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#jungkook smut
fantaesize · 2 days ago
Deepest Desire [JJK]
—Pairing(s): Jeongguk X Fem!Reader
—Word Count: 3.7k+
—Genre: Smut, Fluff
—Warning(s): mature language and explicit description of intercourse, protected sex (wow is Niika okay??), vaginal sex, nipple play, breast play, pussy eating, soft sex🥲, reader cries due to emotional overwhelm, marking (hickeys, back scratching), poetic description of love/sex as a drug (like, one sentence)
—Summary: When Jeongguk is staying the night another casual Friday and there's a blackout, you're kinda bummed that the only thing left for you to do is cuddle and sleep. But that is until you both finally decide to break the bounds.
—A/N: i'm not even lying when i say i cried while writing this. bruh 'i' became the one being emotionally overwhelmed but thas possibly jus my weak heart. but yeah, this one piece will always stay close to my heart bc it's just. so intense. and i loved my writing in this lmao. so now i leave it to u guys for yall to decide. pls feel free to share your views <33 its a part of my 50 Shades of Bangtan series but you can read this part singly since the parts are unrelated. i hope you enjoy!!💖💖 (also, i didn't almost write taehyung at one point instead of jeongguk. nope. definitely not.)
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A mug of coffee in one hand and Jeongguk’s hand interlocked with the other, both of you cuddling and catching up on a series… well– mainly cuddling. You truly couldn’t ask for anything better than this on a Friday night.
Jeongguk has been your boyfriend only for a few months right now, but it feels like you’ve known him forever. He has opened up with you so quickly, likewise you’ve shared your secrets with him already too.
Lately, you’ve grown even closer, as you’d let him stay the night at your place, in your bed, and he would let you stay the night in his dorm, in his bed.
And this is just another night when he comes over, to ‘make your time golden’, he’d said, but you both know better. To just be in your presence, being in your calm after another hectic week.
“Wh-what the hell happened?!” you shriek all of a sudden when all lights are gone out.
Jeongguk is still with you, so it couldn’t be one of his silly pranks either, as you remember the one time you enter his and the guys’ dorm after having a call with Jeongguk and expecting them there, only to be met with a dark apartment and getting the jump scare of your life.
He grabs his phone, the light being too strong for your eyes causing the both of you to flinch momentarily. He’s dialling the number of the electricity guys before you get up, turning to get to the kitchen to keep your mugs. The moonlight peeking through the glass door to the balcony just allowed enough light for you to walk around.
“They’re saying it’s a blackout,” Jeongguk voices in the dark, staring at your dark shadows contrasting against the light.
You let out a huff, neither disappointed, nor pleased. Just, surprised. “Do they know when it’s gonna come back?
“Not before morning,” he answers, holding the edge of the kitchen island as he partially leans his weight onto his tattooed arm.
“Do they know we don’t really need lights in the daytime but do at this time?” you amuse.
“Considering the fact that it’s uhh…” he trails off as he takes out his cell from his pocket, clicking the button and glaring at the bright screen, “2:04 in the morning, when everyone’s asleep, I think they’re valid for considering no one needs light right now either.”
“People go to bathrooms. People can literally die in bathrooms,” you counter with a wider grin and big eyes.
At that, Jeongguk doesn’t really have anything to say, so he lets out a chuckle, proud of his smart girlfriend. “Alright, let’s move to the bedroom? We don’t have anything else to do anyway.”
True that. There’s a blackout– no electricity. You can’t afford to drain the battery of your cells, you’ve got to keep them alive for important things. Plus you both are kind of tired yourselves anyway. So it’s safe to conclude that there was no point for you two to do anything but retire to your bedroom.
“Okay but I’m not going without the candles. So help me out here,” you order before turning to the drawer at the end of the counter, the one that held all your candles for emergencies like these.
Soon you and Jeongguk enter your bedroom, lighting up all the candles and putting them on all the shelves and cabinets, enough for the room to be seen, yet not too bright to not be able to sleep. Jeongguk is lighting up the candles when you take a look at him– his face looks like it’s glowing with the candle light hitting all the right places on his face, his eyebrow piercing shining, the flame visible in his eyes as he concentrates on it, observing melting wax crawling up the wick and giving itself in flames.
Before he can notice, however, you move to your closet to take out the scented candles. You’ve always had a thing for scented candles– when the candle smells good, it automatically changes your mood to a good one, fixes all your problems, sorts all your fights, gets all your work done, and suddenly, you’re not dealing with stress anymore. And with Jeongguk staying the night, better yet, sleeping in your bed tonight, you partially wanted to light those mixed scents of lemongrass, sandalwood and jasmine to have a little ‘comfort’.
“Why more?” Jeongguk inquires as you keep the glass containers on the mantle against the front wall, lighting them up.
“These are the scented ones,” you answer, and that’s enough for him. He’s already aware about your obsession with those scented ones.
The next thing, you and Jeongguk are crawling together in your bed, him pulling you close with an arm while his other pulls the comforter over your legs, your other hand aiding him too.
You both sit in the comfortable silence, not finding any need to say something. Sometimes you just like being in each other’s presence and the only sounds that can be heard is of your calm breaths. Breathe.
But on the other hand you can’t stop averting your gaze to Jeongguk every two seconds. His face is exquisite, he’s beautiful. His doe eyes, his sharp jawline, the round of his nose, the way his lips move when he speaks, and that goddamn mole– that stupid mole that has looked totally kissable to you ever since you saw him for the first time in that French restaurant.
And you wonder if he’s the right guy, if he’s everything you’ve been looking for, if he’s–
“What was that for?” Jeongguk asks, flinching from the kiss you placed on his lips while you were still immersed in your thoughts.
“I, uh… you, an-”
And then Jeongguk’s lips on yours shut you up.
You both don’t move your lips at first, possibly both of you testing the waters, but when you finally know that this is something real, you waste no time in lessening the space between the two of you, crawling your hand to the back of his neck while your other finds ground on his chest. His hands move to your hips, not wanting to cross any unsaid boundaries. The kiss grows needier, both of your tongues interacting with the other’s, pouring your desires in the action.
“You can even go further,” you breathe out, breaking the intense kiss for just a moment.
But then he stops, to look at you, eyes searching your face. For a moment you think that it was a huge mistake, maybe he’s not there yet, maybe you’re not supposed to be there yet. But when you hear his request of ‘are you sure’ and nod your head and whisper a ‘yes’, you are convinced that it’s meant to be.
Jeongguk , though, is still a little unsure. He wants it, fuck he does. It’s you, afterall. But how does he go about it? What do you like? What do you not like? Who takes the lead?
But as if you read his mind, you take his hand in yours and keep it on your breast, squeezing his hand below yours to ease him a little. Boobs. He’s already at ease.
Though deeper than that, when he finally realises that it’s you, it’s intense, it’s happening, all connections in his brain short-circuit, letting him know that it’s all about the flow. He doesn’t need to worry. He’s here, You’re here. And so is the rest of the night.
His other hand travels to your back, snaking it inside your shirt and making contact with the soft skin of your back, eliciting a moan out of you. His breath fans your face, his hands on your body and the kiss growing more and more heated elicits a slight moan out of you, slowly getting turned on as you anticipate what’s to come.
When Jeongguk doesn’t find you complaining over how his hands are roaming all over your body, over or under your fabrics, he finds it safe to take your top off. And the sight in front of him is enough to send him on cloud nine.
You’re there in front of him, topless, white lace covering the swell of your flesh, decorating your body, a sight for Jeongguk to love. To find way better than any of his own paintings or M.F. Hussain’s.
You know what happened when he sees you with those doe eyes and mouth agape, frozen as if playing freeze tag. But you still decide to tease him, partly to relieve your own nervousness.
“What happened, Gukie?” you coquet, your fingers tracing your collarbones and the area beneath that, pushing your breasts outward.
He blinks. Once. Twice. And then he swiftly moves to hug your body, his big arms wrapped around your middle and fingers fiddling with the hook of your bra. He’s eagerly leaving wet kisses on the exposed skin, and soon, the lace is slipping off your body. And he can live in the moment forever.
He instantly attaches his mouth to your nipple, other attended by his fingers, causing you to throw your head back in air as you hold his neck. You panties are getting wetter and wetter, you’ve never felt a deeper desire.
“Jeongguk,” you moan, a proof for him to believe that you like it, and he’s doing fine. But that doesn’t help his growing member at all, already so hard and begging for attention. He is so turned on, and he blames you for it.
He stops for a short moment to take his shirt off, the material clinging to him with the heat. But when he does, oh wow, and proceeds to continue his ministrations on you again, he’s pushed by you before he realises it, making him lie down on his back.
You straddle him, leaving open-mouthed kisses on his body, admiring the beautifully sculpted golden chest, admiring every centimeter of flesh with your lips and fingertips. You rub your covered core over his covered dick, both moaning at the pleasurable contact. His hands travel along your sides, and you instantly crawl back up to kiss him. He finds your boobs and pinches the brown tip, you moaning in the kiss which he gladly swallows, which also causes his dick to twitch. He is so turned on he could come right there.
You move to his neck, kissing the veins covered with flesh before gently tugging at it with your teeth. You’re not sure if he is into marking, but you want to mark him so bad. Want the world to see who he belongs with.
“Oh I’m sure you can do darker than that,” he says breathily, and as if on cue you instantly bite him to leave a mark. He’s yours.
He groans your name, his hands moving to your ass. He kneads the flesh under his palms, jiggling them. You whimper at the touch, every step taken arousing you more and more.
It’s Jeongguk. Your love. Your lover. Your mans, as he likes to call it. This was your first time with him, but it felt like you’ve known his body forever. You’ve known him forever. Everything was so easy with him, even when it came to sex. It doesn’t mean you weren’t freaking out about the way his hands slide under your shorts and panties and so easily takes them off, or about the way his palms felt warm against your skin. But you were euphoric, on a drug, only being on the best kind of drug, better than any lucid dreams you could’ve imagined. You were there, on top of him, soon to be under him, and everything will be alright.
And then he does finally turn you over to land on your back, his tall body hovering over you. He looks at you with hungry eyes, the fire that you saw earlier as a reflection now fiercer, a reflection of you.
“You’re so beautiful, _____, so, so beautiful,” he says in a hoarse voice, throat dry from all the nervousness. When you suddenly feel shy, he is quick to bend down and kiss your neck before you can hide yourself in your cocoon.
Just the way you marked him a while ago, he marks you as his. Once, twice, thrice, and he doesn’t want to stop. You’re his.
Only that he does, when he feels your shaky hands at the skin of his abdomen underneath the hem of his sweats. And god do they turn even shakier when you feel his big bulge, hard, throbbing, searching for release and you feel Jeongguk slightly bucking in your hands. Just with a touch of your hand, you feel so good that he’s growing so desperate. He needs you so bad, he needs you now.
He pulls his sweats down, freeing his hard member from the constraint, and your eyes widen. His dick is huge, but it is pretty. It is hard, red, throbbing, leaking with precum, but you’re in love with it. It’s Jeongguk, there in front of you, all naked in your bed.
He leaves sweet kisses all over your front, taking your hand and trailing an ivy of kisses all the way from your shoulder to your elbow, and kisses you sweetly a bunch of times on the back of your palms, fingers; his eyes deep into yours. That makes you clench around nothing, eyes pricking with tears.
He crawls further to align his face with your pussy, and when his tongue makes contact with your heat, you arch your back incredibly, letting out a loud moan forming in the back of your throat. He smirks, and you can feel it, though you're too gone to care when his tongue swirls in and around your pussy. He’s so close, he feels as though he’ll burst and might not make it with you, but he is determined to make you feel good. Hear you moan for him. Hear you beg for him. Have all of you to himself.
“Jeongguk, please,” you draw out the last syllable, moaning. Because as much as you love the sight of his eyes looking at you from between your breasts and half of his face dipping into your core, you don’t want this right now. You want to feel him close, you want to feel all of him. You want to feel him inside you.
“What baby,” he mocks, knowing very well what you mean but still determined to please you with his mouth for he’s scared he might not last that long.
“Jeongguk I need you inside me, please,” you cry for him, the relief between your legs both pleasurable and aching.
“But I-”
“I don’t care, Gukie, I just want you inside me, right now,” you breathe out, enough for him to understand you and be convinced.
You instantly crawl to the bedside table, pulling the drawer out sharply and fumbling a condom out of the packed box. Your shaky hands only make the process clumsier and longer, and you hear him chuckling in the background.
“Don’t,” you warm, breathing heavily when you finally pull one out, throwing the foil packet to him.
With the smirk still prevalent on his face, he tugs at the foil with his teeth, spitting the torn foil on the floor. And that sight alone makes you almost come undone. That was so fucking hot, you think.
While tugging the condom along his length, he ponders, “these condoms… did you-”
“I brought them after the last time you stayed, don’t worry,” you assure him.
The last time he stayed, a smile on his face. When you both were being way too touchy and obvious, but neither was able to make the first move, nor able to read the other person, still unsure of where the other person stands in your relationship right now. But you felt that it’s time you at least buy a packet for safety purposes, for the ‘what ifs’ running in your head for Jeongguk staying over the next time. Good thing you did that.
Rubbing the latex covered dick along your wetness for lubrication, “_____, are you sure you want this? With me?” he asks for confirmation one last time.
“Yes, Jeongguk, yes, I’m sure, I trust you,” you breathe out, your heart blooming with emotions just with the simple gesture of him remembering to ask you one last time even in such a heated moment.
With no further delay, he enters inside your weeping hole, slowly making his way inside you. Your mouth is wide open, a moan making its way out. Jeongguk is big– blessed in length and girth, and you wonder if you’ll be able to make it to the end without being split in half.
“You good baby?” he whispers, looking at your face, searching your eyes.
“Yeah, keep going,” you respond.
And so he does, bottoming out and reaching your cervix, both moaning when his tip hits your back. He gives you sometime to adjust, also himself so he doesn’t come undone right there. And then after a moment or two of heavy breaths, he finally moves, slowly dragging out of you and pushing back inside you again. You both moan at the pleasure, the feeling of him so, so close to you causing an ache in your heart, but the best kind of ache.
He finds ground on his forearms, resting the either side of your body and your hands find their way to his back, gripping at the flesh with your palms.
He’s going agonisingly slow. Ironic, considering that it’s his first time with you. But also, understandable. He doesn’t want this to end, he doesn’t want this to stop. He has desired this for so long, the deepest desire you’ve shared with him. And now he’s finally in the moment. The feel of your soft skin against his, every light brush of your fingertips, the exhale of your breath contrasting against the sweaty heat on his shoulders, the scent of your hair, you velvety walls every-so-often clenching around him, sending him over the edge– causing him to take a moment to slow down and come down before moving again–, your neck covered in all the marks and bruises he gave. Your body is covered in a sheen of sweat under him, the candles doing a great job at pleasing his olfactory senses and lighting your body, the hues and contrast of your skin enough for him to be inspired for his next painting. No, he doesn’t want this to end, he doesn’t want his first time with you to end.
And likewise, you can’t stop moaning. There is a knot in your stomach, yes, but there’s an even stronger ache in your heart. The ache of finally, finally having him so close to you, feeling his thick length inside your walls, his tip touching your sweet, sweet spot again and again, feeling his arms snake around your back and all over your body, his mouth on your lips, your neck, your breasts. Beads of sweat forming on his face, shining against the bright candles, his face glowing with a spark only meant for you. You don’t want this feeling to go; even if it isn’t the last time, you know it will be the only time as your first time.
You’ve both shared this deepest desire for too long, much longer than you’d like, and now you can’t help yourselves as you burn yourselves in the flames of your love.
His eyes meet yours, and the look in them is enough for you to understand that he’s begging you to keep it. And so you do. You moan in response when he lets out a deep guttural groan, briefly throwing his head back in the air and you keep it locked in your head, your favorite sight ever.
His hands travel to your knees, crawling all the way up your thighs to your hips. And as if hooked, you move your legs along the touch of his hand, stopping them to hook them along his side, trying your best to not hook them all around him in your desperation.
When he finally turns a little vigorous, you can’t stop moaning. You're moaning, crying, whimpering his name, and despite trying your best, you find your nails scratching his back. You know it pains him, you know it might bleed. But the fact that it will mark him as your again only turns you on more, and apparently turns him on more too, for he doesn’t seem to complain.
“I can’t hold any longer, baby– fuck– I’m gonna come soon,” Jeongguk moans, and your shut your eyes, pulling him closer to you. At this point, you don’t care about the eye contact, your eyes are forming tears, blurring your vision anyway.
“I’m there... Imma come soon,” you whimper out, breathing in his scent as you nuzzle your face in the junction of his neck and shoulder.
He nibbles at your earlobe, and his promising whispers of ‘I love yous’ send you into emotional overwhelm, and let the string snap, causing your eyes to convert into a broken dam of tears, the salt and water trailing down your cheeks.
“Guk I’m coming…” is the last warning you can give before you chase your high and convulse around him like crazy.
His stuttering pace tells you that he’s almost there, and when he hears your moans and feels your walls clenching him, he comes undone with a loud, throaty groan of your name, spilling inside the condom.
His body slumps over yours after he pulls out, you both lay there in a sweaty mess, panting heavily. After a moment of being able to collect himself, he props himself again on his forearms, looking at you with soft, loving eyes. And he sees your crying state, unable to stop the stream of tears while you’re not actually crying at this point.
When his eyes widen, thinking of all the things he could’ve done to make you cry, you speak in a shaky voice, wanting to erase his doubts away, “I’m just overwhelmed,” you sniff, wiping your tears away, “I love you so much, Jeon Jeongguk.”
He swears he could feel his heart doing somersaults at your confession, getting an even higher dose of oxytocin than he did in the past 45 minutes.
Using his fingers to take the lose strands of hair falling over your face and tucking them behind your ear, he places a lingering kiss to your forehead, shushing you down.
“I love you so much too, _____ _____.”
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a/n: *shambles* lmk what you think🥲🥲
469 notes · View notes
kookiecrumb · 2 days ago
jjk || Miracleworker
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wc: 1.8K
summary: You're too obvious about your obsession with Jungkook. He could teach you a thing or two, and he does.
tags: yandere!jk x fem!yandere!reader, virgin!reader, hardcore smut, pwp, ftl, classmates au, smut (18+)
warnings: breeding kink, spit kink, breastplay, fingering, unprotected sex*(please be safe, use a condom), explicit language (words such as wh*re, sl*t), heavy dirty talk, praise kink, begging, brief restraint, macrophilia, dick bulge lol, rough sex, mention of m&f masturbation, bigdick!jk
a/n: my friend @koodak is the devil, i am sure.
You had too much time to daydream during class. Assignments were pointless, lectures were boring, and material was just recycled from last year. It didn't matter to you. You got the work done, regardless, early.
Completely uninvolved with the outside world, your imagination grew beyond simple daydreaming. You fostered entire worlds, fantasies, visions of the most indulgent nature-- the subject of which was none other than your innocent classmate.
Well-- innocent was a reach. He's devastatingly beautiful. It was specific to him. He carried himself with a confidence that was hard to ignore, his nose twitched every time he found something particularly funny. He seldom participated in class or any group activities, opting to work by himself, instead. He was addictive to stare at, a tall glass of water, and you were a thirsty girl.
You swore you'd catch him looking back sometimes, with a tiny smirk that disappeared the second it appeared on his face. He would shoot you a confused, slightly annoyed glare whenever you stared too long.
In reality his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but in your twisted little mind, you dreamed about the way they would look knitting into one another with sweat dripping from his forehead while his hips snapped up to abuse your hungry cervix.
Truthfully, he was a master of delusion. Creating the illusion that he was never and would never be interested in you. Of course it was a guise. It was a game he played with you.
In fact, he'd come home every night and pull his cock out, touch himself to the thought of you sitting on his face. He'd stroke himself to mimic your tightness, using his own saliva as lube imagining your squelching cunt clenching around his fat cock in long, thorough strokes. He just wasn't an amateur, unlike you. So cute. You thought you could hide your little thing from him.
He knew you, Y/N. No use in hiding, no use in playing it off. He just liked watching you, in every possible sense. The way you bit your pens when you were concentrating on your work, the way you crossed your legs whenever you looked over at him.
He desperately wanted to kiss the lips that kissed your coffee cups…to fuck the pussy that hid beneath that sad excuse for a school skirt. He could rip it off of you, and leave the flimsy fabric torn, discarded on his bedroom floor. That's not a threat, it's a promise.
You were so smart. He ogled over how smart you were, always finishing before everyone else so that you could sit back and relax.
He knew it was only a matter of time before he'd get his hands on you. Tonight he does, and it's everything you'd both imagined and more.
"You stare at me in math class. You keep looking over at me like I don't know from those gaping eyes what you think about, when your legs are pressing against one another trying to focus on that you even remember what she was teaching that day or do you just remember the pants that I was wearing?"
"What color were they, y/n?" He yanks your restraints towards his face so that your eyes meet his, his leering face inches away from yours.
"Slut. Fucking whore. Is all you think about me screwing you, is all you think about me throwing you around and stretching your cunt with my massive cock?"
"You're going to fucking answer me, little cockslut," his thumb sinks into your mouth, pressing into your tongue, your breath quivering with excitement.
"Yes, fuck~ that's all...that's what I think about, it's all I think about," you cry, and you feel his hands smooth their way to your little red lace panties and tug the material out.
"Red," he pushes you back on to the bed and breaks out into a devilish smile."My favorite color, and you knew that because I said it when we first introduced ourselves to the class, icebreakers."
"You little fuck."
"Feel a man's pulse from his cock under you, grinding and rubbing on that cunt while I suck on your fucking tits," His hands travel upwards and, between his two fingers, he pinches the nubs lightly. "Cute."
Nothing can conceal his desire, lust, playfulness, curiosity and primal need.You shiver. His lips wrap around the bud, his left hand tending to the other as he kisses on it roughly, messily taking it between his teeth and sucking roughly.
His head between your breasts, he stares up at you with those innocently deadly eyes, and you drink in the sight."There's a cure for girls who can't stop staring at men's cocks in public."
"My mouth can do miracles, cockslut."
"Cum, shaking for it, screaming from it alone and I will...but I can't ignore the fact that when you masturbate,"
"When you fill up that little pussy of yours with your hungry fingers,"
"You scream from just the thought of having my dick inside of you." An overwhelming hunger overcomes him, manifesting in need to fill you with his seed.
"This dick," Jungkook places his inked hand over his bulge, playing with his as if it's nothing at all. He strokes it through his clothes, hissing and bucking into his palm, his jaw slacking into a sloppy smile.
"This monster of a cock is going to fill you with my fucking kids,"
"And they'll talk. Trust me, knowing my friends and their friends, they'll talk about how you're carrying my baby as a senior,"
"I need to fuck it into you first, right?" He chuckles."Take all your clothes off, it's annoying me."
You strip frantically, unable to ignore how gushy you were from just the way he talked about handling your body--His thumb splits your labia. A thick, delicious trail of your arousal stretches out, cloudy white. He sucks the side of his thumb where you're connected.
He tugs his pants down, the prettiest cock you've ever seen springs out, causing you to drool out of the corner of your lips.
"Where's your lube?" He gets the hair out of his bare face. His lips are perfect, his skin glows in the most natural way, his ears are pierced and his hair flows which ever way his hands part it. God of a man.
"I...don't need it, they usually...I don't usually..." you try to find the words to say that you're basically a virgin.
"Shit, no way. You've...oh, fuck..." his dick twitches at the thought that he'd be breaking you in.
"No way," he says, like a dumbass.
"'s really not like that, I just haven't wanted anyone like I've wanted you," you rasp. He'll do it just right. After all, he is meant for you. Jungkook cups his cock in his hand, holding it to spit lube on to his length, hissing at the cool feeling.
"I'm gonna spit on you, but don't look like you need it," he warns, his thumb playing with the swollen nub above your u-spot."Getting all over yourself here…"He's distracted. Of course he is. He thought that you'd be the one staring at him all night but he's now fascinated by your body and all the different colors and oh my fucking God it's the hottest thing.
You whine, jolting at his fingers poking around."Mmn! Stop it, get inside me!!"
He gives you a surprised look."Impatient brat." He throws you around the bed, hooking you around his hips before laying down a lous smack on your ass, stinging your skin and causing you to bite down hard on your lip."You will fucking obey me. You'll listen to me, you'll comply to my every command of you and you're going to be fucking quiet and patient as I prep you."
How could you fucking be quiet when the man of your fantasies is splitting your thighs open, growling in your ear about to fuck his hot cum into your cervix. Yes, yes, fuck! Your body worships him, his body worships you in such a wonderful way, he's all yours!
You felt his hand over your ass and gasped. "Ohhh...oh my God, Kookie, your hands are on me…"That's when you feel his tip graze your lower lips, and you tense, registering the feeling of him."Ahhh...fuck, fuckkk...oh please, fuck me Jungkook fuck me~" you lean on his chest, your mouth finding purchase on his chest and sucking a deep mark on him, claiming him selfishly
His thighs spread a little wider, his hands grip you harder as he kneads your ass, picking up a coarse rhythm for you to feel every inch of that shaft, coat him with your juicy cunt...He gasps, the baritone voice wavering in your ear; his tip kisses your clit.
"Fuck, fuck...oh fuck," you whine, holding on to his back and scratching it up, clenching for him. He feels it, guiding you back down so that you can feel the stretch of his head for the very first time.
"When you look at it in class again? Remember that it fucked you like this." He speared you, your walls thrashing to welcome his dick with an intense friction. He was hot, he was heating up, swallowing his spit. He turned his head down and let a fat glob of his saliva fall to where you both bonded.
"It's big, yeah?" He moved his hips in small circles to help you get used to the sheer girth of him.
"You can take it though," he hisses.
He tosses you, brings your knees to his shoulders and shallowly thrusts, experimentally until he feels you take him a little easier "That's good, that..." he pants, his eyes meet yours.
"Juhn...mnh...mmfuck feels so good, cock~"
His hand holds your jaw agape, your lips cutely pouting into a receptive position as a bead of his spit lands on your tongue.
He smiles. He's breathing hard, his hands beneath your thighs as he sucks at the skin under your jaw, causing your mind to dizzy. "Ahhh~" you whine sharply.
"When I fuck this baby into you, you're going to get pregnant with my fucking kid, you'll be mine forever," he hums as he's smacking his dick into your squelching heat.
"You're gonna take this cum like a fucking streetwhore, I'm going to fill you with my seed and you'll carry my fucking kid, that's my fucking cum filling your cunt," he growls.
"Of course I'd be the best father, too...after all, they'll be ours,"
He leads your hands down to where you feel his dick bulging through your abdomen, his adamant thrusts yielding the sweetest sounds from your aching body. All you can do is scream.
He pacifies you, providing his thumb for you to desperately suck on as his meticulous thrusts spur on your fast-approaching orgasm.
It overflows before you can stop yourself, and you're convulsing around his cock wildly, holding on to his form as he guides your hips back down so he can paint your walls with his hot cum.
It's sticky, warm, but it feels so full, your heart is fluttering. It's unlike anything you've ever felt.
"That's a good girl," he hums. He kisses you, his hands resting around your body.
You're a good girl.
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bonny-kookoo · 2 days ago
𝕯𝖎𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝕯𝖊𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖘 🔞
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D/S ▪︎ Demon!Kook ▪︎ slight comedy ▪︎ PWP ▪︎ Cunnilingus ▪︎ Overstimulation
"What the hell are you doing in my kitchen?!" You yell out at the man sitting on your counter, next to the boiling pot. "You summoned me." He simply answers, cocking his head a little in a motion that almost seems innocent. "I was trying to cook- not summon a demon!" You yell out, frustrated- and he can't help but smirk. "Well- I'll be having dinner either way."
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Your grandma sure used weird ingredients.
But then again, she'd passed away in a different time- and you were no one to judge. With the memory of her cooking in mind, and in desperate need of a pick-me-up, you'd started to read through the worn down book in hopes of finding something that was easy enough for you to recreate. You're not that good at cooking- you know how to make instant ramen and how to open any wine bottle using the kitchen utensils you got, but that's about it for you. Your mother had always scolded you for that.
'You'll never find a man like that!' She'd shout at you with a shake of her head, while you'd scarf down your instant meal.
But things are different now. You're an adult, you live alone, and you have no one to do the home-cooking any more than yourself. The problem is, that you're just… Not talented in cooking at all. Even the most detailed tutorial on the World Wide Web can't help you, it seems- something always goes wrong, as if you're just followed by bad luck. It frustrates you constantly, even led you to take cooking classes at some point.
But it was nothing but wasted money.
It'd quite sad really. Maybe your mom was right when she said you'd stay lonely without 'womanly qualities' like that- but oh well what did she know. With four divorces under her belt, she certainly was one to talk.
The pot on the stove suddenly begins to sizzle, before you notice it's overflowing- weird smoke coming from it as it suddenly blinds you like a flashbang, making you fall onto your butt on the tiled floor of your kitchen. When you open your eyes, you're not alone anymore- a man sitting on your counter dressed in black, crimson eyes watching as you hassle to grab the next best thing for your self defense; a whisk, in this case. "What the hell are you doing in my kitchen?!" You yell out at the man sitting next to the boiling pot.
"You summoned me." He simply answers, coking his head a little in a motion that almost seems innocent.
"I was trying to cook- not summon a demon!" You yell out, frustrated- and he can't help but smirk.
"Well- I'll be having dinner either way." He says, and you furrow your brow.
"I'm not giving you my soul." You warn, and he chuckles before shaking his head, arms crossed in front of him.
"Dont want it anyway." He says, and you feel a little oddly offended. Your soul was totally fine- a bit tainted maybe, but still fine. "I can see you're not up for a contract." He shrugs, and you shake your head.
"I'm absolutely not." You agree, and he smiles.
"Considering your rather sour mood-" he starts, before he leans over to turn off the stove. "I can think of something that's benefitting both of us." You look at him, unsure what he means, before he leans back a little- crimson eyes looking at your chest before he bites his lip in amusement. It's only then that you notice the buttons of your shirt slipping open, before you instantly reach to cover yourself. "Aw come on-" He complains, but doesn't interfere.
"This is a dream right?" You ask hesitantly, before he shrugs as an answer.
"If it makes you feel better about it, sure."He says. "Now come here, I'm not wasting a pretty thing like you." He mumbles, before he jumps down from the counter, caging you in instead before he helps you sit on the table behind you. "Lets hope that flimsy thing holds together." He hums lowly with hooded eyes. From the proximity, you can see that his pupils aren't really round like yours, but rather cat like. And before you can even think about his lips, they're on you, practically devouring you as his tongue slips in. You've always daydreamed about being kissed like that- it's sad that its happening in dreams still.
"What a shame." He breathes out between his antics. "No one's ever quite taken you the way someone like you should be." He says, almost annoyed as you gasp out when his hand finds your core between your legs, heel of his palm pressed against you. "Humans are so wasteful." He mumbles.
You think to yourself how you want someone to talk this highly of you in real life as well. He uses words that makes you feel cherished and special.
"Hm, that you are." He chuckles, watching you with amusement as your eyes widen. "Reading your thoughts is an easy task, pretty thing." He explains, as you roll your hips a bit. "You deserve to be feasted on every night." He growls, other hand slipping onto the cup of your bra as he plays with your breast, making you arch your back. "You need someone to take you right." He says, before he chuckles, as his hand unbottons your jeans, sliding them down until they're at your ankles while he undoes his own pants as well. "Too bad I'm going to fuck you in ways no one will ever be able to." He tells you, before you feel his hot length at your entrance.
"Look at you."He coos, eyes intently watching the way he runs the head of his cock through your by now soaked folds. He's honest when he says you're something special- he'd been following you around for a few years now, seeing you go about your day and basically watching over you as part of his contract with your grandmother. He's supposed to stay out of sight however- but oh well.
Demons rarely ever play by the rules.
And how can he if you look so delicious like that? A five star meal, ready to be tasted, and he licks his lips before he does just that- pulling a chair before sitting on it, grinning in amusement at your scandalized look, before your head falls back as he starts to eat you out. His tongue is nothing but sin- drawing patterns and swirling lines making you feel almost dizzy, before he flicks his wet muscle over your clit, your hips starting to jolt. His hand assists him further down the line, fingers entering and stretching you out, teasingly prodding at your most sensitive spot deep inside, never bringing you over the edge however.
It frustrates you a little, but oh God does it feel good.
"Dont you dare think of that cunt when I'm down here eating yours." He grits out at that thought of yours, detaching himself as his hand slaps your soaked center. Not too hard- but nowhere near gentle either. He gets up, chair falling over behind him as he readies himself to slip inside you. It's such a perfect fit, he thinks, while smiling at your thoughts turning fuzzy, clouded. "You're such a sweet thing aren't you." He jokes around teasingly, starting to thrust.
You're a whining mess as soon as he picks up his pace, hand reaching out to move over stomach, ribs, playfully slapping your breast before his fingers run up your throat. Your mouth opens almost on instinct, making his gaze focus on the sight of his fingers pushing down your tongue, obscene noises escaping you without shame. And still, you manage to sound so sickeningly sweet.
He can't stop himself.
His hands push your legs towards you, opening you up further so he can reach even deeper. The kitchen is filled with the sound of skin against skin, his grunts and huffs, and your whines and whimpers. They turn higher in pitch as you suddenly arch your back, orgasm hitting you full force-
But he doesn't stop.
He almost thinks it's funny; the way you start to squirm and shake as he pushes you through your moment of oversensitivity, straight up leading you into another orgasm right away; release staining his thighs and probably running his pants in the process as he groans out, pushing into you in desperation as he spills his seed- hot cum painting your insides while he keeps his head in the crook of your neck, breathing heavily alongside you.
When you open your eyes, you're in your bed, room dark and silent as you sit up. This was one of the weirdest and yet clearest dreams of all time, you think to yourself as you spot your grandmother's cookbook on the bedside table. You turn around and close your eyes, unaware of the man standing in the corner of your room;
Making sure you're asleep, before he vanishes into the shadows again.
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heyitsmehaneul · 2 days ago
Damn, The Delivery Boy
Angel In The Darkness
Hands On Learning
When Opposites Attract
I Don’t Like A Gold Rush
The Sadness Of Things
Naughty Pictures
Tastes So Good
Drown In Your Body
Navy Blue
The Habits Of A Broken Heart
How Can I Help You Sir?
You Belong With Me
Soaked N’ Slipped
The Art Of Boxing
Too Much, Too Little
The Present
Crescent Bound
Piss Off Your Parents
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sparklingchim · 2 days ago
long way home 02 | jjk
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pairing: jungkook x reader
word count: 1.7k
genre: dilf!jungkook, friends to lovers
rating: pg
warnings: some mutual jealousy 🤨, hickeys, unpunctuality 😩, mentions of hooking up
summary: the one were jungkook breaks his promise for the first time.
a/n: posting part 2 after a little more than a week?? who is she???
Your night was supposed to end up with finding someone nice at a club and going home with him.
Well, that's what Jimin and Seulgi forced you to do because you hadn't gone out since your last boyfriend. You gave in, maybe because you found it cute that they were so concerned about you and maybe because you partially believed that they were right - you should go out again and have fun. And while getting ready to get picked up by Jimin you even found yourself getting excited about spending the night out with friends again.
Anyways, your plan for the night got chucked in the bin when Jungkook gave you a phone call.
He asked if you could watch Nabi for the night. And you said yes because that's just what you do - being there for him whenever he needs you.
So that's why you're opening your front door with the shortest black dress that you own and with heels that you haven't had time to take of yet. When Jungkook arrives at your door he halts midst his movement and stares you up and down for a solid ten seconds before looking into your eyes.
"Were you planning to go out?"
"Sort of." You take the bag filled with Nabi's stuff from Jungkook's hand after he shakes it off his shoulder.
Gazing at your glossy painted lips he asks, "With whom?"
"Seulgi and Jimin." You stretch your arms to take Nabi from Jungkook but he doesn't make an attempt to give her to you.
"Jimin?" he asks, like he's never heard that name before which is stupid because Jungkook knows that he's one of your co-workers at the coffee shop. "I didn't know you were that close."
"Yesterday Seulgi stopped by and went on and off about how I should start clubbing with her again and then she saw Jimin and invited him as well. So, yeah, we aren't that close but he's nice and fun to be around." You shrug, not getting what the fuss was about.
"Oh." Jungkook realises that he unintentionally ruined your plans for the weekend and regretted asking you if you could babysit Nabi. You had already watched her this afternoon when he went to work and gave a few boxing classes. Though he can't shake the thought off that Jimin was also involved in your plans.
"Where are you taking her?" you ask.
Jungkook needs a second to grasp that you're talking about his date. "Cinema. She wanted to watch a movie." He carefully transfers Nabi in your arms. She immediately grabs a fistful of your hair and beams at you as you hold her against you.
"Hi, baby," you coo, chucking Nabi under her chin.
"I feel bad for ruining your plans for the night, y/n," Jungkook says.
You don't look at him when you answer, your eyes not able to look away from Nabi's elated face. "It's nothing. I'll just postpone it to tomorrow."
"I'll be back in probably two hours. Just text them that you'll come a little later than planned, okay?"
Now you tear your gaze up to him. "I can go tomorrow, Koo. You don't have to rush your date because of me."
"I'm back in two hours. I promise," he just says, ignoring your words. He presses a kiss on Nabi's forehead and you really try to ignore the whiff of cologne that comes with his proximity. "I already fed her, she'll probably doze off soon."
When he looks at you after he kisses Nabi his face is close to yours and for a mere second your gaze jumps to Jungkook's mouth. You swallow. They look so soft. And then he comes a little closer and soon you feel his tender lips on your temple, lingering there for probably longer than intended.
"Thanks for doing this. There's no one else quite like you, y/n."
With your heartbeat thundering in your chest you watch him close the door behind him.
Jungkook is a man of his word.
He truly is, never has you doubting anything that comes from his mouth.
He once said he'll pick you up from the train station right after his shift - which was mathematically almost impossible - but he said he could make it and in the end he did make it. He told you one random night in high-school that he'll always be the one picking you up at any party when you want to get home -  and up till now, he always did, no matter at what ungodly hour it was, he was always there. He made a bet with you and promised to buy you ten packages of the stupid cookies from the grocery store - he had bought them, reluctantly, but he did.
However, right now it's the first time that Jungkook is breaking one of his promises.
After two hours had passed you were expecting Jungkook to ring your bell at any time. Your eyes constantly flicked to the door while you were sitting on the couch, a fluffy blanket thrown over you because you didn't bother to get out of your flimsy dress.
But it's been over an hour now and honestly, you don't expect Jungkook to come back anymore. He's never been like this. He always picked up Nabi at the exact time he told you he would - would even be too early at picking her up.
You hear Nabi whining a little in your bedroom. She was fussy the whole night and needed longer to fall asleep than usually. You get up and walk into your bedroom. Nabi is surrounded by lots of pillows to keep her from rolling of the bed. Her pacifier has magically disappeared and she's sucking on her little thumb. Her whines immediately stop when she notices you and you sigh because she's barely five months old and already knows her ways through life.
Weirdly, she's looking up at you with big, bright eyes and there's no trace of sleepiness left behind even though she didn't get much sleep.
"Want to accompany me while I'm waiting for you dada?" She gurgles and you take that as a yes.
Back in the living room you get under the blanket with Nabi on your lap.
"You think you're dad ran off with his new girl and left you and me alone?" you mutter, brushing your fingers through her thin strands of hair. She smiles like she's amused by that idea.
"Nabi, I really love you but you know what I'd love even more right now? Drowning myself in alcohol. You're dad is really testing my patience right now."
You can't help but slowly start feeling like Jungkook just used you to get rid of his dad duties and to have his fun tonight - which, there's obviously nothing wrong with wanting to have a little free time after all the months of raising a baby, but still, why isn't he answering his phone? Why isn't he available right now? You're not Nabi's mother, you're not responsible for her and Jungkook dropping her of at you place to have fun with this girl he just recently met and ignoring you for the past hour is making your stomach twist in an unpleasant way that you feel really bad for feeling, but it's there and you can't ignore it.
You call him but he doesn't answer. It's the third time you've tried to call him.
It's only about an hour later after you tried to entertain Nabi and yourself with blasting Baby Shark through your apartment and encouraging her to scream and babble the lyrics along with it and probably annoying the hell out of your neighbours - but honestly, hearing children's songs coming from your apartment isn't anything new so they're maybe used to it by now - when your door bell rings.
With Nabi laying her head against your shoulder you open the door and hear someone rush the stairs up.
When a heavy breathing Jungkook stops right in front of you you're ready to scold him but then you need a second to take a closer look at his appearance.
His hair is a total mess and his lips are puffy and his t-shirt is wrinkled and that a hickey on his neck? His skin is bruised with red and purple marks. Your nose flares in irritation.
"I didn't realise how much time had passed," he explains. "We were - I mean, it was...I was about to pick up Nabi but then we got distracted and then she asked me for how long you'll watch over Nabi and then I panicked because I totally forgot that you..." He pauses, but then continues after a few seconds of silence, "But I am here now." He gives a sheepish smile at the end of his explanation.
Jungkook forgot about you. It scares you how easy it is for him to forget you.
"You know, I'm happy for you getting out there again but don't let your dick take control over the duties you have in life, okay?"
"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you wait for...2 hours?"
You sigh. "It's okay now. Just don't do it again." You can't stay mad at him. It's not even something big to be really mad about. You're a little hurt, but that's fine. Jungkook won't repeat it.
He looks guilty but then that look on his face vanishes as he realises that Nabi is still wide awake in your arms, looking at him with her big doe eyes and flashing him a big gummy smile.
"Why is she not sleeping?"
"She has been fussy the whole night. She kept waking up and didn't want to sleep." You won't mention the Baby Shark concert that you and Nabi were just holding in your living room.
"You love being difficult, don't you?" Jungkook scolds Nabi and takes her from you. He holds her in front of his face, looking at her with furrowed eyebrow and tries to look stern but all Nabi is interested in is slowly aiming her chubby hand to his eyebrow piercing and toying with the ring with her little fingers. "And you don't care the slightest, do you?"
You smile gently at the way his voice automatically turns soft when he talks to her. It's the love in his eyes whenever he looks at Nabi that squeezes your heart with warmth.
Before Jungkook leaves he presses a kiss on your cheek and thanks you for not staying angry at him and always being understanding.
For the rest of the night you think about the hickey adorning Jungkook's skin on his neck,  even while you're out with Jimin and Seulgi. Even when you stumble home with a random guy - you can't get Jungkook out of your head.
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ahundredtimesover · a day ago
Fight for You Epilogue (10)
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​10: When he makes a promise
Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader
Genre/Tags: established relationship - FFY couple; fluff, smut (18+)
Warnings: So. much. fluff. But sentimental Jungkook and emotional OC so lots of tears 🥺 sexual content (lots of kissing, breast play, some sweet condiments involved, unprotective penetrative sex [please be safe!])
Word count: 5.1k
A/N: Our babies are taking that next step! I hope you enjoy this one.
And as always, thank you to Ash @jimilter​ for this banner. 🥰
Epilogue Series Masterlist || Previous || Next
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you tell Jungkook, as you both haul your luggage and make your way across the airport.
“___, we’ve been together for 4 years. We’ve taken so many trips in that time,” he chuckles, switching bags with you so he’s pulling 2 trolleys and you’re pulling 1. 
“Never alone, though!” You clarify. “We’re always with our friends or my parents or Namjoon. This time it’s just you and me and I’m really excited.”
“So am I, angel. It's a good thing you got to convince your parents and Mr. Han and Namjoon to let you go, then.”
“Well, I am with you. You are a trained bodyguard with laser eyes and hands of steel with spidey reflexes,” you remind him.
“Okay, I see Jin is getting you into superhero movies now. I’m way better than them, by the way.”
“Not really. You’re more good-looking though, I give you that,” you giggle. 
You lean on his shoulder as you await the rental car he’ll be driving this whole trip. “But come on, barely anything bad happens in New Zealand.”
“True, but we can never be too sure. No one place is ever truly, completely safe. But we’re all good, we’ve got our bases covered,” he assures.
“What does that mean?” You turn to him questioningly.
“I’ve got the police on speed dial.”
“You what? Jungkook!”
“By your father’s and Mr. Han’s orders! We spoke to the station already. They’ll always have someone on standby should we encounter anything.”
“That is so embarrassing,” you frown. “What are we even gonna encounter? Sheep? Birds? Penguins? Even the animals here are harmless.”
“People, ___. I’m referring to people,” he deadpans. “Remember that trip to Scotland when a man was harassing you? It was a small, safe town and—“
“He thought I was his missing wife! And he only thought that I looked like her because he was drunk on whiskey!”
“That’s what he made us believe. We’ll never truly know,” Jungkook shakes his head.
“Ugh, you guys are—“
“Don’t say we're overreacting because I will tackle you to the ground.”
You smirk. “What if I want you to?” 
Jungkook’s face changes. “We’ll have plenty of time for that this whole week, okay?” He whispers in your ear, as he notices the man you’re waiting for approach both of you. 
You bite back a moan at the thought of what’s ahead. 
You insisted on this trip as a celebration of all sorts - Jungkook had just celebrated his birthday and your 4th year anniversary is in a few weeks. Countering the end-of-year craziness, you both decided to head to the South Island for a week. It’s really meant to be a break, knowing that things will get busy again and you just want alone time together. 
New Zealand seemed like the perfect place - you could just lay back and enjoy the views and feel like you’ve already accomplished a lot. You don’t really intend on doing many activities while you’re here; you just want to drive around and bask in nature and enjoy being the domestic, mature couple that you are who can manage being on their own. The safety of the country and the towns you’ll be in convinced Mr. Han that Jungkook is all you’ll need. 
“Hmm, good thing we’ll be staying in secluded properties, huh?” You whisper back. “I can be as loud as I want.”
Jungkook chuckles, your playfulness something he’s already used to, but he can’t help getting turned on at the thought. “Why are we always so horny?” 
Your laugh surprises the man and you quickly apologize. He waves you off and with his bright and welcoming smile, he leads you inside one of the rooms for an orientation and a quick guide on how to go to your desired places.
You don’t really have a plan. All you and Jungkook agreed on was where to set up your base in the two towns you’ll stay in; you’ll drive around and figure out what you’ll do from there. 
Perhaps that’s what excites you the most. There’s less stress this way; it’s just you and Jungkook exploring the place without any fear for your safety or worry about your image. You’re just a regular couple out here, doing things you wouldn’t normally be able to do back home, and that’s all you could hope for.
Jungkook loads your things in the trunk after a few more questions and you both bid the man goodbye.
You get in the passenger seat, the feeling unfamiliar yet exciting. Jungkook starts the car and it’s not long after when you take his free hand and intertwine your fingers with his.
“I’ve always wanted to do this,” you say.
“Uh, hold my hand?” He turns towards you.
“While you’re driving, duh!” You pout at his teasing. “It just feels so couple-y and we never get to do it. But now, we have a week of just this,” you excitedly say, peppering his hand with kisses.
“I’m quite amused with the little things that are making you happy out here, angel.”
“What can I say? I’m a simple girl,” you shrug. 
He laughs and takes your hand to his lips this time. “You drive me crazy and I love you so much.”
“I know,” you say softly, as you admire him in his dark grey sweatshirt, with the sun reflecting on his eyes and his smile still the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. “I love you so much, too.”
You hear a low grumble from the bed several steps from where you are in the kitchen of the apartment you rented for your first stop. It's the lone property that’s situated atop a hill with glass all around. The scene is magnificent as it overlooks snow capped mountains and a ranch. The light from the morning sun shines through, giving the interior a calming glow.
There’s another grumble, prompting you to tell the mussed-haired man currently sitting half naked on the bed that he can go back to sleep.
“You’re making pancakes and they smell good,” he says with his gruff morning voice. 
You’re about to tell him it’s still a few minutes off, but then you hear grunting and you see him doing his usual morning push ups by the bed and you have to stop what you’re doing unless you want the pancakes to burn. 
With nothing but his boxers on, Jungkook is a sight to behold, with his honeyed skin glimmering under the sun and his strained face reminding you of all kinds of things.
“Not burning anything there, angel?” He chuckles, knowing your eyes are on him.
“Nope, I learned my lesson,” you respond, recalling the time you burned the meat you were cooking because he wanted to do his exercise inside his apartment, and you just couldn’t look away. 
He laughs, stands up, and kisses your cheek. He mumbles his deep good morning in your ear, then heads to the bathroom while you return to your task. 
Yesterday was a tiring first day, mostly because of the driving and multiple stops you took - from looking at scenery to grabbing a meal to buying things from the supermarket - before settling in your rental. Jungkook made his premium ramen for dinner and then you came on his face as he ate you out while you enjoyed the view of the Milky Way from the glass wall by the bed.
You smile at the memory and how gently he made love to you right after.
Jungkook returns and leans by the counter, watching you in your robe that’s slightly open to show you only in your underwear. Two plates with a stack of pancakes each lay before you, and you place the scoops of butter on top. He watches you tenderly, feeling sentimental at the thought that he could be waking up to this—to you—everyday of his life. 
He’s broken out of his daze with your cheeky smile and a bottle of whipped cream in your hand.
“May I?” You flutter your eyelashes, and he can’t really say no, especially since he ends up thoroughly enjoying the different things you propose you both do to spice things up. 
You’d told him once that you never felt comfortable enough with your former partners to do them, and Jungkook took that to heart, pleased that with him, you always feel safe and respected enough to go out of your comfort zone every once in a while.
He stands closer to you and with his desirous eyes, he smirks and says, “do whatever you want, angel.”
Your pussy throbs at the sound of his voice, and you proceed to swirl the whipped cream on his neck, with him angling it for better access and you biting your lip as it sticks to his skin. 
You lick it off his neck, sensually, then you suck on his flesh to savor the taste more. You moan as you do, getting lost in the act, as his pants get louder and his hands start kneading your ass, pushing you towards him for friction. 
You kiss him deeply before you swirl on his pecs this time, his dark nipples being covered by the pillowy cream. He laughs briefly at your cheekiness but grunts right after you suck on his bud then drag your sugar-stained tongue across his chest to the other end, sucking on that, too. Your fingers ghost over his taut torso while he directs your face towards his, and crashes his mouth to yours, his tongue sliding in to taste the sweetness off you. 
He licks the leftover cream on your lips and grunts. “My turn.”
Your eyes don’t leave each other as he guides you towards the bar stool, sitting you down then getting the chocolate syrup from the counter. He unties your robe but keeps it on, the sight of you like this always doing things to him.
You both watch with desire as Jungkook tips the bottle, loving the way the syrup slowly drips on your body, across your breasts and down your waist. He catches it with his tongue before it goes further south, his wet muscle stimulating you further as it travels up, sucking in places he likes, until it reaches your breasts.
He swallows them whole and sucks hard, but it’s slow and sensual, as if he wants to savor this. Your moans are deep and long, and you caress the back of his neck as he pleasures you, finding warmth in the way he takes you - passionately, intentionally, but with so much love and desire. 
He licks everything off and meets your lips again, and you’re both on a sugar-high from each other’s tastes, as the cream and syrup mix as you kiss.
The need heightens, and it’s not long before he pushes aside your thong and aligns his aching cock to your throbbing pussy, slightly lifting your legs for the angle that he knows would make you feel so good. 
He sucks on your neck as he holds your waist with one hand and supports himself against the counter with the other, thrusting into you steadily but with so much force that you feel him so deep inside you. It’s mind-blowing as it is so loving, as he looks at you with so much affection, swallowing your moans and gripping you tighter. 
He chants he loves you in between curses, and it’s the kind of sex that tells you more, that makes you feel more. The tears that form are due to the pleasure and the overwhelming love you have for this man. 
Mornings of domesticity and lovemaking are truly your favorite.
He strokes your breast again, flicking your nipples as he increases his pace to reach your highs, your parted lips and loud moans pushing him over the edge. You come together, with him burying his head in the crook of your neck, as you trace patterns on his back, humming as he catches his breath. 
“You tired, babe?” You tease.
“Fuck, yeah. I’m gonna need bacon and eggs with those pancakes,” he says, as he stands back up and you pepper his abdomen with kisses.
“Uh… I used all of our eggs. I couldn’t get the batter right,” you shyly smile.
He laughs at your cute expression but lets it go, knowing you tried, and anything you make for him is always special.
“Guess we’re stopping over at another supermarket later then,” he states. 
You nod in response. “We’ve got all the time out here, Jungkook.”
Time feels to fly by so slowly out here. For the next 2 days, you bike around town, do a bit of shopping, enjoy a boat ride on a glacier-filled lake, and go bungee jumping.
It’s midway through the week when you take another couple of hour-drive to a lakeside town and settle in the coziest cottage you’ve ever seen. It’s absolutely stunning, as the wooden walls and beams, faux rugs, and fireplace make it feel so homey, but the linens and furniture give an elegant touch. There’s an outdoor tub and seating decorated with fairy lights, overlooking the bluest lake you’ve ever seen, which also happens to literally be a few steps away from the property. 
Jungkook had chosen this, too, opting for something small but luxurious and private just the same. He had to make sure that security was good, as he always does when checking where to stay during your trips.
It’s so intimate and you can already imagine nights just gazing at the stars over hot chocolate and s’mores and Jungkook’s cuddles. 
You stare out to the lake and marvel at its beauty and you see him do the same. You approach him and hug him from behind, intertwining your fingers with his.
“It’s so beautiful out here, babe. Thank you for choosing this,” you whisper in his ear.
“I can get romantic sometimes, you know,” he states. “I got the host to add a couple of things so the place fits what I want for us here.”
“And what do you want for us, hmm?” You ask, turning him around.
“Something comfortable and peaceful, a little snug but still luxe because my girlfriend likes fancy things,” he laughs. “But something just for us. Something that feels like home.”
You warm at the thought of what Jungkook wants to say with all this. Your lips meet his in a sensual kiss and you hum at how good and natural this all feels. 
“It already feels like that. But I still want our house to be 10x bigger than this.”
“I know, I know,” he laughs.
You both sit on the outdoor chairs with your legs laid on top of his. 
“What did we say we were gonna do out here?” You ask, as you both enjoy the early afternoon breeze. 
“Well, there’s visiting the hot springs, stargazing, trekking up a mountain… What do you feel like doing?”
“All of those,” you smile. “Even the trekking. I can’t vacation out here and not go to a mountain.”
“That’s… a lot of walking. Are you sure?” He questions.
“You could always carry me on your back if I get tired,” you tease. “But fine, let’s see. What are our other options?”
“We could go to a resort for a cable car or something,” he suggests, taking his phone out to look online. “There’s also a skywalk and a helicopter tour. Or we could—“
“There’s a heli tour?!” You exclaim.
“Yes, angel. With sights like this, there are dozens out here. What do you want?” 
He scrolls down a list of various tours nearby, searching for the best sight, which really, is everything, as if you can’t go wrong with whatever you both go for.
“You choose! I’m sure you’ll read through their security whatever anyway and that’s how you’ll decide,” you state. “But anything overlooking the snow-capped mountains would be great. They look so majestic from far away and I can imagine how much better they’d be up close.”
“Hmm, okay. This one seems nice,” he says, showing you a photo from a website.
“I’ll go where you want, babe,” you kiss his cheek. “Can we go today?”
“I’ll book them first, alright?” He chuckles. “Let’s try tomorrow.”
“Okay, so hot springs today, it is!”
Jungkook smiles and internally pats himself in the back, as his plan seems to be going accordingly. 
“Alright, angel,” he kisses you. “I can’t wait for tomorrow.”
Jungkook stands by the door that leads outside, marveling at how the lake looks in the morning. It’s a big day today and he feels all sorts of nervousness and excitement. After everything he went through, after what he’d become, he never really thought he’d get here.
He’s been sentimental this whole trip, thinking of how every birthday since you’ve been together has been the best, how he’s grown and learned so much about himself in the past 4 years, how capable he is to forgive and to love and to accept love. Not only does he get to be with you alone out here, he also gets to experience what life would be like once you both take that next step.
He feels your arms wrap around his waist and your soft lips against his bare shoulders.
“Missed you in bed,” you hum in your sleepy voice. “Can you come back with me? Just want more of you before we head out.”
He nods and you lead him back. While Jungkook loses his mind when you’re dressed in your satin night robes, seeing you in his oversized sweaters is also pretty special, like his dark green fleece one that you’re wearing right now. 
You both lay in bed facing the window with a fantastic view, with him hugging you from behind this time. He’s peppering kisses on your neck while you pull his arms to try and make him hold you tighter. 
“I don’t wanna squeeze you. You complain when I do that,” he says.
“Don’t care. It’s cold today. Just want you to hold me like you don’t want to let me go,” you mumble, eyes fluttering close. 
Jungkook doesn’t say anything, as the words hit home. He won’t ever let you go; that’s what today is all about. 
But he does as you ask, turning you to face him with his arms wrapped around you, his legs on top of yours, and your face flushed against his bare chest. 
“Jungkook, you’re squishing me. I can’t breathe!”
And all he does is laugh while you squeal until he feels your bite on his skin, and he loosens his grip. He’s met with furrowed brows and the cutest pout. He kisses it off your lips and you smile and hug him this time.
Mornings of laughter and kisses are truly some of his favorites.
“It’s a wonderful view from there, I promise,” the pilot assures as he leads you to the helicopter with Jungkook and another guide. 
“You sure it’s worth it?” You ask nervously.
“It’s pretty life-changing, actually,” he smiles. 
You look at Jungkook who playfully shrugs. “I believe him.”
“Okay, let’s do this, then,” you say and enter the aircraft.
You hold Jungkook’s hand as you ascend into the air, your heart racing and your stomach doing somersaults due to nervousness and excitement. 
You don’t know what to expect. All you told Jungkook yesterday was you wanted to fly over the snow-capped mountains but didn’t want to see photos because you want to be surprised; you want to see the view for the first time like this. You let him deal with the booking, knowing that he’d be asking a bunch of safety questions, as he always does. 
You’ve flown over topography like this before, but being in the helicopter makes you feel so close, as you fly over clear lakes and lush hills. The smile doesn’t leave your face as you marvel at the scenery before you, especially as you go further towards where the mountains are. 
They’re so vast, going as far as the eyes could see. They look so massive, and it amazes you how the earth fell into place the way it did for something so majestic to form. The snow looks so soft, as if you could just sink into it and you’d oddly feel warm and comforted. 
Jungkook looks at you with awe. He’s never seen this view before, but he can’t help but think that your face and your smile - so enchanted like this - rival what’s below him. He rubs your hand as it squeezes his, thinking how different it will look not long from now.
“Not scared anymore?” He teases.
“I was only a little nervous,” you correct. “But it’s absolutely stunning, babe. They almost don’t look real. But they are, and we’re seeing them, and we’re gonna land on them.”
“We are,” he smiles. “I figured you really wanted to see these. You’ve started to like the mountains, huh?”
“Remember our trip to the National Park during my birthday after we got together?”
“Yeah. That was pretty special,” he recalls.
“You looked at the mountains with stars in your eyes that day. Your smile was so bright and I loved seeing you like that,” you admit. “And I thought that I wanted to see the world the way you see it, too. And every time I think about that day, I think about how I want us to keep seeing the world together.”
Jungkook takes a deep breath as he stares into your eyes. How everything has come together is beyond him, but he’s learned long ago to not question it. He’s here with you, gazing at something so beautiful, so enduring, while you’re both at the cusp of something that’s the same.
The guide turns to him with a smile and Jungkook knows it’s about time.
“We’re nearing the best part of the tour,” the pilot says. “Please look to your right.”
That’s the side where you’re seated, and you excitedly look out the window, waiting for whatever the best part is, wondering what else could look more amazing than what you’ve already seen.
The helicopter takes a turn and that’s when you see it. You read the words that are spelled on the snow over and over again until you no longer can because of the tears that are making your vision blurry. 
___, marry me?
You cover your mouth as you sob. You’ve been waiting for this but you can’t help but think it’s all a dream, as if you’re still wrapping your mind around how real this is. You turn to Jungkook who’s looking partly worried and partly amused.
“Baby,” you sink into his chest.
“Please tell me this is a happy cry before I start crying myself,” he chuckles.
“It is,” you turn to him, kissing him deeply to answer a question you’d only read but haven’t actually heard him ask. “I love you. Oh my god, I love you so much.”
“I love you,” he laughs onto your lips. He’s about to officially ask you this time but you cry again, and all he can do is wipe the tears off your face and wait for a little longer, knowing that you’re probably still processing all this. You always leave him to feel all his emotions, and he’s just doing the same.
You look out the window again until you finally land and you immediately get off the aircraft, ready to head towards where the words are spelled, but Jungkook pulls your hand and you turn to him, confused.
“Can I finally, officially ask you, please?” 
“Oh my god, yes!” You squeal. “I mean, yes, please ask me.”
You ready your hand out for him to place the ring and you hear people laugh around you. You look around and notice 2 of them holding cameras, while the other few present cheer you on.
Jungkook kneels on the ground and takes your hand, chuckling as he sees your eyes get glassy again.
“Angel,” he starts.
“Yes, babe?” Your voice shakes.
“Thank you for letting me in your life, and for breaking down my walls so I could let you in mine,” he continues, voice cracking as well. “Your love is the only one I’ve ever known, and it’s all I want to know for the rest of my life. I don’t ever want to be without it, without you. Will you marry me?”
You nod vigorously, mouthing yes in between trying to catch your breath. He takes the box from his pocket and places the ring on your finger, the tears flowing at how beautiful it looks on you.
He stands up and hugs you tightly. “I’m going to marry you, angel. We’re going to have such a good and happy life together,” he whispers.
“We will,” you say, as he turns to face you now.  
You look at your ring-bearing hand and gasp at what you see - a cluster ring with an aquamarine gem at the center, beautifully surrounded by sapphires and diamonds.
“Jungkook, this is gorgeous,” you say softly, still admiring it.
You look at him and everything fades away. He looks back at you with stars in his eyes and the brightest smile, and the pilot was right - the view here is truly life-changing.
Jungkook basks in your warm, sweet smile. He couldn’t wait for today, even if he planned for the proposal to happen towards the end of the trip, having to fake not knowing which tour to take yesterday when he’d arranged this months ago. 
So many times he wanted to just do it, usually during the simplest moments of just both of you doing mundane things together - on the first drive out from the airport when you held his hand and hummed to the music, on that first morning when you were making pancakes, and even this morning as you laughed in his arms.
But he held out because he wanted it to be perfect. He wanted it grand but intimate, kind of like how he thinks the rest of your life together is going to be. And he has a feeling it’s what you’re thinking, too, as you look around and admire the grandeur of your surroundings, but out here, on top of the world, it’s just you and him. 
I want to get on a mountain and scream to the world how much I love you, Jungkook told you not long ago. You smile at how he did just that, and you’re assured that whatever plans and dreams you’ll have together, he’ll do everything to make sure you’ll get there. And you know that so will you. 
“This feels so us,” you say, as you pull him close and tiptoe to softly kiss his lips. “This is perfect.”
And Jungkook thinks that the pilot was right - with your content smile and glimmering eyes, the view is wonderful, and definitely worth it.
The trip is nearing its end and much as you want to just stay here, you also can’t wait to go back home to celebrate with your loved ones. 
Right after yesterday’s engagement, you and Jungkook drove to a seaside town and did rounds of video calls with your best friends, Jin, Ina, and Namjoon, who all said they’ll be throwing you a not-so-surprise engagement party right when you get home. Mr. Sim and Mrs. Hwang sent messages; so did your parents and Jungkook’s mom. 
You both spent the night at a nice restaurant and then enjoyed biscuits and hot chocolate at the outdoor tub. You fell asleep laying on Jungkook’s chest as you both talked about your wedding plans, your honeymoon, and your future house.
Earlier, you visited another town and did a quick hike to see a lake nestled in the mountains. You’re currently at the Observatory, laying on a mat as you stare up at the galaxy displayed right before your eyes. You’d seen the stars shine brightly during your entire stay here, but this one is different. It’s unbelievably clear and breathtakingly beautiful. 
“It’s like the stars aligned for us, don’t you think?” You turn to Jungkook.
“You got reassigned, I had a crush on you, you rejected me a bunch of times…” you tease.
“Then I got shot and we got close because of the scariest thing that happened to both of us,” he continues, the incident still a vivid memory but one that you’re both able to talk about more openly now.
“How was that the scariest thing when you didn’t even like me then?” You cock an eyebrow.
“Well, thinking about it now, it actually was. If it was you who got hurt, then we wouldn’t be here. And not being with you is the scariest thing that could ever happen to me,” he explains. 
“But now we get to be together for the rest of our lives,” you assure him. 
“I promise I’ll always choose you, ___,” he says, turning towards you. “Even when I’m scared or worried or unsure. I’ll always choose you and fight for you and love you like it’s all I’ve ever known.”
“Starting your vow early?” You tease, but you wipe your tears as you do. 
“I made this promise in my head that day I went after you in the ocean. I knew I had to become good enough to one day make this promise to you because I know I won’t break it. I can’t,” his voice cracks. “I know what it’s like to lose you, more than once, and I don’t ever want to feel that emptiness again.”
“You’ll never lose me, baby,” you kiss him. “And I promise I’ll always choose you. Even when I’m scared or worried or unsure. I’ll always choose you and fight for you and love you like it’s all I’ve ever known,” you repeat his words. 
He cups your cheek then kisses you, smiling onto your lips and already feeling like a new man. 
He looks back up at the sky, with you in his arms, thinking how precious life is - to be but a speck of dust in the universe but to feel as if this moment is infinite, like this moment will live on. In his mind, it always will. 
It’s amazing, Jungkook thinks, how he’d spent much of his life trying to be someone that he would measure by wealth and success. But here he is, being reminded of his smallness as he stares at the galaxy. And here you are, looking at him like he’s the only one in this vast world who matters.
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224 notes · View notes
bangtangalicious · a day ago
Hi i have an idea for tmw koo👉👈 its what if oc' boobs are feeling sore and jk offers a massage? So she sits on his lap while he massages them and her hips start to involuntarily ride koo's thigh? And she eventually cums? And theyre kind of unsure what just happened? 🥺
tw: smut, thigh riding, groping/breast play, dry humping, cumming in ur clothes, innocent!reader x innocent!koo, stuttering, whimpering, needy vibes
it would be at school. your bra has begun to feel tight on your body. you don't realize its because you've by far grown out of the pair you'd been wearing. nevertheless, the pain in your back makes you ache to take it off.
jungkook notices your distress, and asks you whats wrong. when you tell him, he feels so bad! he wants to help you feel better, so he slides his hand under your shirt, up your back
your bra's off.
sighing with relief, you're suddenly made aware of how bad your tits were aching after being compressed so tightly all day. you whine, without a second thought bringing jungkook's hand to cup you, explaining how bad it hurt
his breath hitches, and he watches you carefully as he slowly tightens his grip. just barely. giving you a lil...
just a lil...
you let out such a pretty sigh, it only makes jungkook want to do it again. you tell him you like it when he does that. so as your friend, what better than for him to take away your pain!
sitting you down on his lap he pops open your uniform shirt, pushing up your little bra so he can cover both your heaving breasts with his hands.
when his finger touches your hot skin he flinches at first. watching the way you shiver, nipples hardening at the cold air.
the carefully he wraps his palms under and around your perfect breasts, fingers slowly landing to squeeze the plump flesh
then he does it again
and again
he's enjoying it, more than he'd care to admit. your breasts feel so good in his hands, so warm and soft he wants to just bury his face between them and suffocate
he continues to caress you, pressing and rolling your tits under his large hands, letting his fingers glide of your sensitive buds, thumb tracing circles over them
he feels your thighs tighten around his own. he notices that your body seems to be rocking back and forth. at first he wasn't sure, until he begins to feel something wet.
pained whimpers leave your lips, which drive jungkook further. he asks you sotfly
does that feel better y/nnie?
do you like that?
to which you nod aggressively
y-yes koo.
keep doing that please
you were rolling your hips, desperate as though you were in heat, against his strong muscular thigh. his name peaking through your lips as you whimpered.
your body heating fast,
nerves tingling between your legs,
hips quickening as you soaked pleasure from the touch of his firm hands.
jungkook is quiet. he doesn't know what you're doing, but he knows that he doesn't want you to stop. that he doesn't want to stop touching you either. ever. his pants feel tight. strangely uncomfortable.
his hands leave your chest briefly, making you complain with a groan. he readjusts you so your hips are flush against his, the pressure from your body making that ache in his pants feel a little better
until you begin moving again
you dont know what it is, but rubbing up against him, in such soft, small pushes, was driving you crazy. you had never felt this good in your life. you didn't ever want the feeling to end, especially if it meant having to feel your muscles aching again.
y/nnie w-what are you?
jungkook's eyes were shot. dark with lust as you began to bounce on him slightly, humping him at a feverish pace.
k-koo...wait i just...i just need
your words were incoherent. you were a stuttering mess, forcing jungkook's hands back onto your chest as you began to counce on him more violently. jungkook's eyes glues to your tits, watching how the jiggled under his grip
he squeezes down on them tightly, fingers pinching at your nipples. a groan leaves his lips as you buck your hips.
burying your face into his neck, you scream, bouncing faster and harder than ever. a rush of pleasure hits you. something so incredible you want to keep feeling it so you push your hips further, riding against his pulsing bulge, paying no mind to the wet patch leaking through your panties and onto his slacks
jungkook can't breathe. whatever you just did, it was making him dizzy. he felt a sudden urge to tear off all your clothes. to feel you incredibly close. when you stopped moving, your heavy sighs only aroused him further. your legs tightened around him.
w-what just happened? he asks you innocently, cock yearning for stimulation
you shake your head, i dunno koo...but please give me massages more often
read the original here! ➭ touch me wherever (s) loss-of-innocence!au pwp | jungkook x reader - COMPLETE
scenarios: when you get a crush | when he takes your virginity | if he got you pregnant | kink discovery: dacryphilia
drabbles: tickle me there | touch yourself here | wanna touch you | soaked n’ slippery
350 notes · View notes
lushtans · 5 hours ago
When they’re embarassed because they’ve come early
↬ pairing: members x fem!reader
↬ genre: smut, fluff (kinda?), established relationship
↬ rating: 18+ (NSFW)
↬ warnings: profanity, messy sex, dom/sub undertones, tit fucking, handjob, cum eating, facial (?), praising, use of pet names, dry humping, marking, ass rimming, unprotected sex, cream-pie, oral (m! receiving), hair pulling. uhh let me know if i missed something
↬ masterlist
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 a/n ꒱ this was sitting in my drafts, collecting dust for who knows how long. for some reason i don’t remember when i started it kfhj :'))) but good news is that after noticing it recently, i decided to finish it up ♥︎ took me 5 days??? stupid writer’s block 😠! but anyways, enjoy! had so much fun with this 🤪 ||| banner cr.
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Kim namjoon
The sinful sight in front of his eyes is enough for him to loose control and come right now. But desperately wanting to prolong the pleasure, Namjoon groans and growls, cursing under his breath. “Fuck! Fuck, baby. That feels so good— oh god!”
Breathing uneven, your hands squeeze your breasts harder to cage his cock in completely. His eyes are starting to droop, lips parted as he moans out in ecstasy. As you start moving harder against him, eager to please your giver boyfriend for once, Namjoon hisses. “Damn it— slow down baby, I— fuck I’m so close.”
“I want your cum all over my boobs,” you purr, his throbbing cock sliding in and out of the valley of your tits. Brows furrowed and chest heaving, he cups your cheek in his warm and calloused hand.
“But, baby—” Namjoon stops dead in his tracks when he feels your tongue lapping at his leaking tip. He whimpers your name, hands turning into fists as waves of his intense release crash down onto him.
“Yes! Fuck, so good,” you stop moving once you feel the thick ropes of his seed squirting over your chest and neck. While he tries to recover, you use your finger to gather some of his cum from your skin and start suckling on it.
“I can’t believe I came so fast. This is so embarassing,” Namjoon mumbles under his breath, his face flushed. “What have you done to me, baby?”
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Kim Seokjin
He knows damn well that he’s not gonna last long. Not when you’re giving him the most innocent looking eyes while jerking him off.
“Jagi, oh shit! You’re doing so well for me,” Jin mutters, his head thrown back against the headrest of the gaming chair. It’s not his first time getting a handjob from you, but it certainly feels a lot different than the previous times — your shyness gone completely.
“Only for you.” You flash him a soft smile, rubbing your cheek against the hardness of his dick. Jin bucks up his hips when you gently squeeze his shaft while keeping up the pace. The feeling of your small, delicate yet skillful hands around his glorious girth is euphoric. He growls, shuddering when your tongue darts out to fondle with his balls.
“Fucking hell! If you keep that up, I’ll make a mess sweetheart.”
“What if I want that?” you wink at him, right hand rubbing on his pink tip and spreading the pre cum beads. A grunt escapes him, it’s too much, and he’s not sure how much longer he can delay the inevitable.
“I’m gonna cum!” Seokjin warns, his voice breaking when he feels himself twitch. He bites down the plump flesh of his lower lip, falling back with a moan as his orgasm hits. You hum appreciatively, the milky white warmth of his release splattering over your hands and face, some of it trailing down his length.
When he finally opens his eyes, he groans at the sight of you covered with him. “Jagi... I’m so sorry.” You immediately notice the way his ears turn red, head hanging down.
“I liked it soooo much. Why are you apologizing, hm?” you mewl, “I love you.”
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Min Yoongi
Yoongi’s hands are warm yet rough on your ass as your grind on him shamelessly, desperate for some friction. The wet material of your cotton panties stick on your skin uncomfortably, but you’re way too lost in the feeling of his hard dick pressing into your clothed cunt to actually care.
“Fuck, just like that, keep grinding on me.” He grunts, loving the way you’re whining and moaning. Your fingers are digging into his shoulder, eyes hazy from the lust surging through your body. It’s filthy — the fact that you were too needy to undress and think properly, deciding to hump him instead like a horny teenager.
“Good girl.” Yoongi mutters, giving your ass a firm squeeze. You gasp whenever your clit brushes against his rock-hard cock, the friction so delicious that it makes your hips stutter.
The throbbing of his member increases with each grind of your hips. He concentrates on holding in longer, but it only pushes him closer to the edge as you keep chanting his name like a prayer.
“Fuck! Kitten, are you close, hm? Are you gonna come for me?”
“No— not yet...” you shudder, leaning down to cover his neck with your marks. Yoongi groans, reaching his peak sooner than he expected. You whine when you feel his cum soaking your panties and dripping down your inner thighs. He recovers in record time, looking at your dazed state.
“Oh my god, what a fucking mess. Ugh, I’m sorry, kitten.” He shakes his head, embarassment coloring his voice.
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Jung Hoseok
“My love, you look so pretty, taking my cock like that.” Hobi groans, capturing your lips in a heady kiss. He’s a bit sensitive tonight, every sensations heightened.
“Harder, please,” you moan, pressing your face on the pillow. He swallows nervously, knowing that he won’t last long if he gets rougher with you.
“Later, baby. I don’t think that I can keep up if I go harder right now.” Hoseok sighs in relief when you mumble ‘okay’. He draws his hips back and forth, relishing the way you squeeze him impatiently.
“Please,” you whine again, “Fuck me.” A low growl rumbles in his chest, a switch flipping inside him. All restraint gone, his thrusts get more and more powerful, coaxing a string of incoherent words from you. The sound of skin slapping against skin gets louder, drowning your noises.
“Yeah? You want me to fuck you that bad?” Hobi hisses, his orgasm buliding rapidly with each clench of your inner walls. “Fuck, I’m gonna come, babe.”
“Come in me.” you push your ass back, ready for him to fill you up. He presses his forehead on your back, his thrusts turning sloppy.
“I’m sorry, love,” Hobi lets out a wanton moan, his hips stilling as he climaxes, his seed shooting inside you in spurts. He reaches down to find your clit, rubbing it in tight circles while whispering apologies.
“Please don’t say that, I love you.” you whimper, reaching your own peak soon.
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Park Jimin
He’s over the moon, to say the least. The fact that you’re eating his ass just because he had mentioned it once during intercourse, makes him realize exactly how keen you are to please him.
“Mm, it feels so amazing— fuck baby. You’re amazing.” Jimin’s airy voice rings through the air, your heart swelling from his praises. Tongue guided on the rim of his butt and hands pumping his length, you’re determined to make him see stars.
He holds spreads his legs more, giving you space to get comfortable on the bed. Jimin can’t help but moan whenever your tongue presses inside him, hands squeezing his cock and trying to stimulate him as much as possible.
“Jimin-ah~” you hum seductively, moving to his balls as you increase the pace of your hands. You spit on his member once more, earning a grunt from his cherry lips.
“Fuck baby, I’m— I think I’m about to come. Oh no.” Jimin whines breathlessly, bucking up his hips to meet you halfway. You keep up your work, eyes watching him convulse under your touch.
“You can come, you know?”
“No! I want to— oh fuck—” his body shudders as he reaches the pinnacle, painting your hands and his own stomach white with his cum. He turns red soon after, his voice broken. “God, this is so embarassing.”
“I think the word you’re looking for is sexy.”
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Kim Taehyung
“So tight and wet for me, fuck!” Taehyung groans, starting to move slowly. It’s been so long since the last time he saw you, touched you, loved you like this. He cradles you in his strong arms, snapping his hips feverishly against you.
“Tae!” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist as he pounds into you. The feeling of being stretched out and getting impaled by him is overwhelming for your sensitive cunt.
“I missed you so much baby, so fucking much.” He grunts, touching your foreheads together. Taehyung is delirious, the warmth of your velvety walls squeezing him too much to handle.
Your moans only fuel him more, his hands gripping on your hips with a bruising force as he dives inside you. Before he can register what’s happening, bliss overtakes his senses.
You whimper his name when Taehyung finds his release deep inside you, the process of him filling you up somehow triggering your own orgasm. Your walls clench around him desperately, earning a growl from him.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. Can’t believe that I couldn’t make you come before I finished. Shit.” He hides his face in the crook of your neck, face heated up from embarassment.
“It’s— it’s okay.” You manage to croak out, holding him tightly. It doesn’t really matter to you, not when you have him in your arms.
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Jeon Jungkook
“Fuck, babygirl. You feel so good, taking my cock so well.” Jungkook moans, his hands holding onto your hair as you bob your head up and down, trying your best to control your gag reflex. You’re a drooling mess, but you don’t care.
He hisses when you try to take him deeper, choking on his length, which causes tears to gather in your eyes. Jungkook swears that he’s about to come at the feeling of your throat closing around him, gritting his teeth in order to avoid the embarassing situation. Your hands start stimulating his base where your mouth can’t reach. It’s clear that your intentions are to get him undone asap.
“Damn it, baby, slow down! I’m not gonna last long if you keep squeezing me like that.” He falters when he feels you hum, the vibration making his stomach tense.
Forcing your jaw to open wider, you set a steady pace, hands and mouth working in unison. Jungkook groans and growls, pulling on your hair to keep himself grounded. A few tears cascade down your cheeks from the uncomfortable burn on your scalp, paired up with the numb pain of your jaw.
“Ugh, I’m coming, fuck!” Soon enough, you feel the hot, milky loads of him cum hitting your throat, and you swallow obediently, feeling victorious.
Pulling out with a loud, popping sound, you rest your face on his thighs. Jungkook straightens up on the couch after a few moments, pulling you up to drop a kiss on your forehead.
“I didn’t expect to finish so early, babygirl. But you did so well. I’ll make it upto you later, ok?”
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˗ˏˋ꒰ 💌 author’s notes ꒱
thank you so much for reading! i really hope that you enjoyed this 🥰! forgive me if there are any mistakes, I didn’t proof-read because I got so excited after finishing this sfhkdjs 😭 (writer’s block has been a bitch to me for months now 😔)
reblogs and feedback is always appreciated! i’d love to hear what you thought about it 🥺💞
i hope that everyone is well and taking care <3
183 notes · View notes
dazed--xx · 2 days ago
Mr. & Mrs Jeon (3)
MR & MRS SMITH screenplay written by Simon Kinberg/ Novelization by Cathy East Dubowski
T/W: Assassinations, guns, suggested sexual content, crumbling marriage, contract killing, Rocket Launcher, Government agencies, slight DV(they accidentally hurt each other physically) anything else i did not mention
A/N: I DID NOT WRITE THIS THE AUTHORS ARE LISTED ABOVE. I was definitely watching Mr. & Mrs. Smith and just saw Jungkook as John so often i needed this. and I saw your comment here you go hun @mwitsmejk
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Not knowing where else to go, I headed for my safe house-the Triple-Click project room. It was late, but Rosè was still there. She took one look at me and shoved me into a comfortable Chair. I took a deep breath-and told her my news.
“Say that again?”
I glared at her. It was hard enough to get the words out once. Besides, she’d heard me the first time. The operative we’d been ordered to kill-the man who’d tried to kill me-was a known entity. Relatively speaking.
My husband.
“But that’s just so implausible,” Rosè said as she sank down into a chair. “What are the odds?” She shook her head. “But it could be worse, Jane.”
The scowl I shot her could have sharpened a Cuisinart blade.
Rosè shrugged comically, and I would have laughed if the circumstances hadn’t been so dismal. We were two girlfriends sharing the sordid details of a husband’s infidelities. Only in my case the betrayal went far beyond an affair with a neighbor or a lap dance gone awry on a business trip.
If only I didn’t know, injured wife might say to sympathetic friend. If only I could pretend it didn’t happen … But I’m not an ordinary woman, nor is my life an ordinary life. Two roads diverged many years ago when I had chosen the road less traveled. I’d made peace with who I was.
Then Jungkook  had stumbled into my life and complicated everything. Made me feel things I’d never known I could feel for anyone. Made me long for a life I should’ve known I could never have. In the heat of the moment, I had let the danger and romance of Bogota overpower me, and I’d let the enemy capture the one thing I had sworn never to give up.
My heart.
Rosè had warned me, but I’d refused to listen. Lucky for me my best friend was a hard-ass intelligence professional who had a lot more to offer than a hankie and a slice of coffee cake. “Okay. It’s a little awkward, I admit,” Rosè said. “But face it. He’s a man. They should all come with an expiration date.” There was a look in Rosè’s eyes, a look that said she was speaking from experience. Painful experience. And for the first time I wondered about her life outside of work. It was something we didn’t talk about much in the offices of Triple-Click.
I fiddled with my wedding ring.
“Look,” Rosè said. “There is an upside ... You don’t love him. You’ll kill him. Nobody does that better than you.” I didn’t respond. I could feel Rosè staring at me, trying to read my thoughts.
“Wait a minute,” she said. “Don’t tell me you’re actually in love with him ...”
The blistering look I shot her was enough to send even her away. She was an experienced operative who knew how to dodge friendly fire. Ah, hell. I’d apologize tomorrow, but for now, I was glad to be alone. I hit the office fridge, bringing back a tumbler of ice and a bottle of pricey scotch.
I filled up my glass like it was Diet Coke, then clutched the drink between both hands and shotgunned it. Not the most elegant way to drink the stuff. But it did the trick. This was-after all-a special occasion. I refilled my glass, then slid the wedding ring from my finger and stared at my naked hand. A pale ghost of a ring remained on my skin where the band had protected the flesh all these years from the harsh realities of daily life. Would the mark fade? Or was it a scar I’d have to live with for years to come?
Don’t tell me you’re actually in love with him … Rosè’s question hung in the air. God help me, I was afraid of what my real answer might be. But I was at a fork in the road again, and I could only travel down one path.
Really, there was only one way to go.
I dropped the ring to the floor. Took another drink. Then did what I could admit to no one: I, Jane Jeon-trained assassin, coldhearted professional killer-dropped my head in my hands and wept.
Taehyung  may be slow in some departments. But that night he gave me instant advice. After I poured out all the sorry details, he lit into me with a bunch of I told you sos. (Okay. I deserved 'em.) Then he laid it on the line. “Take her out.” I stood in his doorway, all riled up, and knew as soon as he said it that it was the only way. “You’re right, you’re absolutely right, I'm gonna take her out.” I punched the air for emphasis.
“Now you’re talking,” Taehyung  said. “I like where your head's at, brother.”
I reached past the cookie jar, the near-rancid chunk of Cheddar cheese, and the open jar of mustard with the knife still sticking out of it and grabbed a handy machine gun that was lying on his kitchen counter. For once, I was glad Taehyung  was such a slob. “I’m gonna borrow this, okay?”
Taehyung  nodded as casually as if I'd asked to bum a cigarette. I grabbed the gun, and pumped up on adrenaline, I stormed out the door. Macho commando dude on a mission ... to kill his wife.
But somewhere out in the cool night air, something said. Hang on to your ammo, dude. Maybe it was the stars. Maybe it was the schizophrenic voices inside my head. Whatever it was, I couldn’t make myself walk out of the yard. I just stood there, like I was trapped by some kind of psychological electric dog fence.
I was tired. Yeah, that was it.
With a sigh, I walked back to the house and stepped inside. “It’s four in the morning,” I explained to Taehyung . ‘‘Tomorrow I'll get her.”
‘‘Yeah, yeah,” Taehyung  agreed, ‘‘kill her tomorrow. It’s late.” He took the gun from my hands. ‘‘You want to crash here?” I started to say. No, I’ll head on home. But then I realized-I didn't have one.
So I took Taehyung  up on his offer.
Suddenly overwhelmed with physical and mental exhaustion, I curled up on Taehyung 's ratty little couch which was about the size of Baby Bear’s bed. Taehyung  scrounged up a blanket for me and covered me up. It was a little kid’s blanket, embroidered with kittens and rainbows. I guess it must have been his baby blanket or something, because at first he didn't seem to want to let go of it.
‘‘Good night, Tae,” I said, fading fast.
‘‘'Night, Jungkook ,” he said. He let go of the blanket then and turned out the light. I lay there, struggling to get comfortable. The blanket only covered about half of me. Then I felt something lumpy under my head. I snuck my hand under the pillow and rooted around. At last I pulled out a .45 automatic wedged down under the cushions. That Taehyung  . . . like my mom used to say, he’d lose his head if it wasn’t attached.
Yawning, I let it drop to the floor, then tried to forget everything by going to sleep. Tomorrow, I promised myself. Tomorrow I’d do her for sure . . .
My beautiful home-!
My team was tearing it upside down, and it was all I could do not to scream at them: Stop! Stop! It was the home I’d fantasized about as a young girl. Nice neighborhood. Nice street. Nice yard.
Inside, everything was spacious and lovely. Thick carpet. Matching cups lined up on a shelf. Refrigerator always stocked with your favorite food. And a beautiful bedroom shared with a handsome husband, the man of my dreams.
Everything perfect. Like something out of a magazine. Now a trained team of agents was tearing it apart, poking through all its secrets. Julie shouted orders like a drill sergeant. “Pocket litter. Receipts. Matchbooks. You know what to do.” They did, and so did I. How many times had I torn someone’s life apart till it was nothing but fingerprints and fibers?
I trained these women, so I knew they were good, and I knew what we were here to do. They were doing serious CSI forensics work. Soon they’d be searching Jungkook ’s e-mail, hunting through our bills, digging through our drawers, our memories, our trash.
As if dissecting things, tearing them apart, would help me understand. I told myself to get a grip and get the job done. The sooner the better. As I walked through the living room, I saw Jessie pick up a glass figurine, and I winced. “I’ll get that.” I ignored her knowing look and pocketed the trinket. So I’d palmed a tiny souvenir from the old days. Who cared? See? I could dump a whole box of photos onto the floor, and not even feel compelled to look at them.
But then I sank to my knees. Beneath the pile of photos I found a yellowed Spanish-language newspaper, a pressed flower slipping from between its pages.
Carefully I picked it up, remembering … Our first morning-after together. The coffee he brought, the newspaper with this pitiful little weedy wildflower tucked inside, an uncomplicated gift of love.
Even a Vulcan would have felt a flicker of nostalgia. “Find anything?” Rosè asked. I glanced up and found her studying me, then I cleared the lump in my throat. “Just checking the personal effects of the target,” I said.
I tossed the newspaper on a pile and left the room. As I drifted through the rooms, watching my crew work, it was as if I were seeing my home for the first time. I remembered how the living room had looked when we first moved in-completely empty, and full of promise. Jungkook  and I had shared a candlelight dinner of pizza and wine on an upended crate our first night.
And later we’d made love on the floor ...
My heart twisted. I hadn’t thought of that in years. Now the house was completely furnished and beautifully decorated with elegant furniture, beautiful accessories. When had it stopped feeling wonderful? I wandered upstairs and stopped at a framed photograph of me and Jungkook  at Coney Island. Smiling.
Smiling and lying.
I felt someone looking at me and glanced through the doorway to my bedroom. My big stuffed bear sat on the edge of the bed, saying hello with his goofy grin. It was hard not to grin back, thinking of the day I won him, at the street festival in Little Italy. The look on Jungkook ’s face when I...
Then I saw a knife plunge into Bear’s heart. I stared in horror as one of my associates sliced him open and began to rummage through his stuffing for some clue. A sob rose in my throat. But then I lifted my chin. I could not do this. My life in this house had been a clever cover, nothing more. And then I heard Jungkook ’s voice coming from the bedroom.
My God. Was he here? In the middle of all this? I hurried into the bedroom and found what looked like a sleepover party: A bunch of my coworkers were curled up on my bed watching vacation videos. My vacation videos. A video of Mr. and Mrs. Jeon dancing on the beach.
That’s where Jungkook ’s voice was coming from. My voice, too.  And laughter. Lots of laughter.
“What is this?” I demanded. “Looks like your honeymoon,” Janet said. “I know what it is!” I snapped. “What are you doing with it?” “Research,” Jade said defensively. “Background. On the target.” The other girls nodded.
Bloody hell! I had just discovered that my entire marriage was a lie and that my husband was a stranger; I didn’t want to watch my goddamn honeymoon video!
“I’ve never seen you look so happy,” Janet said with a sigh.
Goddammit! I didn’t want to see videos of me happy in Jungkook ’s arms! I didn’t want to remember how perfect it felt. I had thought my old life was a faded memory. But now I knew it was even worse. It had all been a total lie. Even our honeymoon ...
Flames of anger devoured what was left of my heart. Yet I was as cold as ice. “Okay, ladies,” I said briskly, “this room’s wrapped.” Reluctantly they filed out of the bedroom. My bedroom. I reached for the remote to stop the video and turn off the TV . . . But I couldn’t help myself. It was like driving by a car wreck. I knew I shouldn’t, but out of morbid curiosity, I looked. Oh, God. Jungkook  and me ... in an island paradise. Laughing, kissing, fooling around. As if life were as beautiful and sunny as the sky above us.
I barely recognized myself. Had I ever really been that happy?
No, I told myself. It was only a dream. A beautiful, delicious ... lie-infested dream. I hit the remote, and the memories disappeared as easily as if I’d shut off a Disney video. You know, Cinderella, or one of those other deluded-girl movies. I walked to the TV, ejected the tape, and filed it where it belonged.
In the trash.
After that, I made an executive decision to leave the rest of the job inside to my crew. I’d gone in, faced it, and filed it. With one final notation: Jane Jeon doesn’t live here anymore.
Outside, I had one more project to handle.
The toolshed.
My domain had always been the kitchen-hell, I’d learned to cook out of necessity. During my childhood, it was cook for myself or don’t eat-and so I tackled cooking with the same obsession with perfection I’d applied to everything else. I’d become a goddamn gourmet, if I did say so myself.
But the toolshed was all Jungkook ’s. I never cared what he stored there or why he went in. Which, now that I thought about it, was pretty damn often. So I went in hungry, sure I’d struck gold. I flipped a switch, and a hanging bulb glared to life.
What a mess!
I popped open toolboxes, dug through drawers. Hell, I didn’t even know what most of this guy junk was. And then ... I heard something. Hollow sounds beneath my feet, my footsteps echoing faintly. I grinned. Fake floor! I stomped. More echoes. I’d found the mother lode.
I grabbed a flashlight and went to work.
I guess Jungkook  never expected anyone to suspect him, at least not here, at home in the burbs. Yeah, he had it locked up, but nothing heavy duty. I moved aside some kind of bench thing and found a safety box in the floor. Combination locks were one of my specialties, so I made short work of opening it. Next, I found an easy trapdoor handle and I was in.
When I dropped to my feet, I shined the flashlight at the walls.
Holy shit! It was a goddamn arsenal!
The place was lined with weapons of every kind and size. It was a weapons Wal-Mart! And on the shelves were stacks and stacks of cash. In every denomination. Lots of foreign bills, too. More money than the local bank branch probably ever had in its vaults.
My face broke out in the first genuine smile of the day. Cleaning out the toolshed was not usually my idea of a fun chore. But today, I thought I’d like it just fine. That’s when my girls showed up and were equally amazed. “Bag it,” I told them. “Bag it all.”
Like the Grinch who stole Christmas, we quickly packed up all of Jungkook ’s toys and stuffed them up the ladder. Out on the street, I watched in grim satisfaction as my associates loaded a black van with pillowcases and sheets that they’d filled with weapons.
I smiled as two little neighbor girls skipped past. “What’s going on, Mrs. Jeon?” one asked me.
“Garden party, girls,” I said with a smile.
I glanced at my watch. Time enough to down one for the road. I pulled my silver hip flask from my pocket, unscrewed the top, and started to knock back a slug. But then I stopped and read the inscription. It was as if I were reading it for the very first time.
To dodging bullets. Love, Jane.
Damn. A cryptic message from the past. Had it been fair warning? Had she known, even back then-even as she’d writhed and moaned beneath my touch, even as she’d whispered sweet promises in my ear-that one day the bullets I’d be dodging would be hers?
Hell. Suddenly I lost my taste for top-shelf booze, especially the kind choked down from a silver flask. I jammed the top back on. I oughta throw the damn thing in the trash. But I decided to keep it. As a reminder of what a stupid fool I’d been.
I stuffed the keepsake back into my pocket, then headed into the nearest corner bar. Suddenly I had a taste for a brewski. Something ice-cold. Something cheap, but honest.
Back in the project room at Triple-Click, the machines hummed like well-tuned Jaguars at a stoplight. And so did I.
“Okay, target profile is our priority, ladies. Full workup. Utilize all means necessary: phone taps, credit cards. Audio scan civilian frequencies.”
“With what, Jane?” Jessie asked.
I held up a tiny microcassette. Everyone gazed at it appreciatively. But as I played it, they realized it wasn’t the high-tech gadget it appeared to be.
“Hi, you’ve reached Jungkook  and Jane Jeon. Were not home right now, hut leave a message at the tone ...Beep.” The gang stared at me, but I ignored them.
“And scan all databases for-”
“For what?” Rosè blurted out sarcastically. “‘Jungkook  Jeon’?”
I opened my mouth, then shut it. I’m ashamed to admit I felt a slow blush creep up my cheeks. Damn. Of course-Jungkook  Jeon indeed! I suddenly realized I had absolutely no idea what my husband’s real name was!
How humiliating, among other things.
The girls looked at me with sympathy.
Which really pissed me off!
“Find him,” I barked.
Okay, so I was losing my signature cool. But a girl had a right, under the circumstances. “Um, Jane,” Julie interrupted timidly. “I think I found him.” My heart leaped like a leopard who’d spotted his prey. The whole crew turned to Julie.
She blanched.
“Well?” I demanded. “Where is he?”
Julie gulped. “Here.” She punched the keys on her computer, pulling up one of the many security shots we had in place. Surveillance cameras focused on the elevator doors as they slid open.
Empty! Was he hiding inside? I zoomed in for a closer view, looking for a shadow, a cuff sticking out into the camera’s view. Nothing. But wait-something glinted on the elevator floor. I zoomed in closer.
A tiny gold circle reflecting the elevator lights. A wedding band. And inside the circular promise of love, another promise: A single bullet.
Jungkook ’s message was loud and clear. “Heat-sensor breach in the perimeter,” Jessie suddenly announced. On-screen the program flashed a 3-D grid of the heating vents-and the thermal image of a man crawling through them. My eyes asked the question.
Julie pointed up. As a group, we looked at the ceiling above our heads, waiting for a sound.
I jumped as my cell phone rang. I snapped it open, still scanning the ceiling. I didn’t need caller ID to know who was on the line.
“I thought I told you never to bother me at the office,” I answered. “First and last warning, Jane,” Jungkook  said without preamble.
“You need to disappear. Now”
“And why would I want to do that?”
“Because,” he said, “I can push the button anywhere, anytime.” I couldn’t resist. “Baby, you couldn’t find the button with both hands and a map.”
A moment of silence.
“Jungkook ?”
“Now ended five seconds ago.”
We heard a metallic bounce overhead, and followed the sound, across the ceiling, down the wall, to an air vent... Hell! He wasn’t kidding! A tiny grenade tumbled out and rolled across the floor. It looked like a Happy Meal prize—a Barbie grenade. But I knew it wasn’t a toy. Milliseconds from death, there wasn’t time for my brain to get a message to my legs to get the hell out of therel
“Bang! You’re dead!” Jungkook  shouted.
The last words I’d ever hear.
A small popping noise, and a blinding flash lit the room. We scattered, a final impotent struggle.
And then … I realized I wasn’t dead.
The grenade spit red smoke and fizzled. It was harmless. We hoped. But even if it was, I didn’t think Jungkook  would give me another warning. This thing was going down, one way or another.
My way, if I could help it. “Evac Plan C!” I shouted to my crew. “MOVE!” I fell on the computer keyboard and keyed in a command: all hard drives swiped clean. My staff harvested bulging paper files and stuffed them into a burn bin. Without a moment’s grief, Rosè tossed in an incendiary device! Bye bye files.
Our myriad evacuation plans numbered far into the alphabet, but almost all specified that not a scrap of paper, not a comma, not a footprint of evidence be left behind. As I completed computer shutdown, the rest of my crew tackled what appeared to be typical office walls: With a few practiced moves, they popped open secret panels and extracted handheld launchers from their hidden compartments.
Also concealed within were buttons reserved for an eleventh hour departure: Hands hit buttons, and windows shattered in a series of explosions that blew inward, showering the office floor with icelike chunks of glass. Next my crew hooked the Kevlar cords attached to their launchers onto anchors in the ceiling. They aimed the launchers out the window, and fired grapple hooks with more Kevlar cables attached to them in the direction of the surrounding buildings.
I listened to the satisfying thkkk! as the hooks bit into nearby rooftops. Once the cords were yanked tight, the launchers snapped to the ceiling, creating taut, secure escape lines. One by one the crew grabbed slide-for-life rigs, clicked them onto the escape line, and without a moment’s hesitation jumped from the windows into the night sky-fifty stories above Mother Earth.
It was a beautiful move, well planned, and well executed, in far less time than it takes to describe. I admired my crew’s levelheaded competence and efficiency. Damn, my girls had guts. “Come on, Jane!” Rosè shouted as I was clearing the last hard drive. I shot her a brisk nod indicating that I was on my way, and she disappeared out the window.
I was alone.
I took a half-second glance around the office as smoke drifted through the shattered room. It had provided some semblance of permanence in my life, this place, and I had loved working here.
But it was time to go.
I bid the old office an affectionate adieu, then grabbed my launcher and fired.
But just as I clicked onto the cord, I thought I heard something. Turning back, I saw Jungkook  drop from the ceiling. He turned, gun raised, and made eye contact with me through the swirling smoke.
He had a clear shot.
See? I reminded myself. In this business, a half second of sentimentality could buy your moment of death. I glared at Jungkook , a dare.
He hesitated.
Just enough time to make my escape. On a heady rush of adrenaline, I leaped out the window.
I had a clear shot, but I made the mistake of looking into Jane’s steel-gray eyes.
It was not the tepid, bored, averted look of the wife I thought I knew, but a steel-gray challenge instead. Hers were the eyes of an adversary who could arrest you with a single glance.
And for a moment, I felt an overwhelming sense of arousal-and I’m not talking about the kind of juvenile jolt an impersonal Victoria Secret catalog or Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue can stir up. It was I don’t know ... it was like my whole mind, not just my body, was suddenly turned on to her: How could I destroy what I had an immediate hot desire to pursue?
When I took a moment to contemplate blowing her head off, those gray eyes sparkled and almost scoffed at me.
Then, as casually as if she were stepping onto an elevator, she fucking threw herself out the window. Heart pounding, I ran straight to the ledge and saw that she was on a guideline.
I guess the pursuit thing kicked in pretty damn hard at that moment-Hell, if I was letting this babe get away. I jumped, too.
You heard me. I jumped-even though I didn't have the benefit of a Kevlar line. Or a parachute. Man, I was free-falling from fifty floors high, making up the plan as I flew. Jane saw me, suitably stunned-and I hoped a little impressed. I also hoped she wouldn't mind a little company. I hurtled through the dark night, flying straight into her and grabbing hold of her wrists. We were now both hanging from the same rig. My added weight slowed her down, till the line sagged and went slack.
There we dangled together in the middle of her escape line, arms and legs entwined in a survival grip, fifty floors above the goddamn street, where the city’s glittering nightlife went on oblivious to our little drama. We were in limbo at deadly dizzying heights.
I think it was the height that was making me a little dizzy. Though I have to say Jane was the most delicious-feeling lifesaver I’d ever clung to before. Naturally my ego was bruised a little when it be¬ came apparent that our sudden airborne embrace didn’t affect her as much as it did me.
“You had a clear shot up there,” she said. “You didn’t take it. That was sweet. And suicidal.” Still planning to kill me, was she? Okay, so I was enjoying this little game of Twister more than she was. I slipped my hand into my pocket to grab my gun, but her hand clamped down on mine like a vise.
Damn, where’d she work out? She had a grip like a goddamn gorilla.
“You think you’d have known I was there if I didn’t want you to?” I scoffed. “You’re predictable, Jane. I can see you coming from a mile away.” She twisted her wrist, managing to slip her hand in my pocket-a move I rather enjoyed. Too bad it was my gun she was after.
“You never used to know when I was coming,” she said, “so why start now?” Bitch! I grabbed her arm and spun her on the rig, so I ended up plastered to her from behind, my lips to her ears. “Maybe it’s because you’ve begun to show an interest in me again.”
She struggled against me, but the more we wrestled, the more we ground together, in a hot, sweaty, deadly embrace.
“You know,” I growled in her ear, “we haven’t been this close in years.”
Hoo-hoo, that made her so mad, she managed to wriggle free and spin back around so we were face-to-face. Which was fine with me. Personally, I think the missionary position is very underrated.
“Don’t get too comfortable,” she grated, twisting against me. A little breathlessly, I noticed. Was that from exertion or something else? Frankly, I could have hung around like that for a while, but I was afraid we’d both pay the penalty for loitering if we didn't resolve the situation soon.
I crushed my body to hers, locking her arm against her sides so she couldn’t aim up at me with the gun.
“Don’t worry, I won’t,” I shot back. “Because you’re leaving town.”
She locked gazes with me, nose to nose, chest to chest, and . . . everything else to everything else.  Then her eyes flashed. Definitely a hot look for her. “You really expect me to roll over and play dead?” she exclaimed.
“Why not?” I shot back. “I did for five years of marriage. ”
“Six!” she hissed. I shrugged, giving her just enough leverage to pull an amazing move: arching her back, she freed her arm and leveled the gun at me.
“I’m not leaving,” she stated flatly.
In answer, I pulled a pretty fucking amazing move of my own: Swinging and kicking upward, I managed to boot the gun out of her hand. Luck and skill, if I say so myself, enabled me to snatch it from the air on its way down.
“Neither am I,” I said. I had the gun and the position. The best seat in the house, in fact. In more ways than one. Poor kid. In a last effort of resistance, she whipped out a blade. Not a very impressive one at that. I shook my head in disdain. “You of all people should know, Jane: You don’t bring a knife to a gunfight . ”
“Fight’s over, Jungkook ,” she hissed as she slashed the knife through the air-not at my throat, as I feared!
Instead she sliced at the shared Kevlar rope above our heads that was keeping us up and alive-as opposed to down there and splattered like jack-o’-lanterns on the pavement.
Fuck! Was she trying to get us killed?
In the millisecond before the severed end of the cable swung back toward Jane’s office building, I dropped my gun and grabbed onto it. I knew it was my only salvation.
Holy shit! Like Indiana Jones I raised my legs midswing as I sped toward a large office window.
Smash!!! Glass shattered all around me as I crashed through it, tumbled across the floor, and rolled up onto my feet in one smooth move. Perfect ten, man, I thought in that exhilaration that informs every atom of your body. I'm not dead! Dusting off the debris, I turned back to the gaping window and stared across the great divide. No sign of Jane.
I took a deep breath and made myself peek at the view below.
No crowds gathering; no unusual splatter on the ground either.
Amazing. She and I had both pulled our asses out of this one.
My wife was still out there, somewhere, plotting her next move.
My eyes narrowed. So be it.
I’d never faced a more challenging foe. The thrill of the hunt was still coursing through my veins. I was ready for the next phase of competition. Bring it on, babe.
I straightened out my clothes and turned to go, catching sight, for the first time, of an old cleaning lady quivering against the wall as she clutched her mop.
I actually blushed. “Sorry about the mess,” I mumbled. And I meant it.
But I didn’t have time to hang around and help her clean up.
I had a wife to kill.
It was a bold move to slash the line-a calculated risk. J But what choice did I have? I was dangling by a gossamer thread over death’s snapping jaws while carrying a lot of extra baggage-my soon-to-be ex-husband.
Who, I might add, would not quit squirming all over me. I had to do something drastic if I was going to make it out of the situation alive.
So I embraced the gamble. I was airborne. All I had to do now was make damn sure I survived.
An instant memory flashed through my mind, a virtual movie of an elegant trapeze artist I once saw when I was little. That image inspired me now. If I was to survive, I could not think of myself as rushing headlong toward a steel-and concrete building-a surface upon which I might smash like a summer bug on a speeding windshield. I had to believe that I was an aerialist en leotard, soaring above an adoring crowd (and a well-knotted safety net) toward the platform on the other side. I had to almost hear the music, almost smell the popcorn, and the elephants ...
Milliseconds later I dropped onto a balcony, so gracefully the pigeons barely fluttered as I landed. Safe! I instantly turned back to see what had happened to ... to my adversary. I gasped when I saw him. I mean really. For six years I had been a golf widow. Married to a man who thought bending his drinking arm while driving around on a golf cart was exercise that deserved to be rewarded by another round of cocktails served poolside at the club.
This man flying through the air could not be my husband. This man who swung through the air by the end of a Kevlar cord like Tarzan on a vine.
Him Tarzan, me Jane ...
Amazing. I knew from experience it wasnt easy to face a window knowing you were going to have to go through it still closed. Not that face! I thought. But he knew what he was doing. I watched him maneuver in the air to take it feetfirst.
I winced when he crashed through, worried when he went down, and was amazed when he was on his feet again in one smooth move.
This could not be the same guy I’d been living with all these—Good God! What was I doing? I didn’t want to admire this man, or salivate over his skills and physique. He was a liar, a con man, a complete and utter fraud. I couldn’t stand him! With an angry shake of my head, I wound up my Kevlar line and looped it over my shoulder, then quickly ducked to pick the lock on the balcony door. I needed to get the hell out of there ASAP and reconnect with my team.
Damn him. I hoped he hadn’t read my emotions as we dangled in midair. Or smelled my fear. Not my fear of falling or dying.
My fear of him, and the disturbing effect he was having on me. I mean, Christ. Those hot groping moments out there beneath the stars … It was the best sex we’d had in years. And it sure lasted a lot longer. I didn’t know who the hell this man was, but I knew one thing: He was armed and dangerous, and I didn’t have any kind of weapon that could protect me against that.
I took refuge again at Taehyung ’s house, where I paced like a caged tiger. Arteries pumping with adrenaline, muscles bunched, ready to spring-classic fight or-flight syndrome. But to flee or fight what? My own life for the past five years?
I felt shackled. Blinded by the intensity of conflicting emotions, I was unable to see clearly, unable to explain. I only knew I wanted to beat the crap out of somebody .
On top of everything else, Taehyung  was being a real jerk of a Monday-morning quarterback. “You had the shot . . . ?” He sat on his living-room couch in a ratty bathrobe, chain-smoking, while I sifted through a pile of equipment I'd hauled in from the burned rubble of Jane’s office.
“I’m just saying, you had a clear shot, and you didn’t take it?” I didn’t want to talk about it. So I just kept working, looking through the debris for . . . what? I don’t know . . . something. Something that would make it all make sense.
Or maybe I was just procrastinating, putting off the inevitable.
“Jesus!” Taehyung  exclaimed. “This shit’s from the goddamn Pleistocene era. Leave it overnight, we’ll have diamonds.”  
“Just keep looking, Taehyung ,” I said.
“For what? Fossils? Jungkook ny. You don’t have time to be mining here. They gave you forty-eight hours, so you got what, twenty-two, twenty-three left?” I knew I was doing a James Dean. But I couldn’t help it. I checked my watch. “Eighteen and change.”
“Eighteen hours till they close the books on both of you. Jungkook ny, no more games. You need to hit this bitch head-on-now!” I glared at him. “Taehyung . Don’t tell me how to handle my wife.”
Taehyung  shook his head in disgust. He was a real black-and-white kind of guy. “She’s not your wife, Jungkook .” I slowed down as the words penetrated my brain. “You gotta wrap your head around that,” Taehyung  said, not unkindly. “This broad’s not your wife. She’s the enemy. Trust me, she’s out there right now, scheming with her friends, sweating how to take you down take your house, the car, the cat . . . the goddamn Cuisinart-”
“Taehyung !” I said. He was losing it-heading off into the war zone of his own past relationships.
Suddenly I stopped and dusted off a tiny scrap of paper. Taehyung  moved in closer to see what it was. The tiny scrap had four letters: TZKY. “How much to buy a vowel?” Taehyung  asked. Maybe it was some kind of clue. But Taehyung  just scoffed and continued to nag me about knocking off my wife. “You just gotta do it, man.”
Yeah, but how? This wasn’t some average broad I was dealing with. Not even your day-to-day professional killer. She was good, I thought with reluctant admiration. Damn good. Not that she could ever outwit me. But she would be a challenge.
Taehyung  hit me up hard with some no-holds-barred advice. “Get into her life now . . . into her head find an in ... Go home, brother.” Go home? Yeah, right. Where the hell was that?
I slowed my pacing. Go home. Hmm. Ridiculous? Maybe not. Would she even be there? Maybe she was gone already. Or maybe she was there, thinking no way I’d ever show my face on that block again. Which would make her more vulnerable.
“And Jungkook, bring a shield,” Taehyung  warned. “A cover. Somebody to take that first bullet if she’s locked and loaded in the fuckin’ chimney.” I threw up my hands. “Where the hell am I going to find that kind of mark?”
Then I stopped, eyes narrowing. A face came to mind. The perfect shield, living very conveniently right under my nose. I wasted no time showing up on my next-door neighbor’s doorstep. We were buddies, after all, right? I rang the damn bell.
How many times over the past five years had I stood on this front porch with a bottle of wine or a sixpack of beer under my arm? Or holding a covered-dish entree while Jane gave her makeup a final check? The perfect suburban couple showing up for another benign suburban soiree. Like that last one. Showing up at the last minute, breathless, with that look in her eyes. I’d been so concerned about covering up what I’d been doing that I didn't even see what was going on with her. I thought she was a little nervous about going to the party.
Instead, she’d been fucking lying to me. Where the hell had she been that night? What the hell had she been doing? And who the hell had she been with?
The Colemans’ garden gnome grinned at me, so I gave him a swift kick in the balls. Shit. Whatever guilt I may have felt for what I was about to do was now smothered by a blinding-hot rage I couldn’t extinguish. And couldn’t quite define.
I jabbed the bell again.
Martin Coleman was unlucky enough to be home. Bad karma, man, I thought as he opened the door wearing one of those stupid white chef hats and a barbecue apron that read hot to trot.
The guy was a fuckin’ suburban moron. Aloha, I said cheerfully, slipping easily into my suburban-buddy slang. It didn’t take long to convince him to come next door with me. I think I muttered something about needing advice, come over for a drink ... He was delighted. Eager, in fact.
I realized, with a tiny bit of conscience, that in spite of all the times I’d been to his home. I’d never once invited him to mine. He practically jogged to my front porch. I carefully scanned the shrubbery for signs of weaponry aimed in our direction. But the azaleas looked clean.
I unlocked the front door and pushed it open with the toe of my shoe.
Silence greeted us.
The door swung open slowly, and I peered inside.
No sign of her.
Always the perfect host, I motioned for my shield--I mean, my guest-to enter first. Martin Coleman stepped into my home as if he were entering Mar-a-Lago or something. I braced, half expecting the front hall to explode. Or at least his head. But nothing happened.
“I can’t believe I’ve never been in here before!” Martin exclaimed, looking around with unabashed curiosity. I glanced around uneasily. Clever, I thought. Jane was going to be subtle. Lure me in, hypnotize me into letting down my guard.
I followed Martin cautiously, keeping my head low, one hand on my holster.
“I love your floors!” Martin exclaimed. “Teak?” I looked at the goddamn floors. “Fuck if I know. C’mon, I’ll give you the full tour.” We were both wide-eyed as we moved through the menacing shadows of what used to be my home-Martin in nosy wonder, me in apprehension.
“Hey, you got the Masters Cup from the country club this year.” Martin gushed, picking up the trophy from a shelf.
But I was too anxious to bask in his admiration. Slowly we made our way into the living room. Suddenly Martin let out a girlish yelp! I stooped, gripping my gun behind my back, and scanned the room, but I saw nothing. “What?” Martin pointed through the open powder-room door.
“Dulcite faucets!”
Jesus Christ! I let out my breath and waved him ahead. “Knock yourself out, man.”
As Martin darted into the Jungkook  to admire the fixtures, I stole quietly up the stairs. Gun hand ready, I pivoted into our bedroom. The bedroom, I corrected myself. You don't live here anymore, I reminded myself. If you ever did . . . After a quick look behind the door and around the room, I rifled through Jane’s drawers, looking for weapons or ... I wasn’t sure what else, really. Some kind of explanation, I guess. But the drawers were kind of empty-maybe she’d already cleaned out what little she wanted to keep from five years of marriage.
In fact, the whole place looked professionally ransacked. And I knew by who.
I moved to the closet next, leading with the nose of my gun, just in case. She’d left lots of clothes behind-costumes no longer needed from her suburban wife persona. I snagged one of her silky night things on the tip of my gun.
Oh, yeah. I remembered this one.
Before I could stop myself. I'd drawn it to my face and closed my eyes. It smelled like midnight, and rumpled bed clothes, and my wife . . . Goddammit. “She's not your wife,” I reminded myself. “She’s not your wife.”
I turned my head and spotted somebody lying in the corner-the stuffed bear she'd won at the street fair in Little Italy. Beginner's luck, she’d said. Yeah, right. Bear had had his guts ripped open.
Poor bastard. I knew how he felt.
Then I spotted something in the trash. A videotape. I stored my gun in my waistband and reached for the tape, reading the label. It was the videotape of our honeymoon. My gut twisted. “She’s not your wife ...”
“So what's your secret?”
Startled, I nearly put a bullet in the intruder before I realized it was Martin. He stood in the door¬way, staring at me.
Had he seen my gun? Had he discovered something in this house that revealed the secrets Jane and I had kept from each other for all these years?
“Come on, you can tell me,” he said slyly. “We’re neighbors.” I shrugged, feigning innocence. Persistent, Martin winked and stepped forward into the room. “How do you keep things, you know . . . spicy!” He nodded toward my hands. Jeez. I was still holding the video in one hand, the nightie in the other. I stared at them and felt like ripping the silk, smashing the plastic against the wall. But I couldn’t lose my cool in front of a curious witness. Besides, I’d played tougher charades than this.
“Well, Martin,” I said smoothly, “it’s not easy. You’ve got to pay attention to each other. Study the details-” I broke off when I spotted a notepad lying next to the phone on the bedside table. I could see the words from the previous note embedded in the top sheet.
Well, well, well.
“-and never underestimate the value of surprise.” I grabbed the pad, turned my back on Martin, and slipped a small breath-spray-size atomizer out of my coat pocket. A quick spritz of ultraviolet mist onto the sheet revealed the message: LUBETZKY REAL ESTATE. And an address.
I smiled. There were my mystery letters: TZKY. Great. Obviously Triple-Click needed a new office after their unexpected fire yesterday. How convenient that Jane had left me a change of address. I made up a quick excuse to my guest, told him I just remembered something I had to do, but promised that Jane and I would have both him and his wife, Suzy, over soon for cocktails or dinner. An easy enough lie.
I walked him back to his driveway, then made a beeline for my toolshed. Once inside its cool darkness, I locked the door, grabbed a flashlight, then opened the trapdoor and dropped inside to find . . .
Nothing?! What the-?
I couldn’t fucking believe it! My money, my weapons-everything was gone. Not even a pocketknife remained. My secret arsenal had been totally cleaned out-by Jane and her happy little maid service, no doubt.
It was just the cold shower I needed to hose down my stupid surge of romantic sentimentality. With new resolve, I climbed up the ladder and slammed the door on the emptiness.
I was a professional again.
And this was war.
I rocked back on my heels to look at the brand-new skyscraper that rose eighty-some floors into the dazzling blue sky. Somebody had some money. I checked the address on the slip of paper from Jane’s notepad. Yep. This was the place. Floor 82. I never knew the temp business was so damn profitable.
The building was still under construction, but I guess Triple-Click just couldn’t wait to move in and get to work. Plotting my assassination, no doubt. Dressed in black work clothes and carrying a beatup toolbox, I was just another blue-collar calendar hunk on his way to work, and it was easy to slip in through the scaffolding. Inside the elevator, I punched my floor and watched the numbers rise: 70, 71, 72 ... 73 ... 74 failed to light up . . . 75, 76 . . . and then the elevator suddenly stopped between floors.
I waited a moment, to see whether this was planned espionage or routine elevator crankiness. At last a male voice crackled over the speaker box: “This is security. There seems to be a problem with your elevator, sir. Would you like us to send up an engineer to take a look?”
“No, thanks,” I replied. “I'm happy waiting here till it works itself out.” There was a pause. Then: “Is that sarcasm, sir?” When I didn’t answer, the guard spoke again, far too impatiently for a mere low-wage security guard: Is it?
In fact, his inflections reminded me very much of the impatient tone of my wife in an argument. I smiled calmly into the security cam mounted on the wall. You never knew who might be watching you on these things.
Just for fun, I blew her a kiss.
So. He’d deciphered the address from the notepad I’d left lying on my bedside table at home. Now he was here. And I had no delusions about why he’d come or what he planned to do. I stared at the surveillance footage of Jungkook  stuck on the elevator between floors.
Damn. My husband always did look wicked good in black.
He’s not your husband, I reminded myself.
I had spoken to him as a security guard, my voice altered by a modulator to sound like a man’s. When he didn’t answer my question, I repeated it: “Is it?”
He lifted his chin toward the monitor and looked me straight in the eye. And I was sure-modulator or no modulator-that he knew exactly who he was talking to.
Especially when he blew me a kiss.
Damn him.
I dropped the fake voice. “This is your first and last warning, Jungkook .” Jungkook  smiled into the camera, and I thought I heard one of my younger crewmembers sigh. That crooked grin of his had always been his most effective weapon.
“You know I’m not going anywhere,” Jungkook  replied smoothly. Well, he had guts, I’d say that much for him. It had eluded me as he drank and golfed and sleepwalked his way through our suburban confection of a life together. It doesn’t take much courage to use a Weedwacker or take out the recycling.
“So you say,” I countered. “But right now you’re sealed in a steel box dangling over seventy-six floors of clear air.” We watched Jungkook  yank on the doors. They didn’t budge. Saw him check out the emergency hatch on the ceiling. Too high. “What have you got up there?” Jungkook  asked.
“Wouldn’t you like to-”
“Shaped charge on the counterweight cable?” he ventured.
“And two more on the primary and secondary brakes?”
“He found them,” Julie said, surprised.
I smiled, impressed. “Not all of them,” I told her, then I turned back to the mike. “Jungkook , did you also catch the base charge for the principal cable?” His megawatt smile dropped to half-mast. He hadn’t. “That’ll teach me to take the express.” “ You think I’m dumb enough to leave a sensitive number by 146 the side of the bed?’ I scoffed. “And I thought you were more than just a pretty face.”
That certainly wiped the grin off him. I tried not to gloat.
His face hardened, eyes boring into mine, and he shook his head. “You’re not gonna blow it.”
“Oh, no?”
We were playing a deadly game of poker; easy for me, but he was dangling in an elevator shaft.
“You think I won’t?”
“I think you won’t.”
His answer was so quick, so sure, so insulting. Suddenly my head roared with the pain and anger of his deceit. I turned to Jessie, my heart as hard as steel. And nodded. Jessie instantly hit the keys. Green lights on the screen went red. Translation: Armed. I began the countdown. “Five, four ...”
“Why count down, Jane?” Jungkook  challenged me. “If you’re gonna blow it, blow it.” He shrugged. “Three, two, one: Go.”
Smart-ass! He was poking at me, and I hated to be poked.
“Any last words?” I growled.
A wicked grin blossomed on his face. “I hate the new curtains.”
“Good-bye, Jungkook .”
If he’d been hoping for a soft heart or a governor’s reprieve, he’d just blown it. I reached for the button that would blow that goddamn arrogant face to kingdom come That face, those eyes. That body. Those lips ...
But then something happened. Something that hadn’t happened since my first time, starting out. I choked. My hand literally froze over the button. God help me, but I couldn’t do it.
I dropped my hand to my lap, horrified at myself. I knew it! Jungkook ’s smug smile said. It was unbearable. But before I could think what came next, I heard a horrible sound: Bang! Bang! Wham!
Jungkook  looked stunned as he and I realized at the same time the charges had exploded.
The two-ton elevator car was dropping like a ton of bricks. I watched in horror as the force of the fall slammed him to the roof of the elevator car. But my hand never touched that button! What the hell happened!? My head whipped toward the flashing word on Jessie’s laptop: RELEASE.
My eyes blazed at her like twin nuclear explosions.
“What?” Jessie said. “You said good-bye.”
I jumped to my feet and stared impotently at the screen. Rocked by the knowledge of what I knew was happening. Dizzy with horror . .. Quick! Maybe I could... ZZZZZtttt! The monitor hissed at me, calling me fool...
Jungkook ’s face disappeared, replaced by a blank, static void.
The car was dropping fast, speeding like a freight train toward the bottom of the shaft, the force throwing me to the roof of the car. Yet I managed to smile good-bye to Jane as I passed through the hatch and landed on the top of the falling elevator.
The vibration knocked my toolbox over, spilling its contents everywhere, causing my tools to dance wildly around. I stuck my head back in the car-the Muzak version of “The Girl from Ipanema” was playing. I couldn’t believe it. They were killing a perfectly good song. I jumped down to get a pipe wrench that was skittering around and launched myself back to the roof, where I quickly wedged the wrench against what looked like a secondary brake mechanism. It wouldn’t budge at first, then it gave way. Something happened. The car started to slow down. More and more.
Until finally it stopped. On the fourth floor. The number was stenciled on the inside of the door. I wondered how I was going to open it.
Whatever was holding us gave out then. And the elevator shot down the shaft, two tons of metal, slamming the ground with a deafening impact.
I did it. Oh, my God. I really did it.
I looked across the street at that beautiful new skyscraper as destruction erupted from its lobby doors. Construction accident. That’s what they’d call it. No one would ever know what really happened. I was not even in the building at the time. My team and I were parked a safe distance away in our black van-a mobile command center from which I’d orchestrated the whole thing.
In fact, Jungkook  had walked right past us on his way into the building and never realized that we weren’t talking to him from the eighty-second floor.
One could argue that, technically, I didn’t do it-that Jessie had set off the explosions. But I’d planned the whole thing. I’d set the charges myself. And I was the one who left an imprint of the address on a note by my bed. That clue was so fourth-grade Nancy Drew, but Jungkook  fell for it like one of those dopey Hardy Boys. The whole thing was a setup. And he’d walked straight into our trap.
So what if at the last moment it wasn’t my finger that actually pressed the key that triggered his annihilation? I’d planned to strike the key. I’d orchestrated the whole thing. The blood-Jungkook's blood-was on my hands. I felt... what? Horror? Remorse? ... Grief?
I don’t know. Dazed, mostly, like someone who wakes up from sleepwalking in the middle of a strange place. How did I get here?
I finally heard sirens screaming as cops and emergency crews swarmed toward the wreckage. But I knew they’d need no ambulance. I’m good at what I do. And I was positive there’d be no clues left behind. And no body ...
He was gone. Jungkook  ... was gone.
Police lights danced across our faces like lights in a surreal disco. Beside me, Rosè studied my expression. But I turned away before she could see what I was feeling. I was a professional. Like a heart surgeon, I couldn’t afford to feel anything if I wanted to do my job successfully.
My eyes shot back to the scene across the street. Yes, I did it.
And it was exactly what he’d have done to me if I hadn’t done it first.
She did it,” I gasped. “She really did it.”
It took a few moments to convince myself that I wasn’t in heaven-or hell. That I was still alive, hanging by my fingertips to a ledge four floors above the wreckage.
Wreckage that should have included bits and pieces
of my skull and ass.
Jesus Christ. She did it.
Somehow, I hadn’t believed that she would. That she could, in the end. But she did. Guess she figured if she didn’t do me, I’d sure as hell do her. would I have? If I’d had one last shot, would I have pulled the trigger and blown her brains out before she sent me plunging to hell?
Well, Jungkook ?
Jesus. She did it. She fucking did it.
Now. I had to tap into some of that adrenaline I was wasting on wanting to kill her and use it to get out of here-to get even.
another taxi ride through the city streets. Lights glittering like diamonds in the crisp night air.  I’d quickly showered, changed: a well-trained assassination machine transitioning out of a mission. I’d packed away my guns and computers for new tools: lipstick, eyeliner, a new dress, heels.
The cab pulled up to a curb and a doorman helped me out, and as I approached the entry to one of New York’s most elegant restaurants, I gazed at my reflection in the plate-glass window: The dress flattered me-black, feminine, sexy. I had turned back into Jane Jeon-woman, wife.
No, my heart reminded me. Not wife.
God, I needed a drink. I hurried inside, barely noticing the appreciative glances that followed me as the maitre d’ led me to my table. A table for two.
“Champagne, please,” I murmured as he seated me. “Very good, Mrs. Jeon.”
They knew me here. Jungkook  and I had dined here often; it was--had been—one of our favorite places. I blinked away the troublesome moisture gathering in my eyes and surveyed the place-part instinct and training, part curiosity. The room seemed to overflow with happy people. Friends, families, couples in love ... or, at least, with someone. I was not unfamiliar with being by myself. I’d been on my own most of my life, even as a child.
But tonight... I had never felt more alone.
I closed my eyes and took a long drink of my champagne the sparkling wine of celebration—willing the effervescence to fill my spirit. Didn’t I have much to celebrate, after all? I had survived the disintegration of a situation that was no longer productive.
Hah. That was a good line. I’d have to write it down. But really. Marriages fell apart all the time these days-over much smaller conflicts. Hell, mine had been a goddamn war—with real guns and explosives. There was no way we could have simply gone our separate ways. Ours was definitely a “take no prisoners—leave no witnesses” kind of relationship.
Till death do us part.
Funny how you never really think about those words in the passion of saying I do.
So our mad love-and-war games had been fought to the finish. I had won. And I was lucky to be alive.
But as I set my glass down on the luxurious white tablecloth, the untouched place setting and the empty chair seemed to mock me. And I could not will my heart to celebrate. Laughter invaded my thoughts, and I sought the source like a dying woman seeking water. I shouldn’t have looked: The sounds radiated from a young couple in the corner, young lovers immersed in each other’s adoration, oblivious to everything around them, including the look of pure envy I’m sure I wore on my face.
I reminded myself not to long for things I would never have and reached again for my empty glass. Reading my mind, a waiter appeared behind me to pour more champagne. “Thank you,” I murmured, blinking to clear my vision.
God, he sounded so much like Jungkook . I looked up into the man’s face-and nearly cried out! It was Jungkook ! Alive, all in one piece ... But how . .. ? Champagne like bubbles danced at the edges of my vision, tempting me with temporary escape.
But I held on and returned his gaze.
My God, he was not only alive, he looked positively devastating in a dark suit and tie. Very pulled together for a man who had just cheated death.
Most wives who’d just killed their husbands would have shown some surprise. But years of training and experience kicked in, carrying me forward on a wave until I could gain control. My hand trembled slightly as I raised my glass to my lips, but I took a long sip as if I’d been waiting for him all along.
I waited for him to speak first.
“I thought of a number of lines for this moment,” he said at last. “ ‘Thought I’d drop in ..or ‘Hey, doll, thanks for giving me the shaft..
I swallowed my champagne and casually asked, “Which did you settle on?”
His eyes bored into mine. “I want a divorce.” Oop. Body blow.
My face? Close-up, Oscar-winning performance in the devastating role of a lifetime: Turning my best side to the camera, I cocked my head thoughtfully, as if considering his choice. “I like it,” I replied. “You proposed to me here, so there’s an agreeable symmetry to it.”
Jungkook  pulled out the empty chair. “May I sit?”
As he seated himself and shook out his napkin to place in his lap, a real waiter appeared. “Champagne, sir?” Jungkook ’s eyes never left mine. “Champagne is for celebrating.” He paused long enough for me to remember: It was the same thing he’d said the night he proposed. But now he added pointedly: “I’ll have a martini.”
Jungkook ’s performance was crisp, controlled, a bit on the Clark Gable side. This should be a movie, I thought. Holding his gaze, I delivered my next line: “Better make it two.”
The waiter whisked away my champagne glass and disappeared.
As Jungkook  studied my face over the candlelight, I worked hard to appear as beautiful and as uncaring as possible. “You kept my place setting,” he said at last. “You weren’t expecting me, were you?” I shrugged. “Call me sentimental.”
“That you had time to shave?”
“That I haven’t fired yet.”
I laughed. For two people who were intent on murdering each other, we sure were a hell of a lot alike. I should have guessed he’d be packing more than the family jewels beneath his linen napkin.
Hadn’t I, the seasoned professional, done the same? On reflex, I’d sneaked a finger gun from a garterlike holster on my thigh and cloaked it beneath the napkin on my lap. At this very moment it was aimed directly at his ... brains.
“Not really,” I replied.
Thus we acknowledged that we both knew we were both packing. We smiled like enemies whose skill makes them strange comrades.
“My favorite part of dining out,” Jungkook  quipped. “Witnesses.” He smiled a truce. “Hands on the table?” Dare I trust him? I thought.
Of course not
But we were in the middle of a posh restaurant. A place where we were well known. It would be such an awkward place for a murder. Not to mention that whoever survived would never be able to get a reservation here again. Slowly I withdrew my hands from my lap and placed them on the table. Jungkook ’s actions mirrored my own. If youre not here to blow me away, Jungkook , then why are you here?
I decided to get the business part of the evening out of the way over cocktails, before we ordered. The chef here rocked, and I was suddenly absolutely ravenous. “So,” I began. “You’re here to discuss terms.”
We paused as the waiter delivered our martinis. Jungkook  knocked his back without our usual toast. Then he leaned forward as if he were telling me how beautiful I looked. “We have an unusual problem, as I see it. You obviously want me dead, and I must admit, your longevity is becoming less and less a priority for me.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “We could each open fire and hope for the best.”
“That would be a shame,” I pointed out. “I’m sure they’d ask me to leave once you were dead.”
Jungkook ’s eyes smoldered, the air crackled between us. “So the problem becomes these”-Jungkook  held up his hands, a smile teasing his lips-“and what to do with them.”
I squirmed in my seat. Jungkook  did have wonderful hands. And at the moment, I could think of several things he could do with those hands, but none of them had anything to do with our problem. It was definitely getting warm in here. And then a single note from an alto sax insinuated itself between us, tying us up in its smoky tones.
A lazy smile blossomed on Jungkook ’s handsome face, seducing one from me.
“Dance?” he murmured. I didn’t hide my surprise. We hadn’t danced once since that first night in Bogota. “I thought you didn’t like to-” “Part of my cover.”
“Was sloth part of it, too?” But he just stood, holding out his hand in invitation.
As I placed my hand in his and rose from my chair, he whispered in my ear, “Leave ’em at the table?” I nodded, and we both adjusted our linen-cloaked guns. Suddenly Jungkook  pulled me into a passionate embrace. Startled, I didn’t resist as his hands roamed my body-shoulders, waist, hips … It was the hottest frisk I’d ever endured.
“Just checking,” he said huskily.
“Not for years.”
Livid, I spun him around and shoved him up against the wall behind a potted fern. (Hours in the agency gym had given me a lot more than curves.) Pressed against him, the jazz a smoky sound track to our complicated skirmish, I forced him to endure the same maddening torture he’d performed upon me. My hands rambled across his chest, down his broad muscular back, along his marvelous hips ... into his pockets ...
I flushed. Was that a gun in his pocket, or was he just glad he hadn’t killed me yet?
Distracted, I foolishly dropped my guard, which allowed Jungkook  to escape my hold and strong-arm me onto the dance floor. I tried to twist free, but he was in control this time, and imprisoned me against the hard planes of his body.
“You think this story has a happy ending?” he whispered roughly as we began to move to the music.
I fought the pleasure of his breath upon my neck. “Happy endings are just stories that haven’t finished yet.”
In response, he spun me across the floor in a heated embrace.
And we danced.
A mating dance or a duel... who knew? Whatever it was, he knew all the steps in this wordless tango of passion, anger, regret... pain. The man was torturing me here, in full view of the world.
So I did what I’d long ago learned to do when I was hurting. I fought back.
“Why is it, you think, that we failed?” I goaded him. “Was it because we were living separate lives? Or was it all the lying that did us in?”
“I have a theory,” Jungkook  said. “Newly realized.”
“I’m breathless to hear it.”
His hands tightened on my hand, my waist. “ You killed us.” A poison dart to my heart. “Provocative,” I replied. But he’d only begun. “Your aloofness, your arctic efficiency, especially in bed-” He plunged me backward into a dramatic dip, and I hung there helplessly, in his arms, my eyes glittering with barely contained rage. “You approached our marriage like a job,” he continued, “something to be reconned, planned, and executed-not lived.”
Humiliated, furious, I hauled myself out of the submissive position and spun away, but with a yank, he reeled me back into his arms like a yo-yo on a string. And there he held me prisoner-my back to his chest, my body snuggled into his hips, his chin tucked into my shoulder.
“And you,” I shot back, “avoided it. Your drinking, your monastic devotion to pinball...” He spun me across the floor again, this time chauffeuring me into shadows, where we paused, breathless and sweaty, in each other’s arms.
He wanted me face-to-face, now, and raw. “What do you care,” he demanded, towering over me, “if it was just a cover?” He held me so tight I could barely breathe, and the words fell from my lips: “Who said you were just a cover?”
I thought he might crush me in response. “Wasn’t I?” he ground out.
I swallowed. “Well... was i?”
“You say first”
The saxophone wailed through my blood like cocaine, pounding my heart into my throat. Jungkook  impaled me with his eyes, brainwashing me with his body in a hot grinding embrace. Who is this man, and what has he done with my boring husband?
“Okay,” Jungkook  whispered. “On the count of three.”
I nodded mutely.
“One, two ... three.”
I could feel his heart beating, strong and fast, as we clung to each other, suspended there in the shadows. And for a moment, I almost thought... almost felt... almost hoped … But the words … There were no words ...
Have you ever fought your way up from a nightmare and felt your jaw lock, found your lips sealed tight, no matter how desperately you tried to cry out? That was my nightmare, there, in Jungkook ’s arms. I tried to cry out to him. But something held me back.
And every second of his silence ensured another moment of my own. Until our silence tore us apart. The cold hard truth lay between us like a sword, severing all ties, and it spoke without words. And I could see the answer in his eyes.
No happy endings.
I could no longer bear to be in his arms, and yet I could not pull away. Jungkook  seemed unable to release me. I don’t know how long we stood there. But then the music ended, people were clapping and wandering back to their tables, and the spell was broken.
Our dance was over.
For always.
“Jane,” Jungkook  rasped out, his voice cold and hard, “we can end it here or we can end it outside. But it ends here.”
“Then let me go!” I cried.
“I already have.”
His words tore my heart.
Fool. What I had thought I’d felt in his touch, seen in his eyes, was just a mirage. Real to me; nothing but a professional game of strategy to him. And at that moment, I realized what was so awfully wrong with this picture.
Jungkook  had let me go already. But I still hadn’t let go of him. And the terrifying truth was: I wasn’t sure if I ever could. I glanced away, feeling as if I were going to shatter like a champagne glass smashed upon the floor. I struggled to find the strength that had sustained me all these years.
At last I tore myself from Jungkook ’s arms and asked a nearby waiter: “Excuse me, where’s the ladies’ room?”
“Just over there, madam.”
“Thank you.”
And then I simply walked away, struggling not to stumble, not to break out into a full-fledged run. I could feel Jungkook ’s eyes on me as I left him. Felt a heat that I knew must be hatred. I had given up caring what most people thought of me long ago.
So why did this hurt so much?
She walked away so easily, as if I were a stranger she’d just picked up for a dance. How could she be so cold after all we’d just said, after all we’d just felt in each other’s arms . . .
What I thought we'd felt.
Obviously it was one-handed applause. I watched her walk away, wanting to hate her, intoxicated by her body as it swayed in that slinky black dress, her hair as it moved softly about her shoulders. I watched her, remembering how she’d smelled in my arms, like a tropical flower on a hot night.
If only she would look back, just once . . . But she never did.
My fists clenched at my sides. “Be cold, Jungkook . She's a liar. Be super cold.” The lines of a Robert Frost poem echoed in my mind: “‘Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice.’ ” To me, it felt like both.
I managed to make it through the ladies’-room door before my emotions escaped on a sob. I wasn’t even sure what my feelings were. But one thing I knew for sure. I was a goddamn fool for feeling them. I caught my reflection in the mirror but didn’t recognize the fragile, wounded woman who peered back. I looked like a runaway from a romance novel.
Sorry, sister, I told her, grabbing a tissue to erase the tears. only read James Bond.
I touched up my makeup and scolded myself for letting my guard down. I was also kicking myself for leaving my gun back at the table. That was so not me. Now what?
At the end of the room a matronly attendant leaned against the wall beside an array of complimentary toiletries: perfumes, mouthwashes, hair sprays, and lotions. Even free cigarettes. Along with the necessary matches, of course. I quickly studied the offerings.
“Good evening,” the attendant said with a smile that hoped for a nice tip.
“Evening,” I replied. And then an idea came to me. “Look what you have here,” I said to the woman as I began to pick up bottles and read the ingredients. “Do you have any idea how many of those things are flammable?” The attendant’s smile slipped a little, unsure how to respond.
I grinned and rubbed my hands together.
I was one girl who knew how to play a killer game of beauty parlor.
My eyes were glued to that ladies’-room door like a tick on a dog. No way that woman was giving me the slip. I knew this place inside and out. Yeah, I’d even been in the ladies' room.
Don't ask.
So I knew there were no windows. And I knew Jane was too smart to try for the back door-no one would dare cut through this chef’s kitchen, unless they wanted their head blown off. No way out except right into my arms, babe. I waited, glanced at my watch. She sure was taking a hell of a long time, even for a woman. I wondered if she was okay. Maybe she was more upset than that Stepford wife face of hers revealed. I was just about to go check on her when . . .
The ladies’-room attendant came flying past me like a bat out of hell, looking like she’d just seen the devil himself.
Or herself?
I reached for my gun-damn! Still on the table! Before I could turn to get it Blam! The floor shook. Chandeliers swayed. Smoke poured through the door of the bathroom. Jesus-then the whole damn room went nuts. Alarms shrieked. Sprinklers came on. People screamed, knocking over chairs as they scrambled for the exits.
I reached the table and grabbed my gun, then tried to make my way through the crowd, but the mob had become hysterical by then.
That’s when I saw her, head down, slipping by the hostess station up front. I struggled to catch up to her, barely able to move, while she slipped through the crowd like a ghost.
But I managed to keep my eye on her the whole time.
She didn’t even glance back once to see if I was still there, if I was okay. But why would she? The fireworks were hers, a cover for her escape. A celebration of her independence.
Hell if I was going to let her get away. I lifted a stout hyperventilating matron out of my way and fought toward the door. At last I made it out onto the street-only to see Jane scratch off in the Benz.
Shit! I kicked at the air, frustrated as hell. She did it again.
Now what? I stared after her, wondering what to do. I felt a timid tap on my shoulder and whirled around.
“Excuse me,” another escapee from the restaurant said apologetically, “but are you . . . ticking?” I glared at the guy. The asshole must be drunk as hell. But I didn’t have time for Tick-tick-tick . . .Goddamnsonofabitch-I was fuckin’ ticking!
It was somewhere in my jacket, but where? And when the hell had she planted it? Christ, I’d been panting over her like a dog while she’d used her hot-mama act to cover a plant. The ticking surrounded me. Screw it! I shimmied out of my jacket and tossed it Boom!
Bits of my suit coat scattered like confetti with the breeze.
The guy who’d tapped me on the shoulder squeaked from beneath a mailbox. Now I was really pissed.
I loved that suit!
I had escaped. But, what-to, where I’d done a cute Houdini act at the restaurant, but my heart was still tied up in ropes and chains.
Where could I run to from here?
I downshifted the Mercedes to take a turn. God, I loved this car, loved to drive it, especially at night. That’s when I could most easily convince myself that life wasn’t meaningless, that I was going somewhere, as long as I was moving forward, fuck it. But tonight it wasn’t helping. My lips still tasted like champagne, my hair smelled like smoke. I was a schizophrenic basket case. What the hell was I doing?
For the past six years my life had made sense. On the one hand I’d had my work, the danger, the thrill; on the other, an orderly, beautiful house, covered-dish parties at the neighbors’, and a neatly clipped lawn. His-and-her towels, and toothbrushes.
Dinners at seven.
Id always tried to file, organize, and compartmentalize my life. I’d tried to be the best agent, the best wife, the best lover . . . but given the way I’d grown up, I wouldn’t know a happy home if it bit me on the ass, so I’d designed everything after some perfect world I’d seen while peeking through other people’s windows, into other people’s lives.
Mine had only looked perfect on the outside. Somehow something was always missing, but I could never quite figure out what it was.
Now my two tidy parallel universes were all mixed up-the lines had been blurred. All files had been tossed in the air. My life was out of control, and it scared me-a thought that would have made my coworkers at Triple-Click laugh. “Jane Jeon isn’t afraid of anything,” they’d tell you. But they were wrong. This unraveling of my world frightened the hell out of me.
I clicked on the radio, searching for some mindless chatter to displace these destructive thoughts. A husky-voiced late night talk-show host was trying to help a woman who complained that the magic had gone out of her marriage. I started to change the channel, but the caller’s words made me pause.
“I do everything,” the woman complained. “I work outside the home, I hit the gym on my lunch hour so my figure’s better than ever, I put a home-cooked meal on the table every night, my kids are straight-A students, and my house-you could eat off the floor, it’s so clean.”
“So what’s your concern?” the host asked. “Does your husband drink?”
“Not more than average.”
“Beat you?”
“Cheat on you?”
“Then what’s the problem, Jane?”
Great-her name was Jane, too.
“Every night my husband sits down across from me at the dinner table and looks through me like I’m not even there.”
“Um-hmmm,” the host said. “You know what you need to do, Jane?”
“What?” I whispered, along with the other Jane.
“... you should forget the damn pot roast, send the kids to Grandma’s, and try cooking in bed, sweetheart. Stop focusing on the house! Who cares? Stop slaving over a hot stove. It’s just food, honey. You can get it at any corner deli. Listen, Jane perfect is about as sexy as the Bush administration. Sex is about wildness and mystery. It’s about disorder-even danger. It’s a terrifying ride at the amusement park that turns you upside down and takes your breath away-and if you let yourself lose control, you’ll see stars, baby.”
“Oh, but I-”
“Believe me, Jane—and all you other Jane’s listening out there tonight-if your perfect life is leaving you cold, then perhaps your life has become a caricature of your fantasy. You’ve got to shake it up a little, ladies. Lose the paint-by-numbers act and try painting like Jackson Pollock! Make a mess, for God’s sake! Leave your husband’s clothes on the floor-after you tear them off him! And another thing-”Hands trembling, I hit the search button.
A deep male voice was now saying, “... I’ll be taking you on a slow, sexy ride long into the night, with Jazz for Lovers ... And remember, we’re up as long as you’re up ...”
Give a girl a break! reached to turn off the radio altogether
when my cell phone rang.
Jungkook .
Could he be calling?
I flipped open my cell and read my caller ID. It was him. My heart danced like a caffeine overdose. But don’t ask me whether it was a good thing or a bad thing.
I hesitated, then answered the call. “Hello?”
“That’s the Second time you’ve tried to kill me.” Damn, he could run a successful phone-sex business with that voice. Thank God, I’d just slowed down for a stoplight. “Oh, please,” I said sarcastically, playing it cool. “It was just a little bomb.”
“I want you to know,” he growled, “I’m going home and burning every single thing you ever bought.”
I gunned my motor. He might as well have said I’m coming home to make love to you till you scream bloody murder, for the effect it had on me.
I smiled hungrily; I had skipped dinner, after all. The light was still red, but who the hell cared? There was no one else in sight, and maybe the radio gal was right. A little danger, a terrifying ride-
“Race you there,” I purred, and hit the gas.
Hell, she could run a bang-up phone-sex business with that voice of hers.
My pulse was racing. From danger? Excitement? Or something else? I didn’t stop to analyze it; I just knew I had to get my hands on my would-be killer before this night was through. I’d figure out the rest of it once I’d jumped her.
A black sedan had just pulled up to the curb. The driver poked his head out of the window. Limo, sir? I sized up the car. Just what the doctor ordered.
Moments later I was speeding through traffic onto the highway, one hand on the steering wheel, my cell phone in the other. Let’s just say I’d given the limo driver the rest of the night off.
Hope he doesn't get a ticket for my driving, I thought. I had a date, and hell if I was going to be Late.
Soon the road stretched out before me, taking me back to what I used to call home. My lovely wife would be waiting for me, as usual. But not as usual .
If my wife was a different woman than I thought she was, was she still my wife? I stared at the road ahead. I glanced at my phone. Eyes back on the road. Back on the phone.
"Fuck it,” I muttered, and speed-dialed.
Jane-who else would I be calling?-took her goddamned time answering.
“You’re not there yet?” she said. Not even a hello.” I need to know one thing,” I said bluntly. “The first thing you thought the first time we met.”
Dead silence. For once, no answer, no clever comeback.
I’d caught her off guard. "You first,” she said at last. Oh, hell. Not this friggin’ game again. I was sick of games. Our whole goddamn marriage had been a game. For once, I just wanted to play it straight. “I thought you looked like Christmas morning,” I said. “I don’t know how else to say it.” I thought the silence would stretch into eternity. Then: “Why are you telling me this now?” Christ. Why the hell was I? “I guess, at the end, you start thinking about the beginning.”
She didn’t speak. I could hear the sounds of the traffic coming over her phone. She must be driving with the windows down, I thought; I could picture her hair in the wind.
“I just thought you should know the truth,” I said.
Still no response.
Had she fallen asleep? Stopped for gas? Was she even listening? I wanted to shout at her. Speak to me, Jane, Goddammit! Say something!
“So tell me,” I demanded. “Truth.”
“I thought ... I thought . . .” Her voice was soft and tender now. “Yes?” I whispered. “I thought you were the most beautiful-” Her voice broke, and my chest felt like a fist unfolding. But I must have misread her. Because the tenderness left her voice and she finished with: “. . . mark I had ever seen.”
I nodded once in the dark car, digesting her words. Tasting them. They tasted like crap. “It was all business,” I said. Daring her to deny it. “From the go.”
“All business,” she said. “Cold. Hard. Math.” Just kick me in the balls, why don't you. I decided to change lanes, into the speed zone. And the pathetic-looking guy I saw in my rearview mirror as I made my move? Funny, but he looked a lot like me. I had to thank her, though. Thank her for keeping her head, and for giving me the chance to clear mine.
“Thanks,” I said briskly. “That’s what I needed to hear.” I hung up, my armor back in place. There was work to be done. No room for Hallmark cards on this job. I stomped on the gas.
Christmas morning. He said I looked like Christmas morning. We spend the last years of our marriage boring each other to death, acting like a couple of preprogrammed Animatronic mannequins from Disney World, and he waits till NOW to hit me with something like that?
I couldn’t deal with it. Passion, anger, fear-sex-I could deal with just about anything. But not a line like that. He’d left the door open, and I had looked through it with longing ... but I was too scared. He’d shown himself to be a liar of major proportions. He played deadly games with cold detached skill. I could no longer tell who he was, what was real, and what was just a devious strategy.
So in the end, something held me back.
59 notes · View notes
jkbabiey · 11 hours ago
🇵 🇷 🇴 🇲 🇮 🇸 🇪 [ 🇯 🇯 🇰 ]
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Words: 3.0 K
Pairing: hitman!Jungkook x medstudent!reader
Warnings: angsty; smutty; kinda toxic; toxic parents; bad parenting; drugs; abusing parents; bullying; there are tons of heavy themes in this one
Song Rec: Been Through - EXO; Rosario - EPIK HIGH, CL, ZICO; Loser=Lover - TXT; This Love - Camila Cabello (really recommended)
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"Drink up man!"
Jimin was Jungkook's best friend. He worked at the bar where everything took place. Jungkook's boss had his single office in the bar and he owned it. Jimin himself did some dirty jobs sometimes - such as manipulating drinks.
It wasn't a pretty world the one these two lived in. They knew that better than anyone. None of them necessarily liked their job but they knew it was way more complicated leaving it than actually doing it. They weren't willing to discover what actually trying to leave this world took because rumors spread fast and they weren't good to hear.
But tonight, Jungkook was celebrating his new position as the head of his unit.
There wasn't a proper team in the organization - everyone worked alone and preferred it that way. But there were, in fact, a few hitmen in the job and they formed a unit- - Jungkook was now in control of it.
"I think I'm drunk, Jimin," he slurred word after word back at his friend that kept bringing more and more shots of tequila.
Jimin was probably the only person Jungkook could trust in and outside this world, besides you. They met when they were still children and instantly hit it off and became buddies. Jimin had lost his parents very soon - even before he met his best friend. He spent his whole childhood and teenage years in an orphanage. He had actually been adopted once but was quickly returned to the place he lived in before - too much trouble to a newlywed couple in their early thirty's.
Jungkook didn't lose his parents and he didn't grow up in an orphanage. His mother gave birth to him at home, in the bathtub, while his dad was passed out on the couch.
His mother was a junkie, she wasn't a proper mother, she just brought him to life - and sometimes, Jungkook even questions if that had been the right thing to do. She didn't raise him, spending most of her kids' childhood absolutely high. His father was just the same, and to make it worse, he was abusive of his mother and sometimes, of him and his brother.
It was hell at home. The windows of his room were broken from a bottle of whiskey his dad had tried to throw at him. His mother never made lunch or dinner. The only time she was sober was in the morning, and even then she was hungover.
So if there wasn't a present mother or father, who took care of Jungkook? His older brother, Yoongi. Yoongi was a troublesome kid, bullying some kids at school and even Jungkook himself. He wasn't exactly the ideal brother or son, but he did breakfast for Jungkook and when he took money from his parents in secret to buy lunch and dinner, he also took some for his little brother.
Things actually started to take a bad turn when Yoongi turned sixteen and his father started to ask him to go buy drugs for him. Yoongi was quickly sucked into the illicit world, which was exceptional for their parents, that once found out about their son's new occupation, started to oblige him to bring a pack of drugs home for them, every day.
Jungkook preferred to stay out of that, always focused on the only thing that could ever allow him to have a decent life - school. Jungkook was a great student - the brightest kid with the best grades in class. He even dreamt about being a lawyer, once in his life, and he had it in him to keep working on school towards that dream.
But when his parents started to rob the older brother and take the drugs he hid at home to sell later, Yoongi saw himself in deep trouble with the underground crew he worked for, as he kept asking his leader for more drugs to sell but wasn't bringing any money back. When he was confronted with that and asked to explain why, he couldn't explain - no kid would ever denounce their parents like that. So he was told to find a solution.
The only solution was to beg his little brother to help, selling and hiding the drugs in his room - there was no way a nerdy kid would ever hide drugs in his room.
Jungkook agreed. As the innocent kid he was, there was no way he would deny his brother's request when he kneeled in front of him with a tear-washed face.
Jungkook started selling, being presented to Yoongi's crew as his "solution". The crew welcomed him in and made sure he felt like he belonged there.
At only 14 years old, Jungkook managed to sell more than his brother and brought much more money in. He was a discreet, fast-thinking, and agile kid. It wasn't shocking at all to see how well he did in the industry.
His talents could be better-used though. When Jungkook turned 18, the boss - the one that had the office in the bar and that every single worker was afraid of - called him up to have a word.
He offered to exchange to another of the company's units. That's when Jungkook, appalled by the enormous raise of salary, went from a drug dealer to a hitman. Everything in Jungkook pointed to either a very boring teenager, or a serial killer - he was discreet, didn't have friends, besides Jimin, that worked in the same company, and no one knew him. He didn't have fame, a reputation, be it good or bad. No one knew Jeon Jungkook.
Either the most boring human being on earth or a slayer.
He did amazing in the job, going through a long process of actually being able to kill and not freezing in place when it actually came to doing it. The first times, that's what happened and Hoseok, the head of the department at the time, had to supervise him and make sure he did it right, always saving the day when he couldn't and never letting a victim escape from Jungkook's shaky hands.
Jungkook's hands weren't shaky anymore. He did get used to the coldness that ruled the world of killing, losing all feelings when it came to doing the job. He became a completely different person when he killed - almost not a person at all.
"My little brother!" he heard someone - that he knew exactly who was - yelling in his ear. "Finally made it to the top, huh?"
Jungkook looked at his brother, Yoongi, and nodded lightly, the grin of happiness on his brother's face was bigger than his and he couldn't understand how people still considered this kind of stuff so great. If he could, he'd be out of here and this world in a second.
"Congrats, you baby!" Yoongi added, slapping his brother's back and rubbing it in an affectionate manner. "So, how's our little girl?" he whispered.
He was talking about Y/N. "She was good last time I saw her"
"Yeah? Gonna celebrate tonight?" he winked and Jungkook rolled his eyes in hidden disgust.
"I broke it off last week," he mumbled, watching as Yoongi's small eyes widened.
"What?" he screamed, almost, and Jungkook quickly shushed him. "Don't tell me she found out about us! You know she'll denounce the crew in a heartbeat if she knows anything"
"She doesn't know anything," Jungkook lied. "Just got bored." Yoongi looked at his brother with suspicion clear in his eyes. "Look, I've been with her for a year now. I've made sure she won't tell anything that happened to anyone, what's she gonna say? 'a faceless man cornered me after killing someone a year ago? She didn't even see you. Even if she wanted to she couldn't say anything."
You did know almost everything but he knows you wouldn't say anything. Jungkook knows you wouldn't stand to see him behind bars and he wasn't worried about spending the rest of his life in jail because you wouldn't betray him like that, ever.
"if you're so sure," Yoongi answered, after pondering over the topic for a minute.
"Hey! Did you tell the boss anything about her?"
"Just told him you had a girlfriend when he asked me why your numbers were down."
"Nothing else?"
"Nope," he answered, reassuring his brother.
Jungkook looked ahead, at his best friend, that was already staring with a knowing and worried look in his eyes.
"Drink up."
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You had beautiful eyes.
You could do anything you wanted to Jungkook by just looking him in the eye. And you looked pretty when you cried.
So, Jungkook was smitten. He was smitten to you as soon as he opened the door of his apartment and was faced with your teary brown eyes. You came in, not caring to wait for Jungkook to actually let you in. You gripped his neck, trying to hold him close. Jungkook held both your arms and tried to keep you away, but you just settled for his arm, gripping it and holding it against your torso.
"Jungkook, p-please don't leave me!" you begged and Jungkook tried freeing his arm from your tight hold. This just led to you kneeling down and hugging his leg, like a four-year-old. "Please Jungkook," you cried and Jungkook sighed, noticing how his own eyes were already teary.
"Y/n please, it's better this way, for both of us."
It had been about five months since he left and you still hadn't been able to get over him - you didn't even think you could.
So you cried. You just cried and wouldn't answer him regardless of the many times he called your name and tried to get you to let go of his leg. Jungkook reached down, picking you up from the floor and holding you in his arms. He took you to the living room, sitting down on the couch, with you on his lap. You hugged him tightly, your arms around his neck and your legs straddling his. You buried your wet face on his chest and he distributed small soft kisses along the skin of your neck.
"It's alright baby, it's gonna be alright" he mumbled and waited till you calmed down and your sobbing stopped.
Jungkook didn't get over you just yet and to be honest, he was still far from it. He still loved you just like the day he left, probably even more. So he couldn't just leave you crying on the floor of his apartment without doing anything or kick you out of it when you looked like this - miserable.
You were wearing an old sweatshirt of his and some leggings. Your hair was down and your curls looked messy. You were rocking some very deep dark circles and your lips were chapped. Jungkok hated himself for still finding you beautiful and for actually being happy to see you, even if it was like this.
"We can work this out together," you tried to convince again after months, looking up with your red eyes fixed on his and your eyebrows raised. Jungkook knew you were trying your best to make all of this look brighter - less scary.
But you couldn’t.
Jungkook picked you up once again, sitting you on the couch, next to him. "I kill people for a living," he said slowly as if talking to a little kid and watched your eyes fill up with tears once again.
You stood up, suddenly looking more angry than scared, sad, or anything of that nature. “That’s bullshit Jungkook,” you gritted and looked at him with tears running down your flushed face once again. “You’re just saying that because you don’t love me anymore,” you said and continued, completely ignoring the way Jungkook ironically laughed at your conclusion from this situation. “You’re making all that up so you have a fucking reason to leave! Because that’s what you want! You want to leave!” And before you knew it you were screaming already, your voice screechy and desperate - angry yelling in his face “But if that’s what you want, just fucking say that and leave! Don’t be a fucking coward, just be honest and say you don’t love me anymore-“ that's when you were suddenly interrupted by the realization of just how miserable you were, being cut short by your own sobs, breaking down right in front of your ex-lover. You kneeled down on the floor of the living room, in front of the couch where Jungkook was sitting. Taking your own hands to cover your face in pure shame, you let out the loudest sobs Jungkook had ever heard from you.
He quickly stood up from the couch, kneeling in front of your shrunk figure, and took both your hands in his.
“Do you think I want any of this?” he asked, after forcing you to lock eyes with him. “Y/n, I’m in love with you, have been for years now. I haven’t loved anyone as much as I love you.”
You looked him in the eyes and then at his plump red lips, slowly getting closer and closer until your lips were inches away from Jungkook's.
Jungkook reached up to rest his hand on your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin. You finally closed the gap between the two of you, pressing your lips against his. He instantly let out a small whimper, remembering the missed feeling of kissing the love of his life.
You rolled your arms around Jungkook's neck, who picked you up and laid you down on the sofa. You wrapped your legs around Jungkook's waist, and trusted your hips up, groaning at the friction. Jungkook buried his face in your neck, distributing kisses and you could only imagine the dark bruises you missed so much forming on your skin. You, greedy and missing the feel of your lover's skin against yours, reached down to take his shirt off.
Quickly all your clothes were messily splayed across the living room's floor.
There was a sense of desperation in the way you both gripped each other. Neither of you knew whether this was the last time you felt each other this intimately or not and that made it even more intense. You missed each other and it was notorious.
Jungkook licked a straight line from the bottom of your neck to your stomach, passing through the valley of her chest. Hearing the way every slight touch provoked the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard coming from you, he sucked the bundle of nerves on your core and inserted two of his finger inside you, feeling you gripping his dark locks. He looked up, locking eyes with you and seeing how fucked up you looked. He was hard and the sight wasn't helping - you, naked, wide-opened mouth, wet lips, and half-lidded eyes.
"I-I'm coming, kook," you whimpered and he fastened the pace of his fingers inside you, sucking your clit harder. He heard you scream in relief, electric shock waves running through your body. Jungkook pushed himself back up and locked his lips to yours.
You felt the taste of your orgasm fresh on his tongue and moaned against his mouth.
"Let me take care of you," Jungkook whispered after you tried to switch positions to stay on top. And you did. He rubbed his cock against your core,placing his fingers, that were previously inside you, on your mouth, making you moan loudly, after sucking your own cum from his digits. You raised your head, kissing his neck and sucking the skin on it. You wanted to leave marks. You wanted Jungkook to remember this night - whether it symbolized your last night together or the first one where both of you were aware of all the raw truth and stood absolutely naked and vulnerable for each other.
You gasped when he suddenly slipped himself inside you, staying still for a few seconds to let you adjust to his size - which a few weeks ago would be the perfect size for you, but now felt way too big. After a short span of seconds, Jungkook was passionately pounding inside you and you were both moaning, whimpering, and growling like wild animals.
Among every time you and Jungkook had had each other in this way, this had been the most profound, feverish, and emotional you had ever felt with him. You had touched places in each other you had never before, and poked emotions neither of you even knew you felt.
Jungkook was the love of your life, you were more than sure about that before tonight but the time you shared just enlightened that even more for you. Jungkook's heart, on the other hand, was shattered and kept on getting worse each day that passed. He loved you, he did. More than anything. But he knew there was no way this story could have a pretty ending for either of you.
Jungkook had already understood there was no way you would be able to stay away from each other - the love you felt was too fiery and your bond was too deep to be broken just like that. But he also understood that love stories in the criminal world weren't rare - after all, criminals were also human and had feelings. Anyone could fall in love and no one could control who, when or in which situations they did. But facts are facts, and in the illegal matter, love isn't easy to deal with. In most of the love stories he knew or had heard of along years of practice in this world, things always get out of control, most of the time ending in heartbreak, death, or both. People in charge had the job to prevent any damage to go further than necessary - and wouldn't look at the means in order to reach the ends.
Your story could never end like he wished it did - you smiling, with a ring on your finger and a baby in your belly.
32 notes · View notes
hamsterclaw · a day ago
Double Team (Part 4)
Seokjin and Jungkook are your business partners. You solve problems for the city's elite, albeit by unconventional means. Your professional and personal relationships have always overlapped, but that's never worked against you before. At least, not until now...
Pairing: Jin x F!reader, Jungkook x F!reader
Rating: 18+
Genre: Non-idol AU, smut, angst, pwp
Warnings: Sexually explicit content, explicit language, questionable morality, polyamory, unexpected pregnancy
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Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Jungkook stretches out on the sofa in your office.
‘Take me to dinner,’ he pleads with you.
‘We’re in the middle of discussing a case,’ Jin says sternly.
‘I’ll take you to dinner baby, we can dress up and everything if you want,’ you say to Jungkook. ‘Just let Jin finish.’
Jungkook rolls his eyes and sits up. ‘We’re basically playing Downton Abbey but in real life,’ he says, huffing. ‘Can we go now?’
You can’t hold back a giggle.
Jin frowns at you. ‘Fine. We’ll brief tomorrow morning.’
‘Wanna come to dinner, Jin?’ you ask. You smooth his forehead with your fingers. ‘My treat.’
Jin sighs. ‘Only if we go somewhere nice,’ he relents.
You slip on your black strappy heels just as the doorbell chimes.
‘Coming,’ you call out. You take a quick look in the hall mirror and open the door.
‘Oh Kookie, you look gorgeous,’ you sigh. He does. He is in a white dress shirt tucked neatly into black trousers, a black suit jacket over his shoulders. His hair is styled, a rarity for him, swooped back from his forehead to show off his handsome face.
‘You look beautiful,’ he tells you, rather sweetly. He leans forward to kiss you, hand smoothing over the silk covering the top of your ass. ‘You always do.’
‘Keep going with that and you might get lucky,’ you tease.
He gives you a crooked smile. ‘I’m taking you out baby, I’m already the luckiest guy here.’
‘Love a good fuckboy line,’ you say. You put your hand in the crook of his arm and he leads you down to his car.
Jin leans forward from the back seat. ‘He wouldn’t let me go out to get you or sit in the front,’ he complains.
You pat his hand. ‘You look so pretty Jin, I’m the luckiest girl in the world.’
He does look wonderful. He is wearing a black three-piece suit with a black shirt, and has slipped the jacket off. He’s wearing the half-rimmed glasses he actually does need but doesn’t always wear, and like Kookie, his face is flawless.
Jungkook opens your door for you, and you walk with him and Jin into the restaurant.
Jungkook slips his arm around you. ‘Want a bao?’ he asks you, quietly.
‘Always,’ you reply. ‘Hobi’s baos are the best.’
Jin pours you and Jungkook some wine. ‘Is Lady Park still calling you?’ you ask Jungkook.
Jungkook grins. ‘Does she want me or Miao Miao though? I’m conflicted.’
Jin snorts. ‘She didn’t even give me a second look, Jungkook. She started groping your ass the instant she met you.'
‘We all love Jungkook’s ass,’ you say.
Jungkook gets up and does a slow turn to display the ass in question. You and Jin applaud him.
Hobi comes up. ‘Ah, are we admiring Jungkook again?’ he asks.
‘When aren’t we?’ you ask, laughing.
Hobi chuckles at you. ‘How much have you had to drink?’
‘Not so much that consent is an issue,’ you say immediately, turning to give Jungkook and Jin meaningful looks.
Jungkook nearly chokes on his wine.
Hobi chuckles. ‘That guy, Jimin, stopped by last week asking about you.’
‘Who’s Jimin?’ Jungkook asks.
Jin rolls his eyes. ‘The jewellery heist toy boy,’ he says to Jungkook.
‘Oh, the guy who has your panties,’ Jungkook says. He narrows his eyes at you. ‘If you’re just giving them out, Y/N….’
You turn to Hobi. ‘What did you tell him?’ you ask.
Hobi shrugs. ‘I told him he'd have to join the queue.'
‘You didn’t Hobi,’ you breathe, finding this hilarious.
‘Yeah,’ Jin says. ‘You should have said her standards are very high – only incredibly handsome men need apply.’
‘Jimin is handsome, my love, but not as pretty as you,’ you say.
Jin beams at you. You wonder if your hinting at a threesome with Jungkook has put him in a better mood.
Hoseok nods to a passing waiter. ‘I’ll catch you guys later.’
Jungkook splits a bao in half and hands you a piece. ‘For old times sake,’ he says.
You munch it down and catch him staring at your lips. ‘Take a picture, baby, it lasts longer,’ you tease.
Jin has already finished his meal. ‘Let’s go for dessert,’ he says, signalling for the bill.
‘Can I eat dessert off your gorgeous bodies?’ you ask. Jungkook and Jin exchange a glance.
‘Best idea you’ve had all year,’ Jin tells you, lips brushing your ear.
Jungkook puts an arm around you. ‘Sounds good to me, baby,’ he agrees.
You are propped up against Jungkook’s hard chest as Jin licks you out.
Jungkook’s big hands are fondling your tits whilst he nuzzles your neck. You can feel his erection pressing into your back.
Jin looks up at you from between your legs, and you feel a wave of desire for him at the erotic sight. His lips are shiny, slick with your arousal. ‘God, you always taste so good,’ he tells you.
‘Let me taste,’ Jungkook grunts. He presses his face between your legs, licking up into you.
You push him down on the bed, turning around so you can take him in your mouth. Jungkook’s hips buck as you take his cock in your mouth, sucking him all the way in.
The head of his cock hits the back of your throat, and when you swallow, his hips jerk again.
‘Fuck,’ he swears. You cup his balls, lifting them up to your face, trying to get your nose pressed in the space between his balls and his cock.
Jungkook yells and you feel his warm cum spurting into your mouth. You swallow, trying not to spill any, and Jungkook’s deep groan into your cunt makes you clench.
You pull off Jungkook, and he immediately pulls you to him, kissing you deeply. He’s always loved kissing. Jin’s arms come around you, and you reach down to stroke his erection.
‘Ready for me, baby?’ he asks. You lie on your back, and Jin climbs on top of you. You lift a leg to his shoulder, and he slips into you, rocking back and forth a little until he is all the way in you.
‘Jin,’ you cry, and he bites the calf that is on his shoulder. He actually bites so hard you squeal and pull your leg away. The movement of your leg shifts Jin deeper into you and then you are both moaning.
Jin thrusts into you, hard, rough.
He turns you so you are on all fours, slamming his cock into you, his hands gripping your hips so hard you know they’ll be bruised. Jungkook turns over so he’s under you, touching your face.
Jin grunts. ‘She’s not as delicate as you think, Jungkook. Look how well she’s taking my cock. She wants to be fucked, hard.’
Jin’s words have you clenching around him, and when he slaps your ass, hard, you cum.
Jin hisses. ‘You like that, baby, don’t you?’
He slaps your ass again, and you almost feel like you could cum again.
Jin knows it.
‘Cum again,’ he commands. He slaps your ass so hard you cry out. Jungkook kisses you, whispering soothing words into your ear. The juxtaposition of Jungkook’s sweetness and Jin’s hardness has you cumming helplessly again.
‘Good girl, that’s my good girl,’ Jin breathes. You feel his thrusts driving into you, fucking you hard until his hips stutter and he cums inside you. You flip over, Jungkook’s arm coming up to cradle you to his chest.
Jin lifts himself on one arm. ‘Let me see,’ he says. He spreads your thighs apart, and you watch as his cum oozes out of you.
Jungkook licks his lips, fisting his cock, pumping once, twice. His eyes meet yours.
‘I’m gonna fuck Jin’s cum back into you, baby,’ he says, husky and low.
In response, you place both hands on your thighs, spreading to let him settle his hips in between.
‘Ohh,’ you let out a deep moan when Jungkook pushes into you. He fucks up into you, arms coming up under your knees, bending you in half.
He drops down, kissing your chin, your neck, as he thrusts into you. ‘Fuck, Kook,’ you cry. You clench around him, and in response he slams his hips against you so hard you almost see stars.
You wind your hand around his sweaty neck.
‘God, you’re so good, so good, harder, Kook,’ you say, and suddenly he is cumming, a low whine erupting from his chest as he grinds himself against you.
Jungkook collapses on top of you. Jin is already up, his nude body sending another tingle through you as he leaves and returns with a glass of water. He hands it to you, helping you sit up.
‘Kook, stop squashing our girl,’ Jin says good naturedly, pushing at Jungkook’s shoulders. Obediently, Jungkook rolls off you the rest of the way, and you moan as his softening cock slips out of you, and a gush of wetness slips out from between your legs.
You take a gulp of water and offer the rest to Jungkook.
‘Thanks, my love,’ you say to Jin. He smiles at you.
You smooth Jungkook’s hair back from his face. ‘Rest, baby.’
Jungkook looks at you sleepily. ‘Cuddle me later?’ he asks.
‘Yes,’ you promise.
You and Jin go to the bathroom to get cleaned up. Once clean, you slip out into the kitchen to make you both tea.
You give Jin a big hug when he comes out of the shower. You drop a kiss his broad shoulders, and he hums.
‘Kookie always misses out on post-coital tea. It’s the best,’ you remark.
‘He wants to give us some privacy, baby,’ Jin says. He looks at you, amused. ‘It’s like how I go to the spare room so you can cuddle him after. It’s our arrangement.’
‘No way,’ you muse. ‘You discussed who would do tea, and who would get cuddles?’
‘It wasn’t as awkward as you might think. We both want you,’ Jin shrugs. ‘This way we both get to have pieces of you.’
‘Does it bother you?’ you ask. You nuzzle his chest. ‘Maybe one day you’ll find another girl and I’ll be the one with only a piece of you.’
Jin looks down at you. ‘I hope you know by now that this is it for me. You and I are together. If I have to share you with Kookie to have you then that’s what I’ll do.’
You kiss his neck. ‘You’ll always have me, Jin.’ You hug him again.
Once your tea is cold you slip into the room, climbing into bed with Jungkook.
‘Hey, beautiful boy,’ you say, when he cracks an eye open. You help him clean himself up, then snuggle up to his warm chest.
‘I asked Jin if he’d get sick of me and sharing,’ you tell Jungkook. Jungkook kisses you, arms so tight around you, you can barely breathe.
‘And?’ he asks.
‘I’m worried he’s more into you than me,’ you joke. You snake a hand around Jungkook, squeezing his pert ass. Jungkook jerks and you feel his cock twitch against your belly.
‘Oh, again?’ you ask, voice husky and teasing.
‘Can you cum again?’ Jungkook replies, already nipping at your neck.
‘Can you make me?’ you ask.
Jungkook laughs then. ‘I’ll make you cum or die trying,’ he promises you.
He’s a man of his word.
It’s been a few weeks since your last case. You were paid handsomely for it and you have taken a few shifts at Hobi’s since then, so you’re flush.
You are also pregnant.
You stare at the pregnancy test you have just peed on, your heart thumping in your chest. The number of weeks tallies with your debauched night with Jin and Jungkook.
Of course, it does.
You dial Jin’s number. He’s out with his brother, but he answers instantly.
‘Hey, what are you up to?’ you ask, voice trembling.
Jin’s concern is immediate. ‘Are you ok?’
To your surprise, you burst into tears. ‘Jin I’m pregnant,’ you blurt out.
To his credit, when Jin speaks, he sounds totally normal. ‘Ok. I’ll come and get you. Where are you?’
He sounds like you’ve just finished a hair appointment and have asked him for a lift.
You have time to compose yourself in the half hour before he gets to you.
Jin arrives at your flat and engulfs you in a hug. ‘I’m here with you,’ he says, firmly. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’
You look up at him, warily, not sure how he’ll react to the next bit of news.
Turns out he has already thought of it.
‘The night at Hobi’s restaurant,’ you say. You can barely look him in the eye.
‘Hey.’ Jin says. His hand tips your chin up so you’ll look at him.
‘We’re all grown-ups,’ he says. ‘Does Kook know?’
You shake your head. ‘I’ll call him.’
Jungkook sounds a little breathless when answering the phone.
‘Baby?’ he asks.
‘Can you come over?’ you ask.
Jungkook pauses, and you hear a female voice in the background.
‘I can in a couple of hours,’ he replies. ‘Do you need me now?’
In front of you Jin is nodding furiously.
‘No, a couple of hours is ok Kook,’ you reply. ‘Call me when you’re free.’
Jin grabs the phone from you. ‘Hey Kook, Y/N’s pregnant. Call us when you’re free,’ he says bluntly. He hangs up.
‘Dammit, Jin,’ you sigh. ‘I’ll still be pregnant when he finishes fucking. Let the boy have a little fun.’
Jin smooths your hair back from your flushed face. ‘Baby, if this isn’t the most important news Kook is going to get today then I don’t know what is.’
It takes Jungkook twenty minutes to get to your flat.
Like Jin, he goes straight to you for a hug.
‘Are you ok?’ he asks, and the concern in his voice makes you tear up again.
‘I’m pregnant. The times line up with that night at Hobi’s restaurant,’ you tell him.
Jungkook swallows. ‘Oh. That’s ok. How are you doing?’ he asks. He glances at Jin.
You take a step back. ‘So I guess I’ve told you two now. We should probably talk about things, it doesn’t have to be now. Shall we give it some time to sink in?’
You are babbling, you know you are, but suddenly you can’t stand the careful looks any longer.
‘Sorry I interrupted your day with your brother, Jin,’ you say. ‘And sorry I interrupted you, Kook.’
You take another step back. Both men are watching you.
‘Fuck. Can you guys go now? I just need a bit of time. I just found out today. I probably could have left it until Monday, couldn’t I?’ you say. You can’t stop talking.
‘God I’m sorry. You know I’m on birth control. I have no idea how this happened. I don’t think I’ve missed a dose,’ you say.
Jin takes a step towards you, and you hold out a hand to stop him from coming any closer.
‘God, I’m so sorry,’ you say. You blink back tears. ‘I’m sorry.’
In two long strides Jin is holding you. He looks at you a moment. ‘Have you had breakfast, love?’
You shake your head miserably. ‘I’ve been sick. It’s why I took the test.’
Jungkook and Jin exchange a glance. ‘Let’s get something to eat,’ Jungkook says. He runs a hand through his hair.
‘Why don’t you guys go. I just need some time to process. I shouldn’t have cried on the phone to you,’ you tell Jin. ‘I was just shocked.’
Jin’s arms feel gentle around you. ‘You did the right thing calling us, even if you did interrupt JK getting his dick wet.’
Jungkook smiles at you, charmingly. ‘I said I’d meet her for dinner. See, you aren’t even interrupting my sex life.’
Jin scowls at Jungkook but stops when he hears you giggling.
‘Come on,’ Jin says. He slips a jacket on you and wipes a smudge of mascara off your cheek.
Your teary eyes blink up at him, and he can’t resist dropping a kiss on your forehead.
‘I said I’d look after you,’ he tells you, eyes serious. ‘I meant it.’
©hamsterclaw 2021
47 notes · View notes
btswriter112 · 2 days ago
Treat You Better/9 + End
Pairing- Jungkook x Named Reader
Genre- Smut
Word Count- 2.7k
Includes- Sex, Semi Public Sex, Wall Sex, Riding
Notes-💓👍🏻Joanne = y/n
Yes I use the same name for the female character for every story. I'm that lazy. And I don't like writing in the "you" style. Saw this name and liked it so here it is. Joanne is not the same character in every story....that'd be weird
I've read that some people are uncomfortable with y/n and would rather have an actual name. It's also easier for using nicknames in the stories. Feel free to substitute your name and attributes instead of the character's, since it's meant to be you💓👍🏻
Series Masterlist
Inspired by song, Treat You Better by Shawn Mendes
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I'm sitting on a couch with her on my lap. We're at the after party with the guys. It's the same place as last year. But this time it's better because this time, I'm here with my fiancee
I still can't believe she said yes. I've never been so elated in my life. Twitter was going off the whole night, with pictures and videos of me proposing being posted every five minutes. I save the pictures and videos because I have none
After I proposed the guys came over and congratulated us
"You knew?", she asks surprised
"Of course we knew", Jimin exclaims
"Who do you think helped him narrow down rings?", Tae asks
"Or helped him plan this? You think he'd pull this off on his own?", Hobi laughs
"Hey", I protest but end up smiling
During the show, she was right next to me. I wouldn't let her be separated from me. Security probably hates me with how much I argued with them today. But she was next to me, holding my hand or my arm around her. We watched the performances together, with her singing to the songs she knows, smiling and talking to me about them after
I kissed her when we won awards and included her in any speech I was part of. She was backstage with us while we got ready to perform. Then she was sitting right in front of the stage while we performed. I couldn't take my eyes off her the whole time, watching her singing along and smiling her gorgeous smile at me
And now I'm holding my baby, having a good time with her and the guys. She moves around, getting more comfortable on me. But the moving is making her ass rub my cock, making me hard
"Baby, stop moving", I whisper in her ear
"Oh sorry Kookie", she apologizes
"You're making me hard baby"
"Yea? Good", she smirks
"Good?", I ask, raising my eyebrow
"Yeah Kookie. We can sneak away and have fun. If you want", she says innocently
If I want? Of course I want
"Now", I whisper. She gets up
"I'll be back", she says then walks away
I watch her go through the doors in the back. I need to wait a few minutes. It's going to kill me
"Just go Jungkook", Namjoon says
"What?", I ask looking up
"Oh cut the shit. We're not stupid. Just go. Have fun. Don't let anyone catch you", Yoongi answers, waving me away
I nod, then get up following her
When I walk pass the door, I look down the hall. She's halfway down, when I call her
She turns around. She smirks when she sees me, walking backwards
"Wait baby"
She bites her lip, shaking her head, "Come get me Kookie"
She turns back around walking quickly. Fuck I want her. I walk faster. My legs are longer than hers, so I get to her faster than she thought. Grabbing her arm, I spin her to me, crashing my lips to hers
Slamming her against the wall, I slide my tongue in her mouth, her hands frantically undoing my pants
"Kookie...I....I need you", she moans
As I pull her dress up, my pants and boxers fall to my feet. I easily pick her up, her legs wrapping around me. Holding her against the wall, I pull her panties to the side and thrust inside her hard
"Yes Oh fuck!", she cries
I smirk at her. I've gotten so much better since that first time we were together. I know her body like the back of my hand. And I love making her scream
"Mmmm baby, so wet for me. You want me this much?"
She bites her lip, nodding. She knows how much that little habit of hers drives me fucking insane
"Give me that fucking lip", I growl, my lips on hers in a fucking millisecond. I listen to her moans, slamming in her fast and hard
"Fuck Kookie", she moans, so tight on my cock
"Hmm my baby girl's pussy is holding me so tightly. You wanna keep me inside?"
"Yes Jungkook, stay baby". Fuck yes I'll stay. I love being inside her
"Harder Jungkook", she cries, her arms tightly around my neck
"Open you legs more baby and I'll give it to you", I whisper kissing her neck
I move my hands down to her thighs, holding her up that way, as she unwraps her legs from my waist, opening her legs and giving me more room. I slam in her harder, making her shout
"Better baby?" She nods, whimpering
"You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?", I demand
"Yes Kookie, I'll be a good girl"
"Good baby"
Slamming her again, causes her to scream and her legs shake as she cums
I love hearing her scream my name..Her pussy throbs on my cock making pleasure crash all over me
"God baby,'re pussy feels so good", I moan
"Again Kookie"
"Again baby?"
"Yes Kookie again. I want to cum on your cock again. Please. I want it", she pleads. Fuck it's such a turn on to hear her beg
"Ok baby girl. You can ok? I'll make you cum again", I moan. Still moving in her, she cums in less than a minute
"Yes good girl", I praise her. I pull out of her and put her down
"No Jungkook, come back", she whines
I grab her wrist, dragging her into one of the rooms Closing the door, I bend her over the table that's there. Ripping her panties off, she opens her legs and I bury myself inside her
"Fuck Jungkook!" Her pussy squeezes my cock so tightly
"Don't let go baby", I order
"Keep you're pussy tight on my cock. Don't let go"
"I won't Kookie. Now fuck me!", she yells. Sliding all the way out until just my head is in her, I pound back inside her hard and fast
"Yes fuck!", she screams
Pounding mercilessly in her over and over, pleasure hits me hard and I listen to her screams. God she feels so good. She always does, she always turns me on so much. Just her..She starts moving, slamming back on me just as I slam back in. I go in so fucking deep, smashing into her spot
"Fuck!", she yells, orgasming instantly
"Yes baby girl"
We move again, with me constantly thrusting right where she loves it
"Kookie! Again!"
Ramming inside, she explodes again
"Oh god Jo", I moan, "I'm...."
"Yes Jungkook. Do it baby", she urges
I don't know how but she gets even tighter and I can't take it anymore
"Baby! JOANNE!", I shout coming, my body shaking, the pleasure intense. I pull out and she turns around. She kisses me and I kiss her back. I can never get enough of her kisses
"Baby's still hard", she whispers
"Kookie wants more of me?", she smirks
She hops up on the table, her legs open. She pulls me to her. "Gimme. I want my Jungkook's cock now"
Jesus she's fucking sexy. She holds my cock, guiding me inside her again. Then she grabs my hips, pulling me closer to her, sliding me inside until I'm all in. Her body shivers, pussy clenching me instantly
"Fuck baby", I whisper, "You want me bad too?"
She kisses me, her arms around my neck. I kiss her back, wrapping one arm around her, my other lifting one of her legs. I start moving again, starting slow and increasing my speed with each thrust, kissing her neck, chest, shoulder, collarbone anywhere my lips can land
She starts moaning, her hands moving to my arms gripping me tightly. Opening her legs more, she leans back a little. Hitting her hard, I find her spot again, then concentrate on slamming there. I start playing with her clit while I fuck her hard
"Oh my god Jungkook!", she screams
"Yeah baby. Cum on my cock baby. I want to see it.", I groan
Using my other hand, I pull her dress down, sucking on her nipple. It's like that's what she needed because as soon as I do that, she screams coming hard
"Good fucking girl", I gasp from the ecstasy I'm feeling
Looking down, I watch her cum on my cock as I slide in and out, and I'm right there
"Cum Jungkook", she moans
Hearing her I let go, releasing inside her. "Fuck baby! Fuck"
Oh god, it feels so good. I pull out breathing hard
"Fuck Kookie"
I look behind me, grabbing a chair and sitting down. Shit I'm fucking sweating and hot
Glancing up at her, she's still sitting on the table, with her legs open. She's hunched over, hands on her legs, trying to catch her breath
My eyes look right to her pussy. I take a sharp breath, watching my cum leak out from her. And I feel myself get hard again. When she looks up at me, her eyes widen
"Again Kookie?", she asks
"Yeah", I answer, not taking my eyes away from her pussy. I don't know why this is such a turn on
"Kookie what are you looking at?"
"Uh", I answer
She looks down, then back up, "Damn Kookie I didn't know you had that kink"
"What?", I ask
"You like watching you're cum leak out. That's a kink"
I didn't know that. I guess I do have it. She move her hand, sliding her fingers inside herself. What the fuck? She pulls them out, covered with my cum. I watch her lift her hand and put her fingers in her mouth, sucking my cum off them
Holy motherfuck. She just got me so much more horny
"Mmmm, my Kookie tastes so good", she moans
I almost fall off my chair. She's so fucking hot. Putting her fingers back, I watch her lick more of my cum off her fingers with my mouth dropped wide open
"Ffff.....fuck", I whimper
She smirks at me, "Does Kookie wanna cum in my pussy again?"
"Yes baby, yes. Please. I want to", I beg, "Let me"
"I will. If you let me ride you."
"Yes. Yes, fuck yes", I burst out
I love when she rides me. I get to watch her fuck me, she's so fucking gorgeous
She smiles, "Aww you want it that much?"
"No I want you. I want to feel you.", I answer, "Now get on my cock baby"
She hops down, coming over to me. She sits on me, straddling me but doesn't put me inside her. She kisses me, her tongue sliding in my mouth. Fuck. I kiss her back. She starts unbuttoning my shirt
"Baby-", I start
"I need you naked baby", she whispers in my ear, "I want to see your sexy body, feel your skin on mine"
Yes. I want that. She gets my shirt open and off, then takes off the undershirt I have on. Kissing her again, I unzip her dress, pulling it down. She stands up, off me, letting the dress fall off her body
God damn, I love looking at her naked. I can never look away
"Come here Jo", I call
She comes back, straddling me again..She starts kissing my neck where I love it, making me whimper
"Fuck, I love hearing you Kookie."
She kisses down to me shoulder, across my collarbone, to my chest
Her lips leave fire on my skin, feeling so goddamn good
"Please baby", I plead. She looks in my eyes. "Please put me in. I need you"
"I need you too baby", she answers
She finally slides down my shaft, pleasure blasting my body. Once she gets all the way down, we both sigh
I belong here, inside her. We're perfect for each other
She smiles at me, then starts moving, sliding up my length, then back down, squeezing me tightly. Over and over and over, the pleasure just flows everywhere
"Fuck Jungkook", she moans
She moves faster, and when she comes down, I thrust up, going in deep
"Yes Jungkook", she cries
I slide my hands up her body and in her hair. Gently pulling her head back, I plant kisses all over her like she did to me- her neck, shoulders, chest, everywhere
"I love you", I whisper
"I love you Jungkook", she answers. She moves harder on me
"Harder baby?", I ask, thrusting up
"Yes Kookie. Please baby"
"Anything you want my love"
I slam up into her, making her cry out. Grabbing her hips, I move her up and down, slamming her down when I go up
"Yes, fuck yes", she shouts
The pleasure is overwhelming and I'm just lost in her
"Holy shit", I hear but all I can focus on is her
"Jungkook, JUNGKOOK!", she moans loudly, holding me tightly to her, shaking when she cums
"Oh my god, oh my god", I yell, feeling her, "Baby, JOANNE!"
My mind goes blank as I cum, holding her down on me, feeling her hands run all over my body, my face in her neck
"Yes Jungkook, fuck, I love feeling you cum", she whimpers
When I finish, I lift my head to look at her. She smiles at me, moving hair from my eyes, her hand sliding down, cupping my face
"I love you so much", she says
Fuck. I can feel it. I can feel her love for me. It blows my mind everytime
"I love you. More than anything", I answer. Pulling her to me, my lips land on hers in a gentle kiss
"Oh my god", I hear
We pull apart immediately, our heads snapping to the door. There's a girl standing in the doorway gaping at us
And next to her is Wonho, completely stunned
I pull her to me, covering her body as best I can
"What the fuck?", I snap
"Holy shit.", the girl babbles
"Why are you watching?", I shout, angry
"I didn't mean to. I couldn't...look away"
"Get out!", I snarl
The girl jumps at my tone, turns and runs. I turn my gaze at Wonho and I can't help it
I smirk at him
She's mine now, not his and he saw me give it to her good. And he heard how much she loves me. I feel her run her fingers in my hair, then kiss my cheek. When I glance at her, she's smirking too. He looks away, grabs the doorknob and closes the door
She and I look at each other and start laughing
I kiss her then ask, "Ready to go back to the party?"
"Yeah Kookie"
She kisses me again, then gets up and we get dressed
"Where the fuck were you?", Namjoon asks when we get back to them
"What?", I ask, sitting down, pulling her next to me
"You were gone for over an hour!", Hobi exclaims
"Really?", she questions, "It didn't feel like an hour". She smirks
"Oh gross stap!", Tae says, making a face
"Well what did we miss?", I ask
"Not a damn thing. Ignore them. They're just upset they're not getting any.", Yoongi answers
"Shut up!", Jimin snaps
"Well you are"
She and I laugh
"Oh you two shut up too", Jimin rolls his eyes
I put my arm around her, and she leans against me. While we talk, Wonho passes us. He looks at me. I just smile, then kiss her temple, staring him down. She looks up at me, so I move my gaze to her.
She's smiling at me, then leans in kissing my lips in a sweet kiss, full of love. Then she goes back to talking to the guys. I raise my eyebrow at Wonho, smirking. He looks away and continues to walk by
I don't care. He fucked her over so many times. I'm glad he knows she has someone who loves her more than life, who treats her way better than he ever did
"Kookie", she calls
I'm pull out of my thoughts and turn my attention to her. "Yeah baby?"
"Jinnie asked you a question"
I turn to Jin and join the conversation, holding on to my fiance, the love of my life
I can't wait to spend our entire life together
Bonus- Wedding Dress for Wedding
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Read with gifs here
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fanficfreek · a day ago
Your Eyes Tell | JJK | 101
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JungKook sat on the set and scrolled through his phone. He stopped and typed something, searching through the results. He then shook his head and did it again.
“Understanding Sex Drive During Pregnancy,” Jimin read aloud from over his shoulder.
He huffed and closed his eyes before dropping his phone. “Damn it,” he growled.
“Is that really a problem?” he mumbled.
“You have no idea,” he rolled his eyes and looked up at him.
Jimin’s eyes widened just before he walked around the sofa and plopped down next to him. “Tell me more.”
“Please… just don’t,” YoonGi snipped from the chair across from them.
“Ugh…” he threw back his head. “I can’t tell her no.”
“Why would you?” Jimin frowned at him.
“Bro…” he caught himself before rubbing his face. He just nearly avoided a makeup catastrophy. “I’m not complaining…”
“I am,” YoonGi mumbled.
“Okay, okay,” Jimin grabbed his phone and read the article. “Ooh. They call it the ‘Honeymoon Period’ because… wow. I had no idea all of that went on.”
“More blood means more blood flow, which means more sensitivity, which means…”
“Sexy Noona 24/7,” TaeHyung joined them and smirked. “Are her boobs getting bigger?”
“I am so done with you,” YoonGi threw a shoe at him.
JungKook nodded his head.
“My sister will be raising two children, then,” YoonGi glared at JungKook.
“Four, counting us,” Jimin teased him.
“I would just like to meet the men who always say sex goes away after you get married, because that couldn’t be further from the truth.”
“Maybe that’s because you’re not married,” YoonGi shot back.
“Soon,” he smiled at him. “One thing at a time.”
Logan shot up from bed, gasping for air as she grabbed for her throat. Her shoulders began to shake as she cried, reliving yet again the one moment in her life that changed everything. She hated that girl for holding the power over her to leave her in a screaming, sobbing puddle every time she tried to sleep.
“Fuck this,” she wiped her face and blew her nose before reaching for her phone.
“Did I wake you?”
“My shift just ended,” he sighed. “Again?”
She rolled her eyes to the ceiling and swallowed down more tears. “Please.”
“You are no longer a PA or an employee here, I could get fired for doing this.”
“I’m sorry to put you in this situation… I just had another nightmare and knowing she’s still there makes them go away for a while.”
He sighed as she heard typing in the background. “She’s still there. She had an episode last week and has been on tranquilizers since. You are completely safe, Logan.”
“Thank you,” her lip trembled.
“How is your hiatus coming along whilst in lockdown?” he chuckled.
“Living the dream,” she couldn’t help but laugh. “Adding to the population.”
“What?! Wow! Congratulations! How… is that possible?”
“I don’t know. I was extremely ill at first and the doctors in Edinburgh think it’s because my immunity was so weak. They went ahead and gave me two iron infusions to make sure my blood was strong enough. It was fairly dramatic.”
“But everything’s fine?”
“So far, so good.”
“Well… I’m happy for you. Are you continuing to see your psychotherapist?”
“Online, yes. Video chats have replaced all contact now.”
“Yet another good reason you’re no longer here. PA Lee was admitted to the virus ward this morning.”
“Oh no.”
“Please keep yourself safe.”
“And you as well.”
She sat back after speaking with him and relaxed into her pillows before dialing once again.
“Appa,” she whined.
“What’s wrong, my princess?”
“Do you know if that noodle place near the river is still delivering?”
“I don’t think so. The one near the school is.”
“I don’t like that one, they put weird shit in their sauce,” she complained.
“Hold on,” he lost the phone to her mother.
“What do you want?”
“Black bean noodles.”
“You’re going to get fat.”
“Isn’t that the point?” her phone buzzed and she looked down. “Oppa’s calling.”
“Are they working today?”
“Every day,” she sighed.
“I’ll call you when we leave the house.”
“Thank you, Eomma!” she switched over. “Eomma’s making homemade black bean noodles. If you time it right…”
“I’m on it. Be there in a bit.”
The call ended as she looked down at her phone. “That was easy.”
YoonGi frowned as he unpacked the bag of food on the bar and stared at his sister. “Why is your face swollen?”
“Ramen,” she looked away for a moment before pulling two bottles of water from the refrigerator.
“After this, you won’t be able to see at all,” he smirked at her.
“Probably not,” she tried to perk up.
“No, there’s something else wrong…”
“I’m fine. Just… stupid dreams.”
“Ah. How would you like to get out of the house for a few days?”
“You have my attention.”
“It’s done. It’s finally done.”
“Your mix tape?” her ears perked up. “Can I hear it?”
“Yes, but that’s not my point,” he handed her chopsticks. “I want you in my video.”
She stared at him. “What?”
“You’d be sitting, holding a jewelry case in your lap. You’d be in there for like five seconds.”
“What about oppa?”
“He doesn’t even want to come to the set. Someone told him one time that I was better looking than him and he hasn’t come back since. I already know you’re prettier than me, so it’s no big deal.”
She burst into a snicker and grabbed the bowl before walking off to the table. “I should probably post something on my Insta today, then.”
“Probably,” he sighed.
“Why are you here, but Kookie’s not?” she spoke with a mouth full of food.
“He and Jimin are working on a song. They went to the dorm because we got kicked out of the office.”
She cocked her eyebrow. “Why?”
“Someone in a nearby building tested positive and they’re disinfecting the building.”
“So you brought it to me?”
“I haven’t been exposed. I follow the ‘PA Dunn’ protocol,” laughed while speaking.
“I approve,” she smiled before taking another bite. “Ah. Eomma rocks.”
“Yes,” he sighed happily before turning his eyes back to her. “So… dreams?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You probably should.”
She rolled her eyes and sat back. “I call JinYoung occasionally to make sure she’s still confined. That usually helps.”
“Is that even legal?”
“No,” she chirped.
“That’s not like you.”
“That’s totally like me, you just haven’t been paying attention,” she nodded at him. “I wish there was something to zap the memories.”
“Until that’s invented, you have to learn how to retrain your brain’s reactions to those memories.”
“Stop talking like me,” she whined.
“Someone has to,” he grinned at her.
She stared at her bowl of noodles before looking back up at him. “How is he?”
He turned serious for a moment before letting out a sigh. “We’re all struggling in different ways. He’s coping fairly well, better than some of the others. He has you and the baby to keep him busy.”
“I haven’t quite told him… everything. The more doctors I see, the worse my nightmares are. I’m afraid he’s going to find out when I have a meltdown.”
“And what happens if you end up in the hospital?”
She rolled her eyes around the room.
“When is your next infusion?”
“Next week. About a week after each one, it feels like my entire skeleton is throbbing. I just don’t want him to worry any more than he is.”
“But if you talk about it, your nightmares may go away.”
She closed her eyes and leaned back against her seat. “The baby’s healthy. I can feel her move. I just need to relax.”
He stared at her before giving in and nodding his head.
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venusiangguk · 3 months ago
the art of doubting | jjk (m)
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>>pairing: jungkook x reader / dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc
>>genre: friends with benefits, smut, a lil bit of fluff, angst
>>word count: 17k -.-
>>warnings: dom jk, sub oc, age gap, dilf jk stuff: asking for permission, saying thank you, sexual tension, gross domestic flirting 🙄, push up kisses, orgasms, oc getting overwhelmed bc jock is too gewd <3, oral (m), rimming !!, mirror sex, one (1) spank, jreampie <3, tummy bulging (kinda? he presses on her tum to feel it?), praise, dirty talk, encouragement, showering together, kisses 😚, ex wife has arrived, mentions of divorce, a lil bit of sad talk about nari :(, nari is two now!!, misunderstandings, arguments, jk lowkey got some issues he needs to work thru lol, he thinks in extremes, oc is in love </3, a very drastic 180 occurs
>>notes: ex wife arrives and literally makes everything explode lmao
this is part of my dilf jk series that can be found on my masterlist
>>summary: seeds of doubt are planted and unfortunately they grow faster than love. things with jk fall apart.
Soft grunting groans filter through the air as you slowly make your way down the stairs to the lower floor. Not really a basement, more of an indoor workout cave.
Jeongguk’s shirtless on the bench, pulling weighted arms down on the machine, the muscles in his back rippling and straining with every pull down. He sees you in the mirror as soon as you walk in, his eyes lighting up and a small winded laugh puffs from his chest.
“Hey— hang on… almost— done…”
You shift on your feet a little, watching him through the reflection. The sight you see is a little too obscene to just be a work out, you feel like. He’s not sweaty yet, probably just started, but his face is a little red from the excretion, and his lats are on display as he does the repetitive workout over and over with clenched teeth and breathy grunts until his body gives out. He catches his breath for a moment, shakes his arms out.
“You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked,” you say, tiptoeing over to him and stepping over the plastic baby weight on the mat. “Also why do you do so many at once… looks miserable.”
Jeongguk laughs softly, looks up at you with his doe-eyes when you’re close enough to rest a hand on his shoulder. He’s warm to the touch.
“I usually don’t but I’m the only one here, and I knew it was you coming. Also my phone is charging upstairs so if you texted when you got here like normally, I would not have known.” he explains. “I tend to focus more on longer sets with lighter weights, than shorter sets with heavier weights because it helps keep muscles lean… I’m not trying to bulk up right now.”
You tell him that that makes sense even though you really have no clue. Just know that whatever he does to stay fit works. “Nari at her mom’s?” you ask.
He nods, standing up to go over to the pull up bar on the side of the machine. Wiping his hands on the tiny workout shorts he’s wearing, he jumps a little, and then wiggles his fingers on the bar to get a good grip. “All yours till Friday,” he says, cutely.
Rolling your eyes playfully, you correct him. “Till tomorrow afternoon. I have work… might get a raise soon.”
You wander around a little as Jeongguk goes on about how you should already be getting paid more considering you have a college degree, but you tune him out, knowing he’s trying to be on your side and make you feel better. A marketing degree won't get you far in a grocery aisle, and you both know that, but it’s sweet of him to try.
Instead, you opt to take in your surroundings. You’ve been all around his house of course, but you’ve not spent much time in the workout dungeon.
It’s fully equipped, and fully mirrored, with the flooring being that of wrestling mats to cushion dropped weights or baby stumbles.
On one side of the room there’s an elliptical, a treadmill, a rowing machine, a bench press, basically one of everything that you would normally see in a gym. But on the other side, blocked off by a baby safety gate, is a mini little workout zone filled with mini weights, those foam blocks that you normally find in a child’s gymnastics zone, and a little dance bar along the mirrored wall.
You smile, thinking about Nari holding onto the bar and doing that funny little squatting move of hers. “Are you going to put her in dance?”
He looks at you through the mirror, no longer doing pull ups, but just watching it seems. Seated on one of the benches with a water bottle in his hand, resting between his spread legs. “Ballet I think,” he says, “Me and her mom were talking about it. She thinks it’ll be good for Nari’s coordination…” He gives you a humorously exasperated look, “I just think she’ll look cute in a tutu. Though I suppose coordination would be helpful… she’s a bit clumsy.”
“She is only 2,” you point out, walking over to his side of the room again. “Was the party fun?”
It was on Saturday, just a few days ago. Jeongguk said it was fairy themed much like most of the baby’s things. You saw the pictures that he sent you, Nari adorned in a pair of tiny pink wings, her cake in the shape of a mushroom. The kids all got tiny bottles of ‘pixie dust’ to play with, shimmery bubbles floating through the air.
There was a woman in one of the pictures, blowing a bubble into Nari’s delighted face, her own smile matching that of the baby. She obviously wasn’t the focus of the photo, and you doubt that Jeongguk even realized when he sent it. But you already knew who the woman was anyway. The pictures around Jeongguk’s house were enough to tell you, even if he never explicitly stated it. And you know it makes sense and that it’s normal for her to be there, with Jeongguk at their daughter's birthday, but something settled into the pit of your belly when you looked at that picture. You haven’t been able to shake it yet.
Jeongguk’s voice brings you back. “Yeah it was fun, you got the pictures right?” He seems excited. You laugh a little, reminding that yes, you did see. You responded to them after all. He grins sheepishly as he goes to another machine, “Don’t be sassy, or I’ll eat the piece of cake we saved you.”
His sentence warms your heart. The fact that he was thinking about you, keeping you in mind. Reminds you of the bittersweet message you received from him on Saturday while he was at the party.
Wish you could have come
It took some effort, and you’ve done your best to not think about the fact that you could have, if he had asked you to. Saturday was your day off.
“What flavor is it?”
“Funfetti, obviously.” Jeongguk rolls his eyes, grunts quietly as he does another rep.
“Obviously,” you mime, with a small chuckle.
Conversation flows smoothly, just like always, everything seamless between you both. While most people wouldn’t probably get annoyed at someone hovering, Jeongguk seems happy to be near you, glad for the company. You sit beside him as he gets to the ground for some push ups.
He gets about three in before you’re laying flat on your back, boredom making a thought pop into your head.
“Do them over me.”
Jeongguk falters mid-way up, glancing at you with a suspicious look. “Why?”
“I wanna help,” you reason.
“Not sure being on top of you will be helpful,” he murmurs, but appeases you nonetheless, side walking on his hands and the balls of his feet until he’s over you.
You both give each other closed lip smiles as you try not to laugh. Jeongguk lowers himself, and you sneakily place a sweet kiss on his cheek.
“I knew you didn’t want to be helpful,” he says, his voice laced with faux annoyance. He does another one and receives another kiss. “You want to be distracting.”
“I’m not being distracting, I’m providing incentive.”
“I can’t even go all the way down, your tits are in the way.”
“You are so ungrateful.”
He smiles with his eyes as he goes down again, his nose brushing yours as he nuzzles into your cheek briefly. “And how are you providing incentive?”
You hum at the feel of his warm breath on your ear. “The longer you hold your plank, the longer you get to kiss me.”
“Who says I wanna kiss you?” he teases, voice soft as a feather as he does another push up.
“You always want to kiss me,” you tell him, just as quiet, tension radiating off of you as you readjust yourself, your legs opening so that the next time he drops down, he’s not just over you, but between your thighs as well. “And you haven’t yet…” you remind him as you drag your acrylics over his bare back, smiling at the way he shudders and at the way his arms buckle.
He grins, looking at you like you’re unbelievable, yet everything he wants right now. “Between you and Nari, I can never get anything done.”
You hum, “I just think you need to reevaluate your priorities, maybe.”
“And what do you think my priorities should be, __?” he whispers, eyes searching your face, lingering on your lips, a fond look coloring his features.
“Well, right now,” you start, looping your arms around his neck, “I think you should really focus on that plank, and on that kiss you’re dying to give me.”
Your teeth click before your lips lock because of how much you both are smiling.
But once lips lock, it doesn’t take much for Jeongguk to collapse onto you. Doesn’t even try to hold the plank, instead just melding his body to yours, the inside of your legs clamping around his waist. He goes from having his hands flat on the mat to bracing himself on his forearms, his knees hitting the mat between your legs. You use some of your weight to bring him closer, the slowly swelling front of his work out shorts pressing into the crotch of your leggings.
You work your hips, rolling them slowly up into him, in time with the slow, molten kisses he licks into your mouth.
Jeongguk’s always easy for you, but today he seems to be fighting himself, playfully fighting how bad he wants you. It’s the principle of the thing. To prove a point. The point being that you’re distracting, his weakness. His hips rolling into yours, only to pull back. He lips pressing hard against yours, only to pull back. Just for him to do it over again, just for him to give in like you both know he wants to and will. It's after a particularly hard rut against you that he peels his lips from yours, panting softly, how worked up he is so apparent in the way he can’t stop his hips.
“You’re going to kill me,” he whispers, his nose brushing against your cheek before he sinks his teeth into the apple of it like he just can’t help it, can’t get enough of you.
Your manicured hands cup his cheeks, as you nod and guide him back into a wet kiss. “Want you in my mouth,” you moan against his lips.
Jeongguk pulls back with a light blush on his cheeks. “Are you sure? I was just working out–”
A kiss cuts him off as you slowly start to sit up, him going with you. “Barely broke a sweat, and I don’t care,” you tell him, hands gripping at the elastic of his waistband, “just want you.”
Jeongguk laughs softly, grabs your eager hands, maneuvering to his feet and pulling you with him. It’s then that he strips you of your shirt, your bra. His hands come to cup your bare tits, rolling them in his palms as he brings his lips back to you, all while he toes off his shoes, as well as his socks with a little difficulty and stumbling, but not without sweet laughter filtering in through the kisses.
He makes his way down as he pushes your pants down, his lips latching to a nipple, making you mewl under the light flicks and the soft sucks, hands coming to his hair to keep your balance as you rid yourself from the stretchy material. His hair gets pulled when you’re free, and he’s biting his lip at the tugging when he blinks his eyes open to look at you again.
“Sit on the bench,” you tell him, hand slipping from his locks, and down to his flushed chest. You press lightly, backing him up to the benchpress machine that’s not too far behind him.
The bench is propped up, a reclined sitting position under the secured bar above, resembling more of a chair than the typical flat board of most bench presses.
He gingerly sits down, keeps his eyes on you the whole time, watching as you lower yourself to your knees, settling between his open ones. His cock is hard and pink, up and laying flat on his lower tummy. It pulses when you place your hand on his thighs, long nails running down.
You both smile a little because its funny in a stupid way, but your pussy pulses too, getting slick between you legs at the way Jeongguk responds to you. How eager he is for you, how the mere feel of your hands on his thighs is enough to make him throb in anticipation of what else is going to come, of how good you’re going to make him feel.
“Wanna make you feel good,” you say quietly. Your gaze flicking between his face and the flushed, shiny head of his cock in your hand.
He bites his lip when you slowly start to work your hand on him, his foreskin sliding over the wet tip of his cock, and when you rub the pad of your thumb on the under part of the head, you watch as his head tilts back, his eyes slipping shut, and his mouth exhaling a soft sigh. You squeeze your thighs together at the sight. Jeongguk is so responsive, pliant as he settles into the bench, hot and heavy in your hand.
“Put your mouth on it,” Jeongguk requests, eyes lazily shut.
When you oblige, Jeongguk sucks in a sharp breath, his back arching a little off of the bench behind him, his hips pulling back like the feel of your lips suckling on him is too much, too good.
You pull off with a little pop, holding his cock close smiling against his length. “Why are you trying to get away from me?”
Jeongguk gives you a crooked grin, looking down his nose at you with hazy eyes. “Keep going,” he says softly.
Humming against his length you begin to place heavy, wet kisses down his cock all the way to his balls. The kind where your tongue licks him before your lips suction softly. Then you lick all the way back up with the flat of your tongue, your lips wrapping around him, your head bobbing a few shallow times. Jeongguk keeps breathing those sweet, soft moans. So relaxed and relishing in the way you suck him off. He’s not pulling away anymore, instead trying to keep from bucking into your mouth, you can tell by the way his lower belly tenses.
When you go down a little farther, sucking his balls into your mouth, you moan at the way he whines, at the way his legs subconsciously open wider as you alternate between lapping at him, and teasing him with light circles from the tip of your tongue. He breathes praise, telling you how good it feels. It makes you want to make him feel even better.
His legs spreading wide for you gives you the idea to trail a little farther down, stray off the path of your usual blowjobs. You start with your fingers, something he’s used to and loves. Massaging that spot behind his balls with deliberate little pets, you moan softly when he pulls his legs back just slightly, barely lifting his feet off the ground so you can touch him better.
His brows are pinched, and his mouth is open in a silent moan, his expression one of pleasure and arousal as he brings his hand down to his cock. He slowly tugs at himself, watching as you bring your mouth back to his balls. He’s nodding, eager and encouraging, his hand speeding up.
“You’re–,” he moans, his head rolling back along with his eyes, “My baby.”
Laughing a little you pull back, focusing on just massaging him. He seems extra responsive today, his praise and sentences jumbled and hardly coherent.
“Keep licking,” he moans.
You hum, going to appease him but right before you suck his balls into your mouth you pause. He notices, brings his eyes to you with a questioning, needy gaze, his hand still working over his cock.
You place a chaste kiss to his balls and then one a little lower. Jeongguk jolts, and questions you with a gaze, but he doesn't stop you.
In all honesty, you don't know what you’re doing, have no clue why you even want to, but the desire to make Jeongguk feel good and curiosity spurs you on. He likes your fingers, maybe he’ll like your mouth there too.
Your eyes hold a question in them as you gently, wordlessly push his legs back some more, more of him on display than you’ve ever seen before. Jeongguk grows a little red, but his hand hasn’t stopped, and he just pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, watching you as you kiss on the backs of his thighs.
He’s tense, like he’s just waiting for you to do it. With your breath hot on his taint, you look at him once more, and he gives the slightest nod, permission to continue. His eyes are heavy and he licks over his red bitten lips, and when you press another one of your chaste kisses against him, his brows furrow and his mouth parts and he cranes forward, like he wants it so bad, is so eager that he can't contain it.
The first lick over him makes him gasp, and he breathes the most salacious, “Yeah–” as his legs get pulled back even more.
You smile at him with your tongue out, giving tentative licks to that spot he loves. Your hands are on his cheeks and you pull back some, looking at him with a grin.
Jeongguk groans, a laugh coloring it as his head falls back to the bench kind of like he’s a little bashful about being so worked up. His free hand pushes through his hair before rubbing over his face, eyes finally meeting yours again. “You’re so hot down there,” he tells you.
You purr, pressing your thumbs into his cheeks opening him up a little more. A quick wet lick is placed over his hole and he breathes out a harsh sigh, craning his neck so he can look at you, his tummy tensed.
“Is this what you want?” you murmur against him, getting a little more confident, the tip of your tongue flicking over the cinched muscle.
“Yeah, fuck…” he whispers.
The hand he has on his cock squeezes at the base for a second before he makes a ring with his thumb and index finger focusing on the tip of his cock with quick little strokes. The hand he doesn’t have busy pulls his thigh back a bit more.
As your tongue works over him, he chants over and over again, tells you how hot you look, how good your mouth feels, how wants you to keep going. It’s when you point your tongue a little, just barely pressing into his rim that his hand goes to the back of your head.
He holds your face to his ass, pushes you into him as he melts into the chair, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths that lilt up at the end.
“Good girl,” Jeongguk moans, his eyes blinking open hazily as he looks down at you again.
Your eyes smiles at him as you continue to work your tongue, little wet noises willing the air as you eat him out. When he removes his hand, you lick from his hole to his balls, repeating the action a few times, making Jeongguk almost tremble.
“Your dirty girl?” you ask him quietly in response to the praise he just gave you, giving him tiny little kitten licks over his hole.
He gives you a lustdrunk smile, licking over his lips. “Yeah, all mine.”
“What do you want?” you kiss into his taint, eyes big as you look up at him.
“Just a little more,” he whispers, his thumb spreading the precum leaking from his tip.
You get a hold of the hand on his pulled back thighs, guide it back to the back of your head once again. “Take it then,” you tell him, “take more from me.”
Jeongguk lets out a shaky breath, biting his lip as he pushes your mouth back to his hole. “Look so hot licking my ass,” he breathes, barely audible over the wet licks you’re giving him. He kinda shakes your head, his brows furrowed and his jaw clenched as he sucks a breath through his teeth. “Oh my god–”
When you point your tongue and press past the little resistance, Jeongguk’s mouth drops open and his brows arch upwards, and his eyes roll a little before he squeezes them shut, pushing and pulling on your head just barely, making your tongue fuck him.
It's kind of abrupt when he pulls you back by the hair, his legs coming down again. It’s abrupt when he kisses you. Deep, his tongue licking into your mouth like he doesn't care that you were just licking into him, making him pant, making his cock leak. It’s abrupt when he breaks the kiss. He’s still close, breathing you in, giving you one last soft little peck before he leans back again, his demeanor expectant.
Both of his hands are on your head, and he’s guiding you down, taking what he wants from you just like you told him to. His cock is so hard, flushed and angry looking as it stands, just waiting for your mouth.
It's a swift and quick motion when he pushes your head down, the tip hitting the back of your throat almost immediately. He whines softly, and rocks his hips up while pulling you down onto him, glucking noises filling the air as he fills your mouth.
His length and girth are a lot to take, your eyes prickling with tears as he holds your head down, but when you hear him whisper, so desperately, “Love when you choke on my cock,” it’s so worth it.
He sounds so unabashedly fucked out, like your mouth is the best thing he’s ever felt, like it's the only thing he ever wants to feel for the rest of his life. He’s being a little rougher with you, a little more crude with his words like he’s losing himself in you, losing his control. It makes you moan around him, wanton and needy.
His hips start to fuck up into you mouth again, his hands holding your head in place, keeping you from pulling away. He knows you wouldn’t have, always so well behaved, almost obedient in the way that you please him. But, even so, he just likes having his hands on you, likes feeling the way you struggle to take him.
“That’s a good girl…” he groans, soft and focused, his hips snapping up again. “You’re such a good girl…”
He holds you down once more, shakes your head by the hair so that his tip rubs against your throat, and then he’s pulling you up, kissing you filthily again, not even giving you time to properly catch your breath.
“Get against the mirror,” he says against your lips.
The heat from your hands makes the glass under your hands fog up, and the heat from Jeongguk behind you makes you flush, the heaviness of his cock rutting against the swell of your ass as he wastes no time getting into position.
At the first feel of his tip rubbing between your folds, grazing over your clit, you gasp and your arms buckle. Your legs spread naturally, but Jeongguk makes a tutting noise, and rests one palm on the outside of your hips, the other between your shoulder blades applying light pressure.
“Keep them together, but bend a little– yeah, perfect,” he breathes.
He takes a step back, looks at your ass pushed out for him, your puffy pussy peeking out from between your legs with your clit tucked inside. You’re drippy, shiny and smooth, your slick leaking out, making it sound lewd and wet when he pushes inside.
Your head hangs at the first thrust, Jeongguk pushing in slow but with a steady motion, and you exhale a soft puff.
He keeps his hips against your ass, his cock sheathed by your pussy. His hands grabbing and squeezing, roaming over your body while he waits just a bit for you to get used to him inside of you. Then he’s pulling out, just the tip of his cock still tucked inside, before he fucks into you hard and fast. It knocks the breath out of you, makes your hands on the mirror slip a little.
“F-fuck,” you whisper, your head still hanging, eyes squeezed shut as he fills you up.
Jeongguk’s eyes go from watching his cock slide into you, to the mirror. He moans, the contrast of his tattooed arm on your bare back as he rocks his hips into you is so pretty, just like the way that your shoulder blades push out, how your tiny waist feathers out to the swell of your hips. The fatty part of your hips ripples and pillows against him everytime he thrusts, dull slaps echoing with the whiny moans he punches out of you with his cock.
“Look baby,” he tells you.
It takes a little bit of effort, but when you lift your head, you’re met with a disheveled, messy version of yourself. There’s tears in your eyes, the feel of Jeongguk’s fat cock pushing and pulling in and out of you is overwhelmingly good, his girth rubbing against the sensitive walls of your cunt. Your makeup is messy, your under eyes dark with smudged mascara, the coverage around your mouth and on your nose completely gone, your lips kissed swollen and red.
Eyes moving to Jeongguk behind you through the mirror, you see the way he’s watching you watch him. Watching as your expression changes, how your eyes flutter when he hits that spot inside of you that makes your knees lock, makes your breath stutter and your brows furrow in pleasure.
“There,” you breathe, “God, you make me feel so good, baby.” Your hands slip down the mirror again, the force of his thrusts and the pleasure that’s curling in your belly already making it hard to hold yourself up. You squeeze your eyes shut to keep the tears from spilling over.
Jeongguk picks up the pace of his hips, his hands gripping yours, his thumbs digging into the little dimples at the bottom of your back, a perfect match, like they were placed there just for him. It’s almost like your body was meant for him, crafted with him in mind, fitting together so flawlessly that it’s hard for him to remember there were people before you, people that made him feel good before you did. Because when he’s inside of you, when he’s with you, it’s like that’s all there is. Just an endless loop of you and him, you and him, no beginning or end, no past or future, like the world is only as big as the room you’re in.
“Faster– getting close...”
Your voice echoes in his ears, and he realizes that his thrusts slowed while he got lost in thought. He clears his throat, gets back to work, back to fucking you like he means it, it’s the last time he ever will.
“You always cum so fast when I fuck you like this,” Jeongguk muses, biting his lip when he sees the way your tits jiggle in the mirror.
He expects you to be snarky, make a comment about how he’s smug, too cocky, but instead you nod your head, hands forming fists against the mirror. It’s airy and sexy when you say, “Yeah, you fuck me the best, love your cock… wanna cum for you…”
And it reminds him of the first time he fucked you. How you said more or less the same thing.
“Yeah, wanna fuck you all the time. Love your fat cock…”
That was 6 months ago. It’s not that long but it is at the same time. It feels like only a few seconds and a lifetime in the same breath. Jeongguk feels something stir in his belly, something mix with the steady build up.
“Yeah?” he asks, his voice soft and dreamy– almost fond, juxtaposing the way he’s fucking you. “What do you say?”
You wait a few moments for your body to get there, your head falling again like it's getting hard to support yourself. You’re chanting softly; pornographic ‘yeah’s’ and lewd mewls spilling from your lips nonstop.
“Fuck…” you start, “can I… can I cum?”
It sounds like it's hard for you to form words, so it's a little mean of Jeongguk to spring something new on you. But he can’t help himself.
“Who are you asking?”
A confused sound that turns to a moan at the tailend colors the air.
“Who am I, baby? What should you call me when I’m fucking you like this?” Jeongguk asks, patient and gentle.
You say the first thing that pops into your head.
A sharp slap echoes in the room, and you’re sure there’s a red palm print on your ass. You cry out, whiny as Jeongguk leans over you, his voice in your ear.
“You know better than that,” he says, a little out of breath, but still stern. “Try again. Be polite.”
At this point you’re so close that you’re crying softly, your knees turning inward as you squeeze your legs together as if that will keep your orgasm at bay until he says you can cum. You try to listen to his words, connect the dots and finally it comes to you.
“Sir–” you gasp, “Sir, can I cum?”
Jeongguk groans a little, feels his cock jerk inside of you, the title making that hot feeling burn within him.
“Yes,” he moans, “Look at yourself while you do, want you to see how pretty you look when you cum just from my cock.”
Hardly able to keep yourself up at all, even with the help of the mirror, you tell him in a whiny voice that you can’t, that it’s too hard.
You hear him coo before your world spins a little bit, Jeongguk wrapping an arm around your tummy, pulling you to his chest. His body is burning behind you, and his breath is hot in your ear as he pants, his hips punching into you from behind. The arm that he doesn't have wrapped around your torso comes up, forearm resting between your tits, fingers getting a hold of your jaw making you look straight ahead.
The sight looking back at you is indecent. So filthy that you and Jeongguk both falter, a soft moan echoing in unison.
“Look at you,” Jeongguk purrs.
“Please,” you cry, simply because you don't know what else to say, overtaken with pleasure.
“I already said you could cum, baby,” he reminds you.
And it's like it's all too much and not enough at the same time. Like the push and pull of his cock into your cunt is too good yet exactly what you need, like his hands on you are overstimulating but without them you wouldn’t feel that safety, that feeling of being adored and taken care of. Like his voice in your ear encouraging you is too nice but if he stopped talking to you you wouldn’t know wouldn’t know what to do, that it’s okay.
“Jeongguk,” you cry. Like actually cry. No longer able to hold in the tiny, overwhelmed sobs.
He presses into the side of your head, kisses you as well as he can when he’s jackhammering his hips into your cunt. He shushes you, and his hold on your jaw softens, his other hand petting over your front soothingly. “I know, baby, I know,” he coos.
And it just makes you cry harder. “I can’t– It’s– it’s too much–”
“Yes you can,” he whispers hotly, his eyes on you in the mirror. “You can do it, be good, cum for me…”
He uses the hand he has on your front to press you back into him, closer if that were even possible, but with the slight pressure on your lower belly he feels something.
The moan that falls from his lips is so shameless and lewd. It’s not loud, but more of a soft, wondrous keen.
His cock thrusting into you can be felt with the light push into your belly, and it unlocks something in him. He grabs one of your hands that’s clutching at his forearm and brings it down, his own hand on top of yours pushing so you can feel his cock inside of you too.
“Feel that?” he asks, nipping at your ear lightly, “So hard for you, so deep that you can feel me through your belly... Let go for me, baby, wanna feel you cum on my cock while I can feel myself inside you from the outside.”
Maybe it’s feeling him from the outside, or maybe it's the way he always manages to keep that soft, gentle way with you no matter what. Even if he gets worked up, losing himself a bit– he never leaves you, never becomes too harsh or rough. He’s always the perfect mix of both, and that’s what makes the pleasure that’s been ebbing in you wash over your body.
You tremble in his arms and soft, desperate whimpers get exhaled as you cum. No warning, but Jeongguk knows, feels the way you contract around him as he slows his hips a little, giving you longer, unhurried thrusts. He lets you bathe in it, the dreamy, dizzying high that makes you delirious as you thank him with teary words.
“That’s my girl, so good for me all the time… knew you could do it,” he says, his hips gradually starting to pick up again, his thrusts sloppy.
Vision is a little blurry when you blink your eyes, but the sight of Jeongguk wrapped around you, his face in your neck biting and moaning into your skin–
“Please cum inside of me,” you beg.
“Yeah, gonna–” he tells you, his teeth sinking into that spot between your shoulder and neck. You gasp when he sucks, knowing that there will be a mark, and you bring your hand up to his hair, keeping him close.
Jeongguk switches from those harsh sucks and bites to sweet kisses up your neck to your jaw. His fingers on your face urge you to look over your shoulder, and the distance between your lips and his is too small, too tempting for him to not take it.
He kisses you, desperate just like his thrusts are becoming until he's right at the crest.
“Gonna cum,” he pants against your lips, his hand on your tummy still pushing to feel himself.
You nod, still looking at him behind you, placing soft kisses on his lips at first and then wherever you can reach until he succumbs to the pleasure, his eyes closing and his head lulling back a little before he’s pressing into your sweaty hair, like he wants to hide yet stay close to you. He cums with a gasp, cock buried deep, throbbing with every shot of white that paints you from the inside.
As soon as he catches his breath, he kisses you.
He kisses you again and again and again.
There’s something so intimate… so vulnerable about letting someone wash you.
When there’s no ulterior motives laced with sex or lust. Just gentle touches, pure in the way they take their time with lathering up even the simple, boring parts of your body. Paying special mind to your hands, your calves. Behind your ears, your shoulders.
Jeongguk’s touching you like you’re sunshine.
Like he’s savoring the warmth of your body under his fingertips even though it's too hot in the shower.
He’s touching you like you’re the perfect day, one so perfect that he’s scared it will pass by before he can enjoy it.
He’s touching you with so much care and attention and it feels so good that it’s blissful. It feels so– it feels like when you’re a little kid and you return to the comfort of your home after a long day, to the familiarness of your bed, to everything that makes you feel safe.
It feels like your favorite memory. The one you keep adding onto because the details have gotten fuzzy, but you clutch onto it because it's too precious to let go of.
It feels like a–
It feels like–
Jeongguk takes his time with you.
It feels so good that it’s almost overwhelming in a way that you’ve never experienced before. It feels so good that tears sting behind your eyelids, so different from the tears you shed earlier.
He delicately untangles your hair, gets out all the knots he put in it. He cups your face, gently rubbing the pads of his thumbs under your eyes, getting the makeup off as best he can. He’s careful when he’s suds up your body, mindful of the light blossoms that he planted into your skin. The violet on your neck pulses under the care, a bloom that’s pretty, a bloom that aches, a bloom that feels good.
He’s adoring, he’s soft, he’s bliss.
When his lips kiss your cheek, it's almost platonic, simply because it lacks desire. It sounds bad, embarrassing maybe, that he’s not desiring your naked body in front of him, but it’s not– it’s something new and it's so incredibly wholesome. His kisses are so sweet, so pure, so innocent and just an expression of caring rather than wanting that it makes you want him in a way that scares you.
After the final rinse, you kiss his cheek. Hope and yearn that he can feel half of what he made you feel. You hope he knows what you mean when you say quietly, “Thank you.”
“Wear this one, you look good in white.”
Jeongguk has a fluffy grey towel tied around his hips, lingering water droplets disappearing when they trek far enough down his torso. And you’re scrunching your hair in a matching towel, warm from the heated towel rack. The atmosphere in his bedroom is warm too, soft and comfortable, sweet like a cup of hot tea.
He’s got one of his white shirts scrunched in his hands, ready to dress you. Quiet laughter putters from your lips as you reach your hands up and into the arm holes as he pulls the neck hole over your head. When you pop out Jeongguk is close enough for you to kiss him, so you do.
“We’ve kissed so much today,” he says thoughtfully, turning and digging in his drawers. Instead of taking care of himself, he finds a pair of your lounge shorts that you left here.
“I know, how gross,” you say with playful disgust in your tone, as you take that and step into the shorts. Panties are unnecessary apparently, since he doesn’t hand you one of the stray pairs you know are in his dresser.
He hums walking into the bathroom. “It’s nice, I like kissing you.”
You roll your eyes following him. Hopping onto the counter you watch as he does his skincare. “We already had sex, no need to butter me up, sir.”
The corners of his mouth turn up just barely as he tries not to smile, hardly glancing at you as he dabs his moisturizer in.
“I like it when you’re around,” he says simply.
Heat rushes to your face, and your heart beats loud in your ears and something feels so different.  
So of course you just change the subject.
“I’m so glad we ordered food before the shower.” You place a hand on your belly, “I’m so hungry.”
“Hopefully you clicked the right stuff, since you were, you know, a little distracted… seeing as we were kissing… so much… because I like to kiss you...”
“Do you want a kiss right now? Is that why you’re being annoying?”
He makes an offended expression before immediately going back to his normal face, tinted with faux nonchalance. He shrugs his tattooed shoulder, tapping the cream in. “I wouldn’t object to a kiss or two…”
And so he gets a kiss or two or three, soft, giddy little pecks.
He pulls away, and just looks at you for a few seconds, doe-eyes dancing across your features before falling and lingering on the lovebite he left that’s peeking out. The neck of his shirt is too big, hanging loose. His hand comes up and he fingers at the material like he’s thinking of straightening the shirt out for you.
He doesn’t, instead bringing the hand to your jaw, making you tilt your head, looking up at him.
“You’re so pretty,” he says, his thumb gliding on the apple of your cheek.
Your eyes fall shut, content. A lazy smile laces your words when you say, “Thanks.”
Cute kissy noises ring in your ears until they don’t, the doorbell taking their place.
You pull away so fast that Jeongguk is almost insulted. Jumping from the counter you squeal about the food, tapping his toweled butt on the way out of the bathroom, telling him to hurry up and get dressed as you rummage through your purse for your wallet.
“Wait I’ll pay,” he says, finally dropping his towel and snagging a pair of briefs.
“It’s okay!” you call over your shoulder, speed walking to his front door.
The walk from Jeongguk’s bedroom isn’t too long, but your thoughts are fast, running a mile a minute. The thought of how good today has been, how easy it is to be with him. How whenever you’re with him you find that your cheeks hurt when you go home, laughter constant, and smiles ever present. You think about how warm his home is, how warm he is, how being with him is a comfort that you’ve come to crave.
The smile that is on your face is unconscious, the remnants of the soft emotions swirling in your chest, feeling like you’ve finally pinpointed what's so different about today.
When you open the door, that lingering smile falls and that hazy feeling evaporates.
In front of you is not a delivery guy.
It’s the woman from the pictures. The framed one in the hallway, the one on top of Nari’s dresser, the one in the photo albums Jeongguk let you browse through when you wanted to see his daughter as a newborn. It’s the same woman that was in the picture he sent you.
And your heart drops when you take her in. You knew she was pretty, but the pictures don’t even scratch the surface. Even when her features are pulled in perturbed confusion, she’s beautiful. She’s put together, long dark hair styled and sleek, make up done minimally but elegantly, her parted lips a sheer coral. Her straight, dark brows are furrowed causing a slight wrinkle between them. It looks out of place, an imperfection that doesn’t belong.
Her sharp eyes scan you, both of you just kind of standing there in the doorway, taking the other in. They go from your wet hair, to your face, down to where Jeongguk’s shirt hangs loosely off your shoulder. Her gaze hardens as she lingers there for just a moment, before directing dark eyes back at you.
It feels like it’s been hours, that you both have been there, but in reality it's not even a minute. She looks like she’s going to say something, but the impatient baby in the woman’s arms makes herself known.
At the high pitched squeal that Nari lets out, you snap out of it, plastering a smile on your face. The little one is smiling, clearly excited to see you, her doe-eyes curling and getting mini puffs under them. When she leans away from her mom, arms reaching out towards you, it’s instinct when you go to take her from her mom.
“Hi! Sorry Gguk’s in–” You falter, arms raised halfway, when Nari gets pulled out of reach.
The woman doesn’t go as far as taking a step away from you, but she turns at the waist kind of putting herself and some distance between you and her baby. As you let your hands fall in timid, jerky movements, you look between the two in front of you, and Nari’s doing the same, a cute confused expression on her face like she doesn’t know why she wasn’t allowed to play with you.
And it’s not like you blame Nari’s mom. It’s very apparent that she has no clue who you are. If anything you think it’s good that her mom is protective enough to not just hand Nari over to someone she doesn’t know. It makes sense, but it stings.
“Ba?” Nari babbles, to her mom.
The woman’s cold gaze breaks at the sound of her daughter's voice, and morphs into one of quiet love as she directs her eyes to the baby, giving her a soft smile. She bounces Nari a little on her hip, and Nari giggles. When they are looking at each other, their profile resemblance is striking. Of course Nari’s features are still baby soft, but it's obvious that they have the same nose. Small, slightly upturned. The same lips too; plump with the upper lip almost rounded.
“Who is this, Riri?” she asks her baby playfully, her eyes finding you again at the tailend of her sentence.
She’s smiling, but her eyes are stony, guarded, as she looks at you expectantly.
“I’m __– I’m a uh… a friend of Jeongguk’s?”
Her eyes narrow for a fraction of a second when you say ‘friend’ and the coolness she’s emitting is enough for you to call for Jeongguk for your shoulder, needing the comfort of him. The woman in front of you is intimidating in a way you don’t think you could ever achieve. It’s something about the way she carries herself, so collected and aloof, like she’s mastered the art of keeping it together.
And you’re not scared of her, not really. But what are you supposed to do in this situation other than call for Jeongguk?
At the thought of him, you hear his voice come from behind you and when you turn, you see him walking out of his room, bottom half clothed in dark joggers, his top half bare as he clumsily pulls a shirt over his head.
“Do you need cash for the ti–” When his wet head of hair pops out of the neck hole, and he sees not one girl in front of him, but three, his voice cuts out, and he slows as he takes in the scene before him. You see how his chest expands as he takes a deep breath, like he’s preparing himself before quickening his pace.
Nari starts to kick in her mom’s hold when she sees her dad approaching, excited little gasps puffing out of her.
“Hi, little flower,” Jeongguk coos, smiling wide as he brings his hand up, tickling Nari’s neck, making the baby squirm and curl in on herself as she bubbles out a giggle. “Dasom,” he says as a greeting to his ex-wife, as takes his place next to you, his hand settling on your lower back for just a moment, like he’s letting you know he’s there.
Dasom lets the corners of her lips turn up slightly as she says, “Jeongguk.”
“What are you doing here?” he asks. You can tell he’s trying to keep his voice neutral.
“Something came up at work. I have to go to the headquarters a few cities over for a few days,” Nari grabs at the dainty necklace she’s wearing, and Dasom gently untangles her little fingers, offering her her wrist instead. A heavier, more sturdy piece of jewelry keeps Nari busy. “I texted you hours ago letting you know I was on my way.”
“I was busy. I didn’t have my phone on me,” he explains.
Dasom looks between you both. The freshly washed hair on both your heads, the mark on your neck. The too-big, white shirt you have on that’s clearly not yours. “I can see that,” she replies coolly.
And suddenly you feel so out of place, so uncomfortable. Standing between two people who used to share the home you’re surrounded by. Two people who share the sweet baby girl that’s content babbling to herself. Two people who were married, who were in love, who have so much history together. You know it’s mildly absurd, because they’re divorced, but you feel like you’re intruding, like you’re doing something wrong.
You’re just about to excuse yourself when Jeongguk sighs, runs a frustrated hand through his hair, reaching out and taking Nari from her mom. “__, can you take Nari and wait for me in the playroom?”
“Daaa,” she peeps happily in her dad’s big arms, as he hands her off to you.
“Kook–” Dasom says, uneasiness lacing her tone.
“She’s fine Dasom, she’s been with __ many times,” Jeongguk says with a finality to his tone.
Dasom says her goodbyes to Nari, a tense silence falling over the house as you walk away with the baby. It’s not till Dasom thinks you’re far enough away that she speaks up.
“Who is that, Jeongguk?”
Jeongguk shuts his eyes roughly when he hears a hint of confused hurt in her voice. He can tell she’s trying to mask it, but he’s known her for a long time. Remembers clearly what it sounds like, memories of all the painful talks preceding the divorce edging on his conscience.
“She’s a friend,” he sighs.
“How old are your friends these days?” Dasom questions, confusion turning to judgement– obvious in her tone and her stance, her arms crossing over her torso.
Jeongguk hangs his head and scrubs his hands over his face. “How was Nari?” he asks, trying to change the subject.
His ex has different plans. “How old is she?”
He looks up at her sharp tone, a surprised color to his features. He looks over his shoulder towards the playroom before he turns back to her, a soft incredulous scoff leaving his lips. “She’s old enough, and I’m not doing this with you. So if you don’t have any updates–” His hand is on the door in the process of inching it closed when Dasom interrupts him.
“You know,” she starts, “I never thought I’d have to worry about this with you. Thought you’d be able to keep your personal and parenting lives separate.”
And she knows exactly which buttons of his to push; of course she does. She was married to him for years, knew him better than anyone else at one point in time. She knows that insinuating that he is a lacking parent, that he doesn’t always put their daughter first, will irk him enough to pull a reaction out of him.
It’s purposefully done– vindictiveness an ugly side of his ex that doesn’t come out of her often, only when she’s hurt and wants to hurt back. Or at least it didn’t happen often. It’s been over a year, and people change.
“Are you sure you want to debate which of us has trouble separating and balancing things when you’re the one dropping our daughter off in the middle of your week with her, to go to work?” he asks, his tone icy. He knows her well too. Knows it’s the same insinuations that hurt him, that cut her as well.
Anger colors Dasom’s features as she takes a step closer to Jeongguk, her head tilted a little as she looks up at him. “I do it for her. To provide for her. You know that,” she spits, “And I keep my lovers away from her while I’m at it.”
Jeongguk laughs, like he can’t believe he’s having this conversation. “I’m sure you do, Dasom,” he pauses, debating on whether to add what he’s thinking. “And for the record, I don’t have ‘lovers’. I’m only seeing one person.”
“And are you planning on committing to her? Making it long term?”
Caught off guard doesn’t even really begin to cover the whiplash-like feeling that Jeongguk experiences when he hears the question.
He hesitates, flounders a little. He cares about you, likes you so, so much. And he’s not stupid– he knows that he feels something for you that’s vastly different from what he’s felt for the others before you but– you’re young. So young, with your whole life ahead of you. Meanwhile, he has his life already booked for the next 16 years, at least. He’s never really let himself think about things long term, because it just doesn’t seem realistic. Asking you to commit to not only him, but a two year old as well? It seems selfish to ask that of you, like an unintentional trap that steals your freedom. He can’t ask for that. He won’t.
Dasom looks disillusioned, like she really did expect better from Jeongguk. “I didn’t think so. You’re not even dating her... She’s your ‘friend’?” she asks.
Jeongguk just looks at her with pursed lips and pinched brows.
“And when you’re not ‘friends’ anymore, Kook?” she asks again, “Are you just going to bring another ‘friend’into Nari’s life for her to get attached to just for them to leave again? And what about when she’s older? Do you want her thinking that’s what women do? Come and go?”
Dasom’s words are exaggerated and extreme– she doesn't know the circumstances between you and him, doesn’t know that it was Nari that introduced you to one another, so waiting to introduce you and his daughter wasn’t an option. And it’s not like Jeongguk is ever going to have a legion of women filtering through his home.
But the point is made all the same.
“No, of course I don’t want that,” he says defeated, as he tilts his head back for a moment, letting his eyes shut.
“Yeah, me either,” she says. Her voice lacks the judgment it held at the beginning of the conversion, being replaced by blasé melancholy. “So I hope she gets it out of your system. Please drop Nari off next Friday, just like always.”
Turning on her heel, Dasom makes to leave before she stops abruptly. She takes a deep breath with her head tilted back, before she’s looking down, like she’s tired. Like the fight with Jeongguk took a lot of her. She pulls a folder from her bag, turning back around and presenting it to Jeongguk.
“For Ri’s speech…” she says softly, “I took her to another speech pathologist yesterday. This one said try doing signs during meals. ‘All done’. ‘More’...” Dasom does the signs haphazardly waving her hands about. “Doctor said it...” She takes a deep breath, and laughs halfheartedly, and Jeongguk can see how she’s tearing up. “Well, like all the other doctor’s we’ve taken her to, they said it may help.”
Her eyes are glassy when she looks at him, and Jeongguk’s heart aches because he knows exactly how she feels.
The anxiety and constant worry you feel over your child’s well-being is one of the hardest things to navigate because you have to keep it together and not let yourself get defeated. You have to come to terms with the fact that sometimes there’s things that, as a parent, you can’t fix, and that sometimes you can do everything right and still have things go wrong– things that may never be able to go right.
He knows that there is an unexplainable guilt, that there’s always that little voice in the back of your head that tells you that maybe if you had done this, then that wouldn’t have happened. It’s a horribly helpless feeling, wanting nothing more than to make things better for your child, and not being able to.
“She’s fine you know,” he says softly, “she’s just taking her time.”
Dasom tries to nod, but she breaks. Her hands come up to cover her quivering chin and quiet her soft cries. She buries her face in her palms as her shoulders tremble.
“Hey, hey,” Jeongguk whispers, reaching out and pulling her to his chest. Her hands are still covering her face, so his arms circle around her as a whole and he rests his chin on her head and lets her cry, his own eyes stinging.
It’s only a minute or two that Dasom weeps against his chest. She’s then pulling away with a deep breath, blowing it out in that soothing way trying to calm herself, trying to regulate her breathing. She laughs, airy like she’s embarrassed, as she taps under her eyes, trying to save her makeup as best she can.
“Ah… sorry about that,” she says, “Haven’t cried in a while so that was bound to happen sometime soon.”
Jeongguk laughs quietly before he muses, “She can say juice now.”
Dasom rolls her eyes playfully. “Yeah… Joofs.”
They both laugh together, for a moment, a few moments, until it tapers off naturally. Leaving soft wistful smiles on their faces.
“Drive safe, Som-ie.”
“Yeah… Joofs.”
The laughter that echoes from Jeongguk’s foyer feels like a punch in the gut after everything that you’ve heard. All the things you felt earlier seem stupid and childish in hindsight.  
And yeah, you don’t blame Jeongguk for staying quiet when Dasom asked if he wanted to commit to you because that’s not something you guys have even touched on, but when he stayed silent as she went on about you just being his ‘friend’? Alluding to you just being a lay for him, just something he needs to ‘get out of his system’? Something disposable and unimportant?
You had at least expected him to defend you.
To tell her that while you may not be his girlfriend, you are important to him. More than a quick lay, more than just a young girl he needs to fuck out of his system. Because you know that’s exactly what she thinks you are. And what she thinks doesn't matter, not really, but if that’s what Jeongguk thinks?
Part of you knows that there’s no way that Jeongguk thinks that. That if he did, this thing between you both would have fizzled out by now or at least been harder to deal with. But that’s never been the case. It’s always been good with him, easy.
If he thought that way, he wouldn’t have been so worried in the beginning and would have instead jumped at the chance to get into your pants. You weren’t exactly subtle back then– there were plenty of opportunities for him to come onto you. But it literally took you throwing yourself at him for him to give in.
So like you know. You know, you know, you know in your heart that it’s not true, that he doesn’t think that little of you.
But his silence was enough to plant a seed of doubt, enough to break a little bit of trust. More than enough to hurt you.
You look down at Nari, and she reaches her hands up wanting to be held. A soft, pitiful laugh falls from your lips and you bend to pick her up.
“Sorry, wasn’t playing with you was I?”
Nari looks at you, studies you with those big eyes of hers. She pats at your cheek, a little roughly, but you can tell she’s trying to be gentle. Her little hand goes from patting to petting, almost like she’s trying to soothe you, like she can tell you’re upset.
“Buu?” she asks.
In reality you have no idea what she’s saying. But it feels like she’s asking if you’re okay, and just like if an adult were to ask you that when you’re close to losing it, close to breaking– it makes you cry.
Not the embarrassing type of cry, but just a tiny cry in front of the sweetest, tiny human. Your eyes just tear up, and your chin trembles a little bit as you try to muster up a small smile, but when you blink a couple tears spill over.
Nari gasps. “Nuuu!” she tells you, before she’s wrapping her tiny bread arms around your neck, clutching onto you like she’s trying to squeeze out all of the sad.
It makes you let out a watery laugh, and you squeeze back, enough so that she croaks a little like a frog. When you pull back she’s giggling in that pure baby way that probably has healing powers or something.
“You are so smart,” you tell her, sniffing a little, trying to get yourself together. You’re not sure if Dasom left yet, or how much longer it will be before Jeongguk comes back, and you don’t want him to know you were crying, or eavesdropping.
She tilts her head at you, then leans in with her lips pulled between her teeth making them pop out when they are against your cheek, a tiny ‘maa’ sounding with her smooch.
“That’s a new type of kiss,” you tell her.
“Sol-mi, Yoongi and Jimin’s daughter, taught her at the party.”
Whipping around at the sound of his voice, you turn and see Jeongguk leaning against the doorway with two glasses of wine in his hands and a sippy cup tucked into his arm. He gives you a soft smile, and you smile back because that’s the only thing you know how to do when you’re with him. Instinctive.
“Hi,” you say.
“Hi,” he says back.
“DAAADAAA!” Nari screeches.
You pull back, wincing for your ear drum, as you let Nari down with an endeared laugh. She toddles over to her dad, tugging on his joggers.
“Hi my babygirl,” he says. Then laughs when she tugs particularly hard, “Hey– you’re gonna pull Daddy’s pants down, quit it.”
“Joofs,” she says, grabby hands reaching for the sippy cup she spotted.
“I see how it is,” he says, handing you your glass and then grabbing the juice, “Didn’t even miss me?”
He manages to sit down without his hands and without squishing his daughter, and you follow suit, watching the daddy-daughter moment unfold, quietly sipping on your wine. Trying your best to push everything else out of your mind, trying to get that almost... safe, warm feeling back. The one that you always get when you’re with Jeongguk. It’s been missing since he came into the room.
“Give Daddy a kiss and then you can have your juice,” he angles his cheek to her and then adds on, “Also say please.” like it’s an afterthought.
You shake your head, smiling, and Jeongguk flicks his eyes to you, mirroring your expression.
“Peeb,” she spouts before she gives him a very quick, rather half-assed kiss. She doesn’t even do the ‘maa’. Her hands open out in front of her, expectant and ready for her drink.
Jeongguk tuts at her, but hands the juice over. “You’re rotten, missy.”
Nari says nothing, just waddles so she's standing in front of him with her back to his face. She plops herself right in his lap, his criss-crossed legs making a perfect Nari-shaped seat. Sipping away with her drink in one hand, her other comes down to Jeongguk’s tattooed arm that he wrapped around her belly. Tracing them with her pudgy little fingers, she tries her best to look down while simultaneously keeping her drink in the proper position.
It’s quiet for a bit, just Nari’s soft drinking noises. You take the moment to get up and grab something from your stuff in Jeongguk’s room, before returning. As you’re walking past Jeongguk back to your spot across from him, you feel his hand tug at the one you have dangling by your side.
You look at him, a small questioning noise sounding.
He pulls, making you bend at the waist getting closer to his level, and when he tilts his head back to look up at you, his eyes flicker to your lips and then he licks his and then he’s craning his neck and then he’s kissing you softly.
It’s fleeting but it's sweet. It makes the warm feeling settle in your heart again, just for a moment before it hides away, somewhere within you. Your eyes dart to Nari. Kisses usually being reserved for alone time.
He shakes his head. “It’s alright… Sorry that happened while you were here… Me and Dasom usually communicate better than that.”
You take a seat next to him and Nari, careful of his wine glass. “It’s okay…”
Gazes meet for a few seconds looking over the other like you’re both trying to figure something out. Things different from the ‘different’ you felt earlier. This different feels like something is off; the first one felt like a dream. Maybe it was.
“Okay,” he replies lightly, but he sounds unsure, like he doesn't know if it actually is ‘okay’. His eyes drop to the small bag that you brought into the room. “Whatcha got?”
You tell him you got Nari something for her birthday, nothing big but just something that reminded you of her. You ask him if it’s okay to give it to her.
He says of course, why wouldn’t it be?
For some reason the tiny exchange hurts.
Lacking an answer, you pinch at the little fat roll on Nari’s thigh, her tiny jean shorts putting all the chub on display. She looks up at you, and you raise the bag and shake it a little. Her smile grows as she realizes it's for her. Jeongguk is abandoned, your lap now occupied.
“She has no loyalty at all,” Jeongguk says.
“She’s just making as many allies as she can, and I think that is very smart of her,” you defend, watching as Nari plucks tissue paper after tissue paper out of the bag (with only one small hand, the other still holding her juice), until she’s squealing. Your face lights up at her enthusiasm, and hers lights up at the toy, and you don’t see it, but Jeongguk’s lights up at you both.
You’ve been good with her since that day you found her at your work, and Jeongguk notices when you go out of your way to ask about her, to be kind to her, patient with her... to take care of her. Never once have you treated her like she was a burden, or an inconvenience.
He sees the way that Nari is with you, too.
Sees how happy she gets when you walk in his front door, how she always shares her things with you in that sweet way that babies do when they like someone. She even asks about you when you don't come around for a few days. A babbled version of your name peeping from her little lips.
It’s no secret that his baby has grown attached to you, come to love you. Dasom’s words ring in his ears. The thing she said about Nari getting used to someone he brings into her life, just for them to not be permanent.  
A medium sized, pink, stuffed Narwhal is pulled from the bag by the horn, and Nari swings it to the side to show her dad, just for a moment, before she’s squeezing it to her chest. She’s cooing, kinda nuzzling into it.
“Ba buuu,” she says softly, eyes still on the gift like it's something wondrous, rather than just a small plush. Jeongguk grows soft and your heart squeezes in your chest. The warmth comes back, flickers before going out again.
“What is it?” Jeongguk asks around a sip of his wine.
“A narwhal. You know, Nar-i, Nar-whal.”
His mouth twitches, fighting a smile, but he just nods. Until he can’t hold his laughter in anymore, making you laugh too by consequence. Easy.
The little crows feet at the corners of his eyes make an appearance and he scrunches his nose at you as he quiets. His hair is still just a little bit damp. “It’s cute,” he amends. “You didn’t have to get her anything, but thank you for thinking about her.”
The smile on his lips is tiny, but you can tell it’s genuine. Without laughter lightning up his face, you realize how tired he looks, warn out.
“Are you okay?” you say, arms raising so Nari is able to get up, making her way to her other toys, the narwhal tucked into her side. She grabs a babydoll, holds it to the narwhal and makes them move around like she’s introducing her toys.
Jeongguk sighs, and leans back on his hands. “Just wasn’t expecting that, is all… I get stressed when things don’t go as planned.”
“That’s why you broke out the wine in the middle of the day?” you ask with a teasing tone.
He rolls his eyes playfully. “One glass won’t hurt…”
The doorbell cuts off your reply. The food’s here.
The headboard behind Jeongguk’s back is hard, just like he is under you.
But his touches are soft, just like his kisses.
You’re straddling him, your hips just barely rocking over him as you lick into his mouth. Mewl against his lips. Hands in his hair, not pulling, but just twining your fingers in his locks, keeping him close.
It’s slow, unhurried and gentle. When he brings his palms to your chest over his shirt, he feels how your nipples pebble through the material as he squeezes, rolls them in his hands. So responsive to his touch, you pull away for just a moment to breathe out a pleased sigh before giving him a few cute pecks. Pushing into your lips, he deepens the kisses, his tongue teasing the seam of your lips until you open up for him.
He feels young again, like he’s making out with his crush, heavy petting because they are too scared to go all the way, but too into each other to not give in just a little. He hasn’t felt this way in so long. You gasp into his mouth when he pinches your nipple between his fingertips. His cock pulses, but his heart clenches.
It’s like reality is finally catching up to him. Reminding him that you and him were never supposed to get in so deep, were never supposed to get so entangled in each other’s lives. Fun and casual. That’s what it’s supposed to be. But it’s so much more than that now. At least for him it is.
His heart clenches because he’s not young anymore, but you still are.
The baby monitor that goes off with hiccuping cries just confirms his feelings.
“Sorry,” he says against your lips, his hands moving to your hips, squeezing before he helps maneuver you off of him.
“Bring her back in here,” you suggest.
Jeongguk pauses, twisting to crack his back. “You sure?”
You hum, “Yeah, wanna hang out with you both.”
And again his heart pulls, but he nods with a soft smile and a quick kiss before he’s hurrying out of the room.
Hands scrub over your face as you wait for him, your head knocking against the headboard. You purposefully focus on playing a game on your phone while you wait, refusing to let your thoughts loop incessantly around your brain.
It's a little while when Jeongguk walks back in with Nari on his hip. The sight makes you coo.
Nari’s looking around like she’s still a little out of it, her tiny round body in a light pink nightie covered in little bunnies sleeping on clouds and moons. Instead of her hair being in her trademark little ponies, it’s down, falling in messy little wisps around her face. The narwhal is clutched in her tiny hand by the horn and when she sees you, she blinks a few times before she smiles around the paci in her mouth.
“Hi sweet girl,” you say, when Jeongguk places her on the bed.
She tries to walk over to you, but the bed is soft and she’s very much still tired so she stumbles, hits the mattress with a small oof and an airy little giggle. Crawling the rest of the way she sits herself next to you, puts her plush in her lap.
“Think someone had a bad dream,” Jeongguk says around a yawn, taking his spot on the bed. “Also sorry it took a second, had to change her pull up.”
You hum, your hand coming up to pet at her hair, dark, silky, and baby scented.
“Wanna watch something, boba?” Jeongguk asks, laying himself on his side, one hand propped under his head, the other on the remote.
Nari nods, hunkers down in the fluffy pillow behind her. She looks at you and pats the sheets, as if telling you to lay down like her and her Daddy. Of course you listen.
It’s calm and quiet, just the children’s show playing in the background that you all are watching. You and Jeongguk half heartedly, Nari with round eyes. She lets out little laughs every now and then, her blinks slow and heavy. Jeongguk’s got a hand resting on Nari’s tummy and her little hand holds onto his thumb.
The scene is domestic.
“She doesn’t have nightmares often, does she?” you ask quietly.
Jeongguk glances at you, shakes his head. “Not here at least.”
“Has she always been a co sleeper?”
Jeongguk shakes his head again. “Not till after the divorce,” he says. “And I wouldn’t say she still co sleeps… most nights she sleeps on well on her own. I just don’t tell her no if she wants to come into my room.”
At the mention of the divorce your brain begins to whirl.
It’s not something he brings up often, and it’s never really bothered you. But after today, after you saw and heard how he and his ex interacted… It makes you curious. They seem to get along decently well, and they both clearly love Nari.
You sound a bit timid when you ask, “Why did you guys split up?”
Jeongguk’s quiet, doesn’t acknowledge that he heard you even though you know that he did. You worry that you’ve said something wrong, and you’re about to apologize but he speaks up.
“I’ll tell you… just getting my thoughts in order.”
Jeongguk stares down at the teeny, tiny baby in the bassinet. The light pink of the skirt at the bottom matches the accents on the walls of her nursery.
Her big eyes are watching the fairy mobile, big felt flowers dangling above her, the softest baby coos leaving her mouth every once in a while. She was already up when he got home from work.
When he puts his hand inside the baby bed and extends one of his fingers petting at her small hand, the baby jumps a little like she didn’t know he was there, but recognition is instant and she smiles up at him, her tiny fingers clutching around his.
“Hi miss Nari,” he says quietly, “How long have you been up, hmm? Bout time for some milk isn’t it?”
She blows a bubble up at him.
His heart swells as he picks her up, a big hand supporting her head as he pulls her to his chest. A detour to the changing table precedes his walk to the living room, where his wife is sat cross legged on the floor, papers and her laptop scattered in front of her on the coffee table. The video baby monitor is propped up as well.
“Hi honey,” Jeongguk says.
Dasom looks over her shoulder, sees the two of them and smiles. “Hey, how was work? And how’s our baby?” She types something on her laptop.
“Baby is good and work was work. Remember how I said we are thinking of setting up another branch?” Jeongguk asks, swaying a little with his cheek resting on Nari’s head. She smells like baby and Dasom hums in acknowledgement. “My brother finally got me a list of locations, so just a lot of assigning scouts to scope them out and budgeting for the cost of their travel.”
“That’s great, babe,” Dasom says.
Jeongguk watches her for a few more moments, as she flips through the papers like she’s looking for something. He walks around, so that he can sit in the loveseat off to the side, adjusts Nari so that she’s cradled in the bend of his arm. “What are you doing?” he asks.
“Just reviewing everything that’s happened at the office over the last few months…” She flicks her eyes to him.
Jeongguk frowns. “You still have two and a half weeks before you have to go back, don’t you?”
“Yeah, wanna be prepared though.”
Nari starts to wiggle in his arms, fussy. “Did you ever see if you could get a few more weeks since you guys were in the hospital for so long? That’s hardly a leave, if you ask me.”
She laughs lightly. “That’s true. But I don’t think it’s necessary? She’s doing really well, and I think that that Montessori nursery will be good for her.”
Tension fills Jeongguk’s body. “I thought we talked about letting Yeoreum watch her when you go back to work.”
“Well yes. We talked about it– but we didn’t commit to–”
“We didn’t commit to Montessori either–”
“What benefits is Nari getting if we do that?” Dasom says, finally giving Jeongguk her full attention. “No offense to Jin’s wife, but it’s not like she’s certified to care for newborns.”
“She’s a mother, Som. A very good one, she knows how to care for a baby. And Nari would be the only baby she’s taking care of so it’s one on one attention and it’s someone we know and trust so–”
“Montessori has curriculum, and it teaches children to be independent–”
“She’s a baby! She doesn’t need to be independent. She needs to be–”
Nari’s fussiness has escalated, her tiny cries filling the living room. Jeongguk starts rocking her, shushing her with soft coos. He tries the pacifier attached to her onesie, but she just pushes it out, crying louder.
“She’s hungry,” Jeongguk says, getting to his feet so he can hand her to her mom.
“I pre-pumped when she was napping earlier. There’s a bottle with 6.5 ounces in the fridge.”
Picking his battles and barely suppressing a frustrated sigh, he walks to the kitchen and places the bottle in the warmer. Nari’s cries continue to sound as he waits, bouncing her a little, rubbing her back.
Back in the loveseat, he tries to give Nari her dinner but she’s grumpy, turning her head or pushing the nipple out of her mouth, growing angrier by the minute, her tiny body turning red from how hard she’s crying.
“She’s not taking the bottle, I think she–”
“Is it warm enough?”
“Yes, I think she wants you.”
Nari’s mom looks over the top of her laptop and nods. “I’m just about done–”
“Dasom, please,” Jeongguk says, “She’s hungry and she wants her mom.”
Almost like a fog clears, Dasom’s face falls before she’s nodding hastily. “Yeah, yeah… I’m sorry I– bring her to me.”
As soon as Nari’s in her mom’s arms she quiets some, and once Dasom holds her close and starts to feed her it’s serene again. Nari’s little hand opens and closes rhythmically, until her mom gives her her finger, like Jeongguk did early. Ever since she came home from the hospital, she’s liked to hold hands.
“I’m sorry,” Dasom whispers again, without looking at Jeongguk. He can hear the guilt in her voice.
He tells her it's okay and that he’s going to shower.
Later when Nari’s down for the night and he and his wife are laying in bed, Dasom apologizes again. Tells Jeongguk that she was just stressed with preparing for work and juggling the baby.
“Som-ie, that reminds me, I was thinking…”
She turns to look at him from his side of the bed, smiling. “Not too hard, hopefully.”
“Ha-ha,” he says, unamused. He continues nervously, like he’s walking on eggshells. “But I was thinking– what if you took off for the first year or so?”
The shift in atmosphere is instant. Dasom goes stiff in her spot next to him, and she says silent.
“I only say it because we would be fine, you know?” He tries to explain, “My job brings in more than enough for us to be okay, and if you just stayed home with her, you could teach her the way that you want and I would get the peace of mind knowing that she’s safe with someone I love and trust. We would solve the daycare dilemma…”
Still, his wife says nothing, her brows furrowed.
“And you wouldn’t be so stressed…” Jeongguk continues, “you wouldn’t have to worry about work on top of being a mom… You would never miss any of her firsts and–”
“When we talked about having a baby, I told you I didn’t want to be one of those moms.”
Dasom’s voice is upset, her tone hard.
“I know, I know,” Jeongguk says softly, “But it wouldn’t be for forever. Just until she’s older… I read that companies will give extended leaves sometimes, kind of like a sabbatical.”
She laughs in disbelief, “How long have you been thinking about this? I’m not taking an extended leave, or a sabbatical, or a hiatus or whatever it is you’ve been researching, Jeongguk. I worked so hard to get to where I am,” she closes her eyes like she’s trying to stay calm, “You can’t ask me to throw that away.”
“That’s not what I’m asking–”
“But it is!” she exclaims, “Even being gone for 3 months has already put me back. My position isn’t one that can stay open for extended periods of time. And that means if I take off for even just a year– it’ll be given to someone else. Someone else will come into what I built and either reap the benefits or ruin it.”
Jeongguk stays quiet, looking at the pattern of the duvet over his lap.
It’s softer when Dasom speaks up again. “If that’s the kind of mother you want me to be– the kind that has no substance, or passions, or goals outside of being a mom– then… you may as well get the papers.”
Jeongguk’s head snaps up, his expression shocked and confused. “Divorce? Why is that the first thing your mind goes to?”
Dasom runs her hands through her hair, pressing the heels of her palms against her temples. “I’m not gonna bend on this, Kook.”
And it was almost like when the idea of divorce was spoken into existence, it was something that hung over them, like a curse that took only 7 months to come true.
“Dasom is a good mom,” Jeongguk says slowly, “We just parent very differently.”
You stay quiet, waiting for him to continue, adjusting yourself so that you’re looking at him.
“That’s the root of it, really. We couldn’t agree on anything when it came to Nari. And obviously we talked about things before she was born, and had a loose idea of how we wanted to raise her…” He stops for a moment to think.
“It’s just so different when they are born, like you think you know what it means to be a parent but you really don’t. Not until it’s already happened and they are in your arms and you’re searching for a daycare and coming across horror stories about the workers abusing the kids. Or thinking about how it wouldn’t be the end of the world if she doesn’t talk but also knowing how much harder her life will be if she doesn’t.”
You can feel a heaviness cloud the room. Jeongguk is so good at keeping this part of himself tucked away, good at putting on a brave face that when you look at him and see him looking down at his baby with worried, furrowed brows, your heart aches.
“And it led to a lot of really bad fights and it just got to a point where one day I decided I wouldn’t raise a baby in a home that was tumultuous.”
“What did you guys argue about?” you ask softly.
Jeongguk gives you a sad smile. “More like what didn’t we argue about. Daycare… But I’ll admit I agreed to it before she was born and then changed my mind... Her speech, how to deal with tantrums, where she slept, what she ate. I think Dasom’s too tough, she thinks I’m too soft…” he taps his fingers on Nari’s belly, “She thinks I’m part of the reason why she doesn’t talk. That because I dote on her, Nari thinks that she doesn’t need to use words so she just doesn’t.”
Your brows furrow. “Babies hit milestones at different rates, my cousin didn’t talk at all until he was three… Taking care of her isn’t hindering her development.”
“Thank you,” he says, quietly. “I think she’s starting to understand that too, as we keep getting outside opinions…”
He falls silent and you can tell he’s sad, his hand coming up to push Nari’s hair off of her forehead, the baby now sleeping, her round tummy expanding as she takes deep breaths. You feel bad, having brought the tense atmosphere on with your questions.
“Nari’s so smart, Gguk,” you say, kind of hasty, eager to make him feel better. “Like earlier I was upset, and she just knew… she’s so emotionally intelligent and has such a pure heart–”
“You were upset earlier?” Jeongguk asks, his gaze questioning as he looks at you.
Your mouth opens and closes like you’re trying to find the right words, but none will come out.
“Why were you upset?” he asks again, genuine worry on his face.
And just like a few hours ago, when you felt like Nari was asking you if you were okay; when Jeongguk asks you why you were upset, tears begin to well in your eyes.
At the sight of tearing up, Jeongguk sits up gingerly trying to not wake Nari, but also be attentive at the same time. “Hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me…”
You sit up too, looking at Jeongguk for a moment before looking down at your hands in your lap. A tear lands on your skin when you blink, and you take a deep breath before you say, “I… I heard you earlier…”
His face pulls into one of confusion. “Me and Dasom?”
Your head tilts back, and you sound exasperated when you say, “Who else?”
Jeongguk thinks for a moment, goes over what he and his ex talked about, remembers her being a bit touchy about your age, and then he thinks he gets it. His features soften as he says, “Don’t listen to her… seeing you just caught her off guard, she–”
You give a hopeless watery laugh, turning to look at him with sad eyes. “It’s not what she said, it’s what you didn’t say.”
And once again confusion takes over his features, his mind trying to comprehend how and why something he never even said could hurt you to the point of you sniffling in his bed, your eyes begging him to get it. He feels bad when he says, “I don’t understand?”
It was never in the plan for you to be the girl that’s crying about why a man did or didn’t do something– that’s never been who you are. You’ve never really cared enough to get upset, you’ve always been independent, just cutting your losses and moving on.
But with Jeongguk, cutting your losses feels a lot like cutting out part of your heart, and you don’t think you’ll make it if you do that. One can live with half their lungs, only one of their kidneys… but no one ever lasts long when part of their heart goes missing. Jeongguk has become vital to you.
“Jeongguk,” you whisper, “What are we doing?”
Maybe it’s unfair of you to ask him something like that, when you both agreed to something carefree, no strings attached. But you think that falling in love with someone is a lot like how Jeongguk described being a parent: You think you know what it means, but you really don’t. Not until it’s already happened.
Because that’s what felt different prior to opening that door and letting doubt in with the breeze. Everything felt warmer, easier, safer, better because it was laced with the realization that you love Jeongguk.
His face has fallen when you look at him, waiting for his reply. The corners of his lips are down turned, and his brows are turned up. He begins to shake his head softly, his mouth parting a few times before he’s raising his shoulders in a hopeless way.
“I– I don’t know anymore,” he whispers back.
That’s the answer you expected, but it still makes you exhale pain, like his words knock the wind out of you. It’s shaky when you catch your breath, but you nod.
“I think I should leave for tonight,” you tell him, starting to push his comforter to the side.
Jeongguk feels his heart start to race, and he reaches out for you, his hand landing on your shoulder. “What? Right now? It’s the middle of the night– don’t– it’s–”
“If you don’t want me to leave,” you interrupt him, “then we need to talk.”
His mouth snaps shut and he rolls his lips between his teeth like he’s thinking. He glances at the baby sleeping between you, and gives you a quick nod. “Yeah, okay… Just not here, I don’t want her waking up again… let me get the monitor from her room. I’ll meet you in the living room.”
Nodding wordlessly, you slip out of the room.
You’re pacing lightly, in nothing but his shirt that hits high on your thigh and a pair of panties, when Jeongguk comes out. He’s still shirtless, but he pulled on some joggers before leaving the room. One hand is pushing his hair back like he’s stressed, and the other is holding the baby monitor. He places it on the counter, and turns to you. A sad smile is offered, and you give him one back because it’s instinct.
It seems like neither of you know where to begin, both just breathing heavy in the artificial light. You take a deep breath.
“I wanted you to defend me,” you admit.
Jeongguk stays quiet, but his brows pinch.
“Or maybe like… defend us…” Embarrassment creeps into your bones.
“Defend us over what?” he asks. He doesn’t sound like he’s being dense, but like he actually doesn’t know.
Sighing, you say, “The way she talked about me, Gguk… She said I was something you needed to ‘get out of your system’... just a friend you fuck that’s disposable and unimportant and–”
“You know that’s not true,” he interjects.
“Yeah I do. Why didn’t you tell her that?” You can feel the first licks of anger in your chest, your voice coming out harsher than you intend. “Why did you let her talk about me like I’m just some stupid kid that doesn’t know what she wants? Like you don’t know what you want?”
Jeongguk thinks about it, realizes the answer is quite simple.
“Because I don’t know what I want, and I don’t think that you know what you want either.”
You look taken aback, and anger colors your features. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that this turned into something it was never supposed to and now we don’t know how to navigate it or what we want from each other anymore,” Jeongguk explains, trying to keep the sadness out of his voice.
It’s true and it’s not at the same time. Because Jeongguk knows what he wants, at least to some extent, but he knows he can’t have it. Meaning that if he can’t have what he wants, he doesn’t know what he wants instead of that. And he supposes he can’t speak for you, but he doesn’t correct himself, instead says, “We’re in too deep, __… I care about you.”
It doesn’t sound like much, but you know what he means… know that it’s a confession of some sort.
Tentative hope bubbles in your chest at his words, and you take a few steps closer to him. “That’s not a bad thing, I care too. We both care so we can–” you pause, and look up at him. “We can just take the next step or something, right?”
Jeongguk smiles softly, and his hands come up to cup your face and it’s warm again, and it’s safe when you’re in his palms and when he’s kissing you. Your hands come up to just hold at his wrists, eyes shutting, and it’s sweet again and–
“It’s not that simple, baby…”
–and it’s over.
“There’s something that Dasom said that’s true.”
And you know it’s childish but you shake your head in his hands and tears begin to brim. She ruined everything. She planted that seed of doubt in both your heads, and she’s the reason why Jeongguk doesn’t feel safe anymore and why his hands aren’t warm and why everything is falling apart. You squeeze your eyes shut and scrunch your brows together, a few tears spilling over. “I don’t want to talk about her,” you whisper.
He smiles, a sad curve to his lips. “I know, you don’t... But we both need to hear it… We don’t agree on a lot when it comes to Nari, but she was right when she said that thing about people coming into Nari’s life and then leaving after she gets attached. That’s not fair to Nari and it was selfish of me to let it happen.”
“How do you know I’m just going to leave?” you ask.
“Because I’m not going to let you stay,” Jeongguk whispers, his thumb wiping away the tears that have already started to flow.
Words don’t even come to you, because of how badly it hurts. And you’re doing your best to keep it as together as you can because you aren’t pathetic. You’re not going to beg him to let you stay but you want to understand why. Your voice cracks when you ask him.
“You’re too young, __. And I’m not saying that’s why I don’t think you know what you want… But I don’t think you know what being with me long term means, and what you would be missing out on… I’m not going to trap you, it’ll just lead to you resenting me,” he says gently. His hands have left your face, and he walks around a little like he’s trying to gather his thoughts. “And there’s just so much that I have to balance. I don’t know if I have room or the time–”
It feels like a slap in the face. How did everything change so quickly from this morning?
“There was room in your bed for me,” you interrupt him, bitter pain lacing your words. “You had time to fuck me.”
He winces. “You know I didn’t mean it like that,” he tells you gently, “I just meant… I think I need to think about things, reevaluate my priorities–”
It sounds a lot like what you said earlier, when you were under him, taunting him with kisses.
You hum, “I just think you need to reevaluate your priorities, maybe.”
“And what do you think my priorities should be, __?” he whispers, eyes searching your face, lingering on your lips, a fond look coloring his features.
“Well, right now,” you start, looping your arms around his neck, “I think you should really focus on that plank, and on that kiss you’re dying to give me.”
And god, you wish you could go back. Wish you could rewind and just replay everything up until the doorbell rang. But you can’t because the reality of the situation is that this was always going to end.
Jeongguk has his mind made up. The fear of you leaving him and Nari and the fear of you resenting him if you stayed are inevitable feelings that he would have realized eventually. He has priorities and if he doesn’t change the way he thinks, it won’t ever work because–
“Because I’m not one of them…” you realize quietly. He cares, but not enough.
Jeongguk’s composure breaks and it’s written all over his face, how much it hurts him to hurt you, even if it’s not intentional. “I’m sorry,” he says, and it sounds desperate like he’s yearning for you to know that he means it. “But it’s always going to be her, Nari will always be the most important thing to me.”
And you won’t beg for a place in his life, but you want him to understand.
“I’m not asking to be the most important thing in your life, that’s not what I want,” you tell him.
“What do you want?” he asks.
“I want you to understand that I just want to be with you,” you tell him.
He’s by the couch now, sitting on the armrest. His lips are pressed in a tight line, and you can see redness around his eyes from fighting tears of his own. You’re still by the counter where he left you.
“It doesn’t have to be so extreme, Gguk… It’s not like we’re getting married, we would just be taking a next step–”
“But we might, __!” he yells, before shutting his eyes roughly and taking a deep breath. His tone is softer when he continues. “Obviously I wouldn’t spring that on you, but being with me means that you have to be okay with a lot of things,” he says.  
When you ask him what kinds of things he says, “You would have to be okay with never coming first, with me cancelling on you whenever something comes up with Nari. You would have to be okay with me still having a relationship with my ex because I refuse to let my baby have parents that hate each other.”
You try to keep your face straight but he must be able to see how he’s getting into your head because he continues, almost like he’s trying to convince you it’s not worth it being with him.
“At 22 you have to be okay with potentially getting married, with being a stepmom… I know you care about Nari, but if you were to commit to me, you would have to commit to her too. There would be boundaries that me and Dasom make, and you would have to respect them. You and her would have to learn to get along.”
“You’re only 22, __,” he continues, his voice borders on whining, like he just wants you to get it. “You don’t want that. You would lose your freedom… while your friends are travelling or doing whatever, you’ll be in a relationship, tied down… I won’t do that to you, __.” He looks at you for a moment. “Maybe you want a relationship,” he amends, trying to acknowledge your feelings. “But you don’t want an instant family, it’s too much for someone so young. It’s even a lot for people my age.”
“Why does it have to be so… all or nothing?” you ask, a little desperate because it's hard to understand the way he thinks.
“I can’t think short term when I have a baby who depends on me long term,” he replies.
“Then what have we been doing this whole time?”
Jeongguk opens his hands, turns his palms up like he’s giving up. “I was selfish and I got caught up… I made a mistake.”
A mistake. Your heart breaks a little but it beats loud in your ears as you let his words sink in. It's a lot to take in, especially when you two haven’t spoken about being in a committed relationship even once before. And it's confusing because he said he cared.
“I thought you cared about me… Why does it feel like you’re trying to scare me away?” you ask him, voice hurt.
Jeongguk looks at his hands, like he can’t face you. “I do care about you, and I’m not trying to scare you,” he says quietly. “I’m just telling you a fraction of the things that you really need to think about.”
And think you do.
Do you really want all that? Was he right when he alluded to you losing more than you gain? Are you ready to get into a relationship with someone who has marriage as the end goal when you don’t even have your life figured out? Are you really mature enough to handle his relationship with his ex, when you can’t even maturely handle things with your roommates sometimes?
Would being with you be a good thing for him and Nari? Or would they be better off with someone else? Someone with goals and passions, and their life a little more figured out. Maybe someone who has a kid of her own, because she knows what it’s like already. Someone older and more mature with a good job. Someone who is nothing like you.
You didn’t even notice that you started crying, but when you come back, your eyes are blurry and your cheeks are sticky with old and new tears.
“Okay,” you say. You try to smile, but your chin is quivering. “I’ll let you know when I’ve thought through everything.”
When you go back to his room to get you things, you give Nari a tiny kiss, and you tell her that you’ll miss her. As you walk past Jeongguk to his front door, he doesn’t try to stop you this time.
You love Jeongguk, you’re sure that you do, but maybe being with him isn’t what's best. Doubt has made a home in your heart, that warmth you long for nowhere to be seen or felt.
AYOOOOO don’t scream at me too much, that's not the end lmao but whoa... how’d they go from kissing to crying just like that hmm... also, opinions on the ex wife?? genuinely curious bc i actually dont hate her ?? 🤔 anyway, i hope you liked it, if you did please do all the things~~ please reblog, like, comment, send an ask... very curious about how we feel about this one 🙇🏻‍♀️ thanks for reading and as always i love u, sorry im posting late lol byeeee <3
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opaljm · a month 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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sourkoo · 17 days ago
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❛ You know when Jungkook says ‘give me five minutes’ you have to take matters into your own hands. ❜
━  REQUESTED: yes.
━  PAIRING: jungkook x fem!reader.
━  RATING: 18+
━  GENRE: smut, fluff (not that noticeable but they're in love).
━  AU: idol, established relationship, pwp.
━  CONTENT: cock-warming, unprotected sex (your life isn’t a fanfic, take care of yourself), nipple play basically boob worshipping, spanking (just once, really).
━  CONTENT WARNING: spanking (again, just once), domestic boyfriend!koo cause that needs to be a warning.
━  WORD COUNT: 2,1k.
━  NOTE: gamer domestic boyfriend!koo, i missed youuuu~ this is the first of many things that i’ll repost here. i tried to make it less yucky, but you know my english isn’t all that great, so… if there are any mistakes PLEASE let me know, mmkay? thank you, i love you<3
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The sound of gunshots and Jungkook’s agitated voice wakes you up abruptly from your dreamless sleep. Your heart hammers against your chest and it takes you five seconds to realize that Jungkook is in fact playing one of his online games instead of being brutally murdered (though you bet he’d disagree with the last statement). Groaning, you take a look at the, way too bright, screen of your phone with squinting eyes. It’s 7:39 pm, which means you’ve been asleep for almost half of the day. You suppose Jungkook has played for as long as you’ve slept.
You get up from the bed and put your messy bird's nest of hair up in an equally messy ponytail. You leave the room with eyes half-opened and follow the sounds that only get louder as you near the almost empty room where Jungkook drops the things he knows you hate seeing all over the apartment.
He’s sitting on the couch that’s right in front of his computer monitor, his body bent forward to have his face as close to the screen as he can be, something you always scold him for. Why does he, a millionaire, sit on a couch instead of buying a proper gaming chair? You’ll never know.
As you get closer to him you start hearing Taehyung’s voice through his headset, yelling things that don’t really make sense to you, but you guess it’s a mix of curse words and orders.
You’ve been spending the entire weekend with Jungkook, making the most of the free days he’s been given. You watched mediocre comedy movies, ate takeout for lunch and dinner, took hours-long naps at least twice a day, and now… now it’s Monday, his break ends tomorrow, you’re bored and maybe a little horny which is honestly the same thing to you.
You expected you’d have sex at least once during the weekend since you haven’t had alone time with Jungkook in a long time, but all you’ve gotten these days was some heavy groping during make-out sessions that got interrupted by the concierge calling you to let you know the delivery guys were waiting for you.
You take a seat next to him and rest your head on his shoulder.
“Mornin’, sleepyhead.” Jungkook spares you a quick glance and laughs when you let out a long yawn. “I’m guessing you slept well?”
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” You pout even if you know he’s no longer looking at you, his eyes fixed on the screen in front of you.
You whine and snuggle your face on his neck in a weak attempt to get his attention, obviously failing to get it.
“You looked so —damnit, hyung, he was right in front of you!— you looked so comfortable, I didn’t wanna…” He slurs his words and leaves his mouth slightly parted as he concentrates on throwing a grenade at a hiding character.
If you’re being honest, you never paid enough attention to the games Jungkook plays, finding it way more interesting to watch how invested he is in winning; the sounds he makes, scrunching his nose every now and then.
“Didn’t wanna…?” You ask even though you know you already lost him.
You sigh and look up at his face, placing your hand on his thigh and squeezing the taut muscle softly. A smile creeps on your face when you see him lick his lips before he presses them together in a thin line. He’s trying not to get distracted but, by God, you wanna fuck.
“You horny?” he asks, always the romantic.
You hum and squeeze his thigh a little harder this time, feeling the muscle flex under your touch. You lick the skin of his neck with the tip of your tongue and suck on the sensitive spot right above his collarbone. Jungkook tilts his head to give you more space, eyes barely blinking as he tries to focus on playing.
“You keep playing your games when you should play with me instead.”
Taehyung yells before making more gagging noises that you’re not entirely sure are fake this time.
“Hyung, for your own sake, I’m turning my mic off.” You see him push some sort of button on his mic and use one of his hands to pull down his basketball shorts past his knees. You raise an eyebrow when you see his lack of underwear. “Take your panties off and sit on my cock.”
You laugh and you lean away from him. “You’re not even hard.”
“Just do it,” He laughs, sitting up straight on the couch to give you space. “Need me to prep you?”
You do as you’re told and push your panties down your legs, sitting on Jungkook’s lap quickly and carefully to not block his view, your face facing his. You take his cock in your hand and center it to your already wet entrance. “No need.”
You bite your lip as you focus on going slow as to not hurt his half-hard length, hearing Jungkook let out a dragged-out moan.
“Don’t move,” he says and wraps his arms around your waist as fast as he can to his hands back on the keyboard. “Give me five minutes to win, and then I’ll focus on you.”
You sigh and lean back on his chest in a lazy hug, hiding your face on the crook of his neck. Five minutes seem like an eternity to you, especially when you feel how Jungkook is hardening inside you.
An idea that is surely going to piss off Jungkook pops in your head and you smile in satisfaction. You feign innocence by sighing softly again at the same time as you clench the walls of your cunt around his cock, trying your best not to laugh at his horrified gasp and luckily succeeding.
Unfortunately, Jungkook is not the type to accept teasing when he’s focused on something else, so your fun doesn’t last long.
He thrusts up his hips and the head of his cock kisses your cervix momentarily. “Stop it.” He says through gritted teeth, ignoring the squeak that came out of your mouth.
“Can’t help it.” You whisper, not dropping the innocent act just yet, but you know it’s a little white lie that Jungkook won’t buy.
You wait a dreadfully long minute before you tighten your muscles around him again, softly but constantly, trying to pass off the devilish action as if your pussy is throbbing, something Jungkook knows you can’t help but do when he’s inside of you.
He groans and wraps one arm around your waist (you assume that he’s trying his best to keep playing with only one hand), using his grip on you to thrust up into you much harder this time. You cry and moan softly just to distract him.
“Don’t test me, baby,” oh, but you will. “I swear if you pull that shit again, I’m going to make your pussy so sore you’re gonna wish you hadn’t done that.”
He returns his attention to the game, his arm leaving your waist, and you wait just a bit more until he’s fully focused again to grind your hips on his, pressing your lips together to suppress an evil laugh. He grunts and takes his headset off, grabbing your chin with his hand and forcing you to look at him.
“You think that was funny? you’re a fucking brat, you know that?” If you didn’t know him better, you’d think he’s angry at you, but the amused smile on his face gives him away easily. “Fuck yourself on my cock if that’s what you want too so bad.”
He pulls your baggy t-shirt off and strokes the warm skin of your back. You grind your hips to feel him as deep as you can before you start bouncing on his lap at a slow but steady pace. He holds your hips with one hand in a tight grip while the other lean your body slightly to the back to attach his mouth to one of your breasts. His lips ghost over your boob as his tongue rolls around your nipple, biting the little bud to give you just the right amount of pain. You try to move slower to make his job easier, the bouncing of your tits making it hard for him to keep his mouth on you, but the palm of his hand hits your backside before he starts fucking up at you.
“Keep movin’,” he mumbles against your chest.
You look down at him and whimper. He looks so focused playing with your nipple, eyes closed and lips sucking on the perky, hardened bud before starting to move his tongue in a zig-zag motion, making you moan and throw your head back. Burying your fingers on his soft hair, you tug it softly, knowing how much he likes the slight burn on his scalp. His arm around your waist keeps your upper body much steadier this time, controlling the pace of his thrust to the way you both like.
You move one of your hands to cup your breast and squeeze it right in front of Jungkook’s face, smirking when he moans and his cock twitches inside you. He opens his mouth wider to suck on more skin, his teeth grazing your nipples.
He moves one of his arms to squeeze your neglected breast, pinching the nipple on his thumb and middle finger as his index finger flicks the nub quickly. You’re clenching and spilling your juices down his length, making lewd noises as his hips collide almost painfully with the back of your thighs.
“Gonna cum,” you warn, grinding your hips against him. “Kook, ‘m gonna cum.”
He groans before detaching his mouth from your breast. He holds you tightly and turns you both around to lay you down on the couch, propping one of his knees on it. One of his hands spreads your thighs further apart as he begins to fuck you as fast and hard as he can. His tongue finds your nipple again and sucks on it like a starved man
“’M in love with your tits,” A soft giggle comes up your chest and out of your mouth, quickly replaced by a loud cry as his hips shake your body up and down on the couch. “I’m in love with you.”
You sigh in contentment and throw your head back, looking down at Jungkook with your mouth open. He grabs your leg and throws it gently (sort of) over his shoulder, his cock digging deeper inside you and rubbing your sweet spot each time. You moan and arch your back, feeling little drops of sweat fall on your chest from Jungkook’s forehead. You’re both sweating and panting for air, so close to your orgasm that you’re fucking faster than two horny teenagers who were left home alone for the first time.
Jungkook buries his head on the crook of your shoulder, choked groans leaving his mouth as his thrusts get sloppy. You can feel him twitch inside you and you know he’s holding back until you cum first which doesn’t really take too long to happen, his dancer’s hips nail you perfectly and make you scream and shake as the bliss of your orgasm runs through your spent body. He rides out your high with a few more thrusts until he pulls out, jerking himself and looking at your eyes.
“Where?” he asks and you can barely focus on his words. You squeeze your tits together and stick out your tongue. “Shitshitshit,” his hand jerks the length of his cock a few times, his fingers focused under the head before he moans and spills his hot cum all over your boobs, some of it landing on your awaiting tongue.
He rests his body on top of yours momentarily, catching his breath before he pulls away to sit back on the couch. His hands help you straddle his hips again, caressing your thighs slowly. His fingers run through your hair as you both pant for air and look at each other for what seems an eternity. You lean your forehead against his, chests pressed together and feeling each other’s rapid heartbeats.
“You know what I just realized?” You wait until he mutters a soft ‘what’ against your shoulder to reply. “We never even kissed.”
He pulls away from your shoulder and raises an eyebrow, confusion tinting his face as he realizes. He grins and presses his lips to yours, kissing you softly and teasing your bottom lip with his tongue. You open up your mouth and invite his tongue past your lips, feeling it explore your mouth before he sucks on your tongue. The kiss is messy, wet, and uncoordinated, but you don’t care at all. It’s him and, as long as it’s him, you want anything and everything he’s got to offer.
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