in which you and jungkook fly back home to your lovely son and you give him the surprise he’s been dearly waiting for.
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taglist is open! if you’d like to be added to it, please let me know 🥰 this is my new account, just incase anyone gets confused seeing this! an explanation can be found here as to why i deactivated & made a new one 💛
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sunshinerainbowsbts · a day ago
Mugs & Kisses | JJK
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Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
Genre: fluff, Barista!AU, strangers to lovers
Rating: T
Warnings: kissing, Taehyung is a bit of a rapscallion, general silliness, this fic may cause your teeth to rot - my apologies to your dentists
Word Count: 6k
Disclaimer: SFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me
Summary: Jungkook has something he'd like to tell you, but he can't find the words. So he's thought of another way.
A/N: I wrote this for ficscafe's au pairing event, using prompt fifty-two: ceo x barista ; where the barista unknowingly writes daily cute little messages on the cup of the richest person in the country. Put my own little spin on it, and set it at Christmas time because I am a sucker for holiday fluff. Unbeta'd as usual. I'd love to know what you think - my inbox is always open! 💕
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The bell chimed as the door to the coffee shop swung open. Jungkook’s head popped up above the counter where he was crouching as he cleaned, looking around frantically to see if someone had just walked in.
“Don’t worry, it’s not her,” Taehyung’s low voice droned over his shoulder.
“It’s not?” Jungkook whipped his head around to gawk at his coworker, who leaned casually on the cash register in front of him, waiting for the customer in line to put away his phone and give his order. “I mean, uh, what are you talking about?”
Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Her. You know. The woman you’ve been making eyes at for the last month or so? Always comes in on Saturdays at this time of morning, always orders a caramel macchiato to go. And you always stare at her like a lovestruck puppy the entire time.”
Jungkook felt his face heating. Was he really that obvious?
He didn’t get a chance to refute Taehyung’s words before the door chimed again, and you swept in.
It must’ve started flurrying outside, Jungkook realized, from the snowflakes that dotted your hair and face, tiny drops of white that melted away as the heat of the coffee shop slowly thawed you. You peeled off your gloves and queued up behind Taehyung’s customer. He watched as you scanned the menu that hung on the wall behind him, eyes flicking back and forth as if mulling over your options, even though you always ordered the same drink.
Jungkook thought you had the prettiest eyes he’d ever seen.
“Kook,” Taehyung’s voice broke through his reverie. “Large dark roast, with one shot of espresso, to go, for Yoongi.”
Jungkook sprang into action. “Got it.” He snatched a cup, grabbed his fine tip marker, wrote “Yoongi” on it in loopy lettering, then set about making the drink. Once finished, he stepped to the end of the counter and called out “Yoongi!” A sleepy-looking man with pink hair wandered up and took his drink with a grunt that Jungkook assumed meant “Thanks.”
When he returned to his spot by Taehyung at his register, you were already placing your order.
“Medium caramel macchiato to go, please,” you chirped, your voice the sweetest melody to Jungkook’s ears.
Taehyung asked your name and you mentioned it as Jungkook remained rooted to the spot, gazing at you softly.
“Did you get that, Kook?” Taehyung repeated your name. Jungkook blinked and nodded, reaching for a cup and his marker. He started to write, then paused, thinking hard.
A minute passed.
“Uh, are you planning on making that drink anytime soon?” Taehyung asked, smirking at his friend. “Or did you want to ogle our customer a little more?” Jungkook glanced up, relieved to see that you had wandered off to wait for your drink, well out of earshot of Taehyung’s teasing. He shot his friend a dark look, then finished what he was writing and hurried off to make your drink.
You heard your name called out a minute later and walked up to the counter where the doe-eyed barista stood. He didn’t acknowledge you, focused on cleaning his equipment, but you thanked him anyway and picked up your cup. Stopping by the door to put your gloves back on, you shifted the drink in your hands, noting in happy wonder that, below your name, there was an intricate, beautifully etched snowflake, with “Stay warm!” scrawled beside it.
A week later, an amused Jungkook watched as a pile of shopping bags on legs burst through the door of the coffee shop. It trundled up to the counter, a pair of bewitching eyes peeking over the tops of the packages.
“Hi!” your voice rang out. “Can I get a medium caramel macchiato, to go, please?” Your face appeared as you lowered the bags, gingerly juggling them as you attempted to reach for your wallet.
“Starting your holiday shopping?” Taehyung questioned as you handed him your card.
“Finishing it!” you trilled cheerfully.
“Wow, this early? It’s only the beginning of December! I’m impressed.”
You shrugged, a pleased smile crossing your lips. “I like to get an early start, beat the crowds.”
As you and Taehyung chatted, Jungkook’s hands worked swiftly, his marker flying over your cup. He half-listened to your conversation, wishing he could join in. You and Taehyung struck up an easy rapport, gabbing away while Jungkook worked on your order.
He envied the way Taehyung could talk to anyone. Jungkook sometimes found it hard to say what he was thinking, especially if he was excited. He’d get overwhelmed and the message would get mixed up, words jumbling together somewhere between his brain and his mouth.
When a beautiful woman like you got his heart racing, he’d lose his words completely.
He didn’t realize how long he was taking until Taehyung raised an eyebrow at him, silently asking what he was waiting for. Jungkook ignored him and scurried off to make your drink.
You managed to rearrange your purchases by the time your order was ready, giving yourself a free hand. As you reached for your cup, thanking the dark-haired barista who was once again occupied with wiping down his workstation, you giggled at the detailed drawing of a cute little elf, a tiny gift box in its hands with your name written across it.
“Hoseok!” Jungkook called out, pushing a tray of drinks towards the edge of the counter.
“Jin!” He slid another tray forward.
Another busy Saturday in December. Only two weeks left until Christmas. The closer the holidays got, the more hectic the little shop became, gallons of coffee flying out the door as sleep-deprived shoppers fueled themselves for more retail madness.
Normally, this made Jungkook happy, because it meant the hours ticked by faster - and he usually left with bigger tips. But today, he wasn’t particularly enjoying himself.
He tried to convince himself that it had nothing to do with the fact that you hadn’t been in this morning, for the first time in weeks. That was certainly Taehyung’s theory, which he’d told Jungkook during their break, complaining that Jungkook’s sour mood was killing his “vibe,” whatever that meant. But he wouldn’t give Taehyung the satisfaction of agreeing with him.
Jungkook was in the middle of whipping up another tray of eggnog lattes when he heard Taehyung call out your name. As he dusted nutmeg over the drinks, he risked a swift peek at the register, where you stood talking at the blue-haired man taking your order. You were the last customer in line, which meant Taehyung could catch his breath and rest for a minute, before the next crowd shuffled in and the frenzy started all over again.
Jungkook quickly handed out the lattes, then hopped over to grab a cup for your order. Spotting a sly glance leveled his way, Jungkook understood with a sinking feeling that Taehyung was going to take advantage of the lull not to relax, but to bask in his favorite pastime - torturing Jungkook.
“I’m guessing you weren’t out shopping, since you are shopping bag free today,” Taehyung mused as he leaned towards you, resting his chin in his hand. “Not to mention you don’ t look like you’ve been fighting the crowds. No one who’s been out in those throngs could come in here looking as pretty as you do.”
Jungkook frowned as his marker swirled your name over the cup.
“Oh, no, I just needed my weekly fix of macchiato,” you answered, smiling sweetly in return. “I would’ve been here earlier this morning, but I slept through my alarm.”
“Late night?” Taehyung cocked an eyebrow.
You shot him a conspiratorial wink. “Oh yeah. This project I’m finishing for work kept me up all night.”
“Hmph, how rude of it. Well, I’m glad you came in. Wouldn’t be a good Saturday without my weekly fix of you.” He grinned, lips revealing a brilliant, boxy smile, hitting you with the full dazzling Taehyung charm.
Something that sounded like a rather annoyed grunt sounded from your left, and you turned to curiously eye the shaggy-haired barista standing next to Taehyung. He must’ve felt your gaze, because he suddenly looked up. As your eyes met, he froze.
You were struck by the thought that he very much resembled a deer caught in headlights.
After a few seconds, he seemed to snap out of it and spun on his heel, rushing off to make your drink. You cocked your head, wondering what that was all about.
“Sorry about him. Overcaffeinated. Hazard of the job.” Taehyung commented dryly.
You peered at the flirty employee standing at the register. “I’m sure it is.”
Your gaze kept snapping back to the tall barista crafting your drink. You watched him work in thoughtful silence, suddenly remembering something.
“Oh, do you have comment cards?” you asked Taehyung. “I wanted to tell your bosses how much I love the little holiday illustrations on your cups! They’re so cute and festive!”
Jungkook’s ears perked up. He tried to lean towards the conversation as unobtrusively as possible.
“The… holiday illustrations?” Taehyung repeated in a puzzled tone.
“You know, the drawings? Snowflakes and elves? I really like them.” You beamed. “They even look hand drawn, like a little personal touch. It’s a nice change from the plain cups.” Catching the confusion on his face, your smile began to falter.
“I have no idea what y-“
“Here you go, miss!” Jungkook cut Taehyung off as he set your drink at the end of the counter.
You strode towards the other handsome barista. As ever, his eyes were averted, but you caught a slight nod when you thanked him. Grabbing your drink, you twirled it in your hands until you saw your name. You grinned and brandished the cup towards Taehyung.
“I think this one is my favorite!” you giggled as you displayed a little reindeer, its antlers all tangled up in Christmas lights, the caption ‘Oh deer’ hanging above its head. “Thanks, guys!”
As the door closed behind you, Taehyung scrutinized Jungkook carefully, realization slowly dawning across his face. “Ohhhhhhh,” he crowed.
“Shut up,” Jungkook growled, walking away.
“So, what will our artist-in-residence be sketching tomorrow, hmmm?” Taehyung teased Jungkook the following Friday. “Santa Claus? Christmas tree? Do you decide these things ahead of time, or do you find inspiration in the moment?”
“Don’t you have some work you should be doing right now?” Jungkook retorted as he tried to focus on the gingerbread latte he was crafting. Taehyung was crowding his workspace. “Cleaning? Restocking? Literally anything else?”
“Mmmm, nope,” Taehyung intoned. He draped himself across the counter to Jungkook’s left, not close enough to be in Jungkook’s way as he worked, but just close enough to be a major nuisance anyway. “You know what you should draw?”
Jungkook sighed, defeated. “What’s that?”
“Your phone number.”
“How… how do I draw a phone number?”
Taehyung stared at Jungkook.
Jungkook stared at Taehyung.
Taehyung sighed. “Dude. I just mean, give her your number already.”
Jungkook scowled. “Order ready for Namjoon!” He handed the drink to a tall man in glasses who flashed a dimple-laden smile. “Will you please drop it?” Taehyung had been hounding him about giving you his phone number all week.
Jungkook slipped past his friend, bolting for the stockroom in the hopes of ending the conversation. But Taehyung simply followed, undeterred.
“I don’t understand what the big deal is,” Taehyung went on as Jungkook paced the stockroom, pretending to take inventory of the cups and lids. “You like her, right? What do you have to lose?”
“I just… don’t you think that’s a little cheesy? Hey pretty lady, here’s my phone number! Call me!” Jungkook punctuated his words with finger guns, aiming at Taehyung.
“Well, yeah, if you do it like that, it’s definitely cheesy. Creepy, too.” Taehyung quipped. “Just write your number on her cup and leave it up to her. If she’s interested, she’ll call. If she’s not, she won’t. No harm done.”
“I don’t know,” Jungkook fretted. “What if she thinks it’s weird? Some random guy hitting on her? Or what if I make her uncomfortable? That’s the last thing I want!” Resigned to Taehyung’s nagging, he abandoned his inventory scheme and walked back out to the counter, knowing Taehyung would be on his heels.
“You’re overthinking this,” Taehyung declared.
“Maybe. Maybe not.” Jungkook waffled, turning to look at his friend. “I think I’d feel better about slipping her my number if we’d ever talked before. We haven’t even exchanged a simple ‘hello’.”
Taehyung and Jungkook jumped, both surprised to find you standing at the counter, smiling brightly. Neither had heard the door open while they were in the stockroom.
“We gotta get a louder bell,” Taehyung murmured.
“Is it always this quiet on a Friday?” you wondered out loud as you surveyed the nearly empty shop. Pulling off your pink knit hat, you shook the snow from the fluffy pom-pom before unraveling your matching scarf.
“You just missed the morning rush,” Taehyung told you. “The usual, to go?”
Jungkook automatically picked up a cup and reached for his marker when you shook your head.
“Actually, could I have that for here instead?” You held up a laptop case. “Need to get some work done, wanted a little change of scenery.”
Jungkook slowly lowered the cup as Taehyung grinned widely.
“Of course! We’ll be happy to have your company today.” Taehyung rang you up as Jungkook marched rotely over to the espresso machine, lost in thought. “Have a seat and we’ll bring it right out.”
You chose a table by the window where you could watch the crowds drift by. Shedding your winter gear, you sat down and started typing away as you waited.
The shop was quiet save for some tinny holiday music rattling out of a speaker overhead. But after a few minutes, you thought you detected a whispered argument, a few choice expletives being hurled back and forth in hushed tones. You chose to mind your business and kept focused on your work.
You were so in the zone that you didn’t realize someone was hovering over you until they cleared their throat. You glanced up, startled.
The handsome barista with the big eyes was staring down at you. Jungkook, that was his name. He seemed almost as spooked as you. “Sorry. I, uh, didn’t mean to scare you.” He held out a large cup on a saucer. “Here you go.”
You slid your laptop to the side to make room. He lowered the cup and mumbled a quick, “haveagoodday,” about to turn and walk away when your fingers closed around his wrist. He stopped, going completely still with shock.
“Oh, how cute!” you cooed as you inspected your drink. The foam floating on top of your macchiato had been deftly swirled into the shape of a polar bear, bundled up in a big hat and scarf. In your delight, you had reached out to grab the barista’s arm unthinkingly. Upon realizing this, you gently released him.
Peering up at him, you inquired, “Did you do this?”
Jungkook nodded, tongue feeling too thick in his mouth to speak.
“That’s so cool. Do they teach you how to make different designs when you work here?”
Jungkook shook his head. “They didn’t - they don’t teach that stuff here. I figured it out on my own.”
“You taught yourself how to make foam art?” Your eyes widened. “Wow!” You watched the little bear bob gently across the surface of your drink. “I’m jealous of your skills.”
You gazed up at Jungkook with a warm smile. His heart somersaulted in his chest.
“Th-thanks,” he stammered, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Um, enjoy your macchiato.”
He bustled back towards the safety of the stockroom and sat down on a pile of boxes turned into a makeshift chair. A moment later, Taehyung strolled in, hands in his pockets, expression nonchalant.
“Sooooo, how did that go?” His tone implied innocence, but Jungkook knew he’d been stretching himself over the counter as much as humanly possible, trying to listen in. But he didn’t care.
“She liked my bear. She said - she said she was jealous of my skills.” Jungkook clapped his hands over his ears, feeling to see if the tips were as hot as they felt. He scrunched his nose as he grinned at Taehyung.
“And then?”
“And then I came back here.”
“That’s it?”
Taehyung looked aghast. “Good god, the way you’re reacting, I figured you’d asked her out - or, more likely, she’d asked you out. You just talked about foam art?!”
Jungkook nodded.
“You’re hopeless, man. Hope. Less.” Taehyung drifted away, leaving Jungkook still smiling to himself.
The next time you visited the shop, Jungkook did a double take. Then a third.
Every other time he’d seen you, you were dressed casually - usually jeans and boots, though one time in late October you’d worn yoga pants and a clingy tank top, apologizing for being sweaty by explaining you’d just come from your first (and last) attempt at pilates, and he’d accidentally inhaled a noseful of espresso when you’d removed your coat to reveal your form-fitting workout clothes.
But you’d never walked through the coffee shop’s door looking the way you did on this particular Monday morning.
You wore an immaculately tailored dark green wool coat, with large black buttons running down your torso, that nipped in tightly with a shiny belt at your waist, then flared out into a ruffled hem, accentuating your hourglass curves. A black pencil skirt peeked out from underneath the coat, stopping just above your knee. Your calves were swathed in dark nylons, and as you turned to make sure the door closed behind you, Jungkook noticed a seam running along the backs of your legs. He swallowed thickly as he followed the line down to the intimidatingly tall high heels you wore that gave you an extra few inches, bringing you eye-level with him as you sauntered up to the counter and smiled.
Right at him.
From his post at his register, Taehyung whistled. “Wow,” he said, breathing your name. “You look amazing!”
You tore your gaze away from Jungkook. “Thank you, Taehyung,” you flushed, giving a little twirl at his compliment. “I’m happy to hear you say that, because I haven’t worn my power suit in a very long time, and I really needed a confidence boost today!”
“Your power suit?”
“Yeah.” Your fingers dropped to your skirt, smoothing a nearly imperceptible wrinkle as you explained. “I’m hoping to close an important negotiation today. Business deals like this always make me super nervous. But this suit is my secret weapon. It’s like a coat of armor - makes me feel like I can conquer anything. And then, you know, I had to make sure the rest of me was pulled together nicely - hair done, heels on, complete the whole look.” You grinned, posing cutely. “You think it works?”
“It definitely works.” Jungkook heard the words leave his lips before his brain alerted him that he’d said them.
Two heads swiveled in his direction.
Before Jungkook could think about running away, your phone rang.
“Ah, excuse me, I gotta take this!” You stepped away from the counter as you swiped your phone open, but not before the baristas heard you answer with your full name.
Taehyung suddenly released his grip on his register, popping upright. “Did… did she just say…” He repeated your name to Jungkook, who nodded, still sweating from his accidental utterance.
Taehyung’s fingers flew over his phone. “Whoa. I knew that I knew that name!”
Jungkook just waited, knowing from his friend’s tone of voice that he had something interesting to share.
But he was not prepared for the headline on the article on Taehyung’s screen:
Country’s Youngest Tech CEO Now Country’s Richest Tech CEO
He gaped at the photo accompanying the headline. It was you, appearing very much like you did today, hair pinned up, makeup tastefully done, and wearing the same skirt with similar nylons and heels. The top half of your suit was on display, and Jungkook had to admit - calling it your ‘secret weapon’ was no lie, because you were absolutely lethal in the fitted jacket, ready to vanquish your enemies.
The satisfied smirk on your face knocked the air from his lungs.
Once he regained the ability to breathe, Jungkook peered at Taehyung, baffled. “You read Tech Biz Weekly magazine?”
“My roommate Jimin’s cousin’s boyfriend works for her.” Taehyung informed him as Jungkook scrolled his phone, reading. “He tweeted this article the other day. She’s a big deal in software. I guess she, like, revolutionized the work from home industry with a program or something? I don’t know, I just skimmed it.” He shrugged. “But the point is, her company is crazy successful and she’s stupid rich. Like, could probably buy several islands without blinking rich.”
“But… she wears jeans?” Jungkook’s brain was completely scrambled, making it even harder than usual to find the right words to express what he was thinking. You didn’t look like a CEO, he meant to say.
“Yeah, dude,” Taehyung confirmed. “Rich people wear jeans sometimes. You expect her to dress like that all the time?” He pointed to your back. You were still on your phone, pacing in an empty corner as you spoke.
“Well, no, of course not, but… she was here on Friday and not dressed in office clothing.” You didn’t appear to work in a stuffy corporate job. “Right. Work from home technology, remember?” Taehyung shrugged again. “She probably uses her own products.”
“But she’s always alone? Shouldn’t she have bodyguards or something?”
Taehyung gave him a look. “I don’t think many people recognize her. She’s rich, she’s not Beyoncé.”
“She’s our age.” How could someone his own age be so rich and powerful?
“She’s your age, dude. I’m still your hyung, you know.” Taehyung gazed into the distance. “Oh. That means she’s younger than me. I need a minute to process.”
Jungkook attempted to reconcile everything he’d read and everything Tae was (rather blasély) telling him with everything he’d learned about you over the last few weeks. He already knew you were smart and confident. Was it really so surprising that you could be a tech savant, too? It… made sense, as much as it all could.
It just meant that you were even more out of his league than he’d thought. As if you’d ever be interested in a goofy, tongue-tied barista.
You returned to the counter, sliding your phone back into your pocket. “Sorry about that.”
“No worries,” Taehyung waved his hand. “So, medium caramel macchiato to go?” “Better make it large today,” you stated, handing him your card.
Jungkook had barely put the tip of his marker to your cup before your phone went off again. Wincing, you mouthed an apology to the two men as you grabbed your card and took the call at the same time.
You were so absorbed in your conversation, going over the final details for your big meeting, that you didn’t note how long it was taking for your drink to be made. But eventually you heard your name called over the voice of the lawyer nattering in your ear, and you flashed Jungkook a quick smile as you grabbed your drink from him and dashed out of the store.
Jungkook tried to ignore the pang of disappointment that struck when you didn’t even glance at the drawing on the cup. Ah, well. You were clearly a very busy woman.
Two days left until Christmas. The coffee shop was a madhouse, with last-minute shoppers and holiday travelers packing the lobby and keeping the staff hustling from open to close. Jungkook barely had the time to think about you.
Yet somehow he did it anyway.
He wondered how your meeting went while he was whipping up peppermint mochas and snickerdoodle lattes. Wiping down his station, he imagined your face when you saw his drawing, hoping it had made you smile. Running to the stockroom for more cups, he remembered how you’d spun in your gorgeous coat and skirt, and paused to stare unseeing at the shelves, adrift in reverie.
He knew he’d have to get over this crush eventually. But it couldn’t hurt to stand there and pretend for a few moments that you might feel the same way.
It was while he was in the back that you entered the shop, door chiming as you scanned the counter.
Taehyung stood alone. Leaned alone, to be more precise, draped as usual over his register, blissfully enjoying a rare moment of silence between the swarms of shoppers. Catching your eye, he grinned.
“If it isn’t our favorite customer,” he greeted you cheerfully. You clocked the “our” as you reached into your shoulder bag and produced an empty coffee cup, setting it in front of him.
Taehyung snatched it up, examining it curiously. “You brought your cup back? Um, we appreciate your commitment to recycling, but we don’t reuse our paper cups. They are biodegradable, though.”
You didn’t reply, but simply reached out and rotated the cup in Taehyung’s hand until he saw it.
Inscribed across the cup was a stunning sketch of a fierce-looking woman, wielding a shield, sword raised above her head. Next to her was scribbled “파이팅.” Most would assume it was an illustration of a random warrior, but you recognized the woman’s eyes right away.
They were your own.
Based on the way Taehyung glanced between the drawing and your face, he recognized them, too.
“What does this mean?” you implored, tapping the word written in Hangul.
“Paiting,” Taehyung smiled. “It’s like, good luck, or let’s go! Like someone’s encouraging you.”
“Mmm,” you hummed, staring at the cup. Taehyung handed it back to you and you held it delicately, lowering your head as you contemplated his words. He opened his mouth to ask if he could take your order, but the question died on his tongue when you gazed up at him, an intense expression on your face. “Okay. Thank you, Taehyung.”
He tilted his head, not really sure what he’d done for you. “You’re welcome?”
You smiled. “I’ll see you later,” you said, walking away. As you exited the shop, shoppers streamed past you, filling the lobby again, and Taehyung’s attention was diverted by the next wave of customers.
It wasn’t until he was lying in bed that night, drifting off to sleep, that he realized he’d never told Jungkook about your visit.
Christmas Eve morning was mercifully slow. The neighborhood businesses were already closed for the holiday, so there weren’t any employees needing their daily caffeine fix. By now, most travelers had reached their destinations, so they were no longer piling into the shop. The only steady flow of customers were the remaining last-last-minute shoppers, those who had procrastinated until there were only literal hours left to shop, and thankfully they were more of a trickle than a flood.
Yet despite the holiday and the quiet, Taehyung wasn’t surprised to see you walk through the door.
“Is he here?” you inquired by way of greeting, dusting snow from your hat.
Taehyung didn’t bother to ask you to clarify. “Yeah, he’s in the back. Let me grab him.”
Jungkook was combing through boxes, scouring for more caramel syrup, when he heard his friend’s voice call out, “Kook. You have a visitor.” He lifted his head to glance at the doorway and ask who it was, but Taehyung had vanished.
He blinked, suddenly nervous.
Taehyung was missing from his register when Jungkook emerged from the stockroom. And you were standing at the other end of the counter, bundled in your winter gear, with a cup in your hands and a soft smile on your lips.
Jungkook forced his legs to carry him to his workstation. You looked up as he approached.
“Hi Jungkook.”
His name had never sounded so sweet.
“Hi,” he responded. “Um, can I help you?”
You waved the cup around. “Did you draw this?”
Jungkook nodded.
“I didn’t notice it until I was on my way to my meeting yesterday,” you confessed, twiddling the cup in your hands. “It… it made me smile. I wanted to tell you that. And thank you.” You blushed slightly, and Jungkook felt his own face heating in response. “The meeting went so smoothly. Even though I didn’t know what you wrote, I still felt like someone was cheering me on, and it helped. A lot.”
Jungkook knew he was still standing in front of you, but he felt like he was floating towards the ceiling.
“You’re welcome,” he murmured, just barely loud enough for you to hear.
“Did you do all those other sketches? The reindeer, the elf… was that you?”
“I thought so.” You regarded him closely. “Did you draw them for all your other customers?”
He shook his head, fighting the urge to cover his ears, knowing they were burning. “No.”
“Ah.” You bit your lip, fighting a smile. “You’re not much of a talker, huh?”
Jungkook just blinked his doe eyes in alarm.
“It’s ok. I talk enough for the two of us.” You suddenly dug into your bag, searching for something. “Anyway, like I said, I wanted to thank you. This time of year can be... hard, you know? I didn’t intend to visit this place so often, honestly - I’m not much of a coffee drinker, as you can tell by my preferred order.” You grinned and Jungkook couldn’t stop himself from beaming as well. “But you and Taehyung have always been so nice, and then the little sketches… well, they made me happy. I wanted to show my appreciation, so… here.” You thrust a small package into his hands. Jungkook stared at the beautiful gold wrapping paper, the gauzy white bow, and the tiny tag that read “Jungkook” in elegant handwriting.
A gift? For him?
He automatically moved to open the package and you quickly interjected. “Wait, don’t open that now!”
He stopped, gazing at you with wide eyes. You smiled at his startled expression.
“Sorry. I just… just open that later, okay? After I leave.” You cleared your throat. “I, uh, took the liberty of breaking it in. But I don’t draw, so… you’ll see,” you blathered, fiddling with the strap of your bag.
“Okay.” He easily acquiesced to your plea and tucked the package under the counter, out of sight.
“Okay,” you repeated, nodding. “I better get going. Got a lot of miles to travel today.” You edged towards the door. “Merry Christmas, Jungkook. Please give Taehyung my wishes for a good holiday.”
He nodded, watching you walk away. He felt like he was going to burst. As your fingers gripped the door handle, he found his voice, calling out your name.
“Merry Christmas. And… thank you.”
Your smile shone brighter than all the Christmas lights strung throughout the shop.
The moment the door closed behind you, Taehyung instantaneously reappeared. Jungkook assumed this meant he’d been hanging out in the back hallway, eavesdropping on your conversation. He didn’t care. He grabbed the gift and set it on the counter.
Taehyung gestured for him to continue.
The metallic paper sparkled as Jungkook turned the gift over in his hands. It was wrapped so neatly that it almost seemed a shame to tear into it. But he didn’t think he could wait a second longer.
Peeling back the layers of ribbon and paper, he found a gorgeous, leather-bound sketchbook. Tucked inside the cover was a row of pristine pencils arranged in a perfect rainbow of colors.
On the first page of the pad was written a little note:
Talent like yours deserves a better canvas. Hope this helps.
And underneath your signature, a phone number.
“Whoa,” Taehyung marveled, plucking the sketchbook from Jungkook’s hands and inspecting the contents. “Fancy!”
Jungkook was halfway through the lobby before Taehyung looked up.
“Where are you going? You don’t have your coat!” he heard his friend yell as he opened the door and dashed out into the cold.
Falling snow made it difficult to see very far as Jungkook spun around, scanning the street. He shivered, wishing he had grabbed his jacket. But he’d been moving on instinct, his gut telling him to run out the door before he lost you.
Though he was starting to fear that he already had as he surveyed the scene around him. The boulevard was mostly bare, only a few other people out trekking through the wintry weather. Then he spotted it - that fuzzy pompom, bouncing on the top of your knit cap as you strolled away a few blocks down from the shop. Jungkook started to run, skidding slightly on the slippery pavement.
“Hey!” A voice was shouting your name. You slowed your pace, glancing over your shoulder, eyebrows shooting up as you saw Jungkook dashing towards you.
“Jungkook!” you exclaimed as he came to a halt, breath huffing into little white clouds as he panted in the chilly air. You observed his lack of outerwear with a frown. “You must be freezing!” Taking his arm, you ducked into the entryway of a closed clothing store, tugging him behind you, giving him partial protection from the snow and wind.
Huddling close to you in the doorway, Jungkook forgot his words again.
The wind whipped up, nipping at your face. Brushing your hair out of your eyes, you retreated more, leading Jungkook further out of the cold, until your back bumped the door behind you. You peeked up at him patiently, giving him time.
Eventually, he spoke. “I just… wanted to thank you. For the sketchbook. It’s amazing.” A shy smile crossed his face, eyes crinkling as he beamed, and you swore your heart skipped a beat. “No one’s ever given me a gift like that before.”
“Well, I have to be honest. I gave it to you for rather selfish reasons,” you admitted.
His deer in headlights expression returned. “You did?”
“Yeah. Because I can’t wait to see what you do with it.” You looked down at your feet, feeling slightly bashful yourself. “I’m hoping you’ll show me.”
Jungkook’s gaze flitted to your lips. He licked his own unconsciously, fighting the urge to lean in. Would it be too forward to kiss you?
You lifted your head, and something hanging above Jungkook’s head caught your eye as it swayed in the wind.
“Jungkook,” you murmured, pointing. “Mistletoe.”
His eyes followed your finger, missing the way you glanced at his mouth, watching the perfect cupid’s bow and pouty bottom lip pop open in surprise. He gawked at the little green sprig someone had strung up above the store’s entrance.
How else should he interpret the tiny plant, but as an answer to his question?
Jungkook cupped his hands over your cheeks, drawing you to him for a tender kiss.
Your eyes fell shut, lips brushing against Jungkook’s as he pulled you close. Warmth flooded from your head to your toes, driving out the winter air’s icy sting. Your fingers fisted in his apron as Jungkook hummed into the kiss, stepping forward until he was flush against you, pressing your back firmly into the door, causing you to squeak slightly.
Jungkook broke the kiss. “Sorry! I - I got carried away,” he apologized, dropping his hands from your face.
You shook your head vehemently. “No! Don’t apologize. That was really nice,” you gushed, releasing your grip, trying to iron the wrinkled material of his apron with your hands. “But you should probably get back to work before you catch a cold! I can’t believe you’re out here like this.”
Jungkook lowered his head, grinning sheepishly. “Yeah, I, uh, didn’t really think this through. I just wanted to see you. And….” he trailed off, running his fingers through his dark, messy hair.
“And?” you prompted him lightly.
“And ask if you want to get dinner with me. Maybe next Friday?” He peered at you hopefully. “I’ll bring my sketchbook.”
“To show me or to draw me?” you teased.
“Both, if you’ll let me,” he replied, without hesitation, a playful gleam in his eye.
Your face burned as you nodded your acceptance, suddenly too shy to speak.
Jungkook promised to text you before sprinting off back to work.
As the door chimed, announcing Jungkook’s arrival, Taehyung poked his head out from where he’d been standing in the back, savoring the quiet with a hot cocoa.
“Well?” he demanded.
Jungkook just smiled. He opened his gift, selected a pink pencil, and started to sketch.
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© 2021 by sunshinerainbowsbts. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost.
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1kook · a month ago
tutus & tiaras
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summary your first pregnancy through the lens of your husband warnings smut in the forms of penetrative sex, sex while pregnant, unprotected sex, tit play, cunnilingus, mutual masturbation, sticking the tip in and jacking off/cockwarming?, creampies, nose kink (? like she grinds against his nose), infatuation with scent, frottage/grinding, lactation kink, titluvr jk [bass boosted] misc married ncouple <3, domesticity, jk pov, mood swings, pregnancy, GIRLDAD!JK, DILF!JK, pregnant!reader, jk’s kids are virgos its true rating m (18+) word count 10k
In a sort of roundabout way, Jungkook knows he always gets what he wants. 
Now, truth be told, Jungkook has a hard time asking other people for things, whether that be simply saying what he wants for his birthday or asking someone to pass the salt. He’s not shy, just… overly-conscious of his role in other people’s lives. He doesn’t want to bother anyone with his demands, so he prefers to do things on his own, settle things on his own. 
This way of living has worked out pretty well for him thus far, mostly because Jungkook’s lucky enough to be surrounded by people who love and understand him regardless of what he does or doesn’t say. The people around him can easily read him, which isn’t as negative a thing as Jungkook initially feared it to be. They know him, know what he wants and don’t mind giving it to him. 
Right now, what Jungkook really, really wants is to have kids. Three, to be exact. 
The maximum is two. 
“I am not getting pregnant more than two times,” you had scoffed one day, snuggled up beside him in bed. Lately, you’ve taken a genuine interest in this odd show about toddlers in the UK. It’s cute though, and Jungkook suspects it’s your attempt at familiarizing yourself with motherhood. “Do you know what can happen to my vagina? It can tear, Jungkook,” you added, not a trace of your usual playfulness to be seen, “down to my butthole.” 
At that point in time, the two of you only had a hunch that you were pregnant. You’d been going at it like rabbits, fucking on nearly every surface of your house, and Jungkook was, honestly, beginning to feel dried out. A few weeks prior, he had come not once, not twice, but six times in one day after you’d taken some sex enhancement pill that lasted nearly a full twelve hours. You were so horny, Jungkook was, for the first time, actually worried about how horny you were; while in the bathroom, Jungkook’s hand had brushed against you as he reached for his toothbrush and you had whimpered. He fucked you in the shower, on the dinner table, and even on the goddamn elliptical as the pill ran its course. All because you were dead-set on giving Jungkook a baby by the end of the year. Which was actually very unrealistic, because it was November, but Jungkook interpreted your claim as being one rooted in morale as opposed to logistics. 
Even though Jungkook really wants three kids — the thought of looking into his rear view mirror and seeing three tiny faces in the backseat, a mixture of his features and yours, makes him jittery with excitement — he’s completely okay with having two. It’s your body, and as much as Jungkook would love to see you swollen and pregnant for possibly all of eternity, a kid at your hip, one clinging to your pant leg, he doesn’t want you to do anything you don’t want to. He knows the idea of pregnancy scares you a little bit, that you’re nervous about losing your “hotness,” as you claimed. Which, you won’t, by the way. You’re already so hot and gorgeous, Jungkook’s actually afraid that being pregnant will make more men look your way. 
Two it is. Two pregnancies, two kids. 
But, as Jungkook mentioned previously, he always gets what he wants. 
A few weeks later, Doyeon ropes you into taking a pregnancy test. It’s the first time Jungkook has ever felt grateful for Kim Doyeon’s existence, even more so when the two of you come torpedoing into his home office with the stupidest, dopiest grins on your faces. 
“Twins?” you shriek, eyes bulging out of their sockets, your voice so loud it makes both Jungkook and the ultrasound technician flinch. The gel on your tummy glistens beneath the dim lighting of the room as you move to sit up, practically pressing your face to the screen. With your back turned to him, Jungkook isn’t exactly sure what expression you’re making, just that your hand clamps down on his wrist. Your grip is the only thing that keeps Jungkook from running down the hall and jumping with joy. The thrill shoots down his spine like a shot of adrenaline, makes it impossible to keep the stupid big smile off his face. 
You're having twins, Jungkook realizes. 
Which means: two kids for the price of one pregnancy. 
Which means: Jungkook still has another chance to knock you up for a total of three kids. 
Which is: just what he wanted. 
So now, you’re a little over three months in and Jungkook doesn’t think he’s ever been so excited. According to you, there hasn’t been any major changes to your body yet, but Jungkook swears you’re starting to show. 
Jungkook knows your body well — he’s spent the last four years memorizing every inch of you to the point he’s certain he can map out a constellation of all your scars and freckles — and lately, you’ve been so sensitive. You’re sleepier than usual, always seeking out the nearest soft surface for a quick nap. You cuddle up behind him at his desk, pressing yourself close as if trying to fuse the two of you together. Jungkook doesn’t mind; he loves being in your presence. Your ankles have started to swell a little bit in the mornings, though you refuse to admit it, so Jungkook’s made it part of his routine to massage them every night for you. 
Perhaps most notably, is your libido. You're sensitive. Today is no different. 
“Ah— no,” you shiver, voice a feathery whine that is nearly lost against the knuckle you bite down on. Jungkook’s certain he would have missed it had he not been pressed so closely, cock buried between your folds as he slowly rocks in and out. His lips trail kisses over your throat, sucking a mark against the skin until you’re hissing, knuckles white as you grip at the sheets. 
Jungkook lets one of his palms trail down over your chest, gently fondling. You’re like putty, the soft skin molding to the shape of his hand as he squeezes and touches, massaging until your knees tremble. “Ju— Kook,” you pant, hips bucking forward against him. You’re so cute, look like you’re about to cry, as you quiver beneath him. In a softer voice, teetering between a sniffle and a whine, you add, “play with me, please?” 
His cock twitches inside of you, and Jungkook has to quell his excitement before he does anything drastic. Burying his face at the crook of your neck, where your scent is most prominent, a mixture of perfume and lotion, faintly of sweat, Jungkook presses a kiss. “I will, sweetheart,” he assures you, letting his cock slip out from your comforting warmth. Upon exit, a long trail of wetness follows his head, creating a thin bridge between your clenching entrance and Jungkook’s engorged tip. He could go mad at the sight. His departure is met with a sweet moan from you, a sound subdued and mellow, very unlike your usual voice. 
Jungkook hushes your tiny whines with kisses down your chest, over the gentle slopes of your breasts. His tongue glides over the skin, collecting one perky nipple between his lips as he goes. You’re restless beneath him, legs falling against the mattress only to clamp around his waist instead, hands trailing up and over his shoulders then into his locks. He rolls the stiff nub between two teeth, his actions met with a drawn-out cry from you. His other hand occupies itself sliding down between your bodies, deft fingers slipping past your folds, trailing the wetness back up to your clit. “That’s,” you mumble, filling the bedroom with your gasps, eyes rolling into the back of your head as Jungkook lavishes you in kisses. “Feels nice,” you settle on, smoothing a hand over the nape of Jungkook’s neck. 
One particularly harsh suck results in the arching of your back, a fluttery moan escaping your lips. “Settle down,” he warns in a quiet voice, trailing kisses down between the valley of your breast, over your tummy — he swears you’re showing — and eventually between your legs. Pinning one knee down, Jungkook lets the other one stroke the inside of your thigh soothingly. 
He places a chaste kiss at the beginning of your slit, lips brushing against your clit. “Oh, don’t,” you whimper, robbing Jungkook of your expressions when you throw an arm over your eyes. “Not my— not my—“ As his breath fans over your wetness, Jungkook watches in fascination as your pussy quivers, folds puffy and slick. Your hands ghost over yourself, traversing the length of your body, from your hips to your chest, palming your breasts. 
“But you asked me to,” he muses, ducking down to mouth at your clit, letting his teeth graze the bud. Another sob escapes you, tugging at your nipples as Jungkook runs his tongue along your slit. “Wanted me to play with you, remember?” 
You nod, shudder, fidgeting back and forth as Jungkook envelopes your clit with his hot mouth, releasing it only after a mean tug. He nuzzles closer, accidentally letting the tip of his nose nudge against your clit until he’s drowning in your scent. It makes you mewl, pushing down against the curve and a little bit of the bridge of his nose. Jungkook entertains you for a second, mesmerized by the action, before eventually reinforcing the grip on your legs. He flicks his tongue over your clit, gets a little giddy and lets out an airy giggle against you. “Kook,” you whine, digging your hands into his scalp, feebly trying to draw him away. “Don’t be mean,” you whisper, beg. 
He can’t help it, he gets so high off your smell, your cum against his chin. “Sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t mean it, not when you’re so close to tears, thighs threatening to suffocate him down here. “Just so wet, baby,” he mumbles, returns to rolling your bud against his tongue. “Making a fucking mess down here.” When he glances up, all Jungkook can see are the two twin peaks on your chest, the trembling of your lower lip. He pulls away with a loud pop. 
Your hands are so little against your body, nothing like Jungkook’s enormous palms, and the difference in size makes his brain feel like mush. He thinks about how you’re only going to get bigger from here on out, swollen with the weight of not one, but two babies in your stomach, and Jungkook can barely keep his cool. His cock grinds down against the sheets and Jungkook almost nuts. Embarrassing. 
Eventually, he pushes himself away, nearly passes out from the hand you trail over his jawline. On his knees, Jungkook decides it’s okay to be greedy every once in a while, pushing closer until the tip of his cock kisses your entrance. So wet, he’s getting dizzy. “Your hand,” he demands, taking your trembling — tiny — hand in his and placing it against his cock. He doesn’t need to explain, you know him so well, fingers small and dainty as you line his cock up with your entrance. Know what he wants even if he doesn’t say it. Your tits are all swollen and slick from his kisses, commandeer his attention even when you grip the base of his cock. 
Slowly and with your help, Jungkook sinks back in. You’re even slicker than before, which is to be expected. Ensheathing him in a thin, wet layer of your cum and his saliva, Jungkook assumes his rightful place buried deep inside you. Your hand, after fulfilling its duty of lining him up, settles against his hip. The tightness is unreal, makes his head roll back as a silent moan escapes him. “You feel so good,” he mumbles, hair falling over his eyes, tickling his brows. 
“Fuck, baby,” you whimper, walls tightening around his cock, like a fucking vacuum seal, trying desperately to coax anything out of him. Given how hard and riled up he is, Jungkook doubts it’ll take much longer anyway. Drawing his hips back, Jungkook’s next slide into your hole is so squelchy and hot, it makes his jaw clench. “Ah— give it to me,” you beg. 
He focuses his strength in his thighs, rocking back and forth into your entrance with a pace that slowly picks up speed as he goes, bruising and loud. His hips slap against your skin, and Jungkook wonders how painful that must feel on your end. With each thrust, your tits bounce upwards and down, practically hypnotizing Jungkook along the way. 
Ducking down, he catches the erect bud of the nipple he’d neglected earlier in his mouth, grinding himself deeper into your entrance. You're moaning and shivering, carding your hands through his hair and down his back, branding him in bright red railroad tracks and half crescent moons. Adjusting his hold on you, Jungkook continues bucking forward, rutting into you like a mad dog in heat. He can’t get enough of you, of the deathly tight grip of your pussy and your obscene moans. Against his better judgement, he bites down against your breast, knows it’ll hurt tomorrow. He’ll feel bad about it tomorrow. Today, he wants to swallow you whole. 
A groan tears itself from his throat, scratchy and so unlike the syrupy whines leaving you. “You’re squeezing me so tight, pretty girl,” he mumbles, blinded by his own pleasure as he chases the feeling, sloppily circling his tongue around your nipple. Between the maddening snap of his hips and the lapping of his tongue, Jungkook wonders which sensation you focus on, because he can’t focus on either. He wants to feel it all, feel you all. Greedy, greedy, he wants more of it, all of it, until you can’t give anymore. 
“Mmh— hah,” you moan, weakly meeting his thrusts. “N- no more,” you slur, “I can’t.” You just need to come, and Jungkook just needs to make you come. He plunges himself in again and again, sears the feeling of his cock against your walls, every vein and every ridge, until the two of you are gasping, a mess of sweaty limbs as you grind desperately against one another. 
Your especially delicate body, the gentle protrusion of your tummy, it all becomes too much. Your tit between his lips, your pussy around his cock. Jungkook wants and he wants and he wants. 
Your climax is a silent one, your features scrunching up together cutely as euphoria rolls over you. Jungkook barely manages to catch the expression on time, pulling away from your chest to catch sight. Your lips are swollen, not from kissing, but from your own restlessness, tugged and bitten as Jungkook kissed along your body. You’re so beautiful, unshed tears clinging to your lashes, teasing Jungkook with an image he could’ve seen had he drawn you on only a little bit longer. 
Your thighs clamp shut around his waist, walls clenching around his cock, painfully tight. Jungkook hisses, releasing into your warmth, shivering as you milk him of his cum. 
Most days, you follow up these ventures with a round of rather fruitless conversation. You’re a talker, like the sound of your own voice, which is all fine with Jungkook because he likes the sound of your voice too. Lately, though, you’ve been a little different, a little clingy. Jungkook loves that too. 
“Don’t go,” you sniffle, looking up at him with big, sad eyes. He’d only been reaching for a towel to clean the two of you up. “Jungkook,” you beg, your voice wavering with the threat of tears, but not the good kind. These were the heartwrenching tears, the ones that made Jungkook want to swaddle you in a blanket and never let you go. You’re totally oblivious to the creampie between your legs, “come back.” 
And he does. 
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The walls have to be pink. 
If it were up to Jungkook, he thinks yellow is a pretty color for two twin girls. When he first pitched that idea to you three months ago, you’d been ecstatic at the thought, eagerly agreeing along to his suggestion as you raved about having a sunshine room for your sunshine girls. Jungkook had even gone to the paint store — alone, the smell was too much for you by then — and brought you back a variety of swatches, all of which you loved. So you decided on yellow. 
Yellow, as it turns out, is “the ugliest color I have ever fucking seen,” you sneer, arms propped over your big, pumpkin belly as you glare at the offending can of paint on the ground. Jungkook hadn't even started painting yet, had barely cracked the lid open, when you suddenly voiced your hatred for the color. 
You’re almost eight months in now. Jungkook doesn’t want to go as far as saying you’re difficult to handle but— yeah. “Baby,” he starts slowly, setting the paint roller down on the ground lest you think he’s threatening you or something. (It’s happened before.) “We agreed on yellow a while back,” he says, hands on your shoulders in case you suddenly pass out from being so overwhelmed. (Also happened before.) 
Luckily, today you surprise him with a milder approach. “Yellow is ugly,” you reiterate, big frown on your face. It’s very cute, but Jungkook has recently come to realize you’ve secretly been weaponizing said frown against him these past few months.  
“Yellow is my favorite color,” he counters, brows raised. 
You pause, brain stalling for a response. Jungkook can see the gears working, trying to find something to say that isn’t as mean. “Yellow,” you mumble, glaring at a spot over his shoulder. “…is too colorful.” It’s a fair argument, but the reason you initially liked yellow as a wall color was because it was too colorful. It’s full of contradictions Jungkook is too kind to point out. He settles on turning the conversation away. 
“How was brunch with Doyeon?” Easier topic. 
Your face scrunches up. “Terrible,” you deadpan. “She ordered chocolate cheesecake.” Jungkook loves chocolate cheesecake. “Who the fuck likes chocolate cheesecake?” 
Sensing your mood to be in quite a fragile state, Jungkook decides standing in your future kids’ room probably isn’t helping. Still by the shoulders, he gently coaxes you out, shutting the white door behind him until the two of you are standing in the hallway. “You must be tired,” he says, guiding you into your own bedroom. The dresser where the TV sits is accompanied by an unopened jar of cheese puffs, your favorite lately, and there’s about five different pairs of yoga pants on the floor in front of the closet. 
Finally, something you can agree on. “I am tired,” you whine, accepting Jungkook’s hand as he helps you into bed. You can’t lay on your stomach and squirming around is too much work, so you’ve pretty much been stuck sleeping on the very edge of your side of the bed for about a month now. He helps you on, fluffs your pillow for you and everything. Very whipped. 
Apparently still stuck on the conversation from before, you manage to bring it back around just as Jungkook begins massaging your calves. “Pink,” you say, hands on your belly. “It’s what all princesses want!” 
Jungkook rolls his eyes, digging his fingers into the tight muscles until you’re groaning from a mixture of pain and relief. “What if they don’t want to be princesses? They might want to be knights in shining armor,” Jungkook offers, eyes trained on your stomach. The other day, he’d caught the girls having a dance party inside you, nearly cried when they kicked beneath his hands. 
You scoff. “Knights or princesses, it has to be pink! I’ll bedazzle their swords or whatever,” you ramble on, so silly, so sweet. Jungkook knows you’re going to be a good mom. 
Regardless of whether they’ll be knights or princesses — they could be court jesters, for all he cares — Jungkook thinks pink would be a cute color, too. “Fine,” he agrees, eventually releasing your legs in favor of crawling up beside you. “I’ll return the yellow.” You let out a little excited sound, clapping your hands. “But only if I can put the sparkly canopy from Target above their beds.” 
“See,” you tease, craning your head to press a kiss to his cheek. “You want them to be princesses, too.” 
Jungkook wants his kids to be whatever they want to be. But he also wants to take advantage of their tiny age to dress them up in as many sparkly, glittery outfits as possible. In the future, they might realize they’re not a fan of all the tutus and tiaras, but at least it’ll make for good family photo albums. 
While he’s experiencing his first of many dad monologues, your palm grazes his front side, blindly feeling around for his crotch. “Hey,” he warns, catching your hand in his. You squeak, caught red-handed. 
As per your doctor’s advice, sex was okay. Thus far, you had experienced no complications in your pregnancy, so there wasn’t anything to worry about. You could participate in sex so long as the two of you were careful, didn’t go too hard or whatever. And you have, every now and again, but now that you’re nearing your final weeks of pregnancy, Jungkook is a little nervous to say the least. 
You frown, shaking his hand off with a bratty huff. “You never wanna touch me anymore,” you mumble. Some days, you complained about Jungkook being too close, too overbearing, to the point it almost hurt his feelings. Others, you couldn’t keep your hand out of his pants even if you tried. 
“I do, sweetheart,” he reassures you, rolling onto his tummy beside you. You're pouting now, plush lips pressed together as you regard him with feigned annoyance. “Just a little worried, ‘s all.” You lift your hand up to pinch his cheek, a mean act Jungkook willingly accepts. It’s followed by a gentle caress anyway, an open palm he nuzzles into, pressing a kiss against it. “I always wanna touch you,” he purrs.
It’s true. 
“Then touch me,” you mumble, slowly drawing your knees apart, slinking your hand in down to push away your bottoms. “Or I touch myself.” With your tummy so big and so round, it’s hard for you to completely reach around. Jungkook watches in amusement, before you agitated groans convince him to help you out. 
“Fine,” he relents, shuffling onto his knees, carefully maneuvering himself between your spread thighs. “Only a little.” He helps you wiggle off your bottoms, peeling your underwear from in between your folds and down your ankles. At the sight of your dripping core, Jungkook snorts. “Why are you so wet?” he teases, tossing your clothing somewhere behind him. “Weren’t you just raging about the color yellow?”
You grunt. “Shut up. You make me horny.” Flattering, so Jungkook takes it. He watches as you reposition your arm, wrapped around your belly as your fingers graze the front of your slit. It’s such an endearing effort, watching you trying to finger yourself, that Jungkook lets out a little aww sound. “Baby,” you whine, fussy, cute. “Help.”
“I got it,” Jungkook says, to the rescue. Capturing your hand in his, he helps you comfortably reach over your stomach, settles your fingers against your bud. From there, he skillfully drags some of your wetness along your slit, trailing your arousal up to your clit until the glossy fluid is lightly coating the bud. “There,” he announces, fingers joining yours in a gentle caress. 
A moan rolls off your tongue, eyes fluttering shut. “Thank you,” you whimper, knuckles knocking against his. Jungkook knows his perception of love is a little skewed when the sight of his and your fingers circling your clit makes his chest tighten. “You too.”
“Huh?” he mumbles, still a little distracted by your plush folds, clenching hole. He wants to kiss it so bad. When he’s down there, flicking his tongue over your clit and into your entrance, he can never catch sight of your face. Your tummy is just so big, blocks the view. Not that he minds, Jungkook loves your pregnant belly. 
“Touch,” you huff, hand paused. Your inaction is what snaps Jungkook out of his daze, gaze flickering up to catch yours. “Touch yourself, too.” 
He’d much rather watch you touch yourself, but Jungkook is a little bit of a pushover and very much in love. Also, his cock gets hard anytime he looks at you for too long, anyway. “Okay,” he agrees, hesitantly parting with your folds. Your fingers look so tiny against your clit, nothing like his. His fingers belong ther—
“Jungkook,” you whine again. Right. 
Pushing his sweats down his thighs, Jungkook releases his half-hard cock from its fabric confines, rather nonchalantly holding it in his hand. He’s much more preoccupied with your own slick folds, watching you routinely tighten and then loosen as your fingers dance along your clit. 
One nudge of your bent knee against his side spurs Jungkook into action. Reaching forward, he runs his fingers along your folds, reveling in the shiver that passes through your body as he collects a thin sheen of your pre-cum along his hand. It provides enough friction against his cock, his fingers glistening as he slowly begins to jerk himself off. 
Beneath him, you continue with your languid ministrations, eyes half-lidded as the pleasure builds within you. Your stomach is so big, smooth, makes it impossible for you to comfortably sit up. Jungkook quite likes the sight, feels his cock twitch as he drags his gaze over your body. The hand not on his cock smooths over the rounded skin. 
The softest sounds come filtering out of you, groans and moans that sound feathery and airy, like music to Jungkook’s ears. As much as he wants to kiss you right now, he’d rather die than muffle the melodious soundtrack you’ve decided to provide for your shared masturbation. Quelling his desire, he focuses his efforts on running his palm over the head of his cock. 
His fist continues to drag up and down his cock, trying to match the languid movement of your own hand against your bud. You’re moving so slowly, it pains Jungkook, actually. But he loves the intimacy, the shared trust between the two of you as you slowly but surely work towards your orgasms. 
He hasn’t been inside of you in a few weeks now — again, Jungkook’s a little anxious about the whole, penetrative ordeal — but the memory of the snug fit lingers in the recesses of his mind, choosing now to resurface. You always clamp down on him as he pushes in, when the mushroom tip of his cock shoves past your folds. He knows it’s the biggest stretch for you because it’s the tightness area for him. “Fuck,” he mumbles, glancing down at his own angry cock, your entrance only inches away. It’d be so easy to just slip right in. 
Like the devil on his shoulder, you’re always quick to voice his desires. “You know,” you croon, stilling your fingers. “You can just… go in. If you’d like.”
Cautious. Sneaky. You want him inside of you as bad as Jungkook does. Still. “I know,” he chuckles, vaguely aware of the sweat that clings to his hairline. He hopes his laughter hides the monstrous lust building in his chest, that the easy smile he flashes your way covers up the desperation behind his eyes. 
It doesn’t. “C’mon,” you tease, mindlessly rubbing at your pregnant belly, fingers nudging his. “You know you want to,” you sing, spreading yourself wider for him. “Just the tip.”
A shaky exhale escapes him. Just the tip sounds nice. “Are you sure?” he asks tentatively, placing a hand against your thigh, caressing the soft skin as his gaze glues itself to your gleaming lips. They're so puffy, would squeeze him just right. A little sound of agreement is your response, the fingers that had lingered over your clit resuming their ministrations. 
Just the tip, he repeats to himself, gently pulling apart your plush folds. You moan, a sound Jungkook’s heart latches onto and carefully files away with all your other little sounds. It’s followed by a gasp, another moan, a whispered call of his name. Together, it’s all the convincing Jungkook needs. 
Reaching for the base of his stiff cock, Jungkook teases himself with another swipe of his thumb over his head, catching on the slit where translucent pearls of pre-cum have begun to leak out. He trails it over his angry head, around the mushroom tip, even a little bit along his frenulum. That bit in particular makes Jungkook shudder, reluctantly removing his hand. He lines himself up with your entrance, your hand momentarily stretching down to brush the pads of your fingertips against him. 
They’re wet, sticky, dainty. Can barely reach, too. Jungkook doesn’t push you away, lets your curious fingers touch any part of him you can as he sinks the tip of his cock in. 
Just as he’d remembered, it’s tight. Tight enough to make Jungkook see stars. “Oh, shit,” he bites out, sweat collecting at his temples as he watches. Your folds envelope him, and it feels like he’s just come home. His warm welcome is punctuated with a high-pitched whimper from you, muffled against the palm you clamp over your mouth. “Let me hear you,” he murmurs, and it takes a lot of strength to look away from where your bodies are joined. “Your voice is so cute.”
Your reaction is unexpected, hips jolting following his statement. “No,” you whine, “I’m s- so annoying.” 
Jungkook nudges your static fingers, guides you along as if you’ve never touched your own pussy before. His cock head throbs inside of you, begging for some friction, some movement. But Jungkook is careful with you, settling in just past the tip. “Nah. Your voice makes me so hard, sweet girl,” he croons. “Could listen to you all day.
When he’s satisfied with the pace you’ve picked against your clit, Jungkook lets his attention return to his own rock hard member. Gripping the base, Jungkook steadies himself with a hand placed against the inside of your thigh. 
It takes everything in him to not buck forward, burying himself to the hilt, until your bodies are pressed together and he can’t tell where you end and he begins. “Ffffuck,” you shiver beneath him, not helping at all. He’s undergoing the greatest battle of self-discipline the world has ever seen. 
The only thing grounding Jungkook is the death grip he has around his cock, holding it with much the same tightness he uses when deadlifting at the gym. Needless to say, Jungkook is practically suffocating his cock. It’s the only thing that keeps him from a) fucking into you like a wild beast and b) nutting on the spot. 
It takes a moment, a long exhale, before he’s confident he won’t burst. Dragging his fist along his member, Jungkook finally lets the sensations wash over him. The jerk of his palm is shorter than usual, from his base to just beneath his head. If he’s not careful, he'll nudge against your tender folds, paste a thin layer of gloss against his knuckles. 
As he pumps himself, your mouth falls open. A whimper follows, head turning from side to side. Another sound, more like a hiccup, that goes straight to his cock. Buried deep inside you, he can feel another wave of arousal gush out of you, you're so wet. Slippery, your body teasing him with a squelching warmth he can’t enjoy to the fullest. 
Your chest rises and falls. Your breasts have been getting so big lately, swollen, heavy. The other day, Jungkook had casually nuzzled his face into them as you laid in bed, noticed immediately how inflated they were. Your nipples seem to always stand erect these days too, teasing him beneath your shirts. Now, he watches the plump mounds bob from side to side as your arm knocks against them. 
Without meaning to, Jungkook whines, squeezing his girthy cock on the next stroke. “Baby,” you shudder, and the affectionate name goes straight to his balls, has them squeezing as he traces his gaze over your body, back to your face. You’re biting down on your pointer finger, the hand not playing against your pussy. Jungkook grinds his teeth. He’s a little overwhelmed right now; between the teasing peek into your warmth with his cock and your fucking milk jugs, there’s at least five separate reasons Jungkook should come right now. 
Together, the two of you work towards your respective orgasms, taking in the visuals before you to make up for the deep-seated penetration you’re missing out on. You’ve always been appreciative of Jungkook’s body, a fact that has greatly helped his self-esteem, but today he feels like a piece of meat in front of you. Which should be degrading, to be looked at in such a way, but when it’s you, Jungkook loves it. He loves knowing his body alone can get you like this, your eyes searing a burning trail down his chest, to his dick, where your bodies connect. 
He jerks himself faster, filling the room with obscene sounds. Your pussy is so pretty, so soft and so plump. Jungkook belongs there, cock buried to the hilt, tongue lapping across your folds, however you want it. Today, he has to settle for this, your tight entrance clamping down around his swollen tip. Vaguely, he recalls the doctor’s words, the firm reassurance that it would be okay so long as he’s careful. 
And Jungkook is careful… most of the time. He presses his fingers against the underside of his cock, harshly exhales as he watches you writhe and shudder. Other times, Jungkook has this insatiable need to push you down and fuck you hard, fast, until you’re sobbing and begging for more. And that is dangerous. 
With that in mind, Jungkook manages to overcome the urge to thrust into you, an urge as old as time itself, and makes quick work of jacking himself off to completion. You whimper, at your own touch and the appearance of Jungkook before you, and your reactions spur him on. He tries his best to imitate the snug feeling of your walls with his hand, but he knows it’s not enough. Still, the memory is enough for Jungkook to power through, caressing your thigh. 
Uncoordinated fingers nudge against your clit, tiny peals of frustrated sobs catching in your throat. Jungkook loves the expression, the big tears that collect on your waterline. He knows he should help you out, but he’s a little bit of a sadist in times like this, loves watching you struggle. “You’ve got it,” he encourages quietly, hopes you don’t catch the teasing curl in his voice. 
You whimper. “Baby,” you blubber. Every graze of your fingers against your bud has you unconsciously tightening around the tip of his dick, a repetitive motion that traps the air in Jungkook’s lungs every single time. His hand traverses the length of his cock faster, slicker. He wants to come so bad, wants to thrust into you so bad. “Mmh— ah, fuck!” you squeak, hands trembling against your mound. 
Your pussy clenches down around him, painfully tight. It makes Jungkook dizzy, grasping for his cock as you finally climax. “Ju— Jungkook,” you sob, roughly yanking your hand away from your numb clit. Your legs jerk, knees coming up as you quiver through the intense pleasure. The pressure against his cock is what makes Jungkook succumb to his own orgasm, eyes rolling to the back of his head as a long, drawn-out groan leaves him. Without meaning to, his hips jerk forward just the slightest, drawing another teary sniffle from you. 
“Fuck,” he huffs, sweat dripping down the side of his face, curling over his jawline. His cum shoots into your pussy, and Jungkook can only hope it reaches the deepest crevices from this position. He isn’t sure if the white fluid that spills out around his cock is yours or his. “Shit,” Jungkook curses, finally drawing back with a grimace to examine the state of your pussy. Creamy, as expected, with the folds of your labia still so plush and slick. Jungkook wants to kiss you senseless down there, suck your clit into his mouth until you’re crying. 
He would, he almost does. “Kook?” you call out softly, feathery. Your eyes are barely open, breath coming out slow and deep. 
Jungkook discards any leftover arousal in favor of leaning over you instead, tracing a hand along the side of your face. “Right here,” he murmurs, reaching for the box of tissues on the bedside table to clean you up. “I’ve got you.”
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Jungkook's birthday present is one week late. 
Well, presents. 
The girls’ bedroom has finally taken shape, complete with a huge white crib on one side of the room, a changing station on the other. Pink walls, of course, with numerous castle-themed decorations artfully scattered about, a mixture between princess and knight; the mobile above the crib features a herd of elephants in tiaras, while a big, pink dragon sits inside the crib itself. You’re very committed to the aesthetic. 
Your water breaks in the backyard. Jungkook is mowing the lawn, doesn’t realize something’s happened over the roar of the lawnmower until he catches sight of your flailing arms trying to signal him over. The hospital bag has been sitting at the door for weeks now, gets flung into the backseat as Jungkook ushers you into the passenger seat, all sweaty and out of breath. 
Jungkook’s not squeamish. He loves a good slasher film, thinks the excessive blood really makes the movie, so he thinks he’ll fare fine in the delivery room. 
Wrong. There’s a huge difference between scripted movie murders and his wife pushing out two kids from an opening that is, as far as he knows, one inch wide. There’s screaming and cursing, the latter being aimed mostly at Jungkook for knocking you up in the first place, and of course, tears. And sweat. And a whole lot of other bodily fluids Jungkook doesn’t even know the name of. 
It’s worth it in the end, Jungkook thinks, staring at his two squishy babies and their worn-out mother. 
“Which one is she?” you ask, five weeks later, still unable to tell your own kids apart. Jungkook wants to give you the benefit of the doubt — they’re identical twins, after all — but as a devoted father he simply cannot. Mina and Aria are so different! The tip of Mina’s nose is rounder, and Aria’s ears protrude outwards a little more. They may look the same, but they act differently; Aria is an early bird, while Mina is a night owl; Aria keeps her eyes open while being fed, while Mina shuts hers. His girls are unique in their own ways, and it’s only his dummy wife who can’t see it. 
You’re holding Mina. Wrongly, might he add. “This is Mina,” he says, trying to casually take her out of your incorrect hold. He’s still not sure if they hear or see him, but Jungkook consoles himself with the fact that they recognize his embrace enough to cuddle into his arms every time he holds them. 
Now, you’re looking at your kid like you’re still uncertain about which one she is. Jungkook knows you love your babies. Motherhood is just a little awkward for you. You try your best and Jungkook finds your efforts endearing. Like now, with Mina cuddled into his arms, your hand gravitates for her tiny sock-clad foot, giving it a little squeeze that makes a familiar fondness blossom in Jungkook’s chest. 
The moment is ruined when Aria starts crying, signaling their afternoon feeding time. 
You sigh, reaching up to massage your breast. You’re supposed to be switching off, using every other side to lessen the ache or something. With twins, Jungkook senses that method kind of loses its effect, but you try anyway. Today, Aria goes first, carefully cradled into your arms as you settle into the rocking chair in their room. You pull your shirt up, hold your baby close, and watch as she begins suckling. “You’re staring again,” you murmur halfway through, and Jungkook feels his cheeks grow warm. 
“Sorry,” he chuckles, trying to cover up his embarrassment. He can’t help it— motherhood looks so good on you. The other day at the park, he’d caught a group of dorky teenage boys looking your way as you pushed the girls’ stroller down the path, no doubtedly calling you a milf. And then at a coffee shop, he’d glared at an older man who couldn’t stop ogling you over the lip of his mug. You’ve always been gorgeous, but becoming a mom has added a new edge to your aura, one that forces everyone to look your way.  
Mina stirs in his arms, begins huffing and puffing. “Set her down,” you tell him, immersing yourself in your new role. You can be a little silly when it comes to the girls sometimes, whine and complain about their stinky diapers until Jungkook comes to the rescue, but you’re serious when need be. “I’ve got them.”
Jungkook obliges, dreamily gazing at your figure in the rocking chair as he closes the door. The house is quiet after that, all three of his girls hidden away in one room. Jungkook knows he should utilize this time to get some work done, but his heart is too soft, too tender, to focus on anything really. 
He crawls into bed, staring at the ceiling as he wonders how this amazing life of his came to be. It starts with Namjoon, he supposes, his kind friend with an affinity of looking after others. He looked after Jungkook when he was a dweeby teen, and then you, in college. That’s where it begins.
(“Uh, I don’t know,” he mumbles, rubbing at the back of his neck. He didn’t have any plans this weekend, was probably just going to drop by his parents house. “A date?”
Over the line, Namjoon hums enthusiastically. “Yeah! She’s a nice girl. Very cool.”
Cool, Jungkook grimaces, something he admittedly was not. “Uh,” he drawls, lips pursed as he wracks his brain for any reason to say no. He comes up empty. Hesitantly, he mumbles out a quiet, “okay.”) 
It begins on a breezy night, you at his doorstep, Transformers on the TV. Your dress on the floor, Jungkook’s hands on your waist. Your mouths sealed together, tongues dancing in tandem. 
(Doyeon says it starts way before that.
“Listen,” she slurs, on what has to be her eighth shot that night. It’s fucking game night, not a rager, and here she is, wasted beyond belief. You’re in the kitchen, only four months in, baking cookies for the gang since you can’t have any alcohol. Jungkook’s left on Doyeon Duty. “You know each other,” she emphasizes, arm thrown around his shoulder like they’re best friends. 
Jungkook frowns. “Well, I would hope I know the mother of my kids,” he mutters, flashing Namjoon an unimpressed look over the Monopoly board. His friend is too busy teaching Jimin the rules of the game to save him. 
Doyeon shakes her head. “Before that, you dunce,” she hisses, teeth clenched. Jungkook’s afraid she’ll throw up. “Do the math, Jeon. One soul, two bodies. A second that stretches into eternity— it’s the red string, you idiot! Tied together over bridges and around trees. You and her, soul mates, ya hear me?” She’s jostling him now, probably giving him a concussion. “It’s fate! You know. Until you meet again and again and agai—“
This time, Namjoon does save him. “Babe,” he calls out, still trying to explain loans to Jimin. “You’re scaring him.”)
The door cracks open. You’re done feeding the girls, flashing him a tired smile as you slink over onto the mattress beside him. You’re still waddling like you’re pregnant, a funny quirk you haven’t been able to shake. Jungkook thinks it’s cute. “They’re sleeping now,” you mumble, sitting at his side. Your hand pushes his hair behind his ear, traces down his cheek, over his jaw. 
Puckering his lips, he manages to land a smooch against your palm, reveling in the bashful smile that crosses your features. “At the same time?” As much as he loves his new babies, their alternating sleep schedules have completely wrecked you and Jungkook these past few weeks. He can’t remember the last time the house had been this tranquil. Out of habit, his hand slinks around your waist, tugging you closer to his side. 
You nod, and Jungkook can feel himself melt deeper into the mattress, ready for a well-deserved nap. And he would, really, had his eyes not caught sight of a distinctively dark patch on your shirt. “Um,” he says, purposefully pointing his eyes at your chest. 
“Oh— shit!” you blurt, peeling the material away from your body with an irritated huff. “Not again.” 
Jungkook’s fatigue melts away as you get off the bed, replaced with a mixture of worry and intrigue as you strip yourself of your shirt, your flimsy bra following. “Do they hurt?” he muses, watching with the eyes of a predator as you reach for the tissues at your bedside, holding them against your tit. 
You shrug, eventually plopping back down on the edge of the bed again. “Sometimes,” you respond, peeling away your folded up tissue to check for any more leakage. “They just feel really heavy.” 
Jungkook nods along like he understands, watching with rapt attention as the pearly fluid continues to drip out of your nipple, over the curve of your breast and down your tummy. Experimentally, he reaches a finger out while you’re switching tissues, catches a droplet of milk on the very pad. The touch startles you, makes you whip around with wide eyes as Jungkook pops his digit into his mouth. 
It’s… sweet. Obviously different from the milk he’s used to drinking, but sweeter than most artificially made drinks. He presses his tongue against the palate of his mouth as he ponders on the taste; maybe like almond milk? “Jungkook,” you whine, obviously flustered by his actions. 
Jungkook levels you with a blank stare. “Can I have more?”
“Jungkook!” you exclaim, mortified. 
He quickly shuffles beside you, encouragingly guiding your hand away from your breast, all the while maintaining eye contact. “C’mon,” he purrs, knotting your fingers with his. “You used to mention this all the time.” You did, and for someone who used to leverage this against him every chance you got, you’re trembling like a leaf now. “Just a little bit, baby, please?” 
It takes Jungkook’s biggest puppy eyes and a playful tap against your nipple for you to give in. “Okay,” you mumble, and Jungkook could burst with excitement. 
He maneuvers the two of you onto the center of the bed, situating himself on his bum before gently helping you onto his lap. Your thighs spread over him, a little thicker and softer than before. The weight from your pregnancy still clings to your figure, makes you look all plump and squishy. Jungkook loves it. With his hands hooked beneath your thighs, Jungkook hails you closer. “Eep!” you squeak, balancing yourself with your hands on his shoulders. 
He places a kiss against the swell of your breast, trailing his lips down until his lower lip grazes against your stiffened nipple. The air audibly leaves your lungs, and Jungkook soothes a hand over your ass in an effort to ease your worries. His tongue scoops it up into his mouth, lips closing down around you. “Just—!” you gasp, tugging his hair back. “Gentle, Kook,” you tell him, “be gentle.” 
The first suckle is met with a gush of sweet milk against his tongue. It’s so sudden, Jungkook pulls back by mistake, letting it splatter over his chin. “Oh, wow,” he marvels, reaching up to grab your breast between his fingers. Testing the waters, another squeeze procurs the same results, a tiny splurt of milk against his lips. 
Your shallow breathing draws his attention back to you. You’re biting down on your lip, bruising the tender skin as you watch Jungkook navigate your leaking tits. They are heavy, just as you’d said, and a little hard to the touch. Just bursting with milk, he suspects, desperately needing to be relieved. The blood rushes to his cock. 
“They’re swollen,” he murmurs softly, kissing your chest. A tiny puff of air escapes you, the end laced with a whimper, as you nod. “You just need to be milked, don’t you, pretty baby?” Jungkook purrs, flicking his tongue over your bud, eyes rolling back at the sweet taste it picks up. 
He sucks on you tenderly, cautious of your fragile state. Your nipple is warm against his mouth, the liquid it releases just as hot. It’s a unique consistency, not too thick, not too watery. Jungkook’s not skilled in the art, accidentally letting the milk spill out from the corners of his mouth. His chin feels a little sticky, but not anything drastic. “Kook,” you whisper, voice hushed, wavering. Jungkook didn’t realize he’d shut his eyes. 
“Mmhm,” he hums back, tightening his arms around you, pulling you closer. You buck forward against him, punctuate the action with a whimper. Jungkook’s breathing hard through his nose, would feel self-conscious about the volume if he wasn’t so focused on your tits. 
It’s a strained cry that eventually draws him away, pulling off with a lewd, wet pop. Tracing his tongue along his lips, Jungkook savors the taste once more, eyes dark as he leans up to connect your mouths. Your tongues meet, and you grimace at the taste of your own breast milk. “It’s sweet,” Jungkook husks, pressing his forehead against yours. 
His cock is so hard, prodding against your thigh, and normally Jungkook would use an opportunity like this to rope you into some fast and bruising sex. But it’s too soon; your gynecologist had warned the two of you against partaking in any frisky business so soon after the birth. 
But Jungkook is nothing if not innovative. 
(And Jungkook always gets what he wants.)
Taking advantage of your pliant state, Jungkook wastes no time pushing you back down onto the mattress, crowding over your debauched form. Helping you out of your bottoms, Jungkook makes quick work of his own clothing. “Kook,” you mumble, hands trailing down his biceps, along his forearms. “The doctor said—“
“I know,” he cuts off, guiding your knees up to your chest. The pregnant belly he loved so much is gone now, and while it’s dearly missed, it kept him from doing a lot of things, like feeling your tits against his chest when you hugged. (Or when you fucked. Either or.) his engorged cock lands against the crook where your thigh meets your body, the soft crease holding it for only a second before Jungkook hastily guides himself away. 
He’s amazed to find you’re already so slick, folds sparkling with a thin gloss of pre-cum that he makes quick work distributing. Using the tip of his cock, he lets it nudge against your soaking entrance. “Jungkook,” you warn a second time. 
He hushes you with a kiss. “I know, baby, I know,” he repeats, coating his inflammed tip with your wetness before dragging it along the length of your folds. “Just… like this,” he exhales, finally grinding his length against your slit. 
“Oh,” you pant, trailing your hands up over your waist, around your chest. Your puffy folds mold to the shape of Jungkook’s cock, hugging him as he slowly begins to rock back and forth. Your leg moves to hook around his waist, urging him to move in closer, his cock kissing your clit. Hoisting your other leg up, Jungkook gathers you in his arms and slowly begins rutting against your folds. Each glide is slick and wet, painfully smooth, like velvet against Jungkook’s cock. 
He pushes himself into you, over and over again, making up for the lack of penetration with a rough grind of his hips, burying himself between your plush lips until you’re panting beneath him, meeting his hips with your own. 
With each prod of his tip against your button, you grow more and more restless, back arching as you hiss out in pleasure. It brings Jungkook’s attention back to your bosom, at the faint trickling of milk over the curve of your breast. Leaning over, he laps against your tit once more, desperate to obtain some more of your sweet milk. He syncs up the rolling of his hips with the suckles of his mouth, a duo that makes you whimper and writhe. 
“There we go,” Jungkook hums, mouth latched against your breast. Surprisingly, the milk comes out all too easily; with a few evenly spaced sucks, whatever mechanism releases your milk can be unlocked, sending spurts of milky goodness down his throat. You’re less shy this time, reaching down to cup your boob as Jungkook sucks away. He accidentally nips at the bud, makes you jerk away with a whine. “Sorry, sorry,” he apologizes, soothing his thumb over your nipple. “Gotta be careful, don’t I?” Thrusting forward, he hopes another caress against your clit is enough to distract you from his slip-up, moving on to mindlessly mouth at your breast instead. “Sheesh,” he breathes, huffs out a chuckle as he turns his attention to your more neglected breast. “Fuckin’ mommy milkers you’ve got.”
You groan in embarrassment, cutely rutting up against him as Jungkook obsesses over your boobs. “They’re not that big,” you defend weakly, hands carding over his hair, trailing over his shoulders. “Just… normal,” you decide with a resolute nod. “Normal mommy boobs.”
Jungkook snickers, lapping his tongue against your nipple. “Mommy boobs,” he repeats, feels a faint flush settle over his cheeks at your naive wording. Leaning up, he manages to place a kiss against your lower lip, nudging the tip of your nose with his. Your face is warm, warm enough to emanate the heat when Jungkook gets this close. You get so cute during sex. Jungkook has to be a little mean to balance you out. One pinch at your tit has it producing more milk, squirting out in a thin stream that hits Jungkook’s chest. He opens his mouth, lets it paint the back of his throat instead. 
He’s mindful of keeping you stimulated in multiple places, circling his hips against you until his cock is pushing your clit back and forth. You moan, gasping against the crown of his head as Jungkook burrows in closely against your chest, sucking and sucking until his mouth is full of your sweet milk. 
He wonders how long you can go on like this, spilling into his mouth, if there’s a limit to how much milk you can make in one sitting or if it just goes on until he decides he’s had enough. For his own greed, Jungkook really hopes it’s the former; he wants to taste more and more, swallowing it down until he’s bloated from how much he’s drunk. He knows it must hurt for you, that your tits must feel sore after a while. But he consoles himself with the fact that it also probably feels relieving, takes some of the weight off your chest. 
Another gulp, milk trailing down his chin. You groan. “Kook, slow down,” you beg, thighs trembling against him. “A- At least leave some for the girls.” 
He pulls off with a hoarse chuckle. “Fuck, right,” he says, shaking his head, pressing kisses along your swollen tits. Still so hard. Jungkook knows a little bit more will make you feel good. But he’s beginning to feel high on the sweetness anyway, an unexpected sugar rush that has him quietly acquiescing. Your tits still shine, saliva and milk, and Jungkook uses their glistening appearance as fuel for his pistoning hips. 
He’s careful — he’s always careful with you — as he drags his cock along your folds, always taking note of your facial expressions. You’re not supposed to be having sex, but Jungkook figures one orgasm won’t hurt. He’s missed you badly these past few months, missed the slick grip of your pussy around his cock. Soon, he’ll be able to shove himself into your depths once more, reclaim his throne between your satin walls. 
For now, he settles for this rushed, terribly-juvenile grinding against one another. Your walls part for his gliding cock, squelch obscenely as he moves. Your face is so pretty too, eyes screwed shut as he jostles you back and forth. And, of course, your tits bounce against your chest. 
It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Jungkook thinks you could’ve made it onto the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel had you been alive at the time of its inception, dancing along the heavens in all your glory. “Baby,” he chokes out, leaning in until your lips can meet his in a slow kiss. Your hands trail down his back, light as a feather, make every hair on his body stand at attention. 
This time, Jungkook is the one who cums first, loud. “Hah— fuck,” he cusses, burying his face against your neck, hot breath fanning against your sweat-damp skin. A series of moans follow, muffled by your skin against his, hips slowing to a jittery finish. His cum splatters against your clit and then over your stomach, white ribbons that remind him of the way your milk had trailed down your breast earlier. At the thought, his abdomen tightens up, cock pushing out one final rope of cum. 
A tear escapes the corner of one eye when you come, muscles and joints all locked up as a wave of pleasure blossoms over you. Jungkook holds you close; he couldn’t look away even if he tried. Your body goes limp, head rolling back against the sheets as Jungkook places chaste kisses along your shoulder. “Feeling okay?” he murmurs, massaging your hip with one hand. 
Your answer is a strained whimper, makes his cock twitch and everything.  “Need a nap,” you mumble, melting into the sheets. Jungkook kisses the corner of your mouth, ready to snuggle in with you. Before he can do that, there’s a cry from across the hall that makes the both of you sigh. 
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Aria is dead set on having a brother. “Dad,” she huffs, six years old, a diva to the core. “Hannah Montana has a brother, so we need one, too.” Her snarky attitude is a direct result of your genes and the fact you’ve introduced the two of them to the world of late 2000’s Disney Channel. 
As flawed as her thinking may be, Jungkook’s gotta agree with the kid. He also thinks the two of them need another sibling. 
You’re downstairs in the kitchen with Mina, baking some sweets, so Jungkook takes the time to sneakily meet with his first mate of the S.S We Need Another Kid cruise. “A brother?” he whispers conspiratorially, hunching down to her level. (Kids like looking you in the eye when they talk. It’s supposed to be comforting for them.) Aria nods, hands on her hips. She’s wearing this monstrosity of a sequined tutu that you picked up for her last week. Mina also got one, hers in blue, but she stuffed it into the depths of her toy box and has been pretending she’s lost it all week. Jungkook’s been sworn to secrecy. 
“Ya,” Aria says. She’s so tiny, barely reaches Jungkook’s waist. Still small enough for him to pick up and spin around, not that she lets him anymore. She’s an independent woman, his Aria, just like his mom. Doesn’t like to be babied anymore, but cries at the slightest scrape of her knees. Mina’s pretty much the same, albeit a little more logical. She likes nerdy things, loves building Lego sets with Jungkook, but hates when he pinches her cheeks. “We need one, ASAB.”
“ASAP,” he corrects, and then rubs his palm against his chin. “Gonna have to ask your mother about that.” At her frown, he makes sure to add, “I’ll ask too.” 
The thing is, Jungkook’s been asking for years. In bed, during car rides, even at the dentist. According to the terms of your initial agreement, you were still one pregnancy short! Which he brings up every chance he gets. But after the wild ride that was your first pregnancy — you know, the same one that gave Jungkook the awesome two-for-one deal — you’ve been a little hesitant. 
Which is totally understandable. After all, Jungkook wasn’t the one who had to carry around that big pumpkin belly, so he gets why you might not want to endure that again. 
Still. The girls have been asking. 
He brings it up that night. Attempt #2,000 probably. “Aria says you should get pregnant again.” No beating around the bush. 
You’re in bed, scrolling through your phone with a silly dragon sheet mask on your face. “Did she now,” you deadpan, flicking your gaze over to him. Jungkook loves you. You’re his sunshine, his supernova. His entire universe. But you can also be scary, like a blackhole. “Aria said she wanted me pregnant?” you repeat. He nods. “Not that she wanted a brother?”
Same difference. “Also that,” he nods, crawling up alongside you. He leans his head against your shoulder, blinks his eyes up at you in that way that makes you soften. You do, setting your phone aside to cup his cheek. “C’mon,” Jungkook mumbles softly, eyes fluttering shut as your fingers trace along his brow bone, against the piercing he got in solidarity of the twins’ recently pierced ears. “Don’t you want another one?”
You flick his forehead, and Jungkook opens his eyes back up to grin cheekily at you. “I do,” you sigh, shuffling down to lay completely beside him. On your side, face half smushed against the pillow, drowsiness clinging to your features. “But I barely get any action these days,” you frown, playful, mean, “I mean, i think my husband is in love with these two other girls.” 
He rolls himself over you, suffocating you with his weight. “Maybe those girls are nicer and cuter than you,” he plays along, leaning in, kisses you softly.
A scoff, a hand placed at the base of his throat that stops him from going any further. “Fine,” you huff as you squeeze. Jungkook’s breath catches in his throat. “But when it’s a boy and I love him more than you, it’s gonna be all. your. fault, Jungkook.”
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— Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr 
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blckjeon · 3 months ago
Everything Filthy and Nasty AU ♡ JJK
mature/smut ❥ 18+ only ⎯ minors dni
level of nasty ↠ 1 : nasty, 2 : very nasty, 3 : u need to drink kind of nasty cause u got so thirsty, 4 : holy shit its so filthy u need to take a shower.
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☾ @yoonia
Bad for you (level 4) | stripper!jk
☾ @petiteyoon
Making you sweat like that (level 4) | basketball players!ot7
☾ @jeonsweetpea
Secret slut (level 4) | assistant!jk
☾ @maliby
Ride (level 3) | stripper!jk
☾ @burberryplaid
Treat you better (level 4) | boxer!jk
☾ @chateautae
Here i come (level 3) | friend!jk
☾ @yoongsgguktae
Paddle with me (level 4) | campcounselor!jk
☾ @nomnomsik
Departure (level 4) | pilot!husband!jk
☾ @jeonstudios
Deal (level 2) | devil!jk
☾ @jimlingss
Game of temptation (level 4) | ft taehyung, namjoon, yoongi
☾ @gukslut
The speedo, the jorts (level 3) | stranger!jk to husband!jk
☾ @junqkook
This isn’t love, darling (level 3) | mafia!jk
☾ @kinktae
Knot today (level 3) | alpha!jk
☾ @kimnjss
Desperate housewife (level 4) | husband!jk
☾ @skswriting
Lottery offering (level 3) | alpha!jk
☾ @lunar-jimin
Paradise (level 3, infidelity) | ceo!jk
☾ @kpopfanfictrash
The quest to bedding the lead singer of frontman (level 2) | rockstar!jk
☾ @parkhabits
Crescent bound (level 4) | werewolf!jk
☾ @voidswan
Trouble (level 2) | fuckboy!jk fuckboy!jin
☾ @avveh
Strike three (level 4) | bodyguard!jk
☾ @taechaos
No more (level 1) | boyfriend!jk
☾ @jiminsfault
Gamin for love one, two (level 3) | gamer!jk
☾ @evilkookie
Just ask (level 3) | boyfriend!jk
☾ @/httpjeon
Try out (level 4) | pornstar!jk
☾ @gimmesumsuga
Concealed weapon (level 4) | mafia!husband!jk
☾ @krookedkoo
Welcome to the under world (level 4) | radio host!demon!jk
☾ @jksangelic
More than friends one, two (level 3) | roommate!jk
☾ @littlemisskookie
Piss off your parents (level 4) | roommate!jk
☾ @lushjin
No strings (level 3) | fwb!jk
☾ @koorara
“You’re so damn beautiful, baby. I can’t believe you’re all fucking mine” (level 1) | professor!husband!jk
There you are (level 2) | alpha!jk
☾ @whatifyoulivelikethat
Best laid plans one, two (level 2) | boyfriend!jk
Exclamation mark (level 3) | tattoo artist!jk
Just kidding series (level 4) | bestfriend!tae, tae’roommate!jk
☾ @kooksea
Sound (level 4) | fuckboy!jk
☾ @ladyartemesia
Hands-on learning (level 3) | grad school student!jk
☾ @inkedtae
Quiet rides (level 3) | boyfriend!jk
Eros (level 4) | god!jk
☾ @cosmostae
Brother knows best (level 4) | step brother!jk
☾ @divine-bangtan
Sugar & spice (level 4) | baker assitant!jk, upperclass!tae
☾ @/nitaescence
Lovers (part of sweetpea, level 4) | ddlg daddy!jk, daddy!tae
☾ @nochueso
il diavolo (level 4) | mafia!jk
☾ @imaginethisbts
Shameless (level 4, taehyung’ pov) | boyfriend!jk, acquaintance!tae
☾ @gashinabts
Anti-baby fever (level 4) | boyfriend!jk
☾ @/venusiangguk
The water is alive (level 3) | himbo!jk
Pretty kitty (level 4) | boyfriend!jk
Keen (level 4) | boyfriend!jk
☾ @zibermuda
After hours (level 4) | ceo!jk
All over you (level 2) | nerd!jk
High end (level 3) | erotica novelist!jk
☾ @njssi
Or nah ? (level 4) | boyfriend!jk, friend!tae
☾ @/hayjeon
Captain america one, two (level 3) | captain america!jk
☾ @/jungkxkook
Pour up (level 3) | fuckboy!jk, fuckboy!tae
☾ @/bratkook
Tied up (level 3) | boyfriend!jk
Quiet, baby (level 3) | boyfriend!jk
☾ @themfchase
Blindfold series (level 3) | rich!jk
☾ @jimidol
My heart belongs to daddy (level 4) | boyfriend!camboy!jk
☾ @/jamaisjoon
Jackrabbit (level 4) | hybrid!bunny!jk
☾ @/btsracket
A magician’s assistant (level 4) ft Jimin | sex worker!jk
Little L and L (level 2) | dilf!jk
My time (level 3) | rich!jk
Build to ride (level 4) | boyfriend!jk
Maserati (level 3) | boyfriend!jk
Milk and cookies (level 4) | husband!jk
☾ @/untaemedqueen
Thoery of power (level 4) | idol!boyfriend!jk
Room 732 (level 3) | assasin!jk
Cabin fever (level 4) | hybrid blackpanther!jk
☾ @/personasintro
Bloody hell (level 4) | boyfriend!jk
☾ @parkmuse
Ultimatum (level 4, its funny as hell) | boyfriend!jk
☾ @adonis-koo
Strictly business (level 4) | roommate!jk
Tease series (level 4) | stripper!sex worker!jk
☾ @/lavishedinjimin
All the good girls go to hell (level 3) | devil!jk
Brother’s bestfriend (level 3) | brother’s bestfriend!jk
☾ @sketchguk
The kids aren’t alright (level 4) | boyfriend!jk
☾ @7deadlysinsfics
Guess whos back (level 2) ft Jimin | ex-bf!jk
☾ @/taesinferno
Prima nocta (level 3) | king!jk
☾ @/scribblemetae
Playmate series (level 4) | idol!ot7
☾ @sungiest
Heavy machinery (level 3) | construction worker!jk
☾ @sweetheartjeongguk
It’s a stick-up (level 2, funny as hell) | boyfriend!jk
☾ @softlyjiminie
Yes, officer jeon! (level 4) | police officer!jk
☾ @/xpeachesncream
First position (level 4, fxfxm) | boyfriend!jk
☾ @/mercurygguk
Risqué (level 4) | older!jk (age gap)
☾ @jincherie
Cinnabar (dessert for two) (level 3) | strawberry shortcake!au
☾ Minlouvre
Nochu unsolved (level 4) | boyfriend!jk
☾ Dionisyoon
134340 (Pluto) (level 4) | professor!jk
☾ Cherry_koo
Redamancy (level 4) | husband!jk
☾ Akemi92
Inked (level 3) | fuckboy!jk fuckboy!tae
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❥ updated july, 17th. 2021
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back to master page
2K notes · View notes
v-hope · 2 months ago
“it's 2am. your lover is still playing video games in the living room, so you grab your pillow, settling yourself in between your lover's thighs as you watch them play, and soon enough, you're asleep again” with 🌺 jk pretty please??
Turning over to find nothing next to you in bed, where every single night your long term boyfriend would be, you whined — eyes heavily opening and adjusting to the darkness of the room as you heard a muffled sound coming from the living room.
Looking at the hour on your nightstand’s clock displaying the numbers 2:00, you sighed. Although it was no surprise for Jeongguk to be up at 2am on a Friday night, you were not happy over the fact that he was awake in the living room and not in bed with you, maybe watching a movie or trying to hold back eventual giggles as he watched funny videos on his phone as you soundly slept beside him.
Not giving it a second thought, you removed the covers from your body and grabbed your pillow, holding it tightly against your chest as you made your way over to the living room. Even though the only light in the room came from the TV, it wasn’t hard to find Jeongguk right in front of it, with a blanket covering his legs while he sat on the couch next to a fast asleep pupper — Tigger being just like you when it came to cherishing your sleep.
Standing by the entrance and staring at the PS controller in his hands, your eyes instinctively travelled to the TV, not being able to keep them from rolling in amusement. Of course he was still trying to pass the one stage he had been stuck in for a few days now.
Now, after three years of being together, you knew well enough you would not convince him to go back to bed until he was ready to let the game go. No matter how many times he nodded and hummed to let you know he was listening to you, he would always end up being too invested to actually go to sleep like you told him to.
So, not even trying anymore, you went up to him.
Jeongguk smiled as soon as he was aware of your presence — not a word coming out of his mouth, yet pausing his game and holding the blanket on his lap up for you to get in with him. Doing as he had silently motioned for you to, you sat down between his legs, resting your back on his chest, and smiling contentedly when he tucked you in with him and pressed a small kiss to the crown of your head, before his arms rested around you so he could keep playing.
“Are you winning?” you asked, eyes already closed yet still being nosy as you were.
“Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?” he answered with another question.
You smiled tauntingly. “Do I take that as a no?”
This time, a quite loud giggle escaped your lips, after hearing a small, whiny ‘aish’ coming from your boyfriend’s lips.
Opening your eyes and staring up to him, you reached up to plant a sweet kiss to the spot under his jaw. “I’ll have you know I only date winners, bun”.
“Yeah… Not sure about that, petal”.
Jaw hanging open at his passive aggressive comment towards your asshole of an ex, who was hardly ever brought up anymore, you gave him a light shove — one that had him both laughing lightly and calling you out on almost making him lose.
“Well, I’ll have you know I only intend to date winners from now on” you corrected your previous statement.
Jeongguk smiled at that, eyes still fixed on the video game in front. “I thought you only intended to date me from now on? Considering we’ve already made our life together?”
“Mhm…” you pressed a kiss to the crook of his neck. “Like I said, a winner”.
Your words earned a snort from him, shaking his head in amusement.
“Give me a few more hours and I’ll be just that”.
You whined, throwing your head back on his shoulder and hugging your pillow tighter to your chest. “It’s already two in the morning”.
“Exactly,” he nodded. “There’s a whole night to go”.
“But I’m tired” you pouted.
“Then close your eyes, baby”.
Huffing at his smartass answer, you ended up doing as told, letting go of your pillow and turning slightly towards him, so you could nuzzle his neck and place your arms around his waist.
“I will change the Play Station to our bedroom so you have no choice but to stay next to me while I sleep”.
Jeongguk chuckled silently at your supposedly threatening words, causing a smile to curve up the corners of your mouth over the way his chest trembled because of that.
“I tend to curse and whine a lot, though” he pointed out what you already knew — if anything, he was trying his hardest not to do any of those things right then, so you could have a good sleep. “You won’t mind?”
You shook your head no, a tired yawn coming out of your mouth as you inevitably began to drift off to sleep. “As long as I get to sleep with you…” your shoulders moved up in a faint shrug. “Plus, you won’t have me coming here being all clingy and keeping you from moving while I lie on top of you like I am now”.
He smiled wholeheartedly, pausing his game for a moment when he felt your body relax on his when you finally entered your dream, as if you had not been bickering with him only ten seconds ago.
Resting his back down lower against the couch so you could lie down more comfortably on his chest, he adjusted his arm over you so you wouldn’t slide down, later removing a strand of hair from off your closed eyes and lovingly staring at your sleeping face for a few seconds; not being able to hold himself back from pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before he could resume his game.
“I don’t mind this at all”.
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whatifyoulivelikethat · 27 days ago
well dressed, m | jjk
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
summary: Yes. It is a fact. Your boyfriend, Jeon Jungkook, an absolute stellar specimen of a human being, considers workout clothes hotter than lacey lingerie because he is (ahem, say this in the most endearing way possible, please and thank you) a fucking muscle pig.
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship; playful banter and shitty jokes; in which Jungkook attempts to become a porn director and gets mad clowned by his gf aka you; crack and fluff; living room smut (fem reader, ass + pussy slapping, dry humping, nipple play, fingering, JK lifts you up by the pussy, f-receiving oral, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS - blond!JK; the parenthesis are the reader’s inner thoughts; yes, I did reference the classic "Can I have Your Number?" 2007 Mad TV sketch XD
it’s the best laid plans / counter point couple and they’re crackheads no need to read the others, but they're there if you want more
“Does it not fit?”
“No, that isn’t the issue here…”
Your boyfriend was an idiot.
“The fuck is this?”
You walked out of the bedroom, glaring at Jeon Jungkook, your one-of-kind but also kind-of-an-idiot boyfriend (don't get it twisted, you were well aware you were also a special idiot). He was currently sitting on the couch, hands between his muscular open legs, wearing a sleeveless white tank (hot) and navy basketball shorts (double hot), grinning eagerly as you appeared (aww). You did not, however, bother coming out looking as sexy as possible (let’s be honest, Jungkook did not give two shits about clothes, not because you didn’t look cute in them, but because his preferred outfit on you was ‘birthday suit’ – butt-ass naked) because you were presently a bit peeved at him. Hm, how to say it?
Disappointed, but not surprised.
Jungkook’s eyes lit up and went all sparkly upon seeing you.
“Why did I know that when you said, I bought you some lingerie, you really just meant a sports bra and running shorts? By the way, these are obscenely short. My ass is hanging out the back.”
His smile was showing all of his teeth, giving him the appearance of a rambunctious and mischievous bunny. His long blond hair was swept to one side, definitely on purpose because you always told him it looked best that way. He was taking preventative measures.
You know, seducing you so you wouldn’t get mad at him for tricking you and putting you in workout clothes.
(It was working. You weren’t gonna say it wasn’t.)
“Is it? Turn around and let me check.”
You thinned your eyes and mouth into lines. You let him get away with so much shit because he was hot. Oh yeah, and also you were in love with him.
(It worked the other way around as well though. Couldn’t complain.)
You rolled your eyes and turned around, flipping your wrists to frame your ass with fanned fingers.
"Hello? There's a whole gust of wind back here and the seam is practically in my butt crack!"
You looked over your shoulder only to throw yourself into the wall, hurriedly spinning back around before your boyfriend, apparently a human rocket launcher, shot off the sofa and barreled towards you (move over Usain Bolt, you're not as fast as Jungkook when he was after your booty, no cap). You immediately planted your hands on his chest (definitely not planned, but also planned) and stiff-armed him, preventing him from coming any closer.
"Hold on a second! Acknowledge you're an animal!"
"I'm definitely an animal," Jungkook chirped with zero hesitation. "Now give me that ass."
You thinned your eyes and mouth into lines once again as Jungkook knocked your hands aside and grabbed two handfuls of your bare ass because quite frankly these shorts weren't doing shit, lifting you up and groaning lustfully while you flailed about for a second before grabbing his shoulders and hooking your legs around his torso, squeezing his chest with your thighs.
"You have a problem," you muttered.
Jungkook's face planted into your tits and he didn't reply, forearms pressed under your thighs, one tattooed, one not. You ran your fingers through his blond hair, clicking your tongue as your boyfriend committed erotic asphyxiation with your sports-bra-covered tits.
(Kinda rude to the naked titty, come on dude!)
Jungkook yanked his face out of your breasts, gasping for breath, silver eyebrow piercing flashing as he looked up at you, grinning very adorably.
Okay, one.
Man was too strong. Had a workout obsession and it clearly showed with how easily he was holding you up by your ass. To be fair, he had a vast amount of surface area to hold, for sure.
(Your bangin’ ass was due to your video game obsession, poggers!)
Fuck, he was so cute. The crinkles next to his sparkling brown eyes and huge smile with the little mole underneath? The little mole on his nose?! Fucking precious.
(Goddamn, you were such a simp, but, goddamn, did Jungkook make it easy.)
His fingers were sneaking closer and closer to that center seam.
"I thought we were supposed to work out," you said calmly and with zero intention to work out even if Jungkook hadn't made you dress like a slutty Pilates teacher. Hey, fitness was his thing. He had his thing and you had your thing. Your thing just happened to be sitting on your ass playing video games (a completely valid lifestyle, by the way).
Jungkook wiggled his eyebrows at you.
"We can work out," was his cheery reply that indicated zero intention of working out, sliding your legs back down so he could poke your covered vagina with his massive erection.
(Uh... huh.)
"You know, Jungkook," (you lovely, handsome, sweet, incredibly horny young man) "We can just fuck, hmmm, I don't know, naked, because this is our home and you don't actually need to buy me impractical workout clothing to get it on with me." You patted his cheek. "I swear you don't."
(Saves you money too, Jungkook, maybe you should consider it.)
Your boyfriend blinked at you, tilting his head. "Yeah, but I have fantasies."
You raised your eyebrows. "Go on, go on."
"You're at the gym working out," Jungkook started, dragging you along. The coffee table was moved and there was a yoga mat on the floor. Pink. It had been on sale. Jungkook had bought it in hopes that you would become interested in yoga, but one downward dog turned pretty quickly into downward doggy, woof, woof, bark, bark.
Also known as, you were interrupted with his dick.
You interjected immediately. "That would never happen. I don't like working out in public."
Jungkook frowned and slapped your ass, making you smirk. He narrowed his eyes.
"That's why it's a fantasy. Now shut up."
You squeezed him with your thighs and mimed zipping your lips.
"Anyway," Jungkook continued with a huff, ignoring your patronizing smile and going back to squeezing your ass, looking over your shoulder to watch the softness bulge out from between his fingers, suddenly forgetting how annoying you were (you knew the feeling). You leaned against him, chest to chest, on tiptoe so he could get a good grip, popping your booty to add to the visual.
"You're working out and then I notice you and we fuck."
(Are you listening, PornHub? Brazzers got nothing on Jeon Jungkook.)
"Just like that?" you snickered, trying to stifle your laughter threatening to escape.
"I mean, you're pretty hot. I don't need to ask too many questions."
He started bouncing the bottom of your ass with his fingertips, sighing at the perfect jiggle and perk. He always did compliment the roundness from top to bottom and it was further accented by the black short-shorts he had selected (man knew his workout fashion or, rather, man knew the workout fashion that would get him laid). It was hiking the hem deeper and deeper into your butt crack. Slightly uncomfortable, but it was being balanced out by Jungkook dry humping your crotch with his increasingly hard dick.
"I'm pretty hot, are you gonna ask me questions?" he shot back, increasing the vigor in his quest to dribble your ass. Was that why he wore basketball shorts? The mind of a horny man was truly fascinating.
You looked up at him with a big smile.
"Yeah, I’d ask, damn, can I have yo number?"
Jungkook burst out laughing at your sudden (and deliberately shitty) imitation of his Busan satoori.
“You’re so annoying–”
He did not get to tell you exactly how annoying you were being because you knew the power of redirected attention, spinning around and pressing your ass into the massive VIP tent in Jungkook’s shorts, trying to weasel your way into entry without having your name on the guest list. All you had to do was seduce the bouncer by rubbing your spread ass and bunched up shorts up and down his length, looking back with your tongue between your smirk, crossed arms under your sports bra, pressing inwards to increase your cleavage.
(Just kidding, you were definitely the only name on the VIP guest list to Jungkook’s dick, mwhahaha!)
“Can I have it? Can I have your number?” you teased, wiggling your eyebrows.
Your boyfriend was too busy moaning at your ass sliding up and down his crotch and thighs to actually respond, eyes glued to your body line, shoulders, tits, back, ass, wrapped in tight spandex and all the juicy bits straining against the too small sizes, all on purpose of course.
He did select the sizes himself.
“Can I please receive the secret code that will intelephonically pass me through to you?”
Jungkook snorted in laughter and smacked your ass, biting back his own groan. “Okay, shut up, I’ll think more about it next time so you’re not fucking clowning me, sheesh – oooh, f-fuck!”
You cut him off again by bending down and pressing your covered heat flush to his hardness, slowly curving back upward with your hands sliding up from your ankles, calves, thighs, framing your ass with your splayed fingers, spreading it out and letting it bounce back, Jungkook’s gasps behind you, forgetting everything he was going to scold you about. Your back to his chest, shoulder blades to his pecs, your arms lifting and reaching back, sinking your fingers into his blond hair and tugging him forward, sighing as his hungry lips feathered kisses all over your shoulders and neck, now actively (and aggressively) humping your ass, his own hands sliding up your torso to squeeze your breasts, slipping his fingers under the form-fitting fabric.
He mumbled your name into your skin between kisses, fingers sliding under the sports bra now, pushing it up, your breasts popping out, free for only a second before his palms were pressed against them, rubbing your hard nipples forcefully, his moan in your ear, your hands in his hair, arching your back to fill his hands and grind against his cock.
“You would really want me no matter what?” he murmured against your ear, biting the curve, tracing it with his tongue and sending shivers down your spine.
“Why are you asking?” you chuckled, closing your eyes, savoring the feeling of his fingers squeezing your nipples, teasing and plucking at them, electricity humming in your veins. “I made a move on you first, remember? When I asked if you wanted to bonk.”
Jungkook puffed his cheeks, letting out a huff of air. “We are still telling our children we went on nice, romantic dates first, by the way.”
“Not me, I’m telling them, your mom thought your dad was dummy hot so she flashed him some titty the second he was alone and he was hooked.”
“No, you will not–”
You spun around in his arms, yanking the sports bra off and tossing it aside, bouncing said seduction titties in his immediate vision. His wide brown eyes instantly honed in on your hard nipples poking out, rapidly sucking in a tight breath, the same exact reaction he had the first time he saw them, moan bubbling in his chest, glaring at you for a very brief second (his gaze read, how dare you, but also, fuck yeah!!!), before diving down, turning the tables on you, your turn to gasp sharply as hot lips and swirling tongue attached themselves to one and a wandering hand found the other, both of you moaning in unison, wrapped up in warm lust and strong arms.
His blond hair was messy, golden strands cascading down one side and curling around his high cheekbone and angular jaw, softening his handsome features, a perfect balance of cute and hot.
Jungkook’s eyes found yours, hazed out and reflecting your love for him.
(Remember that it was all his fault you had a massive wet wedgie right now. Hello? Hello? Still simping? Okay, never mind.)
“Would you even approach me?” you teased, running your fingers through his hair. “You couldn’t even speak to me the first time we met with your friends around.”
Jungkook pouted, narrowing his eyes at you. “That’s not my fault. How was I supposed to know that some random girl hyung met online playing freakin’ MapleStory was going to be literal walking sex?! I wasn’t prepared!”
You laughed cheerfully. “Still mad that I showed you my tits?”
“Fuck no. I have never been and will never be mad about that.”
Somehow seeing your tits had led Jungkook to be the horny animal he was today, but he made you a horny animal the second you saw him and all was fair in love and war, right? Right!
(For the record, Jungkook too was most certainly a horny animal the second he saw you, he just wasn’t going to admit it, we went on nice, romantic dates first!!!)
Which was precisely why he now yanked the shorts off your body (no panties, you knew where this was going the second you held those hilariously tiny shorts up to your lovely lady lumps), moaning at the sight of your soaked slit and seconds later his fingers were there, stroking your heat and your arousal, your hands on his shoulders, breathless cries as his fingers explored, grazing your clit, dipping in a little, teasing you with his touch and his mischievous eyes, dark brown orbs sparkling, knowing you were watching his arms, flexing them for you, black tattoos standing out against prominent muscle.
“F… Fuck, you’re so sexy, Jungkook…”
His hand slid back.
You moaned his name again, digging your nails into his shoulder as he tensed his forearm against your leaking pussy and leaned forward, biting the side of his lip playfully.
Then Jungkook lifted you with one arm.
You gripped his shoulders and gasped for breath, eyes widening, wetter at the feeling and the sheer display of strength, your slippery clit and lips rubbing against his inked skin, enough surface area that the weight was distributed pretty well, enough pressure to be throbbingly pleasurable, using his other hand to steady you by the hip so you wouldn’t fall.
“You can help me work out like this,” Jungkook remarked roguishly, lifting you up and down, smirking at your surprised and aroused reaction. “I think it would really help me out.”
“J-Jungkook, doesn’t t-this… oooh, fuck…”
Your hand had slipped down and touched his hard bicep.
Bless the gods that created Jeon Jungkook, seriously.
“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that forever. I wanted to make sure I was strong enough,” he breathed, slowly lowering you with a heavy, deep exhale, eyes roaming your naked body, smile dancing on his shapely lips.
(Was that why he worked out so much?! You would never mock his fitness obsession ever again.)
You grabbed his face, flurry of fierce kisses, tongue and lips and smiles, brief intermission to pull off his white tank before you lost yourself in his breath again, his heat, his skin, his scent, your hands all over his body and his all over yours, pressing his hands into your ass and dragging you to him, your tongue in his lips and being sucked on as you grinned in satisfaction, your fingertips slipping under the elastic waistband of his shorts.
“Not yet.”
You furrowed your brows, about to protest, but Jungkook pushed you down onto the pink yoga mat on hands and knees, your head whipping back and jaw dropping, but his fingers plunged into your wet heat before you got out any snappy objections.
Any words you had swiftly morphed into a wild moan of his name.
His free hand snaked around your waist, pumping two fingers in and out, deep and rough, just the way you liked, shudders of pleasure invading your body as he lifted your torso up, bending you backwards, tweaking your nipple, sultry chuckle in behind you as he increased the pace, hitting you in your favorite spot, your wetness creating loud, messy squelches with each thrust.
“You want this dick, hm?” he drawled, rubbing his covered, rock-hard erection against your thigh, the slinky fabric revealing that he was as turned on as you were, adding a third finger and making your moans pitch, a slight smile growing on your swollen lips.
“You’re just… stalling so you last more than two seconds…”
He snapped your name sharply and yanked his fingers out, smacking your soaked opening with a stinging slap.
(Weaker souls would immediately apologize, but remember you flashed him your tits the second you got him alone.)
You turned your head and grinned at Jungkook’s infuriated expression.
“You can do better than that.”
You rolled over, spreading your legs, and were met with rapid, swift smacks to your pussy and clit, back arching at the jolts of pain, moaning for him on the floor, staring at his slightly irritated expression and ash-blond curls, his blown-out pupils drifting up to see you gazing back under half-lidded lashes, aware your want was all over your face and open mouth, tongue hanging out and teasing him, seeing his breathing shallow, hand slowly shoving three fingers back into you, fast and fierce and deep, growling your name, cum for me, cum for all over my hand, you bad, bad girl, and grinning at your snippy reply, I’m only bad because you want me to be bad, Jungkook, because it was true, he knew what your reaction was going to be the minute he brought those gym clothes and you knew he would do something like that, the action being so very him.
That’s why you were together, because when you liked the brand of annoying the other was, making for a harmonious, happy, horny relationship.
(Aww. Okay, back to him ramming his fingers into your pussy.)
“Faster, fuck, yes, yes, ah, Jungkook…!”
Bucking your hips up and crying out, clenching around his long digits and squeezing around them, gasping as you felt your juices leaking out over his hand and your inner thighs, falling back down and hearing the embarrassing squish of your release onto the yoga mat (oop), closing your thighs around his tattooed forearm and pulsing around his fingers, moaning deeply as the waves of pleasure shimmered through you, your core clenched tight to feel every delicious flinch of your ebbing peak.
(Who needed sit-ups when you had Jungkook, right?)
His strong hands forced your legs open, lowering himself between them, sending you into a frenzy of short gasps as he pulled his fingers out, hot breath on your inner thighs as he groaned while licking them off, gasps turning into wanton cries when his lips molded to your trembling slit, lapping up your orgasm, swiping at your engorged clit, holding your squirming hips still with his firm grip, the sensitivity raring through your nerves, trying to get away even though you didn’t want to get away, appreciating that he could tell from your panting noises that vaguely resembled, oh, God, don’t stop, marveling at his deep kissing skills (read: furious tonguing of your pussy), heart racing, spine arching, shivering with intense, blazing desire.
“J-Jungkook… please… w-want your cock, please…”
He had unquestionably been waiting for you to say it, although he had completely forgotten to tease or chastise you about it, instead emerging from between your legs with his glistening chin and bright smile, reaching into his pocket to pull out a condom (clever boy, he planned this, although deducing that did not, in fact, take a team of dinosaur genetic scientists), ripping it open as you yanked the rest of his clothes off, running your fingers over his exposed length and balls, smirking as you felt him twitch, hot taut skin quivering under your touch.
Jungkook slapped your hand. “Stop that.”
You scrunched up your face. “Meanie.”
“You want a good railing or not?”
“Am I the stairs?”
His pierced eyebrow twitched.
“I swear I’m gonna gag you next time,” he muttered, shoving you back down.
“You always say that, but you like it – oh, fuuuuuuuck!”
“Fuck, why are you still so tight–?”
All the words meshed together, lost in incomprehension and pleasure as he entered you, thick, hard, stretching you out, your walls closing in on him, enveloping him tightly with every centimeter that he pushed in, clutching your thighs and panting, shaking brown orbs gazing up at you. You tried to wipe the triumphant smile off your face, too greatly pleased at his reaction.
He glared at you accusingly. “You’re doing it on purpose!”
“Nooooooo…” you sing-songed, grin popping out involuntarily.
Jungkook clenched his jaw, looking a tiny bit scary, but mostly hot as hell. “I’m gonna fuck your brains out.”
“Wait, I need my brai–”
He cut you off by grabbing your legs and sandwiching them between his (buff) arms, bending you in half (improving flexibility!!!) before he started aggressively pounding you into the pink yoga mat with loud smacks of hips to hips.
“Ah, Jungkook!”
(Again, working out is a matter of perspective, remember that, kids.)
Your arms were above your head, moaning to his face, ecstasy flaring all over, looking up into those dark brown eyes that were watching you and your sensual expression, wanting him, needing him, loving him, sweat sticking his ash blond hair to his forehead and cheeks, open mouth and hot pants, so hard, fucking you with deliberate power and measured roughness, so soft, only able to gasp out your name in his deep, silvery voice clouded with lust and adoration, so perfect, because you knew he always did that when he really couldn’t stop himself and he was trying not to cum too fast so he could fuck you as long as possible and not disappoint you, not that he ever could disappoint you with his stubborn determination and relentless diligence, deeper, harder, right there, right there, ah, Jungkook, I’m gonna cum, f-fuck, tumbling into euphoria as he tensed his jaw and his eyes rolled back at the pulsating massage of your powerful walls stimulating him from base to tip, thrusting for all his was worth until he managed to get out…
“Fuck, goona cum, fuck!”
Very loudly, your name exploding out of his mouth and his cock jolting inside you, the buck of his hips indicating the strength and ferocity of his orgasm along with his obscenely loud moan, filling up the whole apartment with his climax in the middle of the day (oop), your cum dripping down and soaking into the mat (double oop), feeling Jungkook’s defined torso shake from the tremors of your pleasure and his (definitely not an oop).
“Hah… oooh, shit…”
Your legs slid down and he lowered himself to his elbows, kisses once more, tongues and lips and smiles, laughing a little at the mess, wrapping your arms around his sweaty body.
“We need to work on your idea of sexy lingerie.”
Jungkook laughed, rich and full and lovely. “I’ll keep trying. Maybe you need an even smaller size.”
“A smaller size would literally vaporize into my ass crack.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“You gonna plan a better fantasy?”
“Shut up.”
767 notes · View notes
hueseok · 2 months ago
A LOVER’S KISS ( index. )
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a friends with benefits relationship never ends on a good note. unless, both parties are not dumb fucks who find themselves falling for each other along the way of their agreement, of course.
and in yours and jeongguk’s case, you should have known better than to think the two of you would be an exception to the so-called curse of being friends with benefits with someone you already hold dear to you, since not even five months since it was agreed upon—the line between being only friends and being a little like lovers only continue to get hazier and hazier.
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pairing: jeongguk x reader
rating: 18+
content: smut | angst | fluff | friends with benefits au | idiots to lovers au | college au | yearning? pining? | ft. swimmer!jeongguk, editor-in-chief!reader (small appearances from swimmer!jimin & associate editor!taehyung)
gen. warning/s: swearing | mature themes | implicit / explicit sexual content
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THE PARTS. ( 13 / 16. )
♡ EPISODE 01. the one with the rumor ! [nsfw.]
♡ EPISODE 02. the one with the mood booster ! [nsfw.]
♡ EPISODE 03. the one with ex-boyfriend !
♡ EPISODE 04. the one with the threat !
♡ EPISODE 05. the one with the double ambush !
♡ EPISODE 06. the one with the martyr !
♡ EPISODE 07. the one with the fever !
♡ EPISODE 08. the one with the end of an era ! [nsfw.]
♡ EPISODE 09. the one with the new territory ! [nsfw.]
♡ EPISODE 10. the one with the rule break ! [nsfw.]
♡ EPISODE 11. the one with the mystery girl ! [nsfw.]
♡ EPISODE 12. the one with the tension !
♡ EPISODE 13. the one with the outburst !
♡ EPISODE 14. the one with the...
♡ EPISODE 15. the one with the...
♡ EPISODE 16 (FINALE). the one with the...
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THE EXTRAS. ( 01 / ∞ )
♡ MINISODE 01. the one with the hickey !
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( 01. ) just friends; audrey mika | a.d.i.d.a.s.; little mix
( 02. ) cool; dua lipa | obvious; ariana grande | love the way; yugyeom (ft. jay park & punchnello)
( 03. ) lowkey; niki
( 04. ) talk me down; troye sivan
( 05. ) mr. brightside; the killers
( 06. ) kathang-isip; ben&ben | deja vu; olivia rodrigo
( 07. ) double take; dhruv | square; yerin baek
( 08. ) fuck up the friendship; leah kate
( 09. ) goodnight n go; ariana grande | pretty boy; the neighbourhood
( 10. ) kiss me more; doja cat ft. sza
( 11. ) irresistible; one direction
( 12. ) lmly; jackson wang
( 13. ) if you don’t know; 5 seconds of summer | just friends; keshi
( 14. ) cheating on you; charlie puth
( 15. ) dreaming alone; against the current
( 16. ) fool for you; zayn | off my face; justin bieber
click here for the spotify playlist kindly made by @himboksj ! since it was created as a collaborative playlist, feel free to add some songs you think fit the vibe of this series :> [and i’ll just assign them to a episode number i feel it fits the most hehe]
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about alk’s update schedule
how alk!jk looks at oc
when alk!jk realized he might be catching real feELInGS
what haru looks like
what soomi looks like
the inspiration behind alk hehe
alk!jk vibes
alk pairing vibes
alk!jk vibes (2)
NOTEWORTHY ASKS (w/ drabbles).
oc highkey having a fat crush on jk 😩🤚🏼
fave positions
tiddy fucking
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1K notes · View notes
bts-bay-bee · 12 days ago
brain dead
Pairing: jeon jungkook x fem!reader
Genre: smut
Word Count: 1315
Warnings: unprotected sex (please just… don’t), overstimulation, crying, multiple sex positions, multiple orgasms, dom!jungkook (kind of), dirty talking, cursing, finger sucking, unedited work, please don’t come for me this is pure filth
a/n: so, I’ve finally had an *actual* productive day, so I don’t feel guilty about writing this! I hope you guys like it; it’s been a while since I’ve written anything and actually posted it, tbh
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The headboard continuously slammed into the wall, loud bangs drowning out the grunts and breathy curses that fell from Jungkook’s chapped lips. You see, you say Jungkook’s lips because you were currently alternating between muffling your mouth with his free hand and wrapping your lips around his digits – basically, your mouth was too busy to do anything, which in all honesty worked out in your favour – if your mouth were to be unoccupied, you would probably have gotten even more noise complaints.
 “Fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good.” He moaned, slipping his slick fingers out of your mouth and around your neck, not applying any pressure, but using it to pull you up so that your back was flush against his chest. “Little cunt sucking me right up, huh? Missed my cock stretching you open?”
 “God, yes, Kook,” You whined, reaching for his hand, missing the feeling of his fingers in your mouth. Tiny sobs wrecked through your chest, the feeling of his length forcing your walls apart in the best possible way quickly becoming too much, too fast. You could feel your core pulsing – surely Jungkook could feel it too? – but he did not stop; hell, he did not even slow down.
 Realising you wanted to muffle your cries, he laughed breathlessly, sweat beading on his forehead from all of the exertion.
 “What’s wrong, love?” He asked, wrapping his arms around your torso, holding you tightly in place. “Why do you want to cover up those pretty sounds? You know I love hearing you fall apart.”
 “I’m gonna – I’m gonna be too loud,” You mumbled, your hand barely keeping you upright as you gripped the headboard, your boyfriend’s forceful thrusts rattling your body. “We’ll get noise complaints again – oh, my God, right there! Please, please, Jungkook, please, don’t stop,”
 “There?” Jungkook grunted, angling his hips so that the tip of his shaft dragged against the sensitive cluster of nerves. Squeezing your eyes shut, you felt your pleasure peak exponentially, all the sensations that your boyfriend oh so generously bestowed to you becoming too much. Clawing at his biceps, you finally broke, high, nonsensical moans suddenly filling the air as Jungkook unwrapped his arms from your middle to rub his still slickened digits over your clit, simultaneously tweaking your nipple as he bit down into your neck.
 Evidence of your climax dripped down your thigh and Jungkook’s member; the wet, sticky noises and scent of cum filling the air.
 Quickly reaching your limit from riding out your high, you began feeling overstimulated, your entrance already puffy and swollen from how hard Jungkook had been thrusting into you.
 Before you could do anything, much less say anything, Jungkook suddenly pressed himself against you hard, his face burying in the crook of your neck as he empties himself in your core. Deep grunts and curses get muffled and fall into nothingness as his stomach and chest move erratically, coming harder than he ever has before, his cum engulfing your core.
 Without missing a beat, Jungkook moves you so that he was spooning you, not bothered to pull out yet. He held you tightly, muscular arms wrapped around you, instinctively going to cup your breasts.
 There was comfortable silence that filled the room, barely broken by you craning your neck to leave soft kisses on his bicep. He mumbled something into your neck, voice too muffled to hear what he had said. Humming in response – neither of you fully coherent after that numbing orgasm – you trailed your hand down the length of his abdomen, smirking when you felt how tense he still was.
 “Loosen up, baby,” You teased, pinching his side to mess with him. “Why are you so stiff?”
 “I want to fuck you again,” He whispered, voice gravelly and husky. “Everything in my head is screaming at me to fuck you so deep that you’re crying, fuck you so deep that your tiny cunt is filled to the brim with my cum, and I just – fuck –”
 You could barely comprehend his words, pussy already throbbing from the pounding he had given you not even five minutes ago, but you did not protest as he untangled his arms from your chest, choosing to hover over you instead.
 His crude words went straight to your core, your senses set alight, ignoring the tiny stabs of overstimulation that came with every tiny, shallow experimental thrust from Jungkook’s hips.
 Your brain seemed to be full of fog, a single coherent thought unable to be produced no matter how hard you tried to focus. All that you could process was just how God damn sexy Jungkook looked over you, his shallow ruts returning to the usual, deep, rhythmic thrusts that you will never get enough of.
 “God, Kook, please, you’re so fucking good, making me feel so fucking good –”
 You broke into mindless babbles, voice cracking repeatedly as the pleasure mingled with the pain from your cunt being stimulated too much. Tears blurred your vision as your umpteenth orgasms for the night ravished through you, overriding your body with no indication that it had even approached.
 Even more juices coated your thighs, your core squeezing around your boyfriend’s cock as you came hard, nails scratching down his back as he grunted in pain. You could feel his cock twitching, your orgasm triggering his own, but he continued fucking into you, gasps and breathy moans leaving him.
 “Fuck, Y/N,” He gasped, ignoring the claws of overstimulation gripping him. “You feel – fuck – so tight, so wet. Such a good, little cum slut for me; only me, right?”
 “Only you, only…” Words refused to part with your lips, refused to be formed by your tongue; your entire body going slack as the pleasure became too much. You just wanted to cum inside you deep, so deep you would feel it in you for days. As soon as you looked up into his eyes, wanting – no – needing, to tell him, to beg him to fill you up, you gasped when you saw the tears streaming down his face.
 His big, usually alert, eyes were full of tears, his cheeks shining from the wetness that had already fallen. Before you even thought about asking him about it, a fresh wave of tears fell down his features, his lips parting as words tumbled out,
 “Hurts so much, but your cunt feels so good around me, I can’t stop, please don’t make me stop, baby –” He choked, nonsensical ramble stopped for barely a second, “Need to make you feel good, need to feel you cum around me one more time. Y/N, please, I need to fuck you until I physically can’t, never want to leave your pussy, please –”
 Somewhere between his cries and his sinful movements, you came, pleasure making you feel as if you were formless. In the fogginess of your brain, you felt Jungkook pump his cum into you with a deep moan, his tears falling onto your cheeks as overstimulation gripped him again, back spasming as he came.
 Exhaustion caused Jungkook to collapse on you, barely holding up his own weight as he rolled next to you, pulling out of your core with a wince. Despite being tired, his gaze fell to your messy core; a sinful mixture of arousal and cum smeared and dripping down your pussy. Through your half-lidded eyes, you saw him lick his lips, causing you to whine.
 “Don’t even think about it,” You threatened, albeit weakly, since you could barely get your mouth to function. He grinned mischievously, looking like a toddler who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar as he moved his hand that had been inching down towards your leaking slit. “I’m used to you fucking me brain dead, but you fucking yourself brain dead? I don’t know how you do manage to become sexier every time we fuck, Kook.”
982 notes · View notes
chateautae · a month ago
— new fic drop! [♡]
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banner by miss solaris @jamaisjoons <3
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➵ summary: jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.
↳ part of the Namkook Moonrise Masquerade collab hosted by @jamaisjoons​ !​​
➵ pairing: fallen lucifer!jungkook x human!reader
➵ genre: supernatural/fantasy!au, romance, e2l, road trip, angst, fluff, smut, three-shot
➵ rating: 18+
➵ word count (first part): est. 25k
➵ warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, semi-biblically-accurate depictions of angels and demons, supernatural themes, explicit sexual content 
➵ release date: september 17th, 2021.
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taglist is now open! please contact me in anyway to be added to the taglist, anyone on my permanent taglist will automatically be added!! :)
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802 notes · View notes
minyfic · 26 days ago
angels like you - JJK | M
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↣ show up and dance, that’s what you expected to happen on another insipid Saturday evening that was stolen by your college, what you didn’t expect was a dance partner who was chosen for you without your knowledge.
read another social experiment here ⚘
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pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: smut, fluff, s2l
word count: 3.8K
warnings/tags: college au, social experiment, dancer!jungkook, dancer!reader, strong language, buff JK aha, explicit smut- dirty talk, biting/scratching, hickeys, car sex, grinding, clit pinching, fingering, edging, pussy slapping, hair pulling, slight overstimulation, riding, protected sex
a/n: just because I keep thinking about social experiments that’ll never happen irl & Jungkook’s abs | The song they dance to is Sin City by Chrishan
Shoving the double doors open, you halt in your step when the sight of a huge partition at the center of the hall greets you.
You haven’t been here for years, but you know well enough that the partition was Mrs. Ahn’s idea.
Sighing, you adjust your gym bag strap on your shoulder and make your way toward Hoseok, whose excitement causes you to groan internally. You set your bag on the bench against the wall and cross your legs as you sit next to him on the cool flooring, loud chatter drowning out any other sound.
“Hi,” he beams, nudging your shoulder, “are you excited for today?”
Scrubbing your palms down your face, you rest your elbows on your thighs and give him an unenthusiastic nod.
He clicks his tongue, arms on your shoulders, “come on. It’s gonna be fun.”
“Well,” you shrug off his hold, “it’ll be fun for you because you actually liked your routine. I hate mine.”
“You’ve being saying that for the past two weeks, but you literally kill the dance.”
You roll your eyes, “yeah, but that doesn’t mean I like it.”
He taps his chin, “what don’t you like about it?”
“I don’t know,” you fiddle with your shoelaces, “it just feels incomplete. Not the routine…But like, the dance.”
You wave your arms in the air when he shoots you a confused look.
“I don’t know how to explain it!”
This dumb experiment is what caused your recent moods to be so shitty and out of control. Everybody else in your class received their own, fun, show-stopping choreography while you were stuck to practice a mediocre routine that felt…unfinished. The isolations and pauses annoyed you. While Hoseok said that everyone’s routine is different, that didn’t stop you from asking Mrs. Ahn for a new one. She had declined, obviously.
“I wonder if they have the tracks ready,” Hoseok whispers, you follow his line of sight to the DJ on the other end of the stage.
Adding to your irritation, the song that was chosen for you. If you hear it one more time, you might puke all over the stage.
It’s sexy, any other day, you would’ve loved it, but it just added to the feeling that the dance might be lacking.
You have no idea whether this counts toward your portfolio, so you couldn’t make any alterations, or add your own spice to the dance.
“What’s with the partition?”
Hoseok whips his head around to stare at the white, immovable barrier, some students lean against it as they chat.
“I think there’s other students on the other side.”
You narrow your eyes at him, mouth in a frown, “why would they separate us?”
He shrugs, still eyeing the large wall that starts at the edge of the stage and ends at the back of the hall.
“Must be part of the experiment.”
This whole experiment that Mrs. Ahn has been raging on about for a month and a half, without providing proper details, sets an uncomfortable stir in your gut.
Given a song and a routine, you were to prepare for an audience.
The problem is that you have no idea who might be sitting in that audience, who you have the potential to disappoint. A shiver courses along the length of your spine, clenching your fists before going through the insipid routine in your head.
After another ten minutes of speculation between you and Hoseok, Mrs. Ahn emerges from behind the curtain on the stage as it draws open, wearing a hideous poncho.
“Good evening students!”
She receives a phlegmatic response which causes her eyebrows to furrow, although her smile doesn’t falter.
“Ah. I know this must seem like a waste of a Saturday night but I promise, it’ll be worth it.”
Your scoff earns a giggle from Hoseok.
When you acknowledge that she’s speaking to both sides of the partition, you surmise that Hoseok was correct.
“Alright, I know me and Mr. Choi,” she smiles at the unfamiliar man who stands behind the DJ, wearing a navy-blue tracksuit, “haven’t given you much to work with, but today’s the day. Why have you been working so hard these past few weeks?”
The students around you straighten their posture, some wearing grins that display their alacrity while others sport the same expression you’ve had for the past hour.
She clears her throat, squinting at the paper supposed Mr. Choi hands her.
“Okay,” she begins, “the aim of this social experiment is to prove the different bonds that can be formed through dance.”
You poke Hoseok’s shoulder, “hasn’t this been done before?”
He hushes you with a dismissive wag of his finger, fixated on Mrs. Ahn as she continues to read.
“But, we’ve given each of you different routines. What you don’t know is that we’ve selected a partner from another college-“ she points to your side of the partition “-college A-“ then the other side “-college B.”
Her loud chuckle causes your heart rate to pick up, interest in the experiment building the more she speaks.
“Who has also been practicing your routine!”
You smack Hoseok’s arm, stomach twisting with nerves. He retaliates with a smack of his own, heart-shaped smile even brighter.
“Now, you must be wondering why this big hunk of plastic is splitting the hall into two. Well, we need to keep you separated until you perform your dance, where you meet and perform together for the first time! You know, so the results of the experiment aren’t affected.”
Hoseok pats your shoulder, “maybe what your dance needed was a partner.”
You blink, not given enough time to process his statement before Mrs. Ahn instructs everyone to warm-up before she starts calling people out to perform.
“Oh, and one more thing,” she grins, “after your performance, you’re free to stay and watch the others or head home. You must report back to me or Mr. Choi. Thank you and I hope you all have fun!”
Spinning around, you see Hoseok wiggling his eyebrows.
“Told you it might be fun.”
You shove his shoulder, rolling your neck and arms, “this was before you knew any of the secret partner shit.”
His head cocks to the side, “yeah, I just know things.”
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It isn’t long before you’re all seated as Mrs. Ahn calls out a name from your college, then the other. You’ve seen Taehyung practice and you know what to expect from his dance, but the look of wonder on his face when he sees his partner, Park Jimin, for the first time, has more nerves fizzing. What would it be like when you see your partner? What would they be like? How would you dance together? Would you even dance together like how Taehyung and his partner seem to mesh into the movements?
By the end of their dance, you can tell that they’d be good friends, if the way Taehyung ruffles Jimin’s hair is any indication. They choose to watch the other students perform and disappear behind the partition, laughter surrounding them.
“Jung Hoseok.”
You pat Hoseok’s bum as he passes you, everyone cheering him on as he makes his way up the stairs and onto the stage, spring in his step as always.
“Lee Eunji.”
All the students fill the air with suggestive ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ as they bow and the jaunty theme of their song begins.
Hoseok, being Hoseok, invites her closer to him as they dance, smiles splitting their faces with each of their snappy, practiced movements.
You’re smiling just as wide, thrilled to see him enjoying himself with a complete stranger, how their movements connect, bouncing in the air, sliding into each other.
“Go Hoseok!”
Cheeks beginning to ache, you slip back on the floor when the song comes to a close, palms burning with your applause.
“Would you like to stay and watch or are you heading out?”
Hoseok glances at Eunji, hands on his hips as he catches his breath.
She shakes her head, “we’re heading out.”
Everyone goes delirious, whoops shaking the hall as they disappear behind the curtain.
You’re impatient to hear about Hoseok’s new friend, it’s been a while since his last relationship. Mostly because it fucked him up, and to see him enjoy himself with someone new makes your heart soar.
Broken out of your thoughts, you throat goes dry when you hear your name being called, unfolding your legs as you pad along the wooden floor, corners of your mouth lifting when you see Mrs. Ahn waiting at the top of the stairs.
From the stage, you can see over twenty curious eyes blinking at you, half of them you don’t recognize.
“Jeon Jungkook.”
Clenching your fists, the same whoops cause your throat to constrict when you see your partner.
Black shorts and t-shirt, dark blue shirt draped over his broad shoulders, silver earrings, black hair, handsome.
Hot. That’s how you feel as he stands next to you on the stage. Chancing a glance, you catch sight of a dimple in his cheek as he sucks his lower lip into his mouth, bowing when he sees you looking at him.
For a millisecond, you’re rooted to the floor, palms sweaty, mind going blank as his gaze rakes down your figure, pausing on your thighs.
You have a reputation to uphold and as soon as the music starts, you’re swaying, unable to tear your gaze away from him as he mirrors your movements. He’s watching you too, from five feet away.
Sin Sin City wasn’t made for you Angels like you
Your fingers crawl across your chest, one leg in front of the other as you snap forward, eyes on his movements, just as fluid. He body rolls toward you, and for a split second you forget the next move but cover it up with a bounce of your leg. He seems to catch it, a smirk stretching over his lips as he moves even closer.
Oh you know it, oh you know it Oh you know it Right now
“I don’t bite.” He says, loud enough for you to hear, voice clear and smooth, like his movements, sending a shiver down your spine. Breath beginning to quicken, you spin around to be met with his firm chest. So, your dance was designed for a partner. Everybody’s dance was, but you only notice it when his hand slides under your arm, chest pressed against yours, hooded eyes watching you.
Take that off I just wanna see you Your legs so soft I had to be near you
You twirl around, hair flopping over your face as you bend over, ass out, feeling his legs press into the backs of your thighs. Did…Mrs. Ahn choreograph this dance? Snapping up, left arm in the air, his lips graze your ear as you sink back down, body held up by his, heat radiating off his chest.
Thoughts in mind, going so crazy I just wanna hear you
Too immersed in his scorching stare, you feel him lift you up by the shoulders, spinning you around and guiding your hips to the beat, sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead. His pink lips, doe eyes, silky skin are things you would never see in your wildest dreams. Who would’ve thought that you’d end up meeting a sexy man during this stupid experiment? Not you.
He slings an arm around your waist as you slide down, chin tipping up as you stare at him, light casting an ethereal glow to his face. When you come back up, his lips are a breath away from yours, parted, hot air blowing into your mouth. You gulp, suddenly remembering that you have an audience to please and bounding a few feet away from him, getting back in the groove, but his touch on your waist returns, reminding you that this dance is meant for two.
One touch on your body, what I’ve prepared for you Nothing will spare you
“Running away from me.” He rasps into your ear, eyes on the way your leg slips between his his, palms on his chest. “No,” you breathe, smoothing your hair over your shoulder as you back into him, lips curling into a smirk. He accepts your hips, grinding into you, strong thighs dragging along yours.
Pussy so wet, I feel the drip coming down Must be in Houston
His fingers patter along your back, bringing you flush to his chest as his hand slips under yours another time, legs sliding back as yours slide forward, grinning at each other. You’re lost in his warmth, adrenalin rushing through your veins when he sinks to his knees and crawls forward, jolting back up to stand a few feet behind you.
You close your eyes, you feel the rise, I go inside I’m shooting
Eyes on the crowd now, you repeat the movements from earlier, feeling his stare on your ass when you skip forward and jerk around, hands sliding over your hair and down your sides. You want to entertain him more than anyone else.
Sin City wasn’t made for you Angels like you
In one swift movement, you’re yanked into his chest again, stumbling a bit as the song ends. Your eyes follow his tongue as it skims across his lower lip, hands resting on his sides, trying to catch your breath, the cheers from the other students are background noise to your thundering heart.
Mrs. Ahn’s signature chuckle causes you to spring away from him, lip caught between your teeth.
“I think we all know your answer,” she winks.
Jungkook glances at you before his hand slips into yours, grabbing his backpack from the corner of the stage, then drags you down the stairs. You scoop up your gym bag, cheeks heating as you pass the other students who yell all kinds of obscene encouragement.
When you bound out of the hall, he’s pressing you into the notice board, head dipping as he speaks.
“I’m Jungkook,” he pants, blinking furiously.
“I know,” you smile, appreciating the glint in his eyes as he stares into yours, seeing a cute mole under bottom lip.
He lets go of your shoulders and scratches behind his ear, glancing at the car park that’s visible through the glass doors at the end of the hallway.
“Do you wanna go—”
“Yeah,” you shuffle down the hallway, hoping things aren’t turning awkward after your electrifying dance.
Wringing your hands, you point to your car that’s parked in the unlit corner of the lot, wondering how he got here.
He follows you wordlessly, chucking his bag in the backseat when you unlock your car.
You grip the steering wheel, staring into the darkness through the windshield, the lights from inside the hall do little to brighten up the area.
In your eighteen years of dancing, you’ve never felt that way, ever, when you danced with anyone. Maybe it was the song, maybe it was the routine itself, maybe it was just him. You don’t know. All you know is that he smells amazing as he presses his forehead to yours, cupping your cheeks, heart skipping a few beats.
“Is this okay?”
Skin erupting in a wave of goosebumps, sweat trickling down your neck, pussy clenching when your eyes meet, you nod, moaning with the first brush of his lips against yours, arms sliding up his toned shoulders to rest on the curves of his neck, breathing in his delicious scent. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss as his thumb rubs the skin below your ear, tongue slipping into your mouth.
“Fuck,” he groans, pulling away with a shaky sigh, “what the fuck was that.”
“I…” you begin, searching for the correct words as this man, who was a stranger only an hour ago, kisses down your neck, and you can’t bring yourself to stop him because it feels so good.
His eyebrows knit together, wet strands of hair pressing into your forehead, lips connecting once more, as if words are nothing compared to the sparking caresses, the drop your stomach does when he places his hands on your hips, lifting you up onto his lap.
“We just met and I feel…I feel—”
You rock your hips, his erection pressing into your core, moans mixing in the air when you do it again and again, soaking through the material of your leggings.
“Want you,” he chases your lips, hips jerking up, causing a fresh wave of arousal to soak your panties when you hear the whine in his voice.
Burying your face in his heated skin, you suckle on the junction between his neck and shoulder, windows fogging up with your heavy breaths, similar to the way lust jumbles any other thought, the knot building in your abdomen with each drag of his cock against your clit, nipping the skin as he grinds into you, hot breath hitting your ear.
“Fuck, if you keep doing that,” he grits, fingers twisting into your hair, a string of curses slipping from his lips as your hips work faster, “’m gonna cum.”
“Want you to cum,” you mewl, pussy clenching when your eyes lock, lips kiss-bitten and slick, the sparkle in his eyes illuminating the dim space.
His palms slide up your thighs, fingers digging into the flesh to pause your movements. His eyebrow jumps in question, corner of his mouth quirking up when you hiss as he snaps the band of your leggings.
“Yes,” you sigh, desperate for friction, whimpering when his hand dips into your panties, choosing to slide across your folds, gathering your slick on his fingers.
Your head lolls forward, colliding with his shoulder when his thumb nudges your clit, with his index and middle finger sinking into your heat, gasping out his name as he massages your walls, calloused pads of his fingers dragging along the ridges, his other hand rocking your hips into his palm, thumb rubbing tight circles on your throbbing bud.
He hooks his fingers on the fifth stroke and your pussy squeezes around his fingers, teeth piercing into your bottom lip, so close to the edge.
He places his index finger under your chin, tipping your head up, pupils blown, cheeks flushed.
“Gonna cum?”
You nod meekly, rutting into his hand, knowing your slick must be dripping down his fingers and the stickiness of his hand that rubs against your thigh proves it, blurting out how amazing his fingers feel, how hot you think he is, how good he smells.
His hand is back on your thigh, holding you in place as he fucks his fingers into you ruthlessly, moaning with you when you bite down on his shoulder to keep from screaming out his name.
“Shit, so tight. Take my fingers so well,” he husks, and much to your dismay, removes his fingers from inside you, placing them flat on your clit, “can imagine how good you’ll feel bouncing on my cock.”
Eyes wide in shock, lips trembling, you bang a fist on his chest from having your orgasm ripped away, pussy clenching around nothing.
He taps your swollen folds twice, pinching your clit with his thumb and forefinger before landing two harsh smacks to your cunt, causing you to tremble, eyes glazing over.
The heavy outline of his cock catches your eye, fingers snaking down his side to squeeze it in your palm, relishing in the way his Adam’s apple bobs as his head hits the seat, mumbling out your name.
“Take it out.”
You don’t process his words until his eyes snap open, staring at you through his lashes.
Tugging on the band of his shorts, you pull it over his meaty thighs, salivating at the glistening tip of his thick cock, precum smeared along the head.
He cups your jaw, thumb pressing into your cheek as he reaches behind him with his other his hand, unzipping the front compartment of his backpack, producing a condom.
You’re stock still under his fiery gaze, firm grip on your jaw keeping your eyes on him as he rips open the condom packet with his teeth, spitting out the piece of foil that got into his mouth. That shouldn’t be hot, but here you are, pussy ready to be split open by his girthy cock that twitches when you lick your lips.
His eyes dart to your leggings and you scramble to pull it off your legs, struggling for a bit before he helps you, useless fabric being thrown in the back seat.
Eyes still on yours, he pushes your panties to the side, covering his fingers in your slick before popping the digits into his mouth, a whimper bubbles from your lips at the sight. He points to his cock with his big doe eyes, licking his fingers clean.
With shaky fingers, you grip the base of his cock and lift your hips over his length, slit positioned over the blunt tip, eyes watering as you sink down, loud moans echoing in the stuffy space.
Fully sheathed in your heat, he wraps his arms around your torso, bringing you into his chest as he pistons his hips, cock lodged deep inside you with each pleasurable drag.
“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he pecks the side of your head, speaking through gritted teeth as you lose yourself on his cock, bouncing weakly, ass rippling when your skin slaps against his.
Walls closing around his length, you jolt when he brushes that sensitive spot inside you, hands slipping into his hair as you chase your high for the second time tonight, clit rubbing against his pelvis, drenching his lap with your arousal.
“Fuck, bounce on my cock baby. Come on.”
Fulfilling his breathless request, you place your hands on his shoulders and lift your hips faster, spasming on each thrust, thighs burning, more sweat pooling under your shirt, nails forming crescent moons on his skin, groaning out his name when your abdomen knots impossibly tight.
When he tugs on your hair, massaging your scalp straight after to soothe the burn, teeth clamping down on your earlobe, you cum, seeing stars behind your lids, hips still working as you ride out your high, mouth hanging open in a silent moan, immersed in the burn, mind going hazy.
Cheek resting on his shoulder, you cry out as he continues to slide into your throbbing hole, laying limp in his hold as he spills into the condom, blurting out his own praises.
A satisfied sigh leaves your swollen lips, nuzzling into the soft material of his shirt. You never would’ve thought that tonight with end this way, with an attractive, beefy guy kissing the top of your head, sniffing through your hair.
Bodies stuck together, hissing when his cock slips out of you, he runs his palms down your back, index fingers resting in the dip. You could fall asleep in his warm embrace but the next thing he says has your eyes snapping open.
“Should we…report back now?”
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a/n: please don’t feel shy to send in feedback, hearing your thoughts serve as motivation :)
talk to my characters
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taglist: @ggukkieland @moonchild1 @mwitsmejk @fancycollectormoon @nglmrk @bex-92br @taeslarityy @helenazbmrskai @deliciouslydisturbed365 @sweetonkookieandtae
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