pairing: student! fem reader x student! jeon jungkook
summary: when you finally get your crush’s number, you expect the start of an epic love story— not a random guy making fun of you because he thinks the guy you’ve been obsessed with for the last six months gave you a fake number. Jeon Jungkook, the one who replies, finds it entertaining and helps you chase the guy… at least until he finds out that the person he’s been helping date another guy is you, the girl he’s been obsessed with for the last two years.
genre/warning: this is a smau fic!! with narration included in some chapter but it’s mostly messages/tweets. very unfunny jokes. this is mostly crack/fluff.
authors note: chapter so long i couldn’t put my dividers 💔💔 the tweets have to be read from bottom to top btw okay bye<33 enjoy this is a mess and i had to delete a lot of things but i couldn’t make it shorter i’m sorry 😭😭 it would be better if u open the pics to read it>_<
chapter index | previous — next
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— chapter seven: holy crash-out!
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messy ass chapter but life is like that we know. i might forgotten to add some people im sorry guys. 💔💔
this is so funny bro, i was excited for an update but was late since there was an earthquake happening in our place cutting off our electricity and all but omg IM SO HAPPY IM GONNA THROW UP 🥰🥰🥰🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
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pairing: student! fem reader x student! jeon jungkook
summary: when you finally get your crush’s number, you expect the start of an epic love story— not a random guy making fun of you because he thinks the guy you’ve been obsessed with for the last six months gave you a fake number. Jeon Jungkook, the one who replies, finds it entertaining and helps you chase the guy… at least until he finds out that the person he’s been helping date another guy is you, the girl he’s been obsessed with for the last two years.
genre/warning: this is a smau fic!! with narration included in some chapter but it’s mostly messages/tweets. very unfunny jokes. this is mostly crack/fluff.
authors note: a lot of grammar mistakes cause i’m too lazy to edit them out>_<. a little plot twist there, next chapter the crash out of the century will arrived
chapter index | previous — next.
— chapter six: my name is jungkook
lowkey insane amount of chats. anyway the secret is out heheheh what do u think??
note: i love a jealousy moment ,, jus makes my pu$$y tingle yk
//
jeon jungkook has not stepped on university grounds for more than a decade.
he forgets how crowded it is and how much energy radiates around him. not just the noise—but the life of it. the way the air feels like a mix of eagerness and anxiety—the kind can is only really lived through in your 20s. the fluorescent lights buzz over his head as students start spilling out of lecture halls, laughter echoing down corridors like it belongs here—like it has nowhere else to be.
he stands just inside the entrance for a moment longer than necessary, hands buried deep in the pockets of his coat, shoulders slightly tense.
he feels older here.
okay.
fuck.
he is old.
jungkook is wearing a blue button up and slacks and it’s clear he’s a corporate rat… like, he should be someone these students should be sucking up to for networking purposes. like he’s a walking linkedin profile… and for some reason, it tugs at him. how he only took a few steps into your world and it is completely a version of life he already finished living.
it dawns on him.
truth be told; jungkook has never worried about your age gap. partly because he never really had to think about it—but now he does. now, he thinks about how you communicate and wonders if it’s because of your social culture. now, he thinks about how thankful he is that your humour is timeless. the kind that doesn’t heavily rely on social culture. now, he thinks about your world.
how you live in it.
how you love in it.
how you are in it.
he scans around before pulling his phone out and surprise surprise… there are no texts or miscalls from you. it confuses him and almost igniting a small flame of frustration.
his tongue presses against the inside of his cheek.
it’s been two weeks.
two weeks since he’s seen you in person. in his head, he tries to replay the last time he saw your pretty face. if he shuts his eyes hard enough and digs through the crevasse of his thoughts—he sees you clearly. the way you hug yourself when you laugh. the way you look when you’re tired—small and delicate. how you roll your eyes, unbeknownst to you how fucking cute you look when you try to be curt and cold.
he’s been living off your text messages and one voice memo since then—and even those have been scarce. your voice memo has been engraved in his head.
“sorry i’m just coming home from class—did you get the link i sent? can you confirm that you’re available for that appointment date? i also know a really cute baby store i want to check out after so… maybe—if you can… could you clear your day that day? okay. let me know! if not, we can find a different day. y-yeah. okay. i have to force myself to eat a banana now. bye.”
aside from that, it’s only been short replies from you. delayed responses and heart reactions instead of words or a continuation of the conversation he so desperately wants.
to make himself feel better, he reminded himself that you’re a student. you’re busy. you’re the pregnant one so maybe you’re more tired than usual and want to be on your phone less. at this point, he could be a writer with all the excuses he was pulling out of his ass for you.
yet, at the same time… he tried to tell himself not to read into it.
but tonight he couldn’t take it anymore.
jungkook: it’s friday
are u busy tonight?
can i see u?
even if it’s jus for a bit
yn: happy friyay unc
sure :) i have class till 6:15pm today tho
jungkook: i’ll pick u up
yn: wowowow
miss me much?
jungkook: yes
yn: chilllllll
baby misses u too lol
jungkook: and u?
yn: me?
i want soup lowk
jungkook: sure we can have soup
after u say u miss me too? lol
yn: nvm i don’t want soup 😛
jungkook: u jus said ….
stop being mean
are u taking ur iron pills
seen 3:02pm
yn: yes
jungkook: class ends at 6? i’m off at 5:30
seen 3:24pm
yn: cool
jungkook: i wanna see u :)
yn: i wanna see u too
jungkook: aw
see?
was that so hard to say?
and wtf was that 20 minute reply gap
yn: i’M IN CLASS ???
jungkook: and i’m at work but i have priorities
yn: isn’t ur boss ur best friend?
jungkook: so u remember things abt me? romantic
yn: go away
jungkook: see u in a bit
seen 3:26pm
he reread your delayed reply the entire time he was in his meeting. and right after? well, he went straight to your campus.
you didn’t really give him any info, but your location was still sharing with him… and thank god for that because your building is on the deeper side of the campus. it's tucked into an older section of the university. he takes note of how the floors creak more and how the lighting is dimmer than the newer buildings he had to go through to get to you.
he walks faster than he means to and opens a few wrong doors. jungkook mutters apologies and excuses himself past students, patience fraying.
by the third door he’s already irritated—until he hears your laugh.
it’s soft and familiar.
it reaches him before he even sees you… and it stops him mid-step. instictively, jungkook’s chest tightens. he turns towards the door and pushes it slowly.
… and there you are.
sitting near the front of the room, papers spread everywhere like how they usually are. there’s a highlighter between your teeth, a pen tucked behind your ear, and your hair is slightly messy in that unintentional way that happens when you’ve been studying for hours.
you look… young.
focused.
pretty.
jungkook’s gaze lingers before he even registers the other presence beside you. yet, the moment he sees him—it’s all he sees.
a man that looks about his age, wearing glasses and flirty grin is leaning over your shoulder. the man has one hand braced on the desk beside you, the other pointing at something in your notes. although there are still a few students around, packing up or socializing with one another, it looks like you two are the only people in the room. at least, that’s what jungkook’s green eyes filled with jealousy make him feel.
the sight is sickening.
your face is close to his. too close. so fucking close that if you turn your head even by the slightest—your noses would brush. jungkook feels himself holding his breath when the man dips his head lower, whispering something to make you laugh.
you don’t even laugh politely. you laugh for real.
that’s unfair.
he’s only heard that from you a handful of times… but this guy? this guy with the blond hair and performative glasses gets to make you laugh so easily that your head tilts back and your eyes crinkle in the way that jungkook shuts his eyes to replay?
jungkook feels something sharp settle low in his stomach.
not sudden rage.
not explosive jealousy.
something slower.
heavier.
it’s a sinking feeling—like watching someone else stand in a space he didn’t realize he missed occupying. how he feels slightly replaced in a way. competitive yet defeated upon arrival. to make matters worse; he notices everything in painful detail.
the way your knee is angled toward the guy.
how your sleeve brushes his arm when you reach for your paper.
how easy your smile looks.
jungkook swallows.
his throat feels dry. he clears his throat and the sound comes out lower—rougher. instantly, he regrets it because now it looks like he was trying to get your attention.
but maybe the embarrassment is worth it because you look up instantly.
your eyes fall onto his presence, your shoulders relax, and your entire face softens the moment you see him.
your eyes light up in a way that hits him square in the chest.
“hi,” you smile, pushing your chair back slightly. “you came.”
if jungkook could hit himself repeatedly with a nail gun right now, he would. he hates the way you said that… like you weren’t fully sure he would.
had he not made it clear that he was coming?
you say it like you’re relieved he did.
did you not trust that he would?
the tightness in his chest loosens just a little.
“yeah,” he manages to say.
stiffly, the man straightens his posture. he finally noticed jungkook. his eyes flick between the two of you—quick, observant. instantly, he gets it.
“jimin, this is jungkook.” you introduce, as you stand and begin to gather your notes. “jungkook, this is jimin.”
say more.
jungkook can’t help but feel like there’s a fire in his chest. he wants to ask you… why just his name? no label? no explanation?
jungkook shouldn’t care.
but he does.
jimin offers a polite smile, extending his hand as jungkook approaches.
“nice to meet you.”
jungkook shakes it, firm and controlled. his grip lingers half a second longer than necessary. it casues jimin to think for a second before giving him an odd look. with that, jungkook lets go.
“you too.” jungkook’s voice is calm, but his eyes flick once to where jimin had been standing too close moments ago. so much of him wants to say… see that space? too close.
yet, you don’t seem to notice the shift in air. you’re busy shoving papers into your bag.
“i was just finishing up,” you say lightly, not even looking up at either one of them. “did you find the building okay?”
“yeah,” jungkook says softly. “you have everything?”
you quickly finish up and zip up your backpack. before you can swing it over your shoulders, jungkook takes it from you. he’s swift about it—like he’s done it a million times before. you blink at his gesture but don’t question it any further. your back kind of hurts today anyway.
“we were going over my feedback on her last paper,” jimin interrupts. actually, he inserts himself rather naturally. what didn’t feel natural to jungkook was the next part where jimin compliments you by saying; “she’s doing really well.”
simply, jungkook hums.
internally, his pride flickers faintly under the jealousy before he can stop it.
of course you are. of course you’re doing well. you’re smart as fuck and pretty as fuck so he should fuck off.
in response to jimin’s comment, jungkook’s hands find your waist instinctively when you step closer. his warm palms settle there like muscle memory—even though this dynamic is still new.
still undefined.
jungkook murmurs; “ready?”as he guides you gently toward the door.
he isn’t forceful or anything… but he’s definitely establishing something. sending a message or whatever… to you and to jimin… to himself.
whatever the message is—you don’t flinch. you don’t question it. instead, you lean slightly into the contact like it’s normal now. partly because you trust his hands there… partly because you like his warmth.
jimin notices.
his eyes dip briefly to where jungkook is holding you, then back up.
“if you have more questions about my feedback,” jimin says, looking at you, “feel free to text me. you have my number.”
jungkook’s fingers flex once against your waist. he bites the inside of his cheek, trying his absolute best not to say anything. at times like these, he should stay quiet.
“yeah,” you smile politely at jimin. “thanks. have a good weekend!”
you bid your goodbye and turn around. jungkook nods once at jimin. it’s short and meaningless… he walks you out, his hand never leaves your waist as you step into the hallway.
if anything, jungkook draws you a little closer into his side once you’re out of the classroom—subtle pressure guiding your path.
halfway down the corridor, jungkook glances back. the first and only thing he notices is that jimin is still standing in the doorway watching you leave. jungkook holds his gaze for a second longer this time.
not aggressive.
not friendly.
just aware.
aware in a way he doesn’t want to be.
aware in a way he has to be.
then he looks forward again, jaw tight, keeping you tucked beside him as you walk. he tries to ignore the slow, unfamiliar pull in his chest that feels a lot like jealousy—and a lot like missing you more than he expected.
jungkook, you realize very quickly, is an unexpectedly good cook.
he’s a good cook in a quiet, competent way that makes you wonder how many nights he’s spent alone in this condo, learning how to perfect things no one was around to praise him for.
dinner had been ready in under forty minutes.
you’d watched him move around the kitchen like he owned every inch of it—sleeves pushed up to his forearms, veins faintly visible when he gripped the knife. everything was measured without looking, seasoned without tasting. like he knew what he was doing by heart. he’d timed the rice and the protein and the vegetables so they were all done at once, plating it neatly like presentation mattered even though it was just the two of you.
he includes all the good groups and you can’t help but notice how much it reflected him. balanced. intentional. thought out. real adult shit… and it shouldn’t feel intimate—watching a man cook—but it does. especially when he keeps sliding glances at you like he’s checking whether you’re comfortable in his space.
now you’re sitting across from each other at his dining table. you can’t help but let your eye wander around because his condo is exactly what you expected. there’s not a single dish in the sink, not a paper out of place, not a single thing out of place.. the counters shine and the floors look like they’ve never been stepped on. even the air smells clean—like linen and something woodsy underneath.
it’s so… him.
you take another bite, chewing slowly, trying to break the strange quiet stretching between you.
because something is off.
it started in the car.
jungkook was polite. attentive, even—hand on your thigh at red lights, asking if you were hungry, if you were tired—but there was a tightness in his jaw that never quite left.
you try to make conversation anyway. you yap about small things. school, the food, the weather… he answers, but it deosn’t feel like much.
finally, you set your fork down.
“is this… awkward?” you ask. your tone comes off a little irritated. you don’t intend it to, but it just does.
he looks up immediately, brows pulling together.
“what?”
“i know you’re the one who invited me over but…” you shrug a little, suddenly aware of how loud your heartbeat feels in the silence. “i can just go home if you don’t feel like having company.”
his expression softens for half a second—like the idea genuinely bothers him.
“it’s not awkward,” he sighs, leaning back in his chair. jungkook rubs his hand over his mouth, thinking. “i’m just… i guess i’m a little annoyed.”
you blink.
“why are you annoyed? did i do something?”
he doesn’t answer right away.
his eyes drop to his plate but he isn’t eating anymore—just pushing his food around slowly like he’s trying to organize thoughts that don’t want to line up. you can almost see the frustration building in him. you know that it’s not at you, but at his inability to explain whatever this feeling is.
it makes your chest tighten.
“jungkook,” you say softer. “talk to me.”
he exhales through his nose. for a moment, he musters the courage to be honest with you. but the moment he opens his mouth, your phone dings with a notification. you check your phone and begin to text back.
“sorry, it’s jimin.” you say, eyes glued to your screen. you scoff at a new text notification and type away.
and just like that, the tension finally snaps.
“should a teacher’s assistant be texting a student during dinner time?” jungkook asks. “couldn’t wait till monday?”
you frown. “he texted me a meme.”
“oh… so he’s your friend.”
you pause.
“is he not allowed to be?” you ask, putting your phone down and focusing on him. “are you jealous or something?”
he scoffs, almost disbelieving. “what? i don’t get to be?”
then, a beat.
“because I am.”
you swallow.
“why are you jealous?” you ask, quieter now.
jungkook’s jaw ticks. he wants to get this off his chest. it’s been pouding, trying to burst out ever since he saw you two together. “___, it wasn’t exactly exhilarating watching him be all over you.”
you sit up straighter.
“jungkook, he was not all over me. it’s not that serious—”
“yes it is.”
the firmness in his voice makes you pause.
“…w-why?” you stammer a little. “how could it be that serious?”
he hesitates—like he knows he’s about to sound unreasonable but can’t stop himself.
“you could fall for it.”
“fall for what?”
“i don’t know,” he mutters. “does he even know you’re pregnant with my baby? you aren’t even showing yet… so i’m worried that… yeah, he’s flirting with you. texting you memes when you’re having dinner with me. making excuses for you text him—bullshit on feedback about your essays… it’s annoying. and… you might fall for it. his tricks or whatever. ”
you huff a small breath despite the tension.
“oh, so he’s a magician now?”
jungkook doesn’t smile. if anything, he looks more irritated.
“you could choose him over boring me.”
the words sit between you—raw, unpolished, too honest to be taken back. could this be? the jeon jungkook insecure about something? your expression softens immediately.
“jungkook, you’re not boring.”
“yeah, okay. whatever.” he says, unconvinced. he then reaches for his glass like the conversation is already over.
“jungkook—”
“it’s fine.”
“jungkook—”
he exhales sharply, not looking at you.
“can we drop this please?”
silence.
you watch him, no words in your mouth good enough to make him feel better yet. so, you take the time to analyize him. the way his shoulders stay tense, the way he stares at the table instead of you.
and suddenly you understand.
this isn’t just jealousy.
it’s fear.
quietly, you speak.
“i’d choose you.” you confess. “you and your boring.”
that finally gets something out of him—a small eye roll, but it’s softer, less defensive. you can see the wall cracking.and then, like he feels exposed and needs to cover it, he starts talking again. his words spill before he can filter them.
“i box,” he says.
you blink at the sudden shift.
“i golf every last sunday of the month with my brother and dad. my best friend’s name is jin—he owns a restaurant, so sometimes when he’s short staffed i help out. that’s why i can cook. also, i like to do it. i like food.”
he gestures vaguely to the table.
“i can’t bake for shit though.”
you smile faintly.
he keeps going.
“i can speak four languages. english, korean, japanese, and chinese. but i really want to learn french. i like french and everyone keeps saying the pronunciation is all in the lips, but i can’t seem to get it right… and i want to, so bad… get it right.”
his eyes flicker up to yours then, softer now.
“i want to go to paris one day.”
a pause.
“i thought about it… paris with you and the baby.”
your breath catches slightly.
he swallows.
“am i still boring now?”
you just stare at him as your heart suddenly does something strange in your chest. it’s the way he said with you so naturally—like it was already decided. like it’s happening. like it’s… predestined.
you like the idea of that.
but now the air feels different now. warmer. more fragile.
“just a little,” you tease. “you’d be more intersting if you tell me about your ex.”
jungkook lets out a surprised laugh—low, genuine. like everything is fixed. like it’s all okay now… because it is. he feels seen now… so he pushes for the moment to last a little longer.
for more time with you.
“sure,” jungkook agrees. “but only if you promise to stay the night tonight.”
Ok it's my first time doing a kinky ask .... but y/n having an orgasm and squirted and JK was shocked so he juSt violently pounds inTo her with a repeating manTRa of "give mE, Give me more" and being the hardeSt he's ever been iM crying 🤐🤐👉🏻👈🏻
haven’t written one of these asks in a while and I feel bad, but here you go! please forgive me... :(
~
"The louder you are, the harder I fuck you.”
You were trying to control and quiet your moans down because your dorm has super thin walls. You were sure that the neighbors can hear everything and they probably hate you by now. But his deal was so intriguing that you couldn’t care less anymore.
Your whimpers and moans easily slipped past your lips after a long time of being suppressed, Jungkook’s name falling out of your mouth like it was made for it. He smirks and gladly fastens his pace, putting your leg up to hook around his waist so that he can shove his cock deeper inside your pussy.
“That’s it...” he mutters deeply with a hot tone, the sound causing shivers down your spine, “I know you like it when I fuck you rough, baby girl.” He licks his lips and lifts a brow up to you, “Yeah baby?”
“Ohhh-- fuck yea,” you inhale a sharp breath when he suddenly hits the right spot from the new angle. “There, there, there! Right there Kook!”
You squeal loudly after he brings his tattoo-covered hand down to your cunt as his fingers start to rub your clit furiously, desperate to bring you to an orgasm. You can feel your core tightening as your mind thinks of nothing but the pleasure. The build-up was overwhelming, too overwhelming at this point that you couldn’t breathe properly.
“B-Baby,” you say as your legs start to quiver. Your arms fail to wrap around his neck for you didn’t have the energy to do so, hence you only resulted in grabbing the sheets beside you. “Jungkook please, I’m -- ohh s-shit --”
Jungkook watches your head throwing back in euphoria, exposing your sweaty neck for him. His skilled fingers continue their mission to play with your throbbing clit, while his thrusts deepen.
“You’re so tight, baby,” he chuckles, “cum for me. C’mon, I know you want to. Be a good princess and cum all over my dick.”
But Jungkook got a lot more than what he asked for.
You suddenly squirt all over his cock and hips, some juices landing on his abs and onto the sheets. Everything around you turns black as if you just passed out, seeing stars. Jungkook, however, was stunned.
He gasped so loudly when he watched your body shake and quiver like that, the way how you squeezed his cock so fucking tight -- he wanted to experience it again.
“Holy fuck,” he groans, “you just...you fucking just...” he couldn’t believe himself. Did he really just made you squirt?
You didn’t even have the time to recollect your thoughts or what just happened, and Jungkook was already wrapping his arms around your body to put you into another position. He fixes you on all fours before shoving his cock right back in, making you scream.
“You’re so hot, god fucking damn it.” A sudden spank to your ass makes you mewl, closing your eyes tight. Jungkook kneels behind you and hikes his left leg up, planting his foot on the bed to control his thrusts even more. He pounds your cunt harder, not caring if you’re too sensitive for another round and if your body is a quivering mess.
“More, give me fucking more,” he mutters underneath his breath, almost as if more to himself, “Give it to me, baby. Give it to me.” You notice how desirous he sounds, frantic curse words and moans being emptied out. A pout forms your lips when you immediately feel another familiar sensation in your lower stomach, making your mind dizzy once more. “Mmngh, s-sensitive...”
He disregards your words and grabs onto the roots of your hair from your scalp, making your head tilt back ferociously. The slapping sounds of your skin hitting together, mixed with the wet squelching noises your drenched pussy makes whenever his cock fucks you in and out were music to his ears.
“Squirt one more time for me, one more. Give me more, give me more, give me more baby girl.” A sudden desperate whine escapes Jungkook’s mouth, “Please fucking do it again.”
It didn’t take long for you to do it a second time, for his big cock was repeatedly hitting and rubbing against your g-spot, and you were still high from your first climax. Your upper body falls to the bed as you gave Jungkook what he wants. His pupils enlarge from the sight of your hips shuddering as your cunt poured more of your wetness out, spilling onto the bedsheets. He pulls his cock out to watch you make a mess, watching the mess he created.
Jungkook, also known as Hades the king of underworld, has to run a company on earth to watch over his future soul targets. What he didn't expect though, was to see you; a beautiful and ethereal girl who grows flowers wherever she sets a foot. The dark urge to take you was strong enough to blind his judgment, making him want to steal you from Demeter and go to war with Olympus itself.
Jungkook x f. reader
3.5k words.
Genre: Hades and persephone au | yander-ish.
Tags: Possessive behavior, retelling of persephone and hades, captivity, Jungkook is infatuated and whipped for reader, reader is bubbly and innocent, smut, kidnapping but it's kind of consensual, grumpy x sunshine type of trope, fluff.
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Your wide and radiant eyes took in the sight in front of you; a beautiful garden near a big and grey building that made you part your lips in awe, you’ve never seen the human world before, everything was so different from your home in the Olympus. Your bared feet touched the grass with delight, you inhaled deep, frowning a little at the bitter taste of the air here.
The ground below you grow flowers every time you set a foot on it, as if nature was welcoming you in with tender love.
You stopped at the sign standing tall at the entrance of the beautiful garden. You tilted your head to the side, remembering your reading classes with the nymphs.
PRIVATE PROPERTY: it says in red. But you shrugged, not sure what it means by private, the garden was big and open, not to mention that mother nature is not the property of anyone but herself. You walked pass the sign without any care in the world, brushing softly the petals of the flowers growing tall below your feet.
Your mother was too overprotective over you, so much that it reached an unbearable point. She always says that you’re safe only in the Olympus and under her care, that the land of the humans was too dangerous for a goddess like you. Your curiosity for the outside world was stronger than the fear she instills in you. That’s why you’re here, visiting the earth behind her back. It will just for a couple of minutes, and then you will return home safe and sound.
You kneel on the grass, picking flowers while the breeze moves your long hair, unknowing that you were being watched.
Jungkook stood tall in front of the large window glass of his office that stretch from the ceiling to the floor. He had his hands in his pockets, and his breath was taken away by the sight of a stunning girl in his company’s gardens, picking flowers as if she was fucking Cinderella.
He’s known for having an iron grip and being ruthless with anyone who dares to disrespect him and his territory. Invading his property as if it were a public park was reason enough to have you on your knees begging for forgiveness. He doesn’t tolerate people that acts out of line, that’s why everyone in this building and in the underworld flinch with terror at the very sight of him.
He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side when he caught the sight of flowers growing from your touch, you looked ethereal and otherworldly in his garden surrounded by flowers, as if you were in your element. He couldn’t take his dark eyes off you, feeling captivated by your beauty.
His brows knitted in a deep frown, who are you? And what are you doing here? He didn’t know about any goddess or semi-goddess that grows flowers besides Demeter, and she didn't have a daughter that he knows of.
His gaze burned on you so intently that you felt it, lifting your chin up to look at him from your spot. And you did something that took him by surprise, you waved a hand at him with a bright and sweet smile on your face, making Jungkook inhale sharp at the gesture. You looked so beautiful smiling so brightly, it made Jungkook’s pupils dilate in a predatory way.
He swallows hard, his fists clenching in his pocket with the urge to grab. You, the Cinderella girl, are not aware of the darkness that you have just awakened, triggering something deep and primal within Jungkook.
“Bring her up to my office,” he barked an order to the quiet assistant from behind him without looking away from you. The woman shriek at his voice, “now!” he screamed turning around to throw daggers at her, making the poor assistant run away to get to you.
He licked his pierced bottom lip when you kept picking flowers unaware of the predator hovering over you, ready to pounce at its prey. But first, he’ll find out who you are and what are you doing here, fragile and innocent, in a world full of evil beings and humans.
You won’t be out of his sight until he figured you out.
The office lights flickered and the temperature dropped suddenly, turning the place into a fridge. Jungkook’s eyes turned deep blue when his assistant took you by surprise, almost dragging you inside of his building. He blinked quickly with a frown, his emotions were getting the best of him and he wasn’t sure why, when he gets carried away like this by his instincts, his powers get out of control too. But no one has control over his emotions besides himself, let alone a Cinderella girl like you.
That’s why he wanted to know you, and why did you have a certain effect on him.
He turned around when you entered his office, sucking in a quick breath when he noticed that you are even more beautiful this close. You were glowing with your beautiful sundress and bright aura in his dull and dark office, a strong contrast.
“Wow, this place is so big,” you said in awe, looking to your surroundings with wide and curious eyes. And then you spotted Jungkook staring at you from afar.
You walked quickly towards him erasing the distance between you two, making Jungkook frown, taking him by surprise, no one else has ever approached him by their own will, people were too scared of him to do that. But you weren’t scared at all, not with that big and open smile of yours.
“Oh, hi there! You’re the man that was looking at me?” you asked him when you were close enough, looking up at him through your eyelashes. Your voice was soft and innocent, and your eyes glinted with wonder.
“Yes, you’re lucky I'm in a good mood today so I don't have you rotting in my cell in the underworld for trespassing on my territory," he mocked, arching an eyebrow in disdain. You were so lucky to be this pretty, or else he would’ve thrown you to a dungeon deep in the underworld long ago.
You blinked confused, tilting your head to the side. Your gaze was wide and hesitate.
“Your territory…? But- it’s mother’s nature territory! The grass and the flowers belong to herself only!” you remarked with a frown, as if he was the odd one and not you.
Jungkook lifted his brows and snorted with disbelief, he was for the first time in his immortal life at loss of words. You truly did act like a princess from a fairy tale, it amused him.
“I don’t know from what fairy tale or fantasy world you came from, but as long as I bought this building, its territory and garden you step in belongs to me,” he growled with his eyes glowing blue again, you were triggering his worst emotions. Jungkook’s assistant gasped with fear at that sight, terrified of her boss mood.
But instead of scaring you too, it made you look at him with surprise.
“Your eyes,” you whispered in awe, “you’re handsome.” And with those simple words you disarmed him, melting Jungkook’s anger away.
He let out a small cough to hide his surprise, he didn’t like to be taking aback, but with you it was impossible not to be.
Jungkook crossed his arms over his chest, roaming his dark eyes over your body from head to toe, frowning when he noticed you were bared-foot.
“Who are you?” he asked flicking his gaze up at you, “Where did you come from? And what are you doing in my territory?” His voice lowered an octave, sounding intimidating enough to make you avert your eyes with unease.
You played a little with your fingers, not looking into his eyes. He didn’t like to see you nervous or insecure, regretting for a second speaking to you like that. But he shook those thoughts away, you didn’t deserve a different treatment from any other intruder.
“I can’t tell you.” You muttered tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, looking at him with uncertainty.
He narrowed his eyes at you, clenching his jaw and feeling his patience running thin.
“Do you want me to force you?” He threatened, and the temperature of the office dropped again, making you flinch and hug yourself.
Your eyes widened with fear flashing on them for the first time, and Jungkook for some reason hate the sight.
He sighed composing himself, pinching the bridge of his nose to not lash out on you. He just couldn’t bear to see any hint of fear in your pretty and innocent eyes.
“Are you in danger?” He asked more calmly this time.
Your features softens, shaking your head.
“No, I- escaped from home, I’m not from earth, I’m like you.”
That intrigued Jungkook even more.
“Then you’re from the Olympus?” He asked, and you nodded at his words. “Do you know who am I?” He worded it with caution, and you shook your head again.
That was the reason of why you weren’t scared of him, everyone who knows him is aware of the power he holds in the underworld, it wasn’t something to take lightly.
“You don’t look like a bad person,” you muttered.
Jungkook hold his breath sharply. No being or soul told him those words in his entire lifetime.
“What?”
“I think you’re grumpy but not bad.” You said innocently, as if you’re words didn’t cut deep within Jungkook. You were the first person that treat him this lightly, and he doesn’t know how to feel about it.
Jungkook remained silent for a minute, staring at you, thinking what to do with you. You are a hidden and unknown goddess, unaware of the world, which means that you were locked up and hidden away for a reason. For all he knows you can be a piece to jeopardize the Olympus. And he also wants to know why your presence is so triggering for him.
“You will stay at my place tonight, it’s too late for you to be wandering around on your way to Olympus. I’ll get you there tomorrow safely,” he said it as a suggestion but it was an order, and you noticed, frowning and hesitating.
“But-“
“I said it’s too late and dangerous for you. Do you want to get hurt being all by yourself out there?” His eyes glowed blue again, the temperature dropping and his patience running thin. He tilted his head back, closing his eyes and breathing deep to compose himself, his emotions were getting the better of him.
“How do you do that? Turning your eyes blue, I mean.” You asked with awe, looking at him with wonder flashing your big and innocent eyes. That made him smile a little, melting his anger away. You were too cute for your own good.
“Let’s say a few people can make me do that when they get under my skin,” he teased, making you giggle.
That night he brought you to his house, a place that was sacred for him, that no one else besides him and his shadow has stepped a foot in. It’s almost alarming how you’re becoming the exception of many rules in his life. He throws that thought at the back of his mind to worry about it another time.
You were like a child watching and experiencing the world for the first time. You have this euphoric-like wonder about all the things surrounding you, convincing him even more about you being a princess out of a fairy tale. He just stared at you in silence, with his hands in his pockets and a little smile curling on his lips. Thank God no one was around to see him this whipped.
But then, his pet from the underworld chose to make an appearance in that moment, and Jungkook assume that it will scare you away. After all, it is a big black dog with three heads, who wouldn’t be afraid of that beast?
You weren’t though. You took him again by surprised when you cooed at his beast-dog, walking towards it as if it was a fucking kitten or puppy.
“Be careful, he’s a beast from the-“ His words were cut off by the supposed “dangerous” beast from the underworld barking playfully and happily at you, wagging his big tail as if it was a fucking puppy and not a beast from the hell itself.
Jungkook shook his head with disappointment, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at the scene before him with disbelief. You were petting the dogs’ heads softly, ignoring its dangerous and frightening built.
“Okay that’s enough,” he said pulling you away from his beast, making you pout and making the dog whimper. Jungkook throw a threatening gaze towards it, shutting its whimpers. “Behave like the beast you are,” he warned through gritted teeth.
“Don’t be mean he’s just a puppy, even if he’s big, he has feelings!” Jungkook arched a brow at your words. He? Since when his beast was a he? But you were walking away from him before he could ask you. You were going to his kitchen.
You were eating all of his candy and sweet treats, saying things like the nymphs from back home only cook you healthy meals. He mentally noted that blurt of new information; you were under the care of nymphs in the Olympus, isolated and ignorant about the outside world.
He took you to the guest room where you’ll spend the night, leaving you a change of clothes.
Jungkook sighed once he was in his bedroom, stretching his neck and massaging his temples. He was too tired, drained by the events from today. You were a lot for him, your mere existence felt like a threat to his routine and comfort zone. He just can’t figure out the effect you have on him, like a spell. Maybe you were a witch?
He fell asleep with those thoughts running his mind, dreaming about dark flowers and black trees growing in the underworld, with a beautiful queen dressed in a purple gown eating pomegranate seeds.
Jungkook woke up suddenly, sitting on his bed with his breath labored and his naked chest covered in cold sweat. Something woke him up, and that something was you, sleeping next to him snugly without any care in the world. He frowned at your audacity, waking you up. You blinked your sleepy eyes open, looking up at him with a frown.
“What the fuck are you doing in my bed?” He barked, sounding meaner than he intended.
For the first time you looked embarrassed, your cheeks turned red and you didn’t meet his eyes, playing with your fingers above the sheets.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be inappropriate. It’s just that I always sleep with the nymphs back home, I’m not used to sleep alone, and-and this place is so… dark and I was a little bit scared,” you said in a quiet and thin voice, avoiding eye contact.
You just had melted Jungkook’s rotten heart, making him soften his gaze, breaking his defenses.
“Okay, you can sleep here but just for tonight,” he said with a sigh, ignoring your chirp sound of happiness.
That night he didn’t sleep at all.
And that wasn’t the only night you two sleep together, you were warming the left side of his bed for one week. And it wasn’t awkward or weird at first.
Until one night. You were tossing and turning around in your sleep, and Jungkook ignored it, thinking you were just having a bad dream. Until you moaned softly, making him widen his eyes and inhale sharp. The sound was high-pitched but soft, stirring something inside of Jungkook. But he, again, chose to ignore it, trying to fall asleep.
“Jungkook,” you whimpered his name, turning around until your chest faced his back, panting near the back of his head.
And in that moment, he snaps. After all he was just a man, one with urges and needs. And it happens that you awake all of the dangerous instincts within him.
He turned around, facing you. He inhaled sharp at the sight of your plump parted lips letting out soft moans, and your pretty face covered in cold sweat. Your brows were slightly frowned, and your sounds were too sweet for him to bear.
“Y/n…” he woke you up gently, making you blink your eyes open with confusion. “You were having a good dream?” That made you blush profusely, but you didn’t avert your eyes from him, even though you were embarrassed.
“I dreamed about you,” you whispered softly, with that glint of innocence in your eyes.
He cursed under his breath, closing his eyes to not lose control of his urges.
“Sweetheart, be careful, it’s too late and you don’t know what you’re saying-“
You interrupted him by getting closer to him. An inch separating both of your bodies.
“I want to experience what I dream, with you. I’ve never done that before and I want to.”
He was taken aback by how a sweet mouth can say such sinful words and make them sound innocent.
“Do you know what you’re asking for? If… we do this, there’s no going back. You’ll be mine, all of you. I am a very possessive man y/n, you have no idea,” his voice dropped an octave and his words sounded like a warning of something you should be aware of, but you never listen.
The air around you two turned thick, and Jungkook’s heavy and piercing stare made you feel goosebumps. It was intoxicating being near him, the thrill of danger rushing your veins turned you on. You reached a hand towards his cheek, stroking with your thumb the skin under his eye softly, making him close his eyes with a blissed-out expression, he put his big hand above yours. He was like a dangerous beast being treated with gentleness for the first time.
“I don’t mind belonging to you.” And with those simple words Jungkook snapped his eyes open, looking at you like a predator ready to pounce its prey.
That was the last straw for his self-control, he warned you but you didn’t listen. Now there was no turning back.
The temperature of the room dropped, and Jungkook’s eyes glowed with a blazing blue color, taking your breath away. A dark aura wrapped the both of you, and you knew it has something to do with Jungkook’s change of mood.
He kneels above you, caging your body with his legs and hands. His piercing gaze never leaves you, pinning you like a predator that won’t lose sight of its target. His hand wander on your body, making your breath quicken and your heart pound. He took away your clothes softly, tearing apart your underwear when it got stuck in your knees, making you giggle. He took off his jogger right after leaving you naked under him.
His hungry eyes roamed your body, devouring with his eyes every part and every corner of your body, drinking in the view to save the image for later. You felt your cheeks heating up with embarrassment and desire.
He widened your legs, resting the back of your knees on his shoulders, exposing your folds shamelessly for him. You wanted to closed your legs but he didn’t let you, kissing your lips fiercely to distract you from your shyness. His mouth devoured yours, sucking and biting your lips like a starve man, making you moan into his mouth.
You inhaled sharply when you felt the tip of his cock opening your entrance, making you frown with pain. He soothed you by kissing your cheeks softly while shoving slowly his thick and large cock into you, splitting you open and watering your eyes with unshed tears. Jungkook licked the first tear that dropped from your eyes, kissing your eyelids and whispering sweet nothings into your ear.
And then he snaps, grunting and burying himself inside of you, breathing deep. His brows were frowned in pleasure and his lips slightly parted; he was staring down at you with his blue eyes darkening dangerously. He rocked your body up and down against the matter, ramming into you with force and turning your pain and discomfort into pleasure. You moaned and sobbed at his rough thrusts, being dragged by the force of his hips rolling against yours. It was a lot to take, so you wrapped your arms around his neck to hold onto something.
Jungkook’s poundings became stronger and deeper, making you let out a silent scream and coming so hard that your eyes turned white for a second, whimpering in overstimulation when Jungkook kept ramming into you. He was staring down at you with his face scrunched up in pleasure and his jaw clenched, letting out a deep and affected groan when he came, filling you up to the brim.
That night you fell asleep wrapped by his arms, unaware that the next day he will bound you forever to the underworld by giving you pomegranate seeds.
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jungkook is the epitome of a boyfriend. he’s tender, protective and utterly devoted. women tend to fall for men that are obsessed, and are willing to kill for them. so when the truth begins to unravel, you’re forced to confront a terrifying question, what if the man who’d kill for you… already has?
genre : dark romance, obsession, angst, dom!jungkook x sub!oc
warnings : koo is so whipped for oc it’s unhealthy, murderer!jungkook, stalking & obsessive behaviour ( but he is not controlling of what she does ), unprotected sex, creampie, heavy dirty talk, breeding kink, oc is easily manipulated, description of slight gore scenes, he cums inside her.
ps : can you tell I watch a lot of cop tv shows?… my all time fav show is Brooklyn-99 hehe.
the city outside was heavier than usual, as droplets of water fall onto the window beside you, inside the little bookstore café, it was warm. almost too warm.
the scent of old pages and cinnamon filled the air, and your cup of lavender tea rested gently beneath your fingers.
“god, it’s pouring,” mina said, brushing rain from her coat as she slid into the seat across from you. “girl, i swear the sky’s been crying like all week.”
you chuckle lightly, swirling your tea. “the city’s probably going through a breakup or something.”
mina scoffed. “or maybe it’s just cursed.” she leaned in. “so… are you seeing him tonight?”
you didn’t answer right away. your gaze flickered toward the window, “probably. he said he might pick me up, but im pretty sure he’s with his friends right now.”
“might? girl, that man would literally burn the world to walk you across the street.”
you just laugh quietly. “hey! he’s just… attentive.”
“attentive?” mina raised an eyebrow. “you told me he showed up outside your work at midnight. you weren’t even on shift.”
you shrugged, feeling a sudden warmth rise to your cheeks. “he said i wasn’t answering the phone and he didn’t know that i was already home, he just thought i was still working. he’s sweet, mina. intense? yeah, sure. but sweet.”
“babe…sweet is flowers. a little clingy. not ‘i tracked your phone just to see your smile’ sweet.”
you opened your mouth to protest, but something shifted behind the glass.
mina stopped talking when she noticed a tall figure enter the lively café.
he dressed in black from collar to cuff, damp hair curling softly where it brushed his cheekbones. the darkness of his clothes stood out in the brown and beige themed café.
he didn’t even glance at mina.
“you’re late,” you teased gently as he reached your table.
“i’m never late to you,” jungkook said, voice low and warm, wrapping around you like silk.
he leaned down, brushing his lips over your temple. “you looked so pretty sitting here baby, i almost didn’t want to interrupt.”
you smiled, cheeks turning a light shade of pink. a shade that nobody would notice on you, but he did. he always did.
“it’s okay. we were just talking—”
he finally looked at mina. the smile in his eyes vanished.
mina shifted under his stare. “hey.”
jungkook nodded once. nothing more.
“well, i should get going then. it’s pouring and i wouldn’t want jake to worry.” mina muttered, grabbing her umbrella. “call me later, okay?”
you blinked, nodding. “oh! no yeah— get home safe, babe. text me once you’re home!”
jungkook watched her go until the door swung closed behind her. then, like a switch flipped, he turned back to you with a softness that made your chest ache.
“everything okay?” you asked.
he took your hand across the table, fingers cold from the rain. “mm. missed you… but now that i’m here, yeah. everything’s perfect.”
“i missed you too.”
your fingers delicately brush his jaw as your lips perfectly mould into his for a gentle kiss.
“well, today morning was kind of slow,” you said, gently twirling the spoon between your fingers.
“we had this customer come in and ask if we sold perfume, at a bookstore. like hello? i literally stopped, looked down at the pile of books i was restocking and then back up at him. and he still didn’t get the hint.”
jungkook gave a soft laugh, but it didn’t reach his eyes. the comedic detail in the story becoming unfunny the moment you made it known that the customer was a male.
“did you talk to him for long?”
you blinked. “the customer?”
“yeah.” his thumb rubbed small circles into the back of your hand, perfectly casual if not for the slight pressure behind it.
“not really,” you said with a little frown. “i just pointed him to the perfume shop down the street after. why?”
“nothing, baby.” he smiled, that dimpled grin that always made your stomach flip. “i just like hearing about your day.”
“well, i also alphabetized the horror section again,” you continued, trying to lighten the mood.
“someone keeps putting stephen king under ‘z.’ i think it’s an act of rebellion at this point. either that or they’re purely rage-baiting me, and it’s working.”
jungkook tilted his head. “yeah? maybe they’re just trying to get your attention.”
“good luck to them, then,” you said, grinning. “because my attention span ends at the letter ‘h.’”
his smile lingered, but his grip on your hand didn’t loosen.
“did anyone else try to get your attention today?”
you gave him a puzzled look. “huh? you mean like… flirt with me?”
“maybe.”
you snorted, slightly. “baby, me and mina both wear matching pyjama shirts with jeans to work everyday…i think i’m safe.”
“you’re not,” he said so softly it was almost lost under the hum of the café, caressing your soft skin.
“what?”
“you’re never safe,” he repeated, eyes darkening slightly as he leaned in. “not out there. not without me.”
the words should have chilled you. but the way he said them —with such devotion, such certainty. it sent a strange heat curling down your spine.
“i’m fine, though,” you said gently.
“i made it here on my own, didn’t i?”
“you didn’t see the man who followed you three blocks.”
you froze.
“…what?”
jungkook’s smile returned. “don’t worry, hm? he stopped when i got close. i don’t think he’ll be a problem anymore.”
you stared at him. “are you serious?”
you wondered if he was just joking. but then again, the look in his eyes and the way he sat next to you as if he’d pounce on someone if they were in your vicinity was hard to believe he was.
“do you think i would let anyone hurt you?”
his voice was low. intimate. possessive.
something about the way he said it made your breath catch, somewhere between fear and fascination.
“jungkook…. how do you even know he was following me?”
he lifted your hand and pressed his lips to your knuckles.
“i just happened to be there, baby. that’s all. i promise.”
jungkook had always had eyes on his girl. he refused to let you out of his sight even when you weren’t physically with him.
camera. bugs. wires. location trackers. everything and anything, so he knew that you were safe. it started off with him getting anxious about your whereabouts, and then four years later, it ended up with him following your every move.
he wasn’t being controlling, he was perfectly fine with you having your alone time with your friends. girl, friends. but he never knew what could happen on the way home, or even when you leave to go to the toilet for a few minutes.
whenever a man dared to look at her in the wrong way, he'd take action. he didn’t care, he just wanted her all to himself. she was for him to see, for him to touch.
he moved to the window and opened it an inch,
he lit a cigarette and took a long breath, eyes flicking to the building across the street.
fourth floor. left window. lights were currently off.
good.
‘that fucker had finally learned.’ he thought.
jungkook’s jaw clenched as he exhaled, thinking about the situation.
just two nights ago, he’d seen the man watching her — watching her from that window like he had the fucking right.
like he had the fucking right to look at what was his, and only god knew what that guy was envisioning when he was looking at you. that thought alone made jungkook go feral.
so, jungkook had knocked on his door half an hour later, he was calm, friendly even.
when the door creaked open, he hadn’t said a word.
just smiled.
and then he’d stepped inside.
he’d returned to your apartment an hour later, hands clean, smile playing on his face. you were asleep by then, soft music playing from your phone. you’d left a blanket out for him.
you always did, even when you didn’t know where he went. and you never bothered to spam text and call him whenever he didn’t tell you where he was at late at night.
that was love. trust, that you had in him.
and he would do anything to protect it.
the rain had returned a week later, slightly killing the mood, again. but inside the apartment, it was all warmth and comfort.
you were curled into jungkook’s lap, your head rested against his chest, ear pressed right over his heartbeat.
the beat rhythm was steady, comforting, and so very his.
you were wrapped in the thinnest piece of clothing, a pink silk night wear that barely covered your ass, and the v-neck cutting was plunged deep.
your bare legs tangled with his as you reached blindly for a piece of popcorn from the bowl resting near his thigh.
“baby, you keep eating all the caramel ones,” jungkook murmured against your hair, pouting slightly.
you smiled, giggling slightly without looking up. “you’re just too slow.”
“i’m just letting you win.”
“no, you’re not.”
“no,” he agreed, amused. “i’m not.”
you looked up at him, eyes sparkling from the tv’s glow, and tilted your face toward his. “you love me anyway, though.”
his hand slid up your thigh in a lazy, lingering caress. “i do. more than anything. you know that.”
you shifted, climbing into his lap more fully now, straddling him. you pressed your forehead against his, your smile softening. “sometimes i think you love me too much.”
his fingers dug gently into her hips. “that’s not a thing.”
you kissed him then, slowly.
he responded quickly, the feeling of your lips on his had his chest pounding, his arms winded around your waist, pulling you tighter against him.
your hands found his jaw, then slid into his hair, curling into the soft strands at the nape of his neck.
his lips parted for yours, deepening the kiss, tongue meeting hers with a hunger that always lingered just below the surface of him.
he tasted like… need. he needed you. more than anything.
he let his fingers flex on her thighs, holding you still even as you shifted closer, needing more, needing all of him.
your breath hitched when he tilted you back slightly, your mouth trailing from your lips to your jaw, then down your neck, grazing just above your collarbone.
“tell me what you want, angel.” he whispered.
you opened your mouth to speak against his lips softly when—
ding. ding. ding
you stilled.
the phone on the coffee table lit up again.
ding.
jungkook sighed, pulling back slightly, visibly irritated by the interruption. you blinked yourself out of the trance and reached for your phone.
unknown number:
you looked so pretty tonight.
mm and that hat hoodie doesn’t hide much.
i saw you laughing…. he doesn’t deserve you.
why don’t you smile like that when you’re alone?
your stomach dropped.
you froze, reading each line again and again.
“baby? what is it?”
you slowly handed him the phone, fingers shaking. “i—i don’t know who that is. i’ve never—jungkook, is someone watching me?”
his eyes scanned the messages. stillness overtook him. his hand tightened around the phone.
“how long has this been happening?” he asked, too calm.
“this is the first time. i swear. i don’t—how would they know i was wearing your hoodie? we didn’t even go out today, i just—” your voice cracked.
you looked around, suddenly paranoid. the windows. the blinds. “is someone outside? is someone watching right now?”
jungkook gently lifted you off his lap, stood, and set the phone down.
“jungkook—wait, where are you going?”
he didn’t answer.
he crossed the room in three long strides, closed the blinds, and checked the front door’s lock—twice.
then he moved to the bedroom, returned with something you couldn’t see in his hand, and walked quietly to the kitchen window.
you stood there, frozen, arms hugging yourself tightly.
when he finally came back, he didn’t speak right away. he walked straight to you and wrapped you in his arms.
“c’mere.”
his heart was racing. really racing now.
you pressed your face deep into his chest. “who would—why would someone—?”
“shh,” he whispered into your hair. “dont cry, angel. i’ve got you. no one’s going to hurt you.”
“but they saw me,” you whispered. “they said you don’t deserve me. they’ve been watching.”
“they’re wrong.” his voice was sharp now.
“i’m the only one who gets to see you like this. touch you like this. they know it. that’s why they’re hiding.”
“what if they come here?”
“they won’t.” a pause. then he murmured so quietly, you almost didn’t hear it: “they wouldn’t dare.”
you looked up at him, eyes wet. “how can you be so sure?”
jungkook held your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away your tears. he kissed your forehead, your cheek, the corner of your mouth. gentle. reassuring.
“you just sit pretty angel. you don’t need to worry, they’ll disappear. i’ll make sure of it,” he said, smiling softly.
you blinked.
then he kissed you again, deeper this time, and you didn’t ask what he meant.
you didn’t want to.
you just held onto him tighter.
that night you weren’t able to sleep. you felt like the world was waiting, waiting to attack you.
you felt like a target all of a sudden, and you hated it. hated the fact that someone was watching you, and probably is right now.
it was almost 8 in the morning now, you’re sat and curled slightly at the edge of the bed, staring out the window as if looking for an answer.
“baby? i didn’t know you were awake.” you hear a groggy voice behind you, his fingertips slightly brushing your upper thigh.
“i couldn’t sleep,” you said softly.
jungkook turned fully immediately. “why didn’t you wake me?”
“you needed rest too.”
he crossed the space and knelt in front of you. his hands found yours, gently tugging the sleeves down.
“angel,” he murmured, eyes searching your face.
“you don’t need to be brave right now.”
you looked down. “i keep thinking someone’s out there. watching. i keep checking the windows and listening for things. i—i know it sounds crazy.”
“it doesn’t.”
“you believe me?”
“i always believe you.”
he kissed your knuckles, holding them to his lips for a long moment.
you closed your eyes, breathing slightly.
but you failed to nice a shift in his posture his shoulders were tighter, his eyes were sharper, more alert.
“i have to go out for a few hours,” he said, too casually.
your eyes shot open. “what? no.”
“i just need to take care of a few things, baby. i’ll be back before you even notice i’m gone.”
your fingers curled around his tighter. “no. please, don’t. not now.”
he hesitated.
you reached up and grabbed the front of his shirt, holding on like he might disappear if you let go.
“jungkook, please don’t leave me alone. i can’t—what if they come back? what if they’re watching again?”
he cupped your cheek, slightly shaky. he’s never seen you like this before. so scared, so vulnerable.
oh he fucking hated it. his pupils moved rapidly as his eyes burned into yours, speaking back.
“they won’t get to you. i promise.”
“that’s not enough,” you whispered. “you’re the only reason i feel safe. please, koo.”
his jaw tightened slightly as he exhaled. “okay, angel. i’ll stay.”
relief bloomed in your chest, and you practically melted into his arms. he caught you easily, pulling you into his lap as you pressed your face into his neck. his hands roamed your back in slow, calming circles.
“you don’t have to be scared anymore, hm?” he murmured. “i’m here.”
you nodded against him, body sinking deeper into the comfort only he could offer.
the hours passed in a haze. you tried to eat, tried to watch something with him, but your mind wandered constantly. the blinds stayed shut.
the door remained a constant target your eyes darted to every few minutes. every little sound outside made you jump.
eventually, jungkook coaxed you into the bedroom.
“you need rest,” he said softly, brushing your hair from your face as you lay beneath the sheets.
“just a little. i’ll be right here, okay?”
“you promise?”
“i promise,” he whispered, kissing your forehead. “sleep, angel.”
you fell asleep with your hand wrapped around his wrist.
he waited until he was sure you were asleep. then, slowly, carefully, he slid his hand free.
in the dark, he moved like a ghost.
first. the front door. he installed a deadbolt he’d brought from his apartment. the one where only yours or his fingerprint could open. no one would open it from the outside.
then, the windows. he reinforced the latches, taped the blinds shut with black tape, he made sure not a single ray of light would pass through, at least not after dawn.
he moved like this for nearly an hour, careful not to make a sound.
you hadn’t moved, you were soundly asleep.
you looked so small in his bed. so trusting.
he crouched beside you, watching you sleep the way he always did, like you were his favorite sin.
his most prized possession.
he pressed one last kiss to your temple.
then slipped out the door without a sound.
he had to do something, his blood was boiling, his eyes turned a blood-like red the moment he stepped out from the apartment.
he made his way to his warehouse, the place all of his deeds take place in.
it smelt awful, the smell of dried up blood and decay flooded throughout the building.
there was a table present with multiple screens. grainy footage various areas in the city. some showed sidewalks, others showed you.
the same ones jungkook had already seen. the ones that had made his jaw lock and his vision go red.
one of his partners, jimin leaned against the table, arms crossed.
his other partner, taehyung was seated nearby, tapping a pocket knife against his thigh in a slow, rhythmic pattern.
they looked up the moment jungkook entered.
jimin handed him a tablet. “alright kook, thats your guy. name’s ryu. mid-thirties. some typa tech geek. obsessive online presence. he started tracking her a few months ago through her socials.”
“he worked at a security firm,” taehyung added, “had access to cctv networks near your neighbourhood and wired her apartment building, probably planted something physical too.”
jungkook stared at the image on the screen, eyes dark.
“where is he now?” jungkook asked, voice dead calm.
“somewhere south,” jimin said. “we tracked him to an abandoned unit near the old lake.“
jungkook handed back the tablet and rolled up his sleeves. his hands were steady.
taehyung watched him with a knowing grin. “so. you want him alive, or...?”
“alive for now.”
“copy that.”
twenty minutes later.
the door crashed open loudly.
ryu couldn’t scream before he was pulled from his chair, the desk and monitors falling. jungkook didn’t speak, just dragged him by the collar into the concrete room, with jimin and taehyung on either side like wolves.
they tied him to a chair. fastened the rope tight.
blood from a split lip already trickled down ryu’s chin. his breath stuttered when jungkook knelt in front of him.
“the girl you’re stalking. do you know who she is to me?”
ryu didn’t answer.
jungkook backhanded him hard enough to send spit flying.
“answer the fucking question.”
“i—i didn’t touch her, i swear—”
“that’s not what i asked.”
“i just watched. i was just watching. i didn’t mean anything by it, i was just—just curious—“
jungkook smiled.
“let me tell you what i see,” he whispered, leaning closer. “you watched her like she was prey. you messaged her, tried to scare her. you thought she was alone. you thought she was yours to study. like she wasn’t mine.”
“please—”
“but she’s not alone,” jungkook continued, tone so gentle it sent chills down jimin’s spine. “she has me. and i will tear the world apart before i let someone like you breathe in her direction again.”
ryu began to cry.
but it didn’t matter.
not when the love of his life was sat at home terrified, and unable to sleep.
jungkook stood. “break his fucking fingers.”
the scream echoed loud and long across the empty corridors of the building.
two hours later.
ryu was no longer crying. he wasn’t speaking at all. just slumped in the chair, breathing shallowly, broken in a dozen places.
jungkook stood in the center of the room, hands bloodstained, eyes unreadable.
“he’s not going to walk out of here, is he?” jimin asked quietly.
jungkook shook his head once. “no.”
“want us to finish it?”
“no,” jungkook said. he walked to the far wall, picked up a small flash drive from the desk, and pocketed it. “make it look like an overdose or some shit. just put him back where you found him, and scatter pills around his desk.”
taehyung cracked his neck. “i’ll handle it.”
jungkook turned to the door but paused. “i don’t want this traced. not a whisper. not a rumor. if anyone else so much as thinks about her—”
“they won’t,” jimin said firmly. “we’ll make sure of it.”
“she can’t know,” he said finally.
“she won’t,” jimin promised.
jungkook left without another word.
back at home, the rain was still falling outside
the first thing you noticed when you woke up was the cold.
not just the sheets, but the air. the emptiness.
you sat bolt upright in bed, your heart was racing.
the other side of the bed was empty. you scanned the room, eyes wide, breath catching in your throat.
“jungkook?”
nothing.
you threw the blankets back and stumbled out of bed, toes hitting the cold floor. your fingers trembled as you pulled open the bedroom door and stepped into the living room.
it was silent.
your eyes immediately scanned the revamped apartment.
the curtains were taped shut.
a new lock shining on the door.
your stomach flipped.
“j-jungkook,” you called again, louder this time. your voice cracked.
still no answer.
you checked the kitchen. the bathroom. the hallway.
nothing.
panicking now. you picked up your phone, hands shaking, and dialed his number.
voicemail.
again. straight to voicemail.
your knees hit the couch and you clutched the pillow. your thoughts spiraled fast and brutal.
what if he left? what if he lied? what if he’s not who you think he is?
tears pricked your eyes. your body was tight with anxiety, breath shallow, heart galloping.
he’d promised.
‘you’re not alone.’
‘i’ll be right here.’
‘sleep, angel.’
you curled into yourself, breath hitching, waiting, hoping—
until— the lock turned.
your head shot up.
the door opened with a slow, soft creak. and there he was.
jungkook stepped inside, hoodie damp slightly. his hair a mess.
“baby?” he blinked, clearly surprised. “you’re up.”
you were already off the couch and running into his arms.
“what the— where the fuck were you?!” you cried, voice shaking as you collided with him.
“you said you wouldn’t leave—i woke up and you were just—gone!”
jungkook staggered slightly at the force of you, but his arms wrapped around you immediately, protectively, pulling you tight against his chest.
“hey, hey, angel, shhh—” he murmured, one hand stroking your hair, the other clutching your back. “i’m here. i’m right here. i’m sorry.”
you gripped his hoodie like it was all that tethered you to the ground.
“i thought—i thought something happened. or—or that you—” you couldn’t even say it. your voice cracked against him.
jungkook held you tighter, rocking you slightly. “i just stepped out to grab breakfast. you were sleeping so peacefully, i didn’t want to wake you. i didn’t think you’d panic like that—i’m sorry, baby.”
you buried your face in his chest. your tears slowed. your breathing evened. but your mind didn’t.
you pulled back slightly and looked up at him, eyes still glassy but sharp now. searching.
“you taped the blinds.”
his hand stilled on your back.
“i noticed them gapping last night,” he said calmly, “didn’t want you waking up anxious again. figured this would help.”
“and the lock?”
“just extra precaution. just something to help you sleep better.” he smiled softly. “i want you to feel safe, that’s all.”
your eyebrows furrowed. “but… you didn’t mention it before.”
“i didn’t want to worry you,” he said gently, brushing a tear from your cheek. “i had the tools with me. it took like five minutes.”
it all made sense. his voice was soft. steady. he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered.
so why did your skin still have goosebumps?
you didn’t pull away from him. you clung tighter.
because despite the doubt, you needed him.
needed him so badly it made your bones ache.
“i was really scared,” you whispered.
“i know, baby,”he replied, lips brushing your temple.
“and i’ll never let you feel that way again. ever.”
you nodded slowly. letting yourself believe him.
since then nothing had quite clicked back into place. day by day passed. and by each day, the atmosphere turned more intense. you had already developed a suspicion, but the acts done by the day only made them grow more.
one day, you wake in the middle of the night.
the apartment is dark and silent, but as you walk to the kitchen, you notice the guest room door, usually closed, is cracked open.
you push it gently. curiosity getting the best of you.
inside was a computer setup you’ve never seen before. monitors. files. surveillance footage.
and photos of… you.
hundreds. candid. some from years ago. some from last week. some from… before you even met him.
“baby?” you suddenly hear jungkook’s voice calls from behind you. sleepy. innocent.
you turn, heart jackhammering in your chest.
“i thought i heard something,” you lie.
he tilts his head. then smiles softly. “come back to bed.”
you do.
but you don’t sleep.
the day went on fine, you think.
the sun was finally setting, but you hadn’t noticed.
you’d been sitting in the living room for hours, curled into a blanket with your legs tucked to your chest, a cup of untouched tea in your hands.
your eyes kept drifting toward the guest room door. closed again. locked.
you knew what you saw.
you weren’t crazy. right?
those photos. your face. over and over again.
your fingers tightened around the mug.
the door creaked open behind you.
“hey, angel,” jungkook’s voice was soft, “you’ve been quiet all day.”
you swallowed.
he walked into the room and sat beside you on the couch.
“you okay?” he asked, brushing hair behind your ear. “still shaken from the other night?”
you turned to face him slowly.
you set the mug down on the coffee table with trembling hands. “i just— want to ask you something.”
jungkook’s eyes didn’t blink. “okay.”
“i’m not… accusing you. i’m not upset. i just…”
your voice dropped. “i need you to tell me the truth. please.”
he stared at you for a little too long. then smiled gently. “the truth about what, baby?”
you hesitated. your throat felt tight. “about… everything. the locks. the cameras. the guest room. my phone not working. jungkook—why are you watching me?”
his smile faded, just slightly.
your heart beat faster.
“if something’s wrong… if there’s something you’re protecting me from… i deserve to know. i’m not mad. i just—” you inhaled shakily. “i love you. and i’m scared. i want you to talk to me.”
he didn’t answer right away.
instead, he reached for your hand, lifting it slowly and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.
“you’re scared?” he murmured, “of me?”
your breath caught. “i’m scared because i don’t understand. and i want to.”
he turned your hand in his, “you said you love me,” he said.
you nodded slowly. “i do.”
“then trust me.”
you tried to keep your voice steady. “i’m trying. that’s why i’m asking.”
jungkook finally looked up. his eyes were deep and unreadable. “you don’t need to worry about what’s in the guest room. or the cameras. or anything else.”
“why not?”
“because i’ve taken care of it.”
you froze. “taken care of what?”
“the man who was texting you. the one who thought he could follow you home. he won’t be a problem anymore.”
your lips parted. “jungkook…”
“i told you,” he said, quiet and firm, “i would never let anyone hurt you.”
you were trembling now. but not pulling away.
“and the cameras?” you asked. “the locks? the phone?”
his thumb stroked your palm. “i need to protect you.”
“but you didn’t tell me.”
“because you’d be scared. like you are now.”
there was no apology in his voice. just calm certainty.
“you don’t need to know everything, y/n,” he said gently. “you just need to be safe. and with me? you always will be.”
silence.
you stared at him, heart breaking open in your chest.
because somewhere deep down… you believed him.
and that terrified you more than anything else.
you just made your way into the bedroom, to think.
you needed to clear your head, needed space. so you sat curled on the bedroom floor, your back against the bedframe, knees hugged tight to your chest.
your thoughts looped endlessly, he did it for you. he lied to protect you. he’d kill for you. he already has.
you didn’t know how long you sat there. maybe an hour. maybe three.
the house was silent. but you felt him on the other side of the door.
waiting.
when it finally opened, you didn’t flinch.
jungkook stood there, barefoot and shirtless.
“y/n…baby…” his voice cracked.
you looked up at him, eyes rimmed red but dry.
“i can’t do this anymore,” he said, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “the silence. the waiting. i’ll tell you everything— i need to tell you everything.”
you didn’t speak.
so he sank to his knees in front of you.
his hands found yours, gently, like you might vanish if he moved too fast.
“i love you.” his voice trembled.
“i know that sounds twisted coming from me right now, but i swear— i have never loved anyone like i love you.”
you kept staring. listening.
“when we met, i thought i was just lucky. that somehow, i’d stumbled into something pure. but the more i got to know you, the more i realized—i couldn’t lose you. i couldn’t let the world touch you. not in the way it touched me.”
“i watched you. i memorized you. and yeah— maybe that was wrong. i know it was wrong. but it didn’t feel that way. it felt like devotion.”
you blinked slowly.
“i never meant to scare you,” he whispered. “but i’d burn the world to the ground if it meant you’d never have to be afraid again.”
silence bloomed between the both of you.
he looked at you like he was preparing to be shattered. like he knew you were going to leave him.
but instead, you leaned forward, and pressed your mouth to his.
it wasn’t rushed. or messy. it was soft, understanding.
when you finally pulled away, your voice was barely a whisper. “i understand.”
his eyes widened.
“i don’t agree with everything,” you continued, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “and i need time to figure out what this means for us. but right now... all i feel is how much i love you.”
jungkook let out a breath like he’d been
drowning.
“you’re mine,” he whispered.
“i’ve always been yours.”
that broke something in him.
and then he kissed you like he’d been starved for centuries.
your bodies tangled fast, his hands roaming your waist, lifting you into his lap as he pressed your back against the edge of the bed.
your breath hitched, soft moans escaping between kisses, as your fingers tugged on his soft hair.
“you’re so perfect,” he whispered against your throat. “so fucking perfect.”
“then show me,” you whispered back.
“i’ll— i’ll give you the world baby.” he stuttered.
but you knew he meant it, literally.
hjs hands left your waist, moving to unbutton your shirt slowly. his knuckles brushed against your skin with each movement, leaving your skin feeling like fire.
as he reached the last button, he spread the shirt open, revealing your bare chest. he leaned down, pressing open mouthed kisses to your collarbone, tracing the bone with his tongue.
his lips traveled lower, dragging across your
sternum, taking his time like he wanted to memorize every curve. when his mouth found your nipple, you gasped sharply, your back arching off the bed.
"so sensitive," he murmured against your skin, swirling his tongue before taking you into his mouth.
your hips jerked involuntarily, fingers tightening in his hair.
he smiled around your nipple, the vibration sending another shockwave through you.
one hand moved to palm your other breast, squeezing and playing with the sensitive flesh while his mouth continued its delicious torture.
his other hand trailed down your stomach, popping open the button of your shorts with ease.
he kissed lower, hot and wet against your quivering stomach, tugging your shorts and panties down in one fluid motion.
the cool air hit your cunt, but it was instantly replaced by his warm mouth, just his tongue dragging through your folds like he was starved.
you cried out, hips bucking up into his face.
your hands gripped the sheets, knees falling open wider as he ate at your pussy skillfully.
his fingers dug into your thighs, keeping you open for him as he sucked your clit into his mouth, flicking it rapidly with his tongue.
"fuck, baby," he mumbled against your clit, the vibrations sending electric shocks straight to your core.
"you taste so fucking sweet—mm. i could eat you all day long." his tongue delved deeper inside you, fucking you slowly with it.
“this— pussy’s all— f’ me, right?”
your whimpers grew louder, more desperate as he tongue fucked you leisurely, one hand reaching up to cover your breast and squeeze possessively.
he'd occasionally pull back, circling your clit with his tongue before sucking it hard into his mouth and drawing it between his lips.
"look at you," he groaned, releasing your clit with a soft pop. "so wet and messy for me. your pussy is leaking all over my face."
he pressed a kiss to your swollen lips, pushing his tongue inside to fuck you again. "god, i love it."
"please—i can't—" your voice broke, head thrashing against the mattress.
"can't what, baby?" he grinned up at you, breath hot between your thighs.
"can't take it? because i think you can." he hooked your legs over his shoulders, pushing his face deeper between your folds. "my girl."
he continued sucking, licking, and fingering you mercilessly. his free hand reached up to pinch and pull at your nipple, the dual sensations overwhelming you.
your legs trembled violently around his head as he curled his fingers inside you, hitting that spot that made you see stars.
"that's it... right there..." he murmured against your pussy, fingers curling deeper and faster, tongue lashing your clit in relentless circles.
his other hand moved to your throat, applying gentle pressure as he watched you fall apart beneath him. "cum for me, baby."
your cry was loud and broken as you came, your pussy tightening around his fingers, your hips bucking wildly against his face.
he didn't stop, didn't slow down. he kept sucking and finger fucking you through your orgasm, prolonging it until you were trembling and soaked.
only then did he pull back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. he looked up at you with a smug grin, your juices glistening on his face.
"look at you," he said softly, pushing his fingers inside you again. "so sensitive f’ me. all— for me.”
you whimpered at his touch, your body hypersensitive from the intense orgasm.
he chuckled darkly, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you. "shh," he soothed, leaning up to kiss you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.
he broke the kiss suddenly, standing up to quickly strip off his own clothes.
you watched through heavy eyes, his thick, throbbing cock standing between his legs. he crawled back onto the bed between your thighs.
"you want this cock baby?" he murmured, guiding his tip to your entrance, rubbing it teasingly against your swollen, wet folds. "you want me to bury myself inside you?"
your only response was a desperate nod, your hands reaching for him.
"good girl." he pushed in slowly, giving you time to adjust to his size.
"fuck, you feel— ahh— amazing," he groaned once he was fully inside you. he didn't move immediately, just stayed still, letting you feel every inch of him stretching you perfectly. your pussy pulsed around him, still sensitive from the orgasm.
"look at me," he commanded, hands gripping your hips possessively. when your eyes met his, he started to move, slow, deep thrusts that hit every perfect spot inside you. "you're so tight. so fucking tight around me."
he leaned down, mouths barely touching. "i'm never letting you go."
"never," you agreed breathlessly, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him deeper.
his pace picked up, hips snapping against yours with increasing urgency.
the sound of skin hitting skin filled the room, mingling with your desperate moans. his forehead pressed against yours, both of you gasping for air as he fucked into you relentlessly.
"mine. mine. mine,"
"y-yes—" your voice cracked, tears pricking your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure. your walls clenched around him, threatening to push you over the edge again. "i'm yours. only yours."
he captured your lips in a bruising kiss, swallowing your moans as he changed the angle, hitting that spot deep inside that made you see stars.
“mm— please! right— there!”
"right here?" he panted against your mouth, knowing exactly what that angle did to you.
"you like it when i hit it here?."
he adjusted again, pulling your legs over his shoulders and tilting your hips upward. he sank even deeper, the new angle making you gasp and claw at his back. "this is where you fucking—mm— belong," he grunted, fucking you steadily now.
“under me. on me. in me. connected. forever." each word punctuated by a deep thrust that made your eyes roll back.
“koo! i’m— i’m gonna cum!”
“milk my cock baby, please. show me you’re mine. need you to show me. please.” he begged, voice cracking suddenly.
and when you both finally finish together, you feel the world stop for a second. you feel his warm cum fill you up, as his cock twitches inside of of you.
he collapses onto you before he pulls you close, tight. afraid that you’ll slip away in the middle of the night.
his cock stays buried inside of of you the whole night, refusing to let his product leak out of you.
he was utterly devoted to you, and maybe after tonight… you were utterly devoted to him too.
the next morning felt different, the storm had softened overnight, and the sky seemed a lighter shade of grey.
you stirred awake first.
you blinked up at the ceiling, breath still slow, body warm under the weight of the duvet, and him.
jungkook’s arm was wrapped around your waist, his hand resting protectively against your stomach. his legs were tangled with yours, face pressed to the crook of your neck. his breath was warm and even. still asleep.
you didn’t move.
you didn’t want to.
instead, you turned just enough to look at him.
he looked... different in the morning.
softer. his lips parted just slightly. skin still flushed from last night.
and god, he was beautiful.
your fingers moved before you could stop them, reaching to trace the edge of his jaw.
you felt the faint scrape of stubble. the delicate shape of his cheekbone. the tattooed vines that wrapped around his arm.
fuck.
memories of last night flash in front of you.
you bit your lip.
your heart ached, but not from pain. from possession.
“mine.”
you kissed his forehead gently, nose brushing his temple.
“you’re not going anywhere,” you whispered. “i won’t let you.”
you see a soft smile curve on his lips suddenly.
his voice, still rough from sleep, “ wasn’t plan on going anywhere, baby.”
you jumped a little. “you’re awake?”
“wasn’t,” he said, blinking open one eye. “but your voice... kinda made it hard to stay asleep.”
you flushed. “i didn’t mean to wake you.”
he stretched, groaning softly, before dragging you closer.
“best way to wake up,” he murmured. “with you right here. watching me like i’m your favorite thing in the world.”
“you are.”
he paused at that, just for a second.
something flickered behind his eyes. not shock. not fear.
“careful, you’re dangerous when you say things like that,” he murmured, lips brushing your ear.
you smiled. “‘mm, you like it.”
“i do.”
your foreheads pressed together.
you weren’t just falling for him.
you were beginning to mirror him.
and that?
that was more dangerous than anything.
later, jungkook sat on the edge of the bed, hunched forward, palms resting on his knees. he hadn’t looked at you in ten minutes.
you stood across the room, barefoot in one of his shirts, watching him silently.
“angel. i need to tell you something,” he said finally, voice rough.
you didn’t speak. just nodded once.
his eyes didn’t meet yours.
“i didn’t fall in love with you when we met.” a breath. “i already loved you. before that. long before.”
your breath caught, not from surprise. from the weight of it.
“i saw you on the train,” he said. “you were smiling at someone. just a stranger. and it ruined me.”
“i followed you. watched you. found where you worked, where you lived. i memorized the way you walked, the way you laughed, the way you tucked your hair behind your ear when you were focused.”
your heart beat rapidly in your chest. still, you didn’t move.
“i thought it would fade,” he whispered. “but it didn’t. it only got worse. i started getting rid of anything that could hurt you. anyone.”
you swallowed. “who?”
jungkook hesitated.
“mark.”
your eyes widened. “from my job?”
he nodded. “i saw the way he looked at you. touched your arm when you passed. you didn’t see it, but i did. every time.”
a long pause.
“i waited outside his building. he never made it home.”
your eyes widened. your hands curled into the hem of his shirt. your voice barely rose above a whisper.
“you killed him… for me?”
jungkook stood then. slowly. like a man coming undone.
“i would do it again,” he said. “i would burn down cities for you. cut through the world just to make sure you’re safe. i know it’s sick. i know it’s twisted. but i can’t help it. i love you in a way that doesn’t have brakes.”
he stepped closer.
“i love you in a way that ruins things.”
there was silence before you spoke.
“then ruin me.”
jungkook froze.
your eyes burned into his.
“i don’t care what you’ve done,” you whispered.
“i don’t care how it started. i just care that you’re mine.”
you walked to him, slowly, deliberately.
until your chests touched. your hands slid to his jaw. your voice was breathless, desperate.
“i want you. all of you. i want to be tangled in your mess. your violence. your obsession. i want you to lose your mind over me… because— because i’m already losing mine over you.”
he looked at you like you were crazy, and then groaned softly, then kissed you.
not gently.
not slowly.
he kissed you like a man at the edge of a cliff, like he’d die if he didn’t take you with him.
"youre driving me fucking crazy." he groaned into your mouth.
you clung to him, moaning into his mouth, fingers tugging his shirt over his head.
his hands were already at your thighs, lifting you, gripping like he needed bruises as proof that you were real.
you wrapped your legs around him, and he carried you to the bed like you weighed nothing.
his body against yours, his mouth trailing over your neck, your chest, your stomach, worshipping like you were goddess.
you were, his goddess.
you cried out his name, desperate, broken.
“that’s it, baby. let me have all of it.”
“you’re mine. every part. say it.”
“i’m yours,” you gasped. “no one else. only you.”
when he pushed his cock inside you, you felt everything, the way his hands trembled, the way his breath stuttered against your skin.
you moved together, slow at first, then faster, harder, more desperate.
"no one else gets to have you like this, no one gets to look, touch, breathe or fuck you like i do"
"f-uck, koo please."
it wasn’t just sex.
it was claiming.
it was obsession.
“f-fuck— you ruin me,” he groaned into your mouth.
“then let me,” you moaned back, kissing him until your lungs burned.
"let go, cum for me." he groans.
you came together in a mess, lips still touching, hands still holding — like even when it was done, you couldn’t let go. you didn’t want to.
when it was over, he held you close, as if you’d slip away.
he then spoke, softly.
“baby.. do you regret this?”
you smiled. you didn’t even open your eyes.
“no,” you breathed. “i don’t think i’ve ever felt more like myself.”
“i used to be afraid of turning into someone unrecognizable.”
he looked down at you.
“and now?”
you turned your face toward the mirror on the wall beside the bed.
the girl you used to be was gone.
but in her place was a woman full of obsession and devotion. and in his arms, you had never felt more alive.
you stared at your reflection.
“i recognize her now,” you whispered.
“and she loves you more than her own soul.”
jungkook kissed you again. this time, not with urgency. but with certainty.
“i’m scared of how much i love you,” he whispered.
you pulled his face up, eyes pouring into his.
“then don’t fight it,” you whispered. “let it consume us.”
he smiled, wrecked.
and you smiled back.
because there was no going back now.
you were each other’s poison, and neither of you was searching for nor wanted the cure.
a/n : yayyyy! happy Valentine’s Day buns! this fic took a whole month to write & edit and everything and it’s mostly because there was SO much shit that had to be redone… like please one year ago I was lowk all over the place with my writing… you guys do NOT want to see the original draft of this from a year ago.. 😭 I’m so happy it’s out so now I can finally get some rest before finishing up on chap 2 of positions! and also it’s 3a.m rn so I’m just going to publish this and then go to SLEEP because I have work tomorrow..! ignore any mistakes because my eyes are heavy so my proofreading may not be perfect atm BUTT ofc lmk what you guys thought! also it has been long since I’ve written a sort of serious..? fic so do be kind! but pleaseee I do wanna hear everything hehe! <3 🤍
Description: Jungkook always had a pull to you. An unexplainable connection that brings him to your side daily, like a permanent routine. Is it a hobby? An obsession? Or was the centuries old prince just bored? No… boredom doesn’t make his heart race. It’s not supposed to make him lose his own self control, or fill him with blinding rage, and it certainly isn’t supposed to have him hallucinating the strangest things until it drives him back home for answers. Maybe he just cares too much for you and he thought that it’d be better to wait than to give in, but the longer the prince of darkness spends his time away, the more he realizes he has absolutely no Idea what emotions have been festering since the very beginning. What if he could just turn them off?
Warnings: Within each part.
Song Inspo: Pretty- The Weeknd, Waves- Normani, Softcore- The Neighbourhood, Middle Of The Night- Elley Duhe
synopsis: friday night football games, all day marching band competitions on saturday, and sunday schoolwork catch up — the schedule you’ve religiously maintained throughout high school and now college. that is, until you found respite in jungkook’s company.
☼ pairing: tenor drummer!jungkook x colorguard captain!fem reader
☼ cw: jk as loser stuck in a hot body, uptight oc (not too much on my girl ok? i love her) past misunderstandings, miscommunication (i know i hate it too), negative family dynamics, yearning, pining, jealousy, lots of nickname usage, marching band terminology, physical injuries, 18+ ONLY - MINORS DNI 🔞, mature language, sexual tension, dirty talk, switch jk & oc, masturbation (m), oral (f receiving), handjob, fingering, brief nipple play, spitting, praising, cum eating, semi-overstimulation, oc gets teary from the good o, riding, missionary, multiple orgasms, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie.
☼ a/n: little miss liar here 😌 got ahead of my editing schedule, so might as well release early. anyway! happy bts month!! we are so back, bangtan babes 💜 here’s a very niche fic inspired by real life events. it’s been over 10 years since i’ve marched so pls be easy on me.
banner by the lovely @lovieku *・☆ i also wanna dedicate this fic to her bc she rly gets me so excited to write! nicest person ever like you don’t even know 🥹💖 (pls come back n also open commissions)
”FIVE, SIX—FIVE, SIX, SEVEN, EIGHT!”
No matter the number sequence, your body always knew when to move.
Having done colorguard since you were 15 years old, you took pride in being section leader for the third year in a row at your university. The band director typically picked their section leaders based on seniority, but skill sets may outrank that on very rare occasions. Everyone was shocked when Director Lee selected you, a first-year at the time, over another fourth-year colorguard member. You would be too had you been in their position.
Except, you weren’t.
You put in the extra hours when no one else did and arrived on time to every practice. To you, that was the bare minimum.
Being a good leader, now, that was the hard part.
You took what you’ve experienced from your past captains: stern in how they led practices, soft in how they uplifted the team during difficult times. Director Lee immediately recognized those qualities in you. Older members rebelled against the decision, but eventually followed suit or left the university marching band due to graduating.
Colorguard was a sport — you’d argue that it rivaled football. Because who could toss a flag, run 20 yards on the field, and catch between your legs? Yeah. An athlete. Above that, colorguard was a form of visual arts — the storytellers of the marching band. You had a love-hate relationship with colorguard, but the final results were always worth it … be it through winning competitions or feeling a sense of accomplishment. It’s the start of the field season and you’re currently at the ‘hate’ part.
“Shit!”
The music and band members come to a halt after Hoseok signals the band to stop. Everyone’s visibly upset, sunburnt, and probably dehydrated. This was the sixth time in the last hour of practice the band was forced to stop and reset for a mistake, which meant another five push-ups got added onto the post-practice punishment.
You squint your eyes down the field and realize the commotion involved one of your colorguard members and someone from the drumline.
Fuck.
“JUICEBOX!” Director Lee yells from his megaphone in the stands. “Fix it before I do!”
You’d assume he was yelling for a beverage, but no. It was common to have nicknames in marching band. One could acquire a nickname for the following reasons: long name, director hated you, director loved you, or memorable moment. Unfortunately, you got yours when Director Lee witnessed you chugging down five apple juiceboxes after your first tryout. Memorable moment … at least he didn’t hate you, so you think.
You spot Yuri, your colorguard member, arguing with Jaehyun, a tenor drummer.
“Dude, you fucking hit me with your flag and you want to complain that I was in your spot?” Jaehyun seethes.
“Well, like I said, it wouldn’t have hit you if you weren’t in my spot!” Yuri huffs and drops her flag in frustration.
“Yuri, what’s wrong?” You jog over.
“Mr. Irrational over here is pissed off because he walked into my toss. But look, my drill told me I’m on the 40. Not my fault I need to cut through them to get to my spot.”
Sometimes the drills didn’t mesh well with the choreography. It wasn’t the end of the world, just annoying to fix. From behind, you hear instruments shuffle — specifically another set of tenor drums.
“Juice.”
You sigh. Not from the nickname, but from the person saying it.
“Set #10 shows Yuri with the baritones on the left. She’s not at the wrong spot, but she shouldn’t be cutting through the tenors, instead going around us. There’s 16 counts in this set, so she’ll have plenty of travel time.”
Jeon Jungkook, third-year, lead tenor drum player. You haven’t gotten the chance to know him … how could you when there’s over 200 members, 18 of which belonged in your section. Based on what you’ve heard and witnessed, he’s an average drummer. Nothing noteworthy. And because of that, you don’t understand why everyone fawned over him. Sure, he’s tall and conventionally good looking. Had a nice head of hair and a distinct laugh that’d grab anyone’s attention. Maybe that’s why? Jungkook was like any other boy in college … the only difference was that he knew how to play the tenor drums.
To be clear, no, Jungkook wasn’t a section leader. That was Yoongi’s role as center snare. Which makes you wonder why he’s trying to resolve this with you when you should be hashing it out with Yoongi. Ignoring him, you walk over to Yoongi to confirm the coordinates.
“Yeah, Kook is right.” He nods after reviewing the drills. From the side, you see Jungkook beam from the acknowledgment.
“Ha! See, you were wrong,” the other tenor player says to Yuri as he sets his drums down.
“Jaehyun.” Jungkook’s stern voice catches you off guard.
“What? It’s true!”
“You were two counts early to the spot. Wouldn’t have gotten hit if you were on time.”
Jaehyun scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”
Noobie ego. If you didn’t nip it early on, it was going to cause issues in the future. You had a few of those in your years of being a captain; consequently, you left some unchecked and those became the biggest lessons for you.
You look at Yoongi with your brows raised, silently asking him, ‘You gonna take care of that?’
He merely stares back with a look that said, ‘Too tired … it’s my last season. Give me a break.’
Yoongi wasn’t lazy. He’s one of the many section leaders you respected and enjoyed working with. He remained factual and cleaned up things before they became a problem. Most importantly, Yoongi was fair and reliable. You’ve got a lot to learn from him before he graduates this semester.
“Alright,” Jungkook stuffs his sticks back into the side pockets. “Tenors, give me ten.”
The other two tenors groan and take off their drums and harness. Jaehyun, along with the tenors, drop to the ground and begin their push-ups. What surprised you was Jungkook also going down to do the push-ups too. You've always been a firm believer of the saying ‘when a ship sinks, the captain will go down with it.’
They’re back up within seconds. Jungkook looked like he barely broke a sweat outside the sweat lines on his shirt caused by his harness.
“All good?” Hoseok, the drum major, calls out from his stand. You and Yoongi throw a thumbs up.
“Reset! Take it from the top.” Hoseok calls out to the other band members.
Director Lee waits till everyone gets back into position before turning on his megaphone. “You all wasted seven minutes of practice, so add another five push-ups.”
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
Practice ended two hours later with 75 push-ups. Not bad, but also not good. At least it didn’t hit the triple digits. Jungkook always saw push-ups as a way to condition his body.
Long hours of practice with his section, ensemble, and individually filled up his day. A wonder how he manages to juggle marching band and school at the same time, but he gets it done. Jungkook knows he isn’t the best, but he’s a hard worker. He loves a good challenge and what better way to challenge himself by playing tenor? Sure, he could’ve stuck with a single bass drum, but tenors had four drums. How cool was that?
You certainly didn’t think so.
Never once batted a single eyelash in his direction in the last three years he’s marched with you. Jungkook exhales deeply after finishing his Gatorade. “She hates me.”
“Who?” Jimin asks while rolling up his flag silks.
“Your captain.” Jungkook pouts.
“Juicebox? Nah.”
“Then why does she always look like she smells something bad when she’s around me?”
“Rude, what if that’s just her face?” It wasn’t. In all his years of spinning with this school, Jimin has a good idea of who you are. You’re strict, but a sweet person underneath that tough exterior.
“She’s just …” Jimin follows Jungkook’s line of vision where you’re laughing with the woodwinds section lead, Kim Namjoon. “Anyway, maybe it’s because you do smell.”
Jungkook scoffs. He knows for a fact he doesn’t smell. Everyone gets a little musty after practice, but Jungkook prides himself on good hygiene. Literally the bare minimum to shower after every practice and reapply deodorant throughout the day. Unfortunately, not the case for certain band kids.
“Just kidding. You know the smelliest title goes to Ryo,” Jimin teases, “need to start gifting him some body wash this Christmas.”
“Don’t bother,” Yoongi chimes in. “This is his last field season. Let the man live a little. Saves you a couple bucks too.” He finishes locking up the instruments and bends down to tie his laces.
“Cap,” Jungkook deadpans, “don’t you think she hates me?”
Yoongi stands up and squints at Jungkook, “I think you need to worry about cleaning up your solo in the opener. JB is the least of your concerns.”
“But—”
Yoongi sticks up a finger to Jungkook’s face. “More drumming, less JB fixation. Gotta bounce to a section leader meeting. Catch y’all later.” With that, Yoongi joins the small group of people at the front of the band room, you included. You look back to where Jungkook and Jimin stood. Jimin waves at you and you wave back. Jungkook does the same and receives a tight-lipped smile.
“Yeah, she hates you.”
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
“So as you all know, this year’s show is a spy theme, specifically Mr. & Mrs. Smith.”
Hoseok stands at the front of the lecture hall, the projector displaying the mood board Director Lee had him make. He wasn’t at the meeting, but he trusted Hoseok enough to get his message across. It’s not that he didn’t want to be here, but he preferred a more hands off approach — thinks it’s building your communication and teamwork skills. Though, Namjoon theorizes that budget cuts to the performing arts department was the driving factor and Lee hasn’t been able to hire any instructors or technicians to help out. Nonetheless, this brought you all closer together.
“I swear, Lee sees one movie with his wife and gets inspired.” Minji, one of the assistant drum majors, says.
“Agree. Last year he had us do Pirates of the Caribbean because he went on a cruise with his wife.” Namjoon cackles and the rest of the group joins in.
“Alright, alright. Reel it back in,” Hoseok claps.
“He wants to tell a story … said there has to be an opposite attracts meets forbidden love kind of thing. So I’m going to really need to lean on visuals for this.” Hoseok looks in your direction and you are unphased. The visual part of the show was just as important as the music. Where band members held a stoic expression during the show, colorguard told a story using their body, face, and equipment.
“I’m thinking Juicebox can be one of the spies, but we need one from the band. Any volunteers?” Hoseok looks around the room.
Namjoon raises his hand. For a moment, you thought he was going to volunteer. “Think me and my section will have to pass on this one. Almost got taken out by Jimin’s sabre last season.”
“That’s cause you were supposed to catch with your hands and not with your head,” you retort.
“I blame the wind,” Namjoon grins. “Anyway, since sax did something last season, woodwind folks should have immunity.”
“Eh, let’s check in with our sections and see if there are any takers.” Yoongi suggests.
The hour goes by quickly with some distractions here and there. What do you expect from a bunch of college students? Still, you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
To your luck, no one volunteered. As a result, Namjoon begrudgingly offered himself to the task. This was his final season, so he thought he’d go out with a bang.
And indeed, he did. During practice, you demonstrated a toss you planned to do in the show. Upon turning your back to get some water, Namjoon thought it was a good idea to mimic what you did … unsupervised, which landed him in urgent care with two fractured fingers.
“Shit … I’m sorry, Joon,” you say after the doctor left the room with the aftercare summary. A minimum of three to four weeks to heal. You know it was no fault of yours. He’s technically not out for the season, but missing a bulk of practices will be too much to catch up on. A duet with you is out of the question.
“Ha … this was on me. What I get for undermining what you guys do on the field.” He jokes. It was true to some extent, people think all you guys do is twirl around a flag. It was always so much more than that. “I’m the one that should be sorry, Juicebox. Now we have to find someone else for the duet.”
“Don’t worry about it. Just focus on healing. Our first halftime show is in about three months. So you’ll be back on the field at least.” A small part of you worries about not finding a replacement in time. There’s about another 180 band members to ask — one was bound to volunteer, right?
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
snare lord [10:28 p.m.]: Duet position with JB is open. Lmk if you still want it. DON’T be weird.
Jungkook drops his sticks on his drumming pad and sits up from his bed, eyes widening at Yoongi’s message. He waits about 30 seconds before typing up a response so that he doesn't come off desperate. He threw a mini tantrum when Yoongi (deliberately?) failed to mention that the spy duet was with you, but Namjoon had already volunteered by then. This will be a good chance to get to know you and figure out if you truly disliked him. Plus, he’s always been interested in colorguard — interested in you.
Jungkook [10:28 p.m.]: waaaat? wat happened to joon?
Jungkook panics when 10 minutes pass and Yoongi doesn’t respond. Fears that he missed his window and someone else said yes to the part. Perhaps playing nonchalant wasn’t for him.
snare lord [10:41 p.m.]: Injured :/ Do you want to do it or not?
Jungkook [10:41 p.m.]: yes
snare lord [10:42 p.m.]: 👍👍 I’ll give her your contact and you guys can chat more.
This entire ordeal felt surreal, like a fan finally meeting their idol. Simply put, Jungkook admired you. Your work ethics, facial expressions … oh, and flexibility. Yeah. Sure, Jimin can do the splits too. Well, 90% of the folks in your section can, but there’s something so captivating about how you’d slowly drop down into the splits like it’s second nature.
Unknown [11:01 p.m.]: Hey. Is this Jungkook?
He nearly falls out of bed. It’s you. Has to be.
Jungkook [11:01 p.m.]: yours truly. juice???
Unknown [11:01 p.m.]: Yep. Yoongi told me you’re interested in the duet. When’s your first class tomorrow?
Jungkook [11:02 p.m.]: 8 😬 why?
🧃 [11:02 p.m.]: Cool, meet in the band room at 5:30am tomorrow. Wear comfortable clothes you can move in. Thanks for volunteering btw.
He reacts to the message with a thumbs up, smiling as he locks and sets his phone down on his nightstand. Jungkook has never been this excited to wake up early.
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
Early morning practices were not ideal. Having Jungkook as a partner? Not your first pick either, but it’s too late into the season to complain. Beggars can’t be choosers. You’ve got a limited time to train and teach him a routine. You arrive at the band room by 5 to stretch and Jungkook comes through the door by 5:16, eyes and cheeks still swollen from sleep but he greets you with a warm smile. He’s in an all black attire: gym shorts and a fitted long sleeve. His physique doesn't quite match up to Namjoon’s, but you know he’s strong. Got to be when he’s carrying those 35lb drums the entire show.
“Morning,” he sets his backpack to the side and sits in front of you to stretch.
“Hi,” you greet, while going down lower in your butterfly stretch, “thanks again for volunteering.”
He smiles softly with a nod. “So what’s on the lesson plan for today, Cap?”
Today’s practice only involved the basics: ballet positions, floor work, and equipment overview. Nothing crazy. And yet, Jungkook finds himself drenched in sweat an hour into practice. Who knew jazz runs would require him to use all the muscle groups in his ass?
“Remember to turn out. Do it again.” You say with your hands on your hips.
This was the 10th time you made him start over. Jungkook was frustrated. Didn’t realize how stiff his body was from drumming all these years. Also didn’t realize how nervous he’d get under your watch. Jimin warned that your serious mode competed with Hoseok’s. He never doubted this. Jungkook wants to crawl into a hole every time your face fights a scowl when he forgets what to do next. He thought you’d be a little more lenient during the first practice. Was Namjoon subjected to this too?
Practice ends a little before 8 to allow him to cool down and get ready for class. Jungkook watches you put on your hoodie and fix your hair. He didn't think there was a single hair out of place before, but what did he know about perfection when he’s been a total mess the entire practice?
“Good work today,” you say.
“Don’t lie, that was rough,” he jokes before grabbing his stuff.
“Yeah, it was.” You agree and Jungkook’s stomach churns from your bluntness.
He goes on with his day in classes, half thinking about the show’s new drill, half thinking about ways to impress you. Would he earn your approval if he came into practice remembering all the 27 points on the flag? Was this desperation? Possibly. He returns to his dorm room later that evening. Sits on his desk chair and mindlessly drums his hands on his thigh. Wonders if he should ask you if practice was going to be that early every time because he physically doesn’t think he can do that again. Jungkook fishes for his phone in his pocket and sees a couple of notifications, but the only ones that mattered were yours.
🧃 [7:23 p.m.]: No one’s good the first time. Just keep practicing.
🧃 [7:23 p.m.]: Also don’t forget to stretch. You’ll be sore tomorrow.
🧃 [7:25 p.m.]: I know drumline has practice on Monday and Wednesday afternoons. Let me know if Wednesday evenings work for you.
Jungkook didn’t care much for the days of the week, but Wednesdays became his favorite.
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
Weeks go by and Jungkook has made significant improvements. He’s still somewhat stiff, but his passion makes up for what he lacks. The show is about a third written. Homestretch, as Director Lee would say.
“CUT!” Director Lee yells from the stand, “Juicebox, Jungkook, the work looks fine but I’m not feeling the energy. Don’t know what it is, but fix it. Let’s do a 10 minute water break and we start from the ballad.”
“So … how’s working with Jungkook?” Jimin asks. He’s shirtless and unfortunately sunburnt — almost all the band members are. Hard to avoid when it’s blazing outside. Field season essentials were sunscreen and aloe vera.
You knew Jungkook needed some whenever he’d flinched from your touch during a specific part of the show. Maybe you’ll give some to him after practice today.
“It’s fine.”
You look over at Jungkook. He’s with the rest of the drumline, gulping down his water and letting some drip down his neck. Yeah. Definitely hotter today. The weather, that is.
Yuri sighs. “Is it too late to swap, Cap? I don’t mind being Mrs. Smith …” she twirls the ends of her hair and watches Jungkook put on his harness.
“You wanna toss a six on sabre while spinning under it?” Jimin snorts.
Yuri immediately shakes her head and you laugh. You had no doubt that Yuri could do it. She’s an exceptional dancer, but lacked the stamina and confidence when it came to weapons. She knows this too and rather have a special part of the show be done by someone more consistent with their catches.
Jimin turns to you again. “Only asking because Lee has been on you guys for looking … odd.”
There’s a small period of adjustment when it comes to dancing with someone new. Jungkook was … different. Makes you feel weird how he looks up at you in his kneeled position. Makes you feel weirder every time he tenses when you need to sit on one of his thighs for part of the choreo. Bad enough to where you forgot two counts and you never forget.
“Choreo is still fresh for the both of us. It’ll take some time.” You reason. “Anyway, can everyone come over here?” Your section huddles closer. “First show is next week. It’s crunch time, so I need you all to stay an extra hour after the ensemble to clean our work.”
There were some complaints, but no major protest. Everyone knows how important the first show of the season is. It wasn’t like homecoming or anything, but everyone will be there — football parents, band parents, and students.
Director Lee sounds the buzzer on his megaphone and everyone jogs back into position. Jungkook smiles at you in passing and you nod in acknowledgment. His smile drops a little and you feel a small rush of guilt. Maybe you’ve also been difficult too. You think back on Jimin’s question … you know what he’s hinting. You and Jungkook were an important piece of the show. The routine was good. What lacked was chemistry and you knew it was your fault.
How do you go about being more natural with Jungkook when you’ve been holding a grudge? An age old grudge that anyone should’ve forgotten by now, yet you’re reminded of it every time you see him.
You’re on autopilot as you dance around Jungkook during this run through for the evening. This was the part where Jungkook moved his hands at the last minute so that you could pierce the ground with the sabre. Not realizing you were a count ahead, you pierced his hand instead.
He hisses in pain. Minji spots the accident and immediately signals Hoseok to stop.
“I’m so sorry, Jungkook,” you apologize frantically. Hands were a big part of a musician’s career and you’d be damned if you were responsible for hurting Jungkook.
“It’s fine, think I just need some ice,” he winces and holds his hand close to his chest.
“Jungkook, Juicebox, take care of things off the field,” Director Lee calls out, “everyone else, from the top.”
You and Jungkook walk to the bleachers where Director Lee stood.
“Let’s see the damage, kid.” Director Lee holds his hand out. Lee was multifaceted. Truly jack of all trades. The university got really lucky with him … band director, golf coach, and physical therapist. He’s no longer in practice, of course, but he brings a wealth of knowledge and experience to the university. Plus, he’s able to treat folks with minor injuries. You hope this was a minor one.
“That’s a big one,” he turns Jungkook’s hand to one side, pressing down on the top of his palm to inspect the bones. Jungkook grimaces and pulls his hand back.
“Flex and clench your hands,” he hums, “okay, there’s still mobility. Will bruise and hurt for a few days, but I recommend checking with the school nurse tomorrow if you can’t close your fist. Ice up for the rest of practice.”
You jog to Minji’s special cooler for situations like this. Injuries happened to band kids more than you’d imagined. It is, of course, still a sport. You return to Jungkook with a tied bag of ice. He massages his hand and winces in pain when he gets to the center of the injury. As you near, he masks his pain with a smile and you feel even more guilty.
“Thanks,” he says when you hand him the bag. He exhales at the icy touch.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize again, “I was a count early and I didn’t realize your hand was there,” It’s one thing to be in the wrong, it’s another to admit it. You’re only as good as your pride.
He shakes his head, “I knew you hated me but I didn’t think you were trying to take me out the season too.” He tries to joke to lighten the mood, but regrets it when you frown.
“Uh, my bad,” Jungkook apologizes. “That wasn’t—”
“I don’t hate you …” you admit softly.
He pauses, leans against the bleachers, and exhales through his nose, “I know.”
You and Jungkook watch the show from the bleachers. It’s interesting seeing gaps in your respective sections. The show will still go on, but your absence does not go unnoticed.
“Ah, Jimin dropped his flag. That’s another five push-ups.” Jungkook whispers to you.
You snort and chuckle. Jungkook looks shocked for a moment then softens. You’ve always been closed off around him, strictly choosing to discuss the show as his duet partner. This was different.
He likes this side of you. Hates to be those guys who say a woman looks better when they’re smiling. True and false in your case. Cause objectively, you’re an attractive woman. Finds you super cool when you’re expressionless and in the zone.
Jungkook always hated the sun — spent his early years in life constantly running away from it whether it be staying indoors or under a tree. He had the choice to pick between taekwondo or marching band. As much as Jungkook hated the sun, he picked the sport with the most time spent in it. Thinks he can make amends with the sun now.
Because as you smile, Jungkook never thought he’d be so easily swayed at the sight of sunlight hitting your cheekbones.
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
Practice ends with 30 push-ups. You get down from the bleachers to complete yours — not without scolding Jungkook to remain seated since his hand wasn’t in the right condition to do anything strenuous at the moment. He pouts, but adheres to your orders.
Yoongi checks up on Jungkook after he sets his drums down. He whistles at the gnarly bruise and shakes his head at you, mimicking something close to disappointment. “First Namjoon, now Jungkook? You’re actually an undercover agent trying to sabotage us huh, JB?”
“You would’ve been my first target if that were the case.” You shrug. Yoongi chuckles and turns back to Jungkook, who looks at you both peculiarly like the cogs in his brain are slowly piecing something together he doesn’t quite favor.
“Don’t worry about cleaning up. I’ll have one of the guys put away your drum. Just head home.” Yoongi pats Jungkook’s shoulder as he leaves the field.
Before running to get your equipment, you turn to Jungkook again. “Hey, I’m sorry—”
“If you’re gonna apologize again, I’m gonna make Yoongi have you put away my drums instead.”
You sigh. “Fine. I can reschedule our practices if your hand still hurts. Just let me know.” You part ways from Jungkook to wrap up practice with your section. From afar, you spot a hoard of band members gathering around Jungkook to either check on him or admire the injury. He’s cared for by many. If he was anything like the version you’ve conjured in your mind, you don’t think people would be so concerned for his well being.
People change and maybe your perception of Jungkook should too.
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
“Juice? Uh, what are you …” Jungkook looks shocked to see you at the doorway of his room. Didn’t even think you’d know where he stayed, but here you are in all of your glory looking up at him like you shouldn’t be here too. It’s Wednesday, the day after you accidentally stabbed Jungkook's hand, but also the day you’re both supposed to be practicing. Jungkook texted you this morning asking you to reschedule practice because something came up. You had a feeling he was lying about his injury to spare you from guilt.
“How’s your hand doing?” You try to look down, but he has it hidden behind the door.
“It’s alright,” he answers quickly. “Wait, how do you know where I live?”
“Yoongi.” You rock on your heels and look awkwardly around.
“Oh.” He’s unsure why he feels uneasy about this answer. You could’ve just asked him.
“Is there something you need?”
“Not particularly?” God. This was uncomfortable and a part of you wants to apologize for bothering him and leave.
“Would you like to come in?” He looked back at his room to make sure it was presentable. Other than some laundry on his bed he’s been procrastinating on folding and some music sheets on the floor, it’s not half bad.
“Yeah, just for a bit, if you don’t mind. I won’t be long.”
He opens the door wider for you to walk through. No turning back now. His room was utterly plain. Navy blue fitted sheets, spotless desk, and no posters or wall decorations in sight. It’s as if his only use for the place was to sleep. Jungkook gestures over at his desk chair for you to sit. You set your backpack down, not before grabbing a small jar of ointment out. He sits on the edge of his bed and peers over with curious eyes.
“Let me see your hand.” You nod your head at his injured hand. He reluctantly pulls his hand to the front and your eyes widen.
“It’s not as awful as it looks …”
“Jungkook.”
“Okay, yeah, it’s pretty bad.” He chuckles.
You roll the chair closer to him to examine the bruise. Bruises were common in colorguard — in fact, you’ve got plenty on your forearms and legs. The one on Jungkook’s hand tops them all. You unscrew the cap of the ointment jar and scoop a dime sized amount on your finger. Your other hand holds his from the bottom while you carefully dab the medication on the injury. With years of tending to your own wounds, you’ve learned that you should never rub a fresh bruise, but it always speeds up the healing process when you warm the area. Soft in your ministrations, the ointment quickly melts from the warmth of your touch. Jungkook never expected to receive this sort of treatment from a classmate let alone you of all people. This was expected from someone like his mother — someone that cared for him.
Do you?
He doesn’t know what to do with himself. Doesn’t know where he should stare at. Doesn't know if he should feel the way he does.
“Tell me if it hurts.” You don’t look up, strictly focusing on the task at hand.
His hands were much larger than yours. He kept his nails cut short and clean, palms calloused from all the years of drumming. Yours were no different. Manicures weren’t a necessity as you preferred to keep them short. Despite the roughness of your hands, there’s an unexplainable softness in your touch.
A couple of minutes go by and you’re quite impressed Jungkook has gone this long without talking to you. The silence makes you wonder if you should say something. After all, you did barge into his space to apply ointment out of guilt.
“Are you and Yoongi close?”
“Who’d you march with in 2010?”
You and Jungkook look up at one another after asking a question at the same time.
“Yoongi?” Your brows furrow.
“Yeah,” he relaxes at your touch. Your fingers pull at his to release any tension and Jungkook has to fight the urge to moan.
You think for a bit. Were you close to Yoongi? He was one of the few that didn’t give you shit or questioned your capabilities when Lee initially selected you as captain. The bond you shared was built on mutual respect. You suppose that’s one of the important foundations of a friendship. But you wouldn’t say you were too close to him on a personal level. He’s a friend nonetheless.
“Sort of? Why?”
“Nothing. Just wondering.” His shoulders drop. “And 2010? Was still marching in high school.”
Obviously. You internally roll your eyes. Perhaps you need to be more specific.
“Summer 2010. Have you done drum corps?”
Drum corps were independent marching band groups. Similar to intramural sports, people from all over the country tried out for these groups and only the best got selected. Certain groups had an age cap. After that, you “aged out” and joined other groups that accepted all ages, typically less rigorous and accommodating to a wider age range. The circuit you’ve marched with was more competitive … maybe because there was a time constraint to be young and good.
“Summer 2010 …” he repeats back to himself. “Ah! I tried out for Red Angels.”
That was all the confirmation you needed. “I see.”
“Why?”
“Nothing. Just wondering.” You mimic his answer and refocus on your ministrations.
He's lost. One moment you seem fine, but now it feels like you're shutting him out. “Did you do drum corps?” He tries.
“Yup.”
Jungkook lights up. He’s always been a fan of drum corps. Didn’t know you’ve done them too. Though, it shouldn’t come as a surprise. You’re very good at what you do. Hell, half, if not all, of the band could be marching in drum corps, but it was rigorous and costly. After getting cut from auditions back in high school, he hasn’t tried for drum corps again.
“What? I didn’t know that. Who have you marched with?”
“Phantoms and Red Angels.” You recount.
“No way! Wait, Red Angels? When?”
“2010, 2012.”
Jungkook pauses. He doesn’t recall seeing you, but then again, he didn’t make the cut after two weeks of tryouts to remember any faces.
“Alright, I think this is enough,” you say, unsure if you meant the ointment or the conversation.
He’s learned so much more about you in these couple of minutes than he has in the weeks of practice with you. Feels a bit disappointed as you release his hand to grab your stuff.
You place the jar of ointment on his desk. “Make sure to rub some on every night, but be gentle with it. Should speed up the healing process.”
Jungkook is in a daze as he thanks you and walks you out. He’d like to think the tingles on his hand were from the ointment worked into his skin and not from you.
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
You designated Sundays for schoolwork. Because you were rarely home, you preferred working from your apartment, but on rare occasions you’d be forced to go on campus. Today was one of those days. Your internet was down and you had a virtual call scheduled with all the section leaders later. Coffee shops were not ideal due to all the coffee grinding and foot traffic. When in doubt, you head to the campus library to grab a private study room or table. You should’ve known that it would be obsolete, especially on a Sunday. That’s when everyone’s trying to study or get their assignments done. You opt to sit outside instead. Except … the connection was awful and it was warm out. This might be the driving point for you to upgrade your home internet package.
“Come on ...” You try to move closer to the facilities for a better connection. But you keep getting that circle of death on your screen. Maybe you also need a new laptop?
“Juice?”
“Oh, Jungkook. Hi.” You wipe away some of the sweat from your hairline.
Jungkook looked casual in his slides, t-shirt, and sweats. You personally wouldn’t have picked to wear sweats in this weather, but you assume he was just here to pick up his food from the dining corner judging from the greasy brown bag in his hand.
“Whatcha doing?” He asks.
“Homework. Er, trying to at least. Think I’ll go somewhere else … Internet connection is pretty bad out here.” You place your bag on the bench and begin packing.
“Would you like to study at my dorm? Got air conditioning and the connection there isn’t too shabby.”
You want to say no. That night where you helped him with his hand was to absolve your own guilt for physically hurting him. A one off. But you’ve already driven all the way here and you’re not sure where you would go if not just back home. Plus, gas was expensive. ‘Just this once,’ you tell yourself.
He looks at you with eager eyes, smiling wider when you nod.
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
Jungkook was on strike two at the 30 minute mark of studying in his room. The first time was when he started practicing on his drumming pad. The second was when he started humming all his parts in the show. He didn’t lie though — the wifi speed was great here and the air conditioning was nice. Since you occupied his desk, he took his spot on his bed. The times you bent down to get something from your backpack, you’d sneak a peek at what he was up to. He had his earphones in and drummed on his stomach with his hands. The color of his bruised hand looks infinitely better. You’d like to think it was thanks to your ointment, but you know a big part of it was because he was diligent with your instructions. Him and his cooperative nature. He was a good listener — valued what you had to say.
Jungkook turns and catches you staring. You immediately turn back to your laptop. He sighs, “can we talk?”
“I know you said you don’t hate me,” Jungkook starts, “but I can’t help but feel like I did something wrong. Did I?”
“You didn’t.” Half truth.
He doesn’t buy it. “Come on. We’ve been working together and it feels like there’s always this wall—”
“Jungkook,” you run your hand down your face, “has it ever crossed your mind that not everyone’s compatible as friends?”
His face falls. Jungkook was kind enough to offer his space for you to study and here you are being an asshole. Hell, he’s been nice all season from offering to take on the duet after Namjoon’s injury to showing up to all the practices on time. You’re not being fair at all. You don’t understand why you’re like this. Well, no, you do. Maybe if you talked about it, it would give you some closure too.
“You tried out for Red Angels that one summer.” You mumble.
He furrows his brows in confusion. “Yes.” It comes out as a question.
“I remember you.”
“Okay?” He sounds a little frustrated and rightfully so since you’ve been dancing around the topic of you and Jungkook in circles. You also feel a bit stupid now that you’re finally expressing what’s been bothering you.
“I overheard you talking to the other drummers that time. You said something about how colorguard are the cheerleaders of marching band.”
“I did? Juice … I promise I’m not trying to be dismissive, but I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”
You know he’s not. This shit was over five years ago. It’s dumb and the more you talk about it, you realize how stupid of a grudge it was to hold over Jungkook for something that happened to you in high school.
“During my freshman year of high school, I dated a senior,” you reveal.
“Yikes. I’m sorry.”
“I know, big mistake.”
Jungkook internally tries to correlate the two pieces of information, but comes short. He’s confused. So you tell him. Told him how your ex was the drum major of your high school marching band. Told him how you thought he liked you a lot. Told him that you lost your virginity to him one month into dating and how he broke up with you the following week.
“Asshole.” Jungkook mutters.
You smile, “right?”
You clear your throat before continuing, “he said some shit about how colorguard are the cheerleaders of marching band. Was a dig at colorguard and cheerleaders. Like that we’re ‘easy?’”
“I guess … I was upset when I heard it again at the Red Angels tryouts. Fuck, is that stupid?” You palm your forehead. You weren’t expecting to drop your past lore to someone, let alone Jungkook.
“What? No! First off, fuck him. I’m sorry he treated you like that.”
You soften at his words. You don’t really talk much about the things that happened in high school because … honestly, the only good thing that happened in high school was colorguard despite the situation with that senior. Outside of being a pubescent teen, you never cared to reminisce about the past. Found it odd knowing people who called their high school years “the glory days.” You initially decided to go to this university because of their marching band program, but also, you wanted a fresh start. Seeing Jungkook was a reminder of the past.
“It was the past. I associated that situation with what you said at tryouts. We obviously didn’t know each other and I didn’t know I’d be seeing you again in school.” You shake your head.
“Juice,” he says softly.
“In hindsight, it’s stupid. I know. You’re probably a nice dude and you’re free to feel what you feel about people in colorguard—”
“It’s not stupid,” he interrupts. “Fuck that dude. You didn’t deserve that. And no, I don’t think of you or anyone in colorguard that way.”
“But you said …”
Jungkook exhales, “this is going to sound dumb, but back then I thought the saying meant that colorguard were the highlight of the marching band performance … kind of like the fact that cheerleaders are the highlight of football games. I honestly didn’t know there was another meaning.” He mumbles.
“Oh.”
You and Jungkook stare at each other with pursed lips now that everything has aired out.
“I’m glad you told me about your past. That explains some things …” he looks to the side, “I hope you know I’m not that kind of person. And I understand what you mean about people just not being compatible. Friendships can’t be forced and I won’t force that on you either.”
You nod, “thank you.” You’ve been difficult all this time and now that Jungkook was respecting your boundaries, you feel out of place.
“Don’t you have a section leader meeting soon?” He nods at his digital clock.
“How did you know?”
He smiles sheepishly, “Yoongi complains about it in the group chat. Says it’s overkill.”
You snort. “It is, but Lee thinks it’s good for us.”
“Yeah, well … I’ll just be here,” he puts his earphones back in his ears and lays back on his bed. Your stare lingers before you turn back to your laptop. You’re a little embarrassed about how this transpired in the last couple of minutes, but there’s relief in knowing you were wrong about Jungkook. More than that, you realize why people appreciated him.
Your virtual meeting starts and you assume it’ll be a quick one, that is until Hoseok gets to your updates. “Sooo, Juicebox. Lee has this crazy idea …”
You tilt your head. Whatever Lee wants, Lee gets. Just the matter if he’ll give you enough time to execute it.
Hoseok smiles sheepishly, “last time, we had Namjoon catch a sabre tossed to him. What if we had a band member toss AND catch something? Jungkook, specifically. Lee was thinking … a five. Is that unreasonable?”
Unreasonable was an understatement. Namjoon’s catch was different … for one, it was just a triple, three rotations in the air. Second, Jimin was the one that tossed it to him. A five? There were people that have spun for years and never reach a five on a weapon. Not that they were bad, but people had different strengths and skill sets. Jungkook was just your partner in this show. You’ve only taught him the basics in the event Lee wanted something extra. You weren’t expecting this.
“I don’t know if it’s possible. I can try to train him, but no promises.”
“Don’t think it’s a good idea,” Yoongi interjects, “Jungkook is lead tenor. I need him in top condition … if he gets hurt again …”
“Not saying it’s a must or anything. Let’s explore that idea and if it’s a no go, we won’t move forward with it.” Hoseok says.
Everyone on the call reacts with a thumbs up. The call shifts over to the topic of a fundraiser. “Rehearsathon,” as Namjoon calls it, involved each band member reaching out to sponsors for donations to pledge they’ll rehearse for 12 hours straight. It sounds ridiculous, but Namjoon swears it works. Raises money for the band and everyone gets in extra practice time — hits two birds with one stone. He thinks it’ll be a great opportunity to chat up with some folks at the upcoming football game to get some sponsors.
Having ended the call an hour later, you think you’ve overstayed your welcome. You pack up and mentally prepare to tell Jungkook you’re leaving.
“What’s not possible?” Jungkook straightens himself up on his bed.
“Were you eavesdropping?”
“Guilty,” he confesses, “can’t blame me … I’m literally two feet away and these earphones aren’t exactly noise cancelling. So, what’s not possible?”
“Lee wants to add another wow factor into the show.” You get up and Jungkook stands up as well, “wants you to do a five on weapon.”
“I don’t see why not. It’s worth a try.”
You put on your backpack and look at Jungkook incredulously. “Namjoon got taken out for a couple weeks by accident.”
“Okay, but you’ll be teaching and watching me, right?” He looks at you with those big, hopeful eyes again and you wonder to yourself if you both aren’t as compatible as you deem.
“Fine. We’ll try it next practice. Thanks again for letting me work here … you didn’t have to.” You mumble.
“Yeah, cause this space is only reserved for friends.” He jokes. “Kidding, Juice. It’s really no big deal.”
Ever so the gentleman, Jungkook walks you to your car even after you reassured that it’s not needed. He made up some excuse that he just wanted some fresh air.
You both arrive at your car and you turn to him. “Well, thanks again.” You unlock your car and toss your backpack into the backseat. He waves and tells you to drive safely. The distance between you and Jungkook grows as he walks back to his dorm.
You don’t know what compelled you to call out his name, but he turns quickly as if he’s also been waiting for this moment. “I never said I didn’t want to be friends with you. And yeah, you’re right. Colorguard is the highlight of the show.”
He smiles, and it’s devastating. How your body warms from just his smile. How it dismantles the walls you’ve built up around Jungkook. The foundation was weak to start, waiting for the right moment to crumble and start anew. You’re sure you can.
“I know. See you at practice, Juice.”
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
Men in colorguard dominated the weapon line. They had the strength and stamina to toss a rifle with little to no struggle. Pain tolerance though? You question that. Jungkook had the energy, but his control was off. It’s not his fault. This was his first time touching a rifle. The average person isn’t tossing and catching random objects. Anything that goes up, will have to come down. And having a rifle barreling down your head isn’t anyone’s idea of fun.
“You have to squeeze.” You say after another lofty toss that has you both dodging the drop.
“What does that mean?” He complains, “I am squeezing, see?” Jungkook shows his hands gripping the rifle harder.
“No, your core.”
“What even is that?”
You place your hand on his stomach and another one on his lower back. Skinship in colorguard was normal, especially in dance. You’re used to it. You’d think Jungkook would be too. After all, there’s never a point in the show where you’re not touching each other. Yet, he tenses up under your touch.
“Think of it as sucking in air and a string is pulling from your back.” You look up at him, “try it.”
Jungkook tries to follow your instructions but ends up with his back hunched over like a turtle. You laugh, now moving in front of him as you grab one of his hands from the rifle. Instinctively, you place it on your own stomach. His hand spays over your abdomen — big, warm, secure. You freeze. You shake off the feelings and take a step closer to Jungkook, not quite able to look up from your position.
“Like this,” you demonstrate the technique, “feel the difference?” You press his hand harder against you. You certainly feel it … the lightest change of pressure in his fingertips, the small movement from his thumb. No one would have noticed, but you do.
You hear him swallow and exhale a shaky breath, “uh huh.”
“Good,” you step back and let his hand fall back to his side, “reset and do it again.”
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
Jungkook’s #1 remedy to a sore body was a hot shower.
He’d run up the water bill back at home with the amount of hot showers he’d take after practice. At school? No difference. Even better now that he didn’t have his family breathing down his neck for taking up all the water. These days, he finds himself doubling down on his showers. He definitely underestimated the level of difficulty to perform as a musician and colorguard.
It hurts. His feet, shoulders, hands … literally everything.
All worth it though, especially on those rare occasions where your eyes light up after he’d reach another milestone in those private sessions.
He’s greedy for more. A smile. A compliment. A high five. Anything. Jungkook collects them in his invisible stamp book of accomplishments. Didn’t think he’d unlock something new today — something foreign within himself.
The hot water beats down on his skin. It’s scalding, borderline painful. Even so, it doesn’t compare to how punishing his hand is wrapped around his hard, leaky length. Jungkook supports himself upright with one hand on the shower wall. He shakes. Grunts lowly. He shouldn’t feel this way for you. Shouldn’t think this way of a teammate. A section leader, at that. You’re in his head whether he likes it or not.
Damn you and the innocent stunt you pulled during practice.
Damn you and those short shorts.
Damn you and your pretty eyes.
Because he’s here thinking about how you’d feel pressed against him, shorts pulled down, eyes watery from how good he’d make you feel. Would you praise him? Lose yourself on him? Encourage him to keep going? His hand speeds up.
Then, the unthinkable happens: your name slips out.
Shame needs no welcome.
“Fucking hell,” Jungkook groans, orgasm slipping away as he abruptly lets go of his cock at the last second. He cranks the shower knob to the coldest setting. This was so wrong. You deserved better — shouldn’t be reduced to some weird fantasy.
He pushes his wet bangs away from his forehead. Shakes his head as he scolds himself, “get a grip, man.”
Hot showers were his #1 remedy for a sore body.
Cold showers became his #1 remedy for you.
Jungkook quickly finishes his shower to rid himself of those sinful thoughts. Tucked in bed by 10pm, he scrolls through his social media, praying he’ll find something worthwhile of a distraction. Just as he was going to call it quits and step out for a walk, his phone rings.
Incoming call: Chaewon.
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
You never really understood football. Didn’t really bother to pay attention to it when you were in high school since your team was notorious for losing. You were only there to perform for the halftime shows. College football was different. More lively. You still didn’t get the rules of the sport, but you appreciated the school spirit. Also was nice that your band played music whenever your school scored.
Hair and makeup was done thirty minutes before the show since nobody wanted to sweat off their work during the practice run throughs. You give a quick pep talk to your section. There’s always first show jitters, but you all worked so hard. Mistakes were inevitable and will motivate you all to improve for the next performance. So will push-ups, if Director Lee catches any in the stands.
“Hey.”
You turn at the familiar voice. Jungkook has on his uniform, harness hidden underneath it so it looked like the drums were floating in front of his body. Hat with the signature school feather tucked at his side, he looks polished.
“Ready to crush our duet?”
“Of course,” you grin, “if you make a mistake, you’re doing my push-ups.” Banters come a lot easier after the confrontation you had with Jungkook awhile ago. You feel more at ease with him these days.
“Cruel. Aren’t captains supposed to sink with their ship?”
“You’re on your own ship.”
“Ouch.” He chuckles. “Hey, can you zip me up? Forgot to ask one of the guys for help before coming over here.” He turns and bends lower for you to reach.
“All done.”
“Thanks, you’re a gem.” He turns slowly just to make sure he doesn’t hit anyone with his drums. Jungkook studies your face for a brief moment, clears his throat, and smiles.
“I like your eye makeup by the way. Blue suits you.”
“Yeah? Thanks,” you flush at his words.
Most show makeup was done heavier so that the audience could see. Realistically, no one can see your face from the stands. Perhaps that’s why your parents never came to your shows. Too many band members, too hard to spot. No parent wants to waste time playing Where’s Waldo with their kid.
“Jungkook!”
Jungkook looks around for the source of voice and he waves excitedly, “Ma!”
You watch a short middle aged woman weave through the crowds. Her bangs were pinned away from her face. There’s an uncanny resemblance between her and Jungkook. It’s all in the eyes. She side steps his drums and gives him a hug with lots of pats on his back.
“I told you I was going to meet you all later after the show, Ma,” Jungkook says with a sweet smile, “how’d you even find me?”
“I always know where my son is!” She chuckles. In a sea of band kids and a filled stadium, it would be hard to locate your kid. Though how hard would it be to spot a boy with tenor drums? There were only four of them in the band. “Look at how tan you’ve gotten. Don’t forget to wear sunscreen. I know you burn easily.”
“Ma …” he grumbles. He knows it comes from a place of endearment. After all, his parents supported him all throughout high school and college by coming to his shows, even volunteering to carpool and host meals for the marching band. It’s a type of community and support he won’t take for granted.
Jungkook looks out to the crowd, “where’s dad and Junghyun?”
“You know them. They’re in line for some nachos.”
You slowly back away to let him chat with his mom. It’s not that you disliked social interactions … you just really didn’t know what to do or say.
“Oh, Ma, this is Ju-,” he recovers quickly by saying your actual name, “she’s the colorguard captain.”
“Oh! Is she my favorite one to watch, Kookie?”
“Wha-? I thought I was your favorite to watch …”
“We got cameras for a reason.”
You giggle and shake her hand. You can tell where Jungkook gets his energy from.
“Your parents must be very proud of you. Such a lovely performer.” She praises.
Your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes at the mention of your parents, but you nod your head in agreement, “thank you.”
Sensing your discomfort, Jungkook jumps in, “Ma, we gotta go warm up now. Make sure you watch me. I’ve got a special part in the show.”
She pinches his cheeks, “wouldn’t miss it for the world, hon. Good luck, you two.” His mom quickly makes it through the crowd and up the stands.
“Sorry, my mom can be a bit eccentric.”
You shake your head. “She’s cute. I can see where you get your personality from.” Wait. Pause. That came out wrong and you hope Jungkook didn’t catch that either.
“You think I’m cute?” Nothing flies over his head.
“I think you need to worry more about pointing your toes during our routine.”
“Ugh, you sound just like Yoongi.”
“Wrong. I haven’t made you do push-ups. Though I probably should with the amount of times you dropped the rifle.” For that reason, you let the director know that the toss won’t be in the show … at least for this performance. It’s still too fresh and you would rather have a clean show with an easy routine.
“Cruel.”
You smile, “I’ll see you on the field.”
“Hey, Juice?”
“Hm?”
“Full out?” He says with a playful grin.
It’s a term he’s picked up from you over practice when you want him to perform at his best. This was your life motto. If you had to do something, you were going to do it full out. Do it so well that when the moment is finished, you could look back fondly and proudly at your accomplishments.
“Full out.” You mirror his smile.
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
The halftime show went well. Some mistakes were made, but what’s done is done.
“Gah! I can’t believe I dropped when I was on the diva spot.” Jimin complains. The diva spot, a.k.a. the 50 yard line, was every colorguard member’s dream. For a moment, you were the center of the show. It’s one thing to be on it, it’s another if you had to do something big. And Jimin had a major toss that he missed. Nerves probably. Happens to the best, but it’s still not a good feeling for opener night.
“I hate this uniform. I’m soaked in my sweat.” Yuri says as she carefully wipes her face, avoiding her eyes.
“My feet hurt.” Another girl whines.
Your mind races, still trying to catch your breath from the show. Performing in front of an audience was different. The cheers, the lighting, the adrenaline. You do your best to soak in the moment, but all you want is a bottle of Gatorade and to get out of this uniform.
“Pain is just weakness leaving the body,” Director Lee comes from the corner. Ah, another one of his sayings he got from Pinterest.
“Nice work, guard. I saw that drop, Jimin. Tighten things up.” Director Lee comments while noting down something on his clipboard.
“Yes sir …”
“Director Lee, is there any way we can order new uniforms? It’s like a body sauna in this one.” Yuri inquires.
“Huh? Aren’t you kiddos into that bodysuit look?”
“Not when we look extra sweaty.”
“It’s not sweat, it’s glow.” Everyone groans at another one of his Pinterest quotes. Compared to the rest of the band, he’s a lot nicer with colorguard. He doesn’t know much about colorguard, but knows how hard you all work. As tough as Director Lee was in general, he’s a softie with guard … even with all the cringy dad jokes he makes.
“Juicebox, I thought the duet with Jungkook was nice. I’m expecting Jungkook to be ready for the five next show. Still think something is not clicking. Don’t know what though,” he writes down another note in his clipboard, “but I trust you’ll get it fixed.”
“Yes sir.” You don’t know what to fix if he doesn’t tell you. One of those moments where you feel like you’re trying to hit a moving target. Perhaps talking to Jungkook about it may help. He hit all his marks in the show. You’re proud of his growth. Think it’s only right you expressed that, just as you do with your members whenever they hit a milestone.
The band sets up their equipment in the stands again after the show. You look for Jungkook. He isn’t hard to spot. Not because he was tall or anything, but because of the swarm of people around him. Specifically cheerleaders. You liked your cheer team. Their work ethics mirrored closely to colorguard. What you don’t understand is the weird gnawing feeling in your stomach the moment you catch Jungkook and the rest of the girls laughing at something he said.
What’s that about?
He spots you. Smiles wider. Says something quick to the girls before he tries to walk away. Seemingly in your direction at least, but the girls don’t let him leave for whatever reason.
Like the other band members, you gather around the cooler for some refreshments.
“Damn it. Jungkook is a genius for rounding up sponsors from the cheerleaders,” Jaehyun takes a bite of his granola bar.
“You say it like they’d give you a single penny if you asked,” another member says. “He’s always been popular with the cheer team. Probably the dude with the most charisma unlike the majority of us band geeks.”
“I’ll have you know that my flirting skills—”
“Anyone who needs to talk about how great their flirting skills are, has none,” Yuri interrupts.
“You’re just a hater,” Jaehyun rolls his eyes.
“And you look like…” more insults get fired back and forth between the two.
You take the stairs up to where the guard sat during the games. There’s not much for you to do until call time. If you really wanted to, you could choreograph something, but being at the game was already enough. That’s what the cheer and dance teams were for anyway.
Yoongi groans in his descent to the seat next to yours. Says he has old man knees. Ridiculous claim for a 22 year old, but you’re sure every band member has some sort of long term injury at this rate. Yoongi juts his chin to the bottom of the stands. “Think they’re gonna date?”
“Who?” Your eyes zero on Jungkook and the cheer captain. He still hasn’t departed from the group.
“The noobs.” Yoongi puts his feet on the empty bleacher.
“Jaehyun and Yuri?” You laugh. “No way. They hate each other.”
“So did Romeo and Juliet.”
“Okay, but they died too.”
“Ugh, JB, you’re such a pessimist.” He snorts.
“No, just a realist.”
You look down to where Jungkook stands. He’s no longer focused on the surrounding conversation. Has this antsy body language like he’s in search of something … or someone? Keeps looking back and forth between whoever was talking to him and the bleachers. Specifically, in your direction.
“He likes you.”
“Jaehyun?” You avert from the obvious answer. “Not interested in noobs.”
Yoongi squints his eyes and smirks. “You’re no dummy, JB.”
“Don’t know who and what you’re talking about, Yoongs.”
“He’s not a bad kid,” Yoongi continues, “a little rough around the edges, but he tries hard. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”
“Since when have you started playing wingman for Jungkook?”
“See, I knew you were no dummy.”
You stick your tongue out. Yoongi takes the hint and drops the topic, choosing to stare at the open football field.
“I’m gonna miss this,” he says after a beat. “Should I fail one of my classes to be a super senior?”
“I wouldn’t hate graduating with you. We’d get our captain plaques together on senior night.”
“Dad would kill me if he had to pay for another semester.”
You chuckle and lean back. Hoseok calls the band to prepare as the game starts up again. Yoongi goes back down with his section and you’re with yours. Being at the top of the stands, you’re also closer to the stadium lights where all the gnats and moths gather. Can’t help being tempted by the light. You have a lot in common with them. Feel for them, actually. Because much like them, you’re also helplessly drawn to Jungkook’s light.
You don’t understand football, but it’s a nice distraction to put out the little spark of curiosity for a certain tenor drummer.
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
You’re off.
Maybe it’s cause of what Yoongi planted in your head. Maybe. Because you find yourself looking for Jungkook on the field whenever Hoseok signals the band to stop. With only four tenors in the band, he’s not hard to spot. Jungkook was always the last one to fall out of attention after Yoongi taps on his snare. You also find yourself fixated on his bare back and how it flexes when he leans to tilt his drums up. You tell yourself you’re only looking because of what his mother said at the recent football game. He burns easily — shoulders look a little raw and the harness rubbing against it doesn’t make it any better.
Jungkook is just as equally to blame for these weird times. He texts you every day and sends you corny marching band memes. Honestly? They weren’t that funny, but you chuckle nonetheless when you see Jungkook follow up with a ‘LOLOLOLOL us.’ Serves to only confirm he’s also thinking about you.
You spend most of your days in practice with him — you’re bound to think of him outside of it. Especially when you’re at the local drugstore to get some tampons and you come across a bottle of aloe vera. All you have to do is hand it to him. And yet, the bottle remains with you for the next two weeks, burning a hole at the bottom of your backpack.
Granted, you had plenty of chances to give it to him since you’re over at his dorm every Sunday to study. Don’t know when this routine started, but you’d have to thank your spotty wifi for that. It doesn’t take much to convince you either. Good air conditioning, decent wifi, clean space … and Jungkook. Speaking of which, he’s on the floor drumming on his pad. Your brain tricks you to think of it as white noise at this point — loud and comforting. Not sure if you could fall asleep to it, but probably for the better during these study sessions.
His drumming comes to an abrupt stop, “Juice?”
“Hm?” You don’t turn around, too fixated on annotating your lecture notes.
“Do you always bruise around your legs?”
It’s not uncommon for colorguard members to bruise, given that accidents occurred on a daily basis. Whether you miscalculate a toss or there’s overuse of certain body parts, injuries were inevitable. The bruises on your knees are an unfortunate byproduct of all the floor routines you’ve endured. They’re your battle scars. Pretty like the galaxy. That’s one way to view them outside of the pain.
You turn around. Big mistake.
Jungkook looks up at you with starry eyes. It doesn’t help that his five-inch inseam shorts have lifted in his seated position. You’ve always had a weird obsession with tanlines and the ones on Jungkook’s thighs blend perfectly together.
His eyes move from your face and down to your exposed legs. He points at one of the bruises on your shin, “that’s a new one.”
“Very observant of you.” You reply.
He goes red. As if he got caught red-handed doing something forbidden. You quickly follow up with a lighthearted chuckle to diffuse the awkwardness. “But yes, I do bruise easily. Takes a while for it to heal too,” you cross your legs.
“That sucks … guess we all have a weakness, yeah? You with bruising and me with burning.” He chuckles, “B&B.”
“The harness doesn’t help with the sunburn, huh?”
Jungkook smiles, “very observant of you.”
You roll your eyes, think this would be a good time to give him the aloe vera, so you dig through your bag and toss him the bottle. Jungkook catches it with ease and fumbles around his nightstand and tosses you an unopened box. “Trade you.”
It’s the same ointment you brought him a while ago for his hand. You already have some at home, but it felt nice knowing he also thought of you too.
He sits on his bed, grabs his shirt from the back of his collar, and tugs it off his body. Most people shy away from nudity, but band kids are a different breed. You’ve seen people practice in nothing but their undergarments in the past. You should be used to this — to Jungkook’s body. Keyword: should.
You swallow at the sight of his broad back, lean waist, and defined biceps. You should avert your eyes. Again, keyword: should.
Your eyes follow his hands as they reach around his shoulders to smear the liquid on his skin.
“You missed a spot.”
“Huh,” he turns to his floor-length mirror to see and attempts to reach back around. Fails again.
“Want me to help?” The wheels on Jungkook’s desk chair squeak as you roll closer.
“Yeah, if you don’t mind.” He hands you the bottle and turns around. You squeeze the bottle and watch the dime sized liquid dribble on his back. He shudders and exhales softly.
You wonder if the deep shade of red on the tip of his ears was just another place he burned easily. Jungkook’s skin feels hot at the touch. Find the freckles and moles on his back endearing. Find it more endearing that he could never see them like you do. Much like his starry eyes, his back mirrors the constellations in the sky, begging to be traced and mapped by your fingers. By you.
“There, all done.” You close the cap and set the bottle on the nightstand.
He clears his throat, “want me to help?” Jungkook points at the ointment in your lap.
Now it’s your turn to feel shy. “I can do it myself.”
He tilts his head, “I know you can.”
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
You’re surprised at yourself — surprised you agreed for his help, surprised you’re seated on Jungkook’s bed with your foot perched on one of his thighs. You position your hands behind to support you upright.
“This okay?” Jungkook asks as he starts on the smaller bruises around your ankle. You’re not sure if he means this entire ordeal or the pressure he’s kneading into your skin. Regardless, you nod and bite the inside of your cheeks. You never realized how sensitive you were — never realized how much the bruises ached outside of your own touches. It’s been a long time since anyone has tended to your wounds, so this was different. A good different.
“You can go a little harder. Those are old.”
He does as he’s told. Always good, ever so obedient.
Jungkook eventually makes it up to your knees. You’ve let out a few shaky breaths in the time he’s worked the ointment into your skin, all while noticing the way his mouth parts at your reactions.
He eyes the last bruise between your thighs, and back up to your eyes, “there, all done.”
Something shifts in you.
“But you missed one.” You tilt your head, feigning ignorance just to see what he would do. He always does as he’s told, but you sense some hesitancy. Not because he’s uncomfortable, but because he’s unsure what will happen next if he touches you beyond what’s appropriate.
“Juice …”
“What?” You stare at him through hooded eyes, “I thought you wanted to help me.”
“And if I don’t?” He leans in, watches if you’d move away. You don’t, so he takes the chance to rest your leg down on his lap.
“Push-ups.” You say without another thought, also leaning in.
He laughs through his nose, “might do something that’ll warrant that anyways.”
“Like what?” You ask, “show me.” You have an idea of what will happen next. At least, you hope. There’s no doubt something changed between you two since that talk. Sure, you feel more comfortable around him, but lately? You’ve also been feeling other things. As much as you’d like to blame Yoongi, you know it’s your own attraction for Jungkook.
“Yeah?” His face is centimeters from yours.
“Yeah,” you nod, nose grazing his.
He kisses you.
Nothing more than a small peck to test the waters, but he waits a millisecond, which earns himself a soft whine from you as confirmation to continue. Your hand cups his jaw and pulls him in.
“Again,” you breathe, “do it again.”
It’s the same order you’d give to anyone making a mistake in colorguard, but this was no mistake. Call it a Pavlov response or whatever; Jungkook always does as he’s told. Tries his best to make it good for you — doesn’t take much. He angles his head a little, does this pouty thing with his lips that has you feeling warm all over. You lick at his lips. It’s tentative, careful, and slow — gets him breathing heavier.
“Fuck,” he muffles a small groan.
Jungkook parts his mouth and the rest is history. Every lick, every nibble, every breathy moan felt experimental and deliberate all at once. Thumb tracing your cheek, the pressure of his fingertips on your hips has you keening. Time is an illusion because you’d spend the entire afternoon kissing Jungkook if you could. He pulls away first, lips pink and swollen with a sheen of saliva you’re unsure who it belonged to.
He swallows, “well?”
“Well, what?” You say, slightly out of breath.
“Do I still need to do push-ups?”
You snort. He beams. You do spend the rest of the afternoon kissing Jeon Jungkook.
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
“I’ve got to say, Juicebox,” Namjoon pauses to chug the rest of his water, “I don’t think I could’ve pulled off what Jungkook is doing with you.”
You almost spit out your water. “H-huh?”
Did Namjoon know something happened between you and Jungkook?
“The duet. You guys are killing it.”
“Oh. Yeah,” you relax, “extra practice helps.”
Practice does help. And so do the kisses in between breaks that Jungkook swears by makes him improve. You don’t require much persuading to fall into his requests. Enjoy it too much to be restrictive of his affections. As a result, things get a little … difficult during ensemble practices because all Jungkook wants to do is pull you away to kiss you silly. Deprivation of each other works out in your favor because Director Lee no longer mentions how you both need ‘more chemistry.’
“Nice. Hoping for a solid show for all of us by the end of the month. My high school is going to be there.” The marching band was scheduled to perform at the end of a high school circuit competition. Director Lee says it’s a good way to get the school’s name out for prospects thinking about which university to attend.
“Also, is Jungkook okay? He keeps looking over here.” Namjoon nods his head from the side.
You don’t even have to look. Jungkook’s been doing this every practice. Like a touch starved puppy waiting for their owner to come home. As endearing it is, you’re worried. If Namjoon noticed, eventually the other band members would too.
“Think he’s just zoning out.” You lie.
“True. Eyes are giving pug.” Namjoon stands up and pulls the neck strap over his head, “alright, last run through for the day.”
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
“You need to stop staring so much during practice,” you say in between kisses. Jungkook was over at your place under the guise to troubleshoot your shitty Internet connection. Quite confident it wasn’t your internet tier, but that it was just an old router. Ten minutes into inspecting your router, you end up pinned underneath Jungkook on your couch.
“Why? You don’t like it?”
“Namjoon said you looked like a pug.”
“Pugs are cute.”
“They are,” you concede.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“Just-oh!” You look down at the source pressed at your heat. Jungkook is almost always hard during and after kissing, that much you know. Whether it’s from a simple peck or minutes of making out, he’s sporting a boner. Doesn’t take much to rile him up. Though, he’s never done anything further. Just tells you:
“Ignore that,” he trails kisses down your jaw and neck, “so what’s the problem?”
“Don’t want people assuming.”
“Oh.” Jungkook pauses and sits up on his heels, “right, sorry.”
You don’t mean to hurt his feelings. It doesn’t help that you’re a private person and things feel extremely preliminary with Jungkook at the moment. You like him, but for all you know, he could just be in it for a fun time. If this was going to die out, you rather have the least people know about it. It’s not like you’re actively wishing for an inevitable end.
Realistically, it doesn’t hurt to prepare for hurt.
Mood completely shifted, Jungkook sits upright and looks around your apartment. It’s neat, feels homey with how you decorated it. Most of your furniture was secondhand or thrifted, but you took good care of it. He eyes the shelf containing your awards, dried flowers, and pictures with all the different groups and friends you’ve marched with. You’re more sentimental than you appear to be. Marching with these groups was no simple feat, but you looked back fondly at all the memories created. You know you’ll do the same for your university years too.
“Wish I could’ve done drum corps,” Jungkook sighs. If he was phased by whatever transpired moments ago, he doesn’t show it.
“Did you try out other groups?” You sit up, knees brought close to your chest.
“Nah, I don’t think I’m good enough.”
Now, you initially thought there wasn’t anything remarkable about Jungkook’s drumming skills. But let’s be real … you didn’t read music nor play an instrument, so what did you know about drumming? What you do know is that Jungkook tried hard. He was more than capable of passing auditions and marching in drum corps. You’re sure of it.
“You won’t know until you try.”
“Maybe,” he dismisses the thought with a nod. “Would’ve been nice to join two years ago and claim I was in the season where they had tenors drum upside down.”
“Yeah, I remember that,” you smile, “was pretty cool.”
“You’re the cool one for doing drum corps,” he praises, “did you do a lot of fundraising to pay for membership dues?”
You shake your head, “no, my parents did.”
“Nice of them to support you.”
“Yeah, I guess?” You shrug, not sure how to reply, “they … never really came to my shows.”
Jungkook frowns, “why not?”
“Work? I don’t know … they just never made the time. I stopped asking them to come after a while, so I guess it’s my fault they don’t know my schedule.”
His eyes soften. You never realized how natural Jungkook was with affection and comfort. So natural in how he tugs at your wrist, lays you down with him on the couch, and cradles your cheek.
“The way you perform … it’s an absolute privilege to watch you. They’re missing out.” He tells you with so much conviction, “Ma would argue you’re the only one worth watching.” He jokes.
“She’s cute.”
“A menace,” he corrects with a grin, “cause she should pay more attention to her son. But I get it, I’d watch you too.” Jungkook has a way of making you feel special. Like you mattered. Supported. Something you hoped you’d see from your parents in the past, but come to terms you’ll never receive. Now, it’s all coming in the form of Jungkook. And you don’t know what to do with all these emotions except feel guilty and apologetic for what took place moments ago.
“I’m sorry about what I said about not wanting others to assume. It’s just …”
“You don’t have to apologize, Juice. I understand where you’re coming from.”
Does he? It’s like him to be nice about it. You wouldn’t put it past Jungkook, but his words feel … withdrawn? Rehearsed? You’re unsure if you want to open this can of worms with him, let alone if he wanted to talk about it. Instead, you press a soft kiss on his lips, “thank you.”
He groans and pulls you into a hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Are you tryna make me hard?”
“You’re so easy,” you laugh.
“You’re telling me you don’t get turned on when we kiss?” He looks at you incredulously.
You shake your head — a lie. “Nope, all you.” You say as one of your legs hook over his hip.
“I call bluff.” He kisses you, slow, tongue licking the seam of your lips. You lightly suck on his tongue and bite the bottom of his lips, giggling as he moans.
“Wanna check?” Feeling bold, your hand wraps around his wrist and leads it to your midsection, stopping just slightly above your shorts.
“Want me to?” He looks at you through hooded lids.
“Yeah, I do,” you nod, “prove me wrong.” You let out a tiny gasp as his hand slips past your shorts.
“Jungkook,” you whimper as his middle finger slips between your folds. The feeling of someone else’s hand other than your own has you feeling hot all over. Jungkook lets out a little wrecked noise before diving back to your lips for a messy kiss. His hand moves slowly, circling your clit, working out some of the prettiest moans.
“Liar,” he chuckles against your lips. His hand goes lower, fingers collecting your slick at your entrance before smearing it all over your clit.
Your jaw goes slack when his fingers move faster. “N-no, I’m not.”
You feel the vibrations on your lips as he hums. “Think I need to see. Will you let me?”
Such a stupid bit you guys have going on, but you both play it so well. Your shorts and panties are tossed somewhere in your living room, bare ass hanging halfway off the couch. Jungkook kneels on the carpet floor, in an absolute trance. Whatever he’s fantasized in the last month will never compare. Simply spreads and pushes your legs further apart.
“Pretty,” he murmurs to himself. Not sure if he’s talking about you or your pussy; regardless, you smile at the compliment.
“Done checking?” Your eyes move from his down to your wet pussy.
“Yeah. I guess I was wrong.” One of his hands moves to cup the side of your ass, parts your folds more. His thumb strokes up and down your slit, arousal apparent from your wetness.
“Told you.” You shut your eyes when you feel his thumb apply more pressure to your clit.
“So dry,” Jungkook watches you clench around nothing. “Think I gotta help you.” He lowers his head, cheeks hollow a little before he dribbles a glob of spit onto your bare cunt. You arch your back at the sensation of it trailing down your pussy. Jungkook’s face is centimeters away from your pussy, warm breath fanning over. He waits for your permission, places a delicate kiss on the side of your thigh, eyes never leaving yours. Your hand comes underneath your thigh to hold his hand during this intimate act.
“Yeah, think so too. Need you to help me.”
Jungkook eats pussy like how he makes out. Hot. Pouty. Whimpery. It does something to your heart when he interlocks his hand with yours, thumb caressing your hand. Soft and soothing. So different from how he has his lips wrapped around your clit, licking and sucking ruthlessly. You let out a broken sob when he suddenly pries your legs further apart before fucking his tongue in you. He pauses in between to spit, uncaring of where it lands because he knows it’ll eventually mix with the rest of your slick.
“Oh my god!” You shut your eyes, too overcome from the pleasure.
“Is that good, baby?” Baby. You like that. You like it more knowing he asked that question to check in on you as if your reactions weren't a giveaway. Couldn’t possibly formulate a response in the time he goes back to your clit, head moving side to side.
The pleasure builds and builds until you gasp. Body curling in and thighs locking Jungkook’s head in place, you cum.
White splotches fill the back of your lids. Jungkook was absolutely entranced by your orgasm. He groans, eats you out sloppily just cause. You can only lay there and take everything he’s giving you, hand clutching his tighter when it gets too much. Jungkook finally lifts himself off you when your whimpers die down, marveling at your glistening sex. He was a sight to see: disheveled hair, red nose, and wet chin.
“Wanna watch you cum again. Please?” His fingers circle your entrance.
You sigh prettily. “Come here.”
He obliges. Leans over your body with one of his hands still between your legs. You waste no time in pulling him down to a heated kiss, loving the taste of you on his tongue. The squelching noises intensify as you buck your hips into his hand. Drives you crazy that Jungkook hasn’t put his fingers in yet.
You pull away, “hear that?” You circle your hips. “You did that. Made me so wet — made me feel so good.”
“God, you’re so hot,” he moans, two fingers finally entering your pussy. He’s slow at first, mindful of your previous orgasm. Builds some speed once you pant into his mouth for more, fingers curling and letting the rise and drop of your hips do the work.
“You’re creaming.” Like a new discovery only he could lay claim on. Like he didn’t know he could get you like this. Because truthfully, only he has ever gotten you like this. He stares at the mess between your legs, white coating his digits and seeping down your ass the more he thrusts.
You can only whine and arch your back against the couch. That familiar feeling blooms in the pits of your stomach again.
“I’m gonna—”
He nods, keeps the same speed and watches you with blown out pupils. Doesn’t know where to focus. Decides at the last moment that it should be your face and feels no regret when you cum a second time on his fingers.
“You’re so pretty.” He kisses you through your orgasm, shaking his head when you trail your hand down to his crotch.
“Oh, you don’t want …?”
“Trust me, I’m more than good.” He pulls you up and giggles at your jello-state legs.
You’re a little confused why he didn’t want you to return the favor, but decided it was best to brush it off. He helps locate your clothing and guides you into your bathroom to clean up. You back against the locked door, hands coming up to touch your face. Hot. Look over to the mirror and exhale at the sight. The afterglow looks good on you. There’s a drop to your shoulders and light in your irises. You look enamored. It’s all too soon to say, especially after multiple kisses and this one intimate moment … though, your chest swells with hope. Hope for more with Jungkook.
In the time you spent freshening up, Jungkook pulled out a new router from his backpack he bought in secret earlier that day. Thirty minutes later, your connection and speed was infinitely better.
“Let me pay you back for the router,” you say as Jungkook puts on his shoes at the doorway. Jungkook stands up and tugs on the strap of his backpack.
“Nah. Just write off the push-ups for the rest of the season whenever I drop the toss,” he smiles cheekily.
“You wouldn’t have to do push-ups if you caught.” You scowl, “thank you again for the router. Saves me the trips to campus.” But it also meant you won’t have an excuse to study at Jungkook’s anymore.
Jungkook surprises you with a quick kiss on your cheek.“You’re always welcomed over whenever you want. G’night, Cap.”
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
Envy has a weird way of working.
You remember it best with your parents choosing to go to your sibling’s sports games or when everyone in colorguard got to their splits way before you did. Just like how you’re feeling now, seeing Jungkook smile and joke with one of the cheerleaders after practice. It’s uncharacteristic of you to feel this way. You’ve never cared this much when you’ve witnessed past partners conversing with other people.
You encouraged it. Felt secure.
This was different.
“Yo, that’s the girl that Jungkook’s been talking to? Chaewon?” Jaehyun says in passing to another tenor player.
“I think so. Why?”
You don’t listen to the rest of the conversation. Rushing out the band room, your mind jumps back to all the times he’s stopped moving forward beyond making you feel good. Was it because he was already seeing someone else? It could only make sense if he wanted to be safe about it. Good that he’s thoughtful for all parties involved. Bad because you thought he liked you enough to have it only be you.
You were right. It doesn’t hurt to prepare for hurt.
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
Jungkook [5:04 p.m.]: hey! u left super early today. did u get home safe?
Jungkook [8:31 p.m.]: ?? juice, u ok?
You [10:15 p.m.]: Yes, I’m home.
1 Missed call from Jungkook
You [10:16 p.m.]: Sorry, studying atm. I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.
This back and forth goes on for the rest of the week. Jungkook tries to talk to you after practice, but you always seem to slip away at the last moment. The one-on-one practices have stopped because the show was as clean as it could get and all Jungkook needed to work on was catching. He could do that on his own. You gave him all the tools he needed to succeed.
You’d like to think that whatever you shared with Jungkook was just a moment of indulgence. Helped you nurse your pride and feelings. If you kept telling yourself that things were okay and how it should be, you’ll eventually believe it. Much like how you’ve accepted that you’ll never see your parents at one of your shows, you'll realize these feelings for Jungkook were also fleeting. Because it starts to look that way once Jungkook starts to back off trying to talk to you.
You had other things to focus on. Cleaning up your section, schoolwork, and raising enough donations for the Rehearsathon. Of course you fall short of the goal. It’s not a big deal, but you hate to be the person who didn’t look like they tried at all, especially coming from a leadership role.
Regardless, you come into Rehearsathon ready for the brutal twelve hours. Practice lasted three hours at max, twelve was overkill. By the end of it all, you were exhausted. Sore and ready to go home for a much needed hot shower.
“Nice work, band. With the money raised, I think it’s safe to say we’ll be getting new uniforms by the end of the month. Just in time for the exhibition show.” Director Lee continues his recap, “also, shout out to our top fundraisers: Toad, Jungkook, and Juicebox.”
Huh? You barely raised a little over 50 bucks … 20 of which came from yourself cause you felt awful showing up with just 30. Did everyone else just do poorly?
Hoseok comes to you after everyone gets dismissed to pat you on the back. “Very impressive to get the cheer team to donate that much.” Cheer team? You’re lost. You didn’t know anyone on that team, let alone solicited them to donate. The only person you knew that had connections with the cheer team was none other than Jungkook. But … why would their sponsorship be under you?
It didn’t make sense.
“Jungkook.” You jog up to him.
“Sup?” He’s never greeted you like this before, but it’s probably deserved since you’ve been avoiding him. Doesn’t sting any less.
“My sponsors. You did that, didn’t you?”
He nods. “Yeah, I did.”
You shake your head, “you didn’t have to.”
“I know. I wanted to,” he shrugs.
You try to find the right words to say, but come short. You settle for a small ‘thank you.’ It’s all you can say before you turn the opposite direction.
He doesn’t stop you. Doesn’t question why you haven’t been returning his calls or text messages. Your silence was an answer in itself.
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
Jungkook’s tosses and catches were inconsistent. On his good days, he’s able to stick his catch. Mostly during rehearsal. But come the halftime shows? He’s dropping. You can tell he’s frustrated. No one likes feeling like they dragged down the quality of a show. Some liked to be left alone to process their mistakes; you assumed Jungkook was the type to need extra comfort. You work up the courage to go to him, but see that Jimin has beaten you. Probably for the better.
Jimin was great when it came to comforting others. In Jungkook’s case, it looked like Jimin was putting in the works. Has him miming a toss and doing a silly dance to show Jungkook how he tries to recover under a bad toss. Jungkook cracks a smile. Jimin transitions to his final move: back hug. You’ve also received those from Jimin before. It’s nice — not your preference after a rough show, but you appreciate the sentiment. Looks like Jungkook does too. Appears infinitely lighter.
The same cheerleader you saw a couple weeks ago, Chaewon, comes up to Jungkook too. Gives him a high five and a hug. And that was your cue to leave. You feel a little pathetic. All this because you don’t know what to do with your feelings for a boy.
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
Exhibition day.
Instruments loaded in the trailer, everyone was ready to hit the road. Whenever there was a far off site performance, Lee strung up his contacts to reserve fancy buses for the band. Yoongi theorizes it’s all for show to the prospective graduating high school seniors. He’s not complaining though. Far better to ride on some fancy buses than to coordinate carpool for over 200 band kids.
“Is your high school going to be there, Juicebox?” Yuri stuffs her equipment underneath the bus compartment.
“No,” you shake your head, “they’re in another circuit.”
“Lucky, my school is going to be there. So I need to impress my underclassmen.” She holds her hands into a fist. You chuckle, pull the straps of your backpack higher on your shoulder as you step onto the bus.
Colorguard preferred taking the back of the bus only cause it feels like you can do your hair and makeup in peace. Funnily enough, drumline also preferred the back too. Gives them space from the rest of the band when they drum together on the bus. Lucky for you, one of your girls secured the backseats. You volunteer to sit alone since there was an odd number of members in your section. If the drumline came to the back, you had a feeling Yoongi might swoop in to sit with you. He preferred a quieter seat partner despite having to lead some of the drumming sessions on the bus.
“Is it okay if I sit here?”
There’s no need to look up. Even if you haven’t spoken to him in a couple weeks, you’d recognize that voice anywhere.
“Go ahead.” Who were you to stop him?
Jungkook takes his seat, stuffs his bag underneath the seat in front of him, and places his drumsticks on his lap. He smells like coconut and shea butter — the same scent as the sunscreen you gifted him a while back. It’s sweet and warm — such a huge contrast to how you and Jungkook act towards each other now. Bitter and cold.
“Alright,” Director Lee announces from the bus intercom. “About a 45 minute drive to the location. No bathroom breaks. If you gotta go, hold it or piss in a cup.” A bunch of band kids grimace and fake a retch from the comment.
All you could think about is how you’ll be next to Jungkook for the next 45 minutes. The drummers get their rounds of drumming in, choosing to drum on the seats in front of them. You stare out the window, wishing for time to pass by quicker. His elbow brushes yours and time ceases to continue. Something lodges in your chest from the brief contact. You chastise your heart — so weak, so dumb, so fragile. Just because of a boy.
As Director Lee says, you’ve got to tighten up.
The drumming continues for another 20 minutes. Your section chatters behind you and Jungkook is turned to his own. Sometimes in a room full of people, or in this case … a bus, you still manage to find yourself feeling left out. You’ve got no one to blame but yourself.
Eventually, the bus arrives at a lot filled with other school buses.
“You guys have 15 minutes to unload and meet at the practice field for warm up.” Director Lee announces.
Row after row, people file out of the bus. When it was Jungkook’s turn to get up, he stays seated. He motions the folks behind him to go first, bending down to his backpack to get something. Everyone was now outside the bus … minus you and Jungkook.
He sighs. “How long are we going to keep doing this?” Jungkook leans back on his seat,
“Doing what?”
“Pretend like what we had didn’t happen.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” you stand up, one of your hands land on the seat in front to support yourself as you wait for Jungkook to move.
“Come on, Juice,” he pleads, “this is ridiculous.”
“I’m glad you agree,” your knee pushes at his leg to get to the aisle.
“Was it something I did?” Jungkook’s voice softens, “I would never do something you weren’t okay with …”
“Jungkook.” You look at the front of the bus. Thankfully, no one was there, “I was okay with everything we did, well—no, I mean,” you shift uncomfortably as you try to find the right words. He cocks his head to the side with furrowed brows.
You feel your resolve waver. There hasn’t been a second in the day where you don’t think about him. Week after week, you jump between feeling sad, betrayed, and embarrassed. He’d even pop up in your dreams to remind you that even when you weren’t awake, he’s still very much present in your subconscious. Perhaps talking to the source of your problems could help.
“We can talk about it after the show. There’s not enough time.” You were being honest. Know that everyone is on crunch time now that you’ve all reached the performance site.
“Okay.” He’d have no other choice but to accept. He gets up and moves to the side. You push away that bitter feeling in your chest. It’s show day. Jungkook eventually emerges out the bus a couple minutes after you do.
“You okay, JB?” Yoongi hauls his drum from the trailer and moves out of the way for the other members to get their instruments.
“Yeah,” you lie, “just pre-show nerves.”
Yoongi doesn’t buy it. Realized you and Jungkook were the last ones to get off the bus. Felt the shift between the two of you these couple of weeks. He also notices how Jungkook looks over at you. Something must’ve happened, but he’s not going to push for answers right before a show.
“Kids these days …” he murmurs to himself.
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
High school marching band competitions were overstimulating. Overfilled bathroom stalls, different music playing, and the scent of kettle corn … makes you nostalgic. The rush of being on a field again. Other good, if not better, colorguard you’d meet from all over the country. The award ceremony. The comradery. Maybe you have one more season left in you to do drum corps in the summer.
For now, you’re lined up at the front of the main field. Everyone is all warmed up and ready to perform.
Showtime. Director Lee takes over the stadium microphone to introduce the marching band and Hoseok signals everyone to march down the field into position. The show goes smoothly. During the performance, the audience erupts with cheers at every musical feature and toss. Jungkook catches. The band was an absolute hit.
“Oh my god, we rocked out there!” Jimin drops the handful of equipment he picked up on the field. Everyone gives each other high fives and pats on the back.
“I second that,” Director Lee comes around with his megaphone. “Nice work, band. We have an hour to reload. Do as you like till it’s call time.”
Equipment and instruments loaded up, you and another guard member walk to the concession stands for some kettle corn. While waiting in line, she gets pulled away by some old classmates from high school. Honestly, you didn’t even want kettle corn, but you weren’t ready to face Jungkook just yet. In the midst of your thoughts, someone calls your name. You freeze.
“I thought I recognized you from the stands. Long time no see.”
A voice and face you long to forget: Wooyoung. Your high school ex.
You step back, unsure how to avoid this interaction. He smiles. To any other person, it’d come off as friendly. To you? Slimy. Icky. You feel more cornered when he opens his arms for a hug. When you don’t lean into it, he pulls you in for one.
“You were great out there. Improved a lot since your freshman year.” He places his hand on your shoulder.
“Thanks,” you reply. Your gaze locked on the object in front of you. A badge that read: YBHS Asst. Band Director.
He notices your stare. “Yeah, I never really left the marching band scene post college. Just kept calling my name.” You don’t like the way he scans your body. The corners of his lips fight to stay neutral. Part of you feels sad for your younger self — didn’t know better than to mistake his lust for interest and adoration.
“Say, if you’re free after the competition, we should get some drinks together and catch up. The school I’m teaching is looking for a dance tech—”
“No, I’m not looking to teach.” You immediately decline. Getting paid to do what you loved sounded tempting, but why subject yourself to torture being employed by the same man that fucked you over? “Thanks for the offer, but I need to go back with the band.” You step back.
Ignoring your decline, Wooyoung tries again. “We should catch up though. I don’t mind taking you back if you’re worried about a ride home.”
“No thank y-”
“Juice.” You’ve never been more relieved to hear someone call you by that nickname.
Jungkook stands beside you. Saw you looking uncomfortable from afar and it was instinctive to come over despite whatever was going on between you two. By no means was he a confrontational or violent person, but he’s protective of those he cares about. And he cares deeply about you. No doubt about that.
“Lee said he needed us back at the bus.” There’s plenty of time left, but you’re thankful for an opening to leave.
“Sorry, I’ve gotta go.”
“Aw, can’t spare a couple more minutes for an old friend?” Be it his ego or his inability to read the room, Wooyoung doesn’t back down. This doesn’t surprise you. What surprised you was Jungkook’s hand wrapped around yours. Possessive. Alert.
“Come on, we’re gonna be late,” Jungkook says.
“Oh? Boyfriend?” Wooyoung eyes your interlocked hands.
“Uh-”
“Yep,” the lie rolls off his tongue effortlessly. You nearly believe it too, “and you are …?”
“Wooyoung. I teach at one of the high schools in this circuit,” he chuckles, “I’m assuming you both march at the same university?”
“We do.” Jungkook answers on your behalf again.
“Cute. Well, I won’t keep you two,” Wooyoung turns to you. “It was nice seeing you again. Hit me up on Facebook if you’re interested in the tech position or if you just want to catch up.”
Before you know it, you and Jungkook are headed back to the direction of the bus. He's still holding your hand, weaving both of you through the crowds.
“Jungkook,” you say, nearly tripping over your steps to meet his long strides. He lets go of your hand and faces you.
“Was that your ex?”
Your silence confirms the answer.
“Why’d you let him walk all over you like that?”
“I was fine.”
“You were clearly uncomfortable. Had I not stepped in-”
“I didn’t ask for your help, Jungkook.”
“You didn’t,” he steps back, “and I know that. I just … I wanted to.”
“Why?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I care about you ... we’re friends.”
But friends don’t look at each other like the way Jungkook does with you. A friend’s touch doesn’t make you yearn for more. It doesn’t hurt when they call you a friend.
“We’re not friends.” Guilt seeps through you the moment those words leave your lips. Jungkook runs his hand down his face and exhales a small humorless laugh. It comes out mocking with a hint of bitterness.
“But Wooyoung is?”
That hits a sore spot. He realizes his mistake when your face falls. “Juice,” his voice softens, “I didn’t mean it like that-”
“Just like how you’re friends with Chaewon?”
He pauses. Confusion plastered on his face. Your shoulder bumps into his arm as you walk past him and towards the bus. It takes less than a second for him to catch up to you. Calls your name. Gets ignored.
“What’s that supposed to mean? What does Chaewon have to do with any of this?” With some band members lining up to board the buses, Jungkook’s voice was loud enough to catch their attention. The last thing you want is people speculating.
“Can we do this another time?” You say through gritted teeth.
Another time? He’s been waiting to talk to you, but you keep blowing him off. He doesn’t know when he’ll be granted this opportunity again, let alone whether you’ll keep your words. But you look uncomfortable and as much as he’d like to air out his grievances, he holds himself back from making a bigger scene.
He sighs in resolve and lets you queue in line for the bus. In the bus, you expected Jungkook to sit right next to you. Gets surprised when Yoongi plops down next to you. You scan the area and realize Jungkook is a couple rows in front. He doesn’t look back at you. Doesn’t come back for his belongings underneath the seat.
“Whatever is going on between you and Jungkook needs to be fixed. You’re better than this.” He sighs.
Yoongi was never one to lecture you. Not because he doesn’t feel like he can’t, but because you’ve always had your shit together. Haven’t seen you act like this before. So … juvenile, immature, and unreasonable. Perhaps he was wrong to think that things would work between you and Jungkook. The bus ride back to the campus was quiet. Going home always felt like a shorter ride in comparison to going to the performance site. Wished it took longer.
The bus comes to a full stop at the front of the school and everyone immediately gets out row by row. Yoongi gets up once it’s your row’s turn. “Wait, Yoongi,” you point at Jungkook’s bag at the bottom of the seat.
“You can give it to him, JB.” It’s not a demand, merely a matter of fact. You don’t argue back. Percussion is typically last to unload all their instruments back into the band room, so you’re stuck waiting for Jungkook till he’s done.
One by one, your colorguard members leave to go home, bidding you farewell. They don’t question why you’re staying behind, just assume that you have some business you have to see through with the director or other section leaders. It’s late and they just want to be in bed. So do you. But you wait, because it’s what you should do. You owe this to Jungkook at the very least.
Thirty minutes go by and Jungkook finally emerges from the band room. He smiles and waves goodbye to his section. When he sees you with his bag, his expression morphs into something close to disbelief. Walks up to you quickly and takes it out of your hand.
“Could’ve told Yoongi to give it to me,” he frowns.
“Trust me, I tried,” you sigh, “but I promised we would talk.”
His lips presses into a thin line. It’s late, but if the talk doesn’t happen now, he doesn’t know when it will.
“Did you want to talk at the dorms?” He asks.
You internally debate whether it was a good idea to be in an enclosed area with Jungkook. Sure, it offered some privacy, but you felt more exposed. More vulnerable. Limits your likelihood of running away. Doesn’t take you long to make a decision, opting to talk at his dorm after a cold breeze passes through. It’s been a couple of weeks since you’ve been there. You wonder if anything has changed. Yet, you’re greeted by the same blue bedsheets, detergent, and all too clean of a desk space. Nothing’s changed, except for the two people in there.
Jungkook sits on the floor and you follow. You clear your throat, unable to make eye contact with Jungkook now that you’re in front of him. No more avoiding the inevitable.
“What’s been going on?” He asks carefully. “Talk to me, please?”
You chew on your bottom lip, unsure of where to start.
“Was it something I did?” He asks again.
Another moment of silence ensues. “Juice-”
“We shouldn’t have done what we did.” You’re sure this was the right thing to say, but it doesn’t hurt any less.
“What do you mean?” His voice comes out small.
“I shouldn’t have entertained any of that. It wasn’t right.” That really drove it home. Nail on the coffin. Stings more when you look up and see the hurt plastered on Jungkook’s face.
Yoongi told you to fix things, but it seems impossible when you’re only capable of making things worse. Especially with how he closes his eyes and looks away. You’ve prepped your heart for this moment. Though, this is Jungkook. The boy who willingly volunteered to step into a position no one else would, the boy who’s been vying for your attention and got it, the boy with a smile so warm that you think you’d have trouble forgetting even across multiple universes.
That’s what scares you. Whatever he says next will hurt.
“Do you regret it?” Jungkook asks with downcast eyes. You rest your face into your palm. It’s a yes or no question deserving of a yes and no answer. For that, you couldn’t answer right away.
“I didn’t. Not once.” He answers truthfully, “but if you regret it, I really am sorry.” Jungkook looks at you with those round, apologetic eyes.
You almost cave. Almost.
“I just … thought we had something special. I was wrong to assume.” He says.
You did have something special with Jungkook. He wasn’t wrong.
Jungkook continues, “I hope we can remain friends, but I get it if you don’t want to.”
Friends. This irked you.
“Is that what you say to people you’ve slept with?”
“What?” He retracts his head back in confusion. “Where’s this coming from?”
There’s no going back now.
“Chaewon.” You straighten up from your seated position, “there’s also something special between you two, right?”
You sound bitter. You hate it. Hate how he looks … so exposed. So incriminating.
Jungkook quickly shakes his head.
“You wouldn’t let me touch you. Was it because you were still sleeping with her?”
“No! I—”
“—It’s fine if you were. We weren’t anything,” wrong, he was something to you, still is, “but—”
“It’s not like that,” he interrupts, but you press on, fully on autopilot now.
“—I’m not someone’s backup, I don’t do casual. The least you could’ve done was tell me. If you had any respe—”
The words die on your tongue when Jungkook says your name. Your actual name. You don’t realize how heavy you’re breathing. And Jungkook? Upset is an understatement.
“I did have something with Chaewon,” he begins.
You scoff.
“In our first-year. Things ended because … well, I caught feelings,” he admits with a hint of shame, “I don’t do casual either. I just didn’t realize she did.”
Oh.
“But you’re still …?”
He shakes his head no. “We’re not like that anymore, I swear.”
“Doesn’t explain why you wouldn’t let me touch you,” you murmur, head turned away in embarrassment.
Jungkook frowns. “It’s not that I don’t want you to. Intimacy just kinda fucks with my head and heart … after what happened with Chaewon, I just …” His voice trails, “I didn’t want to rush and mess things up with someone I care about. Seems like it still happened anyway.” Jungkook scoots closer, knees now touching yours. “Is that what this is about?”
Jungkook cocks his head to meet your eyes, but you keep your head turned away. “Hey, come on. Look at me.”
And when you finally do look at him, you’re met with light and warmth — something you don’t know if you deserve after all the mess your mind created. He hesitates, but trails his fingers against yours. Testing the waters. Jungkook takes it as a sign to hold your hand when you don’t retract. Even with his calloused hands from years of drumming, you feel the tenderness in his touch.
“I never intended to hurt you or make you feel bad,” his voice laced with sincerity, “I’m sorry.”
Jungkook was right. Intimacy does fuck with your head and heart. Made you think irrationally, abandoning all logic for the sake of protecting your heart and pride. Ridiculous that he’s the one apologizing.
“No,” you shake your head. “I should’ve come to you about it. I’m sorry.” Your eyes water at the admittance.
“Aw, hey, don’t cry …” Jungkook cups your cheek with his other hand.
You sniffle, quickly blinking away the tears because you’re stubborn — not a fan of people witnessing you cry. Instead, you press your cheek into his palm. Missed his touch — missed him.
It’s a little uncoordinated how he pulls you onto his lap, but when you’re seated on him and your head is resting in the crook of his neck, it feels like coming home. There’s a specific scent that clings onto his skin after a long day of being under the sun — slight musk mixed with sunscreen and his cologne. Familiar and comforting. You wonder if he’s just as attached to your scent as you are with his.
“You still haven’t answered my question though …” he swallows, “do you regret it?”
“No,” you shake your head, voice coming out small, “never regretted anything we’ve done.”
“Do you … regret us?” He asks.
You shake your head again. You know you said some hurtful things a while ago. Wish you could take it all back. Can’t seem to muster the courage to tell Jungkook that he’s been the best thing that’s happened to you all season, but you try in your own way.
Torso turned awkwardly and arms sewn around his neck, you hold him. It takes a second for Jungkook to react, body tense and unsure if he’s allowed to embrace you. You exhale, something akin to relief, and he feels it too. Jungkook holds you just as tightly. Tucks himself into your neck and kisses into your hair. Whispers how much he’s missed you and jokes about how foolish you both are — just two enamored fools.
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
The day after that night, Jungkook unfollowed Chaewon on all his social media platforms, not before sending a quick message how he no longer wanted to stay friends. You hope it wasn’t because of you. Sure, you had your moments of insecurity about Jungkook and Chaewon and don’t know exactly what transpired between them, but you thought it was a bit excessive to cut someone off cold turkey. But Jungkook had his reasons … reasons for which he’s not ready to talk about just yet. You trusted him and you’ll wait. If he thought this was for the better, you’ll stand by his decision.
The season was nearly over. You’re also over at Jungkook’s a lot, vice versa — made his room a second home. He reserves a section of his nightstand just for your bobby pins and hair ties … no different from your desk chair with a pile of his sleep shirts.
It’s the evening after an ensemble practice and he’s laid between your legs, bare back against your torso. Nothing sexual, just appreciating your company while he drums a random beat on his chest. The warmth of his body feels good on yours, like a heated and weighted blanket all at once. You mindlessly run your fingers in his hair, occasionally earning a shudder from Jungkook if your nails made contact with his scalp.
“Next week’s our last show,” he mutters.
From your position, you notice Jungkook’s pout. Your hand comes to a stop. “You sad?”
“A little. Season’s been tough, wanna end it on a good note.”
Part of you wonders if he was talking about the show or his time with you. Both could be true.
“You will,” you wrap your arms around his shoulders and give him a reassuring squeeze, “is your family going to be there?”
Jungkook smiles fondly. “Yeah, they are.”
“Good. That’ll be enough incentive for you to catch this time,” you tease.
“Yah,” he turns, chin propped at your sternum, “I don’t need incentives to do well.”
“Really?” You tilt your head. “That’s not what you said before practice today. ‘One kiss, please? I swear I’ll stick the catch.’” You do your best pleading eyes, but nothing can beat the real deal.
His eyes narrow, lips curving into a playful smile. “You got me.”
Jungkook lays his cheek down on your chest, hesitates with his next words. “How about you though? Is your family going to be there?” He knows family is an uncomfortable topic for you. Hell, talking about hard topics in general was difficult. These days, you’re doing better at communicating your feelings. Jungkook makes it easy — makes the uncomfortable feel comfortable.
“Didn’t invite them, so probably not,” you shrug.
“Wouldn’t it be nice to have them there?”
“Maybe …”
Jungkook thinks you’re so pretty when you’re in deep thought. Brows furrowed, lips pressed together in a thin line. There’s that dimple on the right side of your cheek that only appears when you do that. He’s sure you’re not even aware of its existence. Always been so captivated by you. Built this version of you in his head all these years and you’ve shattered every one of his assumptions in just one season. He's gotten to know different sides of you — like when you’re assertive, insecure, caring, angry, sweet … just, you.
“But I don’t need incentives, unlike someone I know.” You smirk.
He likes to entertain all your sides, but this was his favorite — the side that likes to tease. His body shifts, so does yours as you sink your head deeper into his pillow.
“I think you’re getting it mixed up, Cap,” Jungkook hovers over your body, nose touching yours, “incentives make me work harder knowing there’s something to look forward to. As much as I love performing for a big audience,” his lips brushes the corner of your mouth, “it’s more special when there’s someone you know watching.”
“Right?” His breath fans over your lips.
You’re not arguing with a man whose eyes competed with stars. Instead, choosing to accept his words because he’s right … just on this occasion. Because all you want is for him to press his lips to yours.
And Jungkook does that.
Drives him crazy when you get all breathless and whiny against his lips. True to his words, he’s been good with taking it slow with you. Sticks to kissing for now because he fears that he won’t be able to get himself out of the deep end if he reaches to that point of intimacy. Took forever with Chaewon, so he doesn’t know how he’ll fare with you … someone he really likes.
But fuck, you make it hard — make him hard. You gasp and pull away slightly when he accidentally grinds himself against your core. Jungkook shudders and mumbles his apologies, lips finding yours again.
You shake your head. “‘s okay,” you kiss his cheek, “you good?”
“Trying to be,” he swallows and chuckles.
“You don’t have to try to be,” you peer at him through your lashes, “you are good.”
You make the uncomfortable feel comfortable too. Kisses you again tenderly and lets his body relax momentarily.
“Can I be honest with you?”
You nod. “Always.”
“When we had that fall out … it was after we got intimate. I’m worried about that happening again.”
“Oh, Kook,” your stomach sinks at the confession.
“I don’t wanna feel that way with you,” one of his hands cup your cheek, “I trust you.”
“I trust you too. We don’t have to rush into sex to prove anything.” You turn your head to kiss his palm.
He knows. But he wants this badly — wants you. His hard length pressed against you is enough proof. Sensing his turmoil, you push yourself up, making him sit back on his heels.
One of your hands holds his. “You trust me, yeah?”
Jungkook nods, eyes sincere and honest. You lay your back against his headboard, legs spread wide enough to accommodate another person in between. No brainer, a perfect spot for Jungkook.
“Turn around and lay down,” you pat your chest.
Jungkook does just that, no questions asked. He’s right back where he started this evening: between your legs. Except now, there’s a light wave of anticipation floating in the air.
“What do you have in mind?” His voice drops an octave lower.
“Shh,” you hand cups his chin so that your lips could meet his temple. “I got you.” Truthfully, you didn’t know what you were doing. You only wanted to make him feel good, just as he’s done for you.
“You’re always helping others. So attentive,” one of your hands trails down his abdomen, “so good.”
At your praise, Jungkook sinks his teeth down on his lips.
“Think you deserve to be rewarded for that. Don’t you?” You ask. His hand wraps around your wrist, unsure whether to have you continue or stop.
“Wanna make you feel good,” your hand stops just shy of his belly button, thumb rubbing against his skin, “please?”
He releases a little moan, cock twitching in his shorts. You run your hand between his legs, gentle in the way you let yourself trace over his cloth length. Jungkook tips his head back for a second and immediately looks back down again, afraid he might miss out on what’s yet to come.
“God,” he keens, stomach tightening with every fleeting touch.
“Do you want me to stop?” You whisper into his ear. Simple question calls for a simple answer. Jungkook presents his answer in the form of a tilt to his head, whispering a silent plea for you to kiss and continue touching him.
The angle of the kiss is a bit off, gets Jungkook a little giggly, but he quiets down the moment your fingers fumble at the waistband of his shorts. His chest stutters, both hands coming down to help you pull the front of his shorts to expose his hard cock.
Jungkook’s size was always a dead giveaway. Thank god for his obsession with grey sweats. You didn’t think he was this big. Arousal pools between your legs. Wonder if it’d stroke his ego knowing your mind was filled with images of how he’d stretch you out, sink inside you, and fuck you to the hilt.
But nevermind that. This was about him and making him feel good.
Jungkook lets out a needy moan when your hand wraps around his cock. You give it a tiny squeeze and hum at the sight of his precum leaking from his slit. You let go all too soon, and just as he was about to accuse you of teasing him, he hears you spit into your hand.
“Baby ...” His chest heaves when you run your wet hand down his shaft again.
Jungkook was right. It is more special when there’s someone you know watching. Inspires you to perform. To make him feel good. To ignite a reaction, letting you know he enjoys what you’re doing.
He lets you have your way with his body. Pants and shivers when your other hand plays with his nipple. Doesn’t know where to fucking focus because you’re everywhere all at once and he loves every moment of it.
“Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum,” His eyes lock at the sight before him: your pretty hand wrapped around his hard length covered in both spit and precum.
“Yeah? Go on,” you coax, “you deserve it.” You understand what he means by incentives. Because it motivates you to work harder to draw out his moans, stroke faster then randomly slow down to tease him, and purr sweet nothings into his ears. Makes you fight the arm cramp just to see his eyes flutter shut. Makes you ignore the pleasure pangs hitting your own core just so you can witness his orgasm. Because you want to so badly make him feel good.
“That’s it, so close,” you encourage.
“C-cumming,” Jungkook pants, he digs his head back into your shoulders, “I’m cumming.” You watch the thick ropes of cum paint his torso. Jungkook’s body shakes and withers from pleasure. You let go of his cock and you trail your fingers up his stomach to collect his cum.
He watches with bated breath as you stick your tongue out for an experimental lick. A bit heady for your liking, but who eats cum for the sake of taste? This is all for Jungkook. His fucked out expression was enough reason for you to push your cum coated fingers into your mouth and suck them clean.
“Oh my god,” he groans, turning around to pin you down on his mattress. “You’re so hot.” Doesn’t think twice when he slots his lips to yours, moans muffled at the taste of him on your tongue.
“Made me feel so good,” another peck to seal the deal. “Thank you.” Post nut clarity usually made people run for the hills. Jungkook? Basks in your company and affection. Trusts you with his body and so he naturally trusts you with his heart.
He hopes it’s the same for you.
Words aren’t needed to express how you feel for Jungkook. It’s evident in how your expressions change the more you kiss. How your nose feels against his cheek when you nod for him to touch you. How it doesn’t take long for you to fall apart from his fingers.
Jeon Jungkook knows it’s the same for you.
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
Last game of the season also meant the last performance of the season. You’re warming up with your guard. Nothing too serious since you don’t like to be tired out before a performance.
“Hey, Cap?” Jimin says mid stretch. “There are a couple of folks behind that keep staring in our direction. You know them?”
It’s a sight you weren’t expecting. Your family. Your parents and brother. Not like you don’t see them often. You call home sometimes. Visits happened towards the end of the semester, so you’d never expect to see them on campus mid-semester… especially your own.
You jog over to them.
“Hey, what are you guys doing here?” You ask breathlessly.
“To see you perform, duh.” Your brother rolls his eyes.
“Uh … but this is-”
“One of your classmates messaged me on Facebook a day ago telling me it’s a very special performance. Honestly, I wished I got the invite from my daughter, but here we are,” your mother exasperates, foot tapping on the ground.
Sensing a bit of awkwardness, your father adds, “we just wanted to say hi and good luck, honey. We’ll be in the stands.” He points in the direction of the stadium.
“Oh, okay, um, thank you. I’ll see you all later?” You walk back to your section, confused, but there was something else. Excitement? Disbelief? Maybe all of the above.
“You okay?” Jimin asks while gathering his equipment.
You look over to where Jungkook was warming up with drumline. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.”
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
Director Lee is a man of traditions and rituals. Doesn’t like splitting poles because he thinks it’s bad luck. He also made it a tradition to announce every fourth year’s name to the stadium as the band file to their spot for the last performance of the season. Think of it as an informal send off. Gets the entire band a little emotional before the show.
You feel a lot. The nearly filled stands. Your family in those very stands. Jungkook. The fourth-years. All the practices, mistakes, and injuries led you up to this moment.
Hoseok salutes to the audience and the stadium quiets down when he turns back to the band. Even from far away, you can feel his presence. It’s commanding, ready to lead.
And that’s what Hoseok does. Everything blurs when the music starts. It’s all muscle memory. The cheers for the flag and music features fuels the entire band to perfection.
Despite your confusion about your family, they’re here, watching you.
The stadium erupts in cheers at the end of the performance. You’re the first to break formation to hug your guard members. You remain smiling as you walk off the field, eyes catching a glimpse of Jungkook’s mother waving at him. Your eyes scan for your family. When you finally spot them, they’re all seated and clapping. Your mother’s approving nod doesn’t go unnoticed. There’s a stark difference to the support Jungkook receives from his family.
As imperfect as your family’s affection and support may be, it fills your heart with a type of warmth you’ve yet to experience till now.
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
Director Lee’s traditions spanned to post-performance pizza following the senior plaques he’d hand out. New section leaders were also selected. Director Lee knew at a glance who had leadership potential, but he’s always watching throughout the season in preparation for his departing section leaders.
Jungkook only ever cared about the pizza. Not that he never saw himself as a leader, but he knew there was always someone better fit for the job. This year? Screw the pizza. Screw the new leader. Okay, well, no, he hopes they’re a good pick. At the moment, that’s the least of his concerns.
“So like … are you gonna eat that?” Jimin eyes the untouched pizza on Jungkook’s plate. Jungkook wordlessly passes his plate over to Jimin, far too immersed in the conversation you were having with Yoongi a couple feet away.
He knows he overstepped by sending that message to your mother. Should’ve respected your decisions … or lack thereof.
You walk toward the front door, look over in his direction, and give him a subtle nod. Doesn’t need to be told twice — Jungkook springs up on his feet and adjusts his bibber.
“Where ya goin’?” Jimin asks Jungkook with a mouthful.
“Bathroom,” Jungkook replies quickly.
“Well, hurry up. Lee is doing awards and section leader announcements soon.”
“Right. Yeah. Okay,” he answers distractedly, too focused on the direction you’re headed in.
Jungkook was on a mission. He got his apology rehearsed in his head. Follows closely behind you as you head up the stairs to the storage room. Honestly? Wouldn’t have been his first choice to chat here. For one, creepy. Two, dusty as hell. But he’ll go where you go.
When the door shuts behind him, you turn on your heel to face him. Even with the dim lighting, Jungkook still finds your glittery show makeup beautiful — you’re beautiful. Crushes his soul a little bit when you frown … he’s ready for a round of scolding, so he’ll try to beat you to it.
“I know what I did was out of line. I just th—mmph-” The apology he rehearsed for the past hour dies on his lips as you pull him down for a searing kiss. Your hands untangle from the straps of his bibber to wrap around his neck.
“You’re so annoying,” you say in between kisses. Your words don’t exactly match your actions. You bite down on his lower lip, enough pressure to draw out a tiny hiss turned moan. Jungkook backs you against the wall and knocks over a couple of boxes with flag silks. He’s quick to remedy it with promises to clean it up in favor of kissing you.
The storage room was a bit stuffy … probably loaded with a bunch of asbestos, but it just might be Jungkook’s favorite place at the moment. Just when he thinks all is well and forgiven, you pull away with a glare.
“Don't think you’re off the hook.”
“Wait, huh?”
“JB! You in here?” Yoongi calls from below.
Yoongi makes his way up the stairs, steps slow and sluggish. You can’t tell if it’s due to his lack of energy or if he’s giving himself enough time to not walk into something he doesn’t want to see. Regardless, it buys you some time. You and Jungkook have never moved so fast. Him, hiding behind a rack of retired uniforms. You, inconspicuously folding the discarded flag silks on the ground.
“Yep, in here!” You peek your head to the side to see Yoongi lean at the railing.
“Lee wants everyone in the band room. Doing announcements soon.”
“Okay, I’ll be there soon.”
Yoongi stands in place for a moment, snorts before he makes his way downstairs again.
“Need you there too, Kook.” Yoongi says, loud enough for you both to hear. Your head snaps in Jungkook’s direction and you can’t bring yourself to stay angry at the view: his fluffy hair and beat up converse high tops on full display.
“Whoops,” Jungkook emerges from the racks with a boxy smile.
“Come on, let’s go back.” You say, swiping away the red tint off his lips. Preen him a little. Not trying to hide anything, but you wanted to look presentable for announcements — it’ll be an important one.
“Shouldn’t we address the elephant in the room?” He nervously chews on his lips.
You shake your head and hold out your hand. “It can wait. I have dinner plans with my family later … meet me at my place afterwards?”
“Okay … but like, are we good?”
“Maybe.” You shrug and purse your lips.
Maybe? No, that won’t fly by with Jungkook. Thought you guys were past this whole miscommunication stage of your guys’ relationship. He needs that extra reassurance. Figured he won’t get that till after your family dinner … doesn’t stop him from playing out the possible scenarios in his head as Director Lee goes through his announcements.
People are clapping on and off. Again, doesn’t matter to him.
“Jungkook? Hellooooo?” Yoongi waves his hand in front of him.
“Huh, wha … sorry, what’d I miss?” Jungkook shakes himself out of his trance.
“Welcome back to earth, Space Cadet.” Director Lee huffs. A bunch of band members snickers from the comment, his section included.
“You’re the new percussion section leader, Space Cadet.” Yoongi grins.
He should be celebrating. It’s a feat and honor to become a section leader. He knows nothing about it, but he’s got great role models, so he’s got a good foundation and baseline for what a good leader should look like. Only issue? Jungkook thought he’d been lucky to evade the nickname curse. Now he’s stuck with one … and a not so great one at that.
He looks for you in the room. Spots you instantly and you throw a tiny thumbs up and a teasing smile in his direction.
You mouth: Congrats, Spacey.
Maybe the new nickname isn’t so bad after all.
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
Dinner with your family was okay. There wasn’t much to chat about other than your father asking if you are continuing ‘this’ after graduating.
“We’re just wondering. Eventually you’ll have to put work first,” your mother reasons. “Your body won’t be able to keep up as you age.”
You know it’s said with care and concern, but you can’t help but feel like you’re being lectured for doing something unconventional. God forbid you be happy with activities outside of a typical 9 to 5. The conversation moves over to your brother and what he’s been doing. You’re thankful the attention is off you for now. You’d much rather be home with a particular drummer anyway.
You [8:39 p.m.]: I’ll be home in about 30 mins.
Jungkook 🥁 [8:39 p.m.]: ok, be safe. see u later ❤️
You smile down at your phone. Yes, you were still upset and made it a known fact to Jungkook. Hated seeing him confused, but that’s life. He'll have to sit with the consequences of his actions.
Kind of like how you have to sit through this dinner.
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
Jungkook arrives at your doorstep about four minutes after you get home. In his hands were a dozen of sunflowers he picked up after Director Lee dismissed the band. Thought it would help his case a little. It does. You accept them with a smile and step to the side to let him in.
“Pretty,” he compliments. You look down at the simple sundress you put on for dinner. Realize Jungkook has only seen you in t-shirts and athletic wear. Though, you could be in a potato sack and he’d still find you lovely.
“Thank you.”
He follows you to your couch. Usually he likes to sit right next to you, but thinks space is what you’d prefer for this type of conversation. He had plenty of time to reevaluate his actions in the shower and even more time while he waited for your text to come over.
“I truly am sorry. I shouldn’t have gone behind your back. Just thought they should come out and support you.”
You sigh and place the flowers on your coffee table.
“How’d you even find my mother?” You ask.
“Um, it wasn’t that hard to sift through your friends list. Plus, there’s not a lot of middle aged women that you look like. Could’ve passed as your older sister, honestly.”
“Funny,” you smile, “she’d love to hear that.”
“Score.” Jungkook grins.
You mindlessly play with the fringes on your dress, unsure what to say next.
Jungkook reads you perfectly as always. “What’s up? You okay?”
“Just have a lot on my mind.” You fold your hands in your lap.
“I get it,” he nods.
“I don’t think you do.” You pause, chewing on your lips before you continue. “The show, offering me a place to study, the sponsors, Wooyoung, and now my family …” you recount, “you keep doing these things for me.”
Jungkook frowns, “do you not want me to?”
You shake your head. “It’s not that I don’t want you to. I’m just not used to it.” You’re not used to being taken care of nor understood. It’s always been like this. With your family, friends, even some of the folks you’ve marched with in the past. But in the time you’ve gotten to know Jungkook, that’s all he’s given you.
Feels like he knows what you need better than you do sometimes. Feels like he does things out of care and not obligation.
It’s not a feeling anymore when he pulls you onto his lap, resting his chin on top of your head.
“I know you’re capable of doing everything and more, Juice. But unless you don’t want me to, I’ll always want to help you,” he says.
You nod, fingers playing with the ends of his shirt. “I know, and I appreciate that. It’s just hard letting go,” you shrug.
“Of what?”
“Control?”
He chuckles, “you don’t say, Cap.”
You roll your eyes, “you’re a section leader now too.”
“Ah, that, I am,” he agrees, “means we’ll be working together more. You gonna give me a hard time?”
“Ask Yoongi.”
Jungkook laughs and holds you closer. He clears his throat, “need to make sure, though … am I forgiven?”
“Wasn’t that upset, Kook.” If you were truly mad at Jungkook, you wouldn’t have kissed him back in the storage room. “But yes, you’re forgiven. No more messaging my mother on Facebook though. She thought you were a bot for some reason.”
“Huh? I don’t know why she’d think that …” Jungkook pulls out his phone to show you the message thread.
The first line read: To Whom It May Concern …
“This screams scam, Kook.” You snicker, skimming through the well-thought out message. Punctuated perfectly and straight to the point. What a stark difference to the silly text messages you receive from him on the daily. Could barely tell it’s him. The only glaring similarity? Jungkook doesn’t sugarcoat his intentions — never when it comes to you.
Jungkook pouts, “they still came to the show …”
“Yeah, they did,” your eyes soften, handing his phone back to him, “made me really happy seeing my family there.” You tuck his hair behind his ear.
“You deserve to be.”
And you also find happiness in when you press your lips against his. Happiness in when he giggles, nose scrunched and all. Happiness in when he moans as you roll your hips over him.
Jungkook pulls away to trail kisses down your cheek and neck. “You said you’re worried about letting go of control … we can work on that.”
You whimper at a particularly harsher suck, “how?”
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
You’ve always preferred being in the mentor role. There’s no ambiguity in teaching someone what you already know. Never have to anticipate the unknown.
You find yourself sitting on the edge of your bed, watching Jungkook take off his shirt. So ready to welcome the unknown. It comes to you in the form of Jungkook’s sunkissed body and hooded eyes. He’s well-loved by his friends and family. Only natural to be well-loved by the sun as well. The sun will spend eternity chasing Jungkook and it’ll never come close to seeing all that you will in this lifetime.
“You trust me, yeah?” He walks up to you, legs bumping into your knees. Jungkook cups your cheek and tilts your head up to look at him. Needs to see you.
“‘Course, I do.” You smile.
“Good,” he steps back, “turn around for me.”
You wordlessly get on your hands and knees, chin turned at your shoulder to look at Jungkook, “like this?”
“Just like that,” he praises, gaze dropping at your ass where your dress falls perfectly around your hips.
One of his hands trails up your back and gently pushes you down. Your forearms cushion your drop, not that you needed it. You’re pliant for Jungkook.
You hear him shuffle behind you, both his hands are at your hips as he leans into down to kiss your shoulder. One of his hands goes under the skirt of your dress, knuckles grazing your inner thigh as if he’s asking permission to do more. You turn your head to the side with a visible pout.
“Are you going to be edging me or something?”
Jungkook snickers. “What? You want me to?”
So it appears edging wasn’t his goal.
His hand cups your sex, middle finger trailing up and down your clothed slit. “You’re soaked through, baby,” Jungkook murmurs, “‘s cause you were thinking about getting edged?”
You shake your head no. “Can’t help it,” your fingers grip your sheets as his fingers move a little quicker. “You got me like this.”
Jungkook groans at your confession. “I did, didn’t I?”
He reluctantly lifts himself up and away from you. Almost regrets it when he sees your brows furrow in disappointment. Makes a mental note to make it up to you one way or another. Season’s over, but Jungkook has all the time in the world with you. He pushes your dress up and over your ass. Feels his cock stiffen in his pants at the sight of your beige colored panties. He always had a thing for your ass. Shamelessly looked at it in the past whenever you were busy stretching. Proud to know that this view belonged to him and only him. He lets his gaze linger at the sight of the dark wet patch at the center of your panties.
Yeah, he got you like this.
“You still with me, Spacey?” you tease when you notice him staring at you longer than anticipated.
He shakes himself out of stupor. “You’re lucky I like you.” His knuckle trails up and down your slit. Got you shuddering again.
“What do you want me to call you then?” You ask.
Jungkook feigns deep thought, humming as he throws out random nicknames.
“Baby?” He pulls your panties down your thighs.
“Honey?” You giggle as he taps your knees to fully remove your underwear.
“Boyfriend?” He parts your ass, lets a dribble of spit trail down the center and to your cunt. Your hole clenches around nothing.
“You liked that one?” Jungkook asks, spitting directly at your hole this time. “Hm?” Trails kisses down your folds, deliberately avoiding your clit till he gets an answer.
“Kook,” you mewl.
“Tell me,” it comes out needy, “please?”
“I do, yeah.” You confess, “I like it a lot — like you so much.”
That’s all he needed. You choke on a moan as Jungkook licks one long strip from your clit to your entrance. He rocks your hips to his face, pistoning his tongue into your tight pussy. Pushes your ass up a little higher so he could have better access to your clit. He licks, sucks, moans, and repeats as if he knows nothing more than to please you.
Jungkook’s moans come out muffled, face stuffed so deeply between your legs, you’d think he’d suffocate to death. On the contrary, he’d argue that life’s worth living even more now. You catch a glimpse of him with his eyes closed and his arm moving fervently between his legs. So shameless and impatient — needs to wank himself for some relief.
“Pretty baby, so fucking wet for me,” he praises against your sex, hot and breathless. Your hand comes around to hold his. Your absolute favorite part of his body. Love it on your body and even more when woven between your fingers — keeps you grounded and secure as you reach your orgasm. And even before you’ve fully come down, Jungkook pulls away and stuffs your cunt with two fingers, curling and thrusting in you with a type of speed and precision that has you gasping. Doesn’t give you room to breathe, prefers having you like this anyway.
“Baby, y-you’re gonna make me cum again.” You cry, eyes fighting to stay open. A certain numbness pools at your stomach, begging to snap at the curl of Jungkook’s fingers.
“I know,” he encourages, “make a mess on my fingers, come on.”
You come again, eyes rolled to the back of your head and moans stifled by your sheets. Jungkook draws in a breath, absolutely hypnotized with your pussy clenching and suctioning his fingers. After a couple seconds pass, Jungkook slowly pulls his fingers out and rolls you down onto your back. He clambers his way on top of you. Wants nothing more than to kiss you and be in your arms. You, on the other hand, had different plans.
“What are you …” Jungkook grunts softly into your mouth. You slide your hands down into his pants and wrap your fingers around his hard cock. Give him one, two, three good pumps before you break away from his lips.
“Honey is a little old-fashioned, no?” You breathlessly ask, your free hand tugs at his belt loops. Jungkook gets the hint and swiftly pulls down his pants and briefs all at once.
“Honey is cute.” He argues, tugging your top down to expose your breasts.
“For married couples, sure. Not suited for a boyfriend.” You correct.
He nods, nicknames don’t really matter to him anyway. Just wanna be yours. Instead, he chooses to latch his lips to your nipple, hand groping the other breast. Bites down on your nipple and immediately soothes it over with his tongue. Jungkook goes back and forth between the two, loving your reactions. The pleasure builds again. He hisses when you roll your hips up at him.
“Tonight’s about you letting go, remember?” He reminds, “I'll take care of you, promise.”
“Want you to feel good too.”
“I do,” he swoops his hand underneath your thigh and pushes it up, “so much, with you.” He guides his cock in between your folds. It’s wet and messy, just how he wants it. You wince at the over sensitivity, but ignore it because Jungkook is falling apart above you. He looks down between you both, mesmerized by your slick coating his length.
You watch him, watch as he slides his cock up and down your core, watch how the head of his cock knocks and moves against your clit.
“You feel so good like this,” Jungkook holds your jaw, nose caressing yours, “wonder how you’d feel inside.”
You whine, hips pushing upwards, “please …”
He shushes you with a kiss, requesting you to be patient with promises of making you feel good. It’s dizzying, but you listen and let him take the reins. Jungkook shifts his hips and you gasp into his mouth at the feel of his hard cock at your entrance. Your pussy flutters around him, so wet and ready. The head of his cock nudges in, stretch so minimal with how well he’s prepped you. You moan and let your head sink onto your pillow. He doesn’t push into you any further, just the tip.
“Mm, you are edging me,” you accuse, unable to move as Jungkook has your hips pinned down to the mattress.
“You wouldn’t like me if I edged you, Juice.” He smiles.
Impossible. Don’t think there’s a universe or lifetime you wouldn’t be drawn by him and him to you. “Need you inside me, Jungkook,” you say, “please?”
He savors the moment for a little longer, tempted to do as you request. God, he would. But Jungkook has a promise to uphold and a lesson to teach. He keeps his word as he slowly inserts himself inch by inch, watching your brows furrow and mouth drop open in frustration.
Jungkook’s just as fucked out. Involuntarily bucks his hips, drawing out a surprised, high-pitched moan from you. Big mistake. The need to hear that again fuels something primal in him. His arms swoop underneath your head. Has you in an embrace as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear — such a contrast to his ruthless hips. Jungkook’s whole life has been about music. Over the years, he saved music sheets from his favorite pieces and shows. His most favorite melody? Your broken moans and cries, spurring him on to continue fucking you.
He’s not sure how long this goes for until he finally lifts himself up, immediately misses the warmth of your body. The view below him makes up for it: your dress bundled up around your waist, breasts bouncing after every thrust, and your wanton gaze. His eyes drop lower at where you both connect — groans at the cream coating his cock and how it gathers at the base after every push. Your breath hitches when his reaches between your bodies and toys with your clit. “Yes, yes, yes, oh, Kook, right there.”
“I—” you can’t even finish your sentence as you cum again for the third time. Jungkook’s eyes close, head tipped back at the feel of your walls squeezing around him.
“Shit,” he trembles and pulls out, trying his best to delay his orgasm. Doesn’t want any of this to end so soon.
Jungkook lays down next to you, hard cock smearing your cum on your stomach. You smile, one of your legs tossed over his hips to keep him close. You’re so tired, but there’s this glint in his eyes — he wants more. Far from being done, he pulls you on top of him, dark locks falling prettily on your pillows. Claims how much he likes your dress as he helps you get out of it.
“Couldn’t have liked it that much if it’s off me now.” You tuck Jungkook’s hair behind his ears and his expression shifts. Fondness. Warmth. Devotion. Jungkook drinks in the view before him — cock twitches at the sight of your fully naked body. Thinks he needs to block out a day to just kiss all your moles, scars, and freckles — adore them one by one. He settles for a small kiss on your palm, and positions his cock for you, eyes pleading at you to sink down on him. Your hip lifts and lowers slowly, stuffing yourself full of him again, fighting the over sensitivity.
“You feel so good,” he rasps, “take me so well.”
You nod, hands pressing his abdomen to hold yourself up. You move first, slow and deliberate to take in his expressions. Jungkook lets you take control for a minute. Just a minute. Because eventually, his fingers dig into your hips, maneuvering you up and down how he likes. Your legs shake, too weak to keep you upright.
“Come here,” he tugs you down so that your chest presses down on his. The new position makes it easier for him to bounce you down. You cry out into the crook of his neck. You trust Jungkook, trust that only he could take your pleasure to another level. Trust him with your body — your heart.
“So good for me,” he grips harder, feeling that familiar heaviness pool at his balls when he’s close. “You can give me another one, right?”
You feel your slick drip down his length with every drop of your hips. You whimper, shake your head, “n-no, I don’t think I can.”
He kisses your temple, “‘s okay, can you hold on for me? I’m so close.”
Of course you can. Anything for him. Anything to see him cum. Because of you, for you. He hugs you close, plants his feet down on your mattress, and fucks himself up into you.
You’re a liar. Body betrays you as he has you bracing his chest and digging your fingernails into his shoulders. Pretty crescent moons on your sunshine. So perfect. Even when you sob from the intensity of his thrusts, you want nothing more than for this feeling to last forever. Because Jungkook has you cumming again, pussy fluttering and milking his length for all he’s worth. It surprises the both of you — surprises Jungkook more when you press your face into his neck and he feels wetness on his skin.
“Baby,” he huffs, “wh-where should I—” hips losing rhythm and stuttering from your clenches.
“Inside, please cum inside me,” you use all your strength to lift your head to kiss him. That’s when Jungkook sees it: your watery lashes.
"Gonna cum," Jungkook gasps, eyes squeezed shut, both hands now pushing your ass to meet his hips, “oh fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He groans loudly into your mouth, shamelessly sucks on your tongue and pumps himself two more times into your cunt before finishing inside you.
Jungkook stills. Pants hard. Mentally snorts at all his past dumb fantasies because they’ll never compare to how he feels with you right now. Doesn’t think he’s ever cummed this much and this hard. But it’s you, the girl he’s fancied for so long. You and Jungkook stay like this for a while longer. His hand trails up and down your back, nearly lulling you to sleep. Jungkook knows you — would rather go barefoot on lego pieces than sleep dirty. You made it clear that showers are a must after practice and before bedtime. Sex was no exception.
Another thirty seconds pass and Jungkook slowly pulls out of you. You wince and close your fists against his chest.
“Sorry, sorry,” he apologizes with kisses on your shoulder and gently rolls you onto your back. He looks a little silly rushing to the bathroom while hopping into his briefs. Comes back with a warm cloth to which you realize seconds later was your favorite face towel.
“Jungkook,” you whine as he parts your legs to clean you up, too weak to put up a fight.
“I know, baby, I’ll get you a new one. You okay, though?”
“Yeah, ‘m good.” You smile, eyes filled with adoration.
How could you not be? Jungkook kisses the old bruises on your knees just as he’s kissed the old wounds in your heart.
───── ♪ ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ♪ ─────
“Whatcha doing?” Jungkook hums into your ear.
“Signing us up for auditions.” You reply naturally, fingers typing away on your phone.
“Uh, what?” He lifts his head up from the pillow, one eye shut from the brightness of your phone.
“With the Tridents.”
“Drum corps? Wait, Juice, I don’t know if I’m ready. There are a lot of good drummers out there …”
“Why not? You’re literally a section leader. There’s nothing you can’t do.”
“But—”
“We’ll go together,” you turn. “Come on, we age out of this circuit soon.”
He looks uncertain. Hesitation stirs in his irises.
“If any of us don’t make the cut, we’re both out. Kay?” Half lie because you’ll encourage him to stay even if you were to get cut first.
Jungkook stares at you, bites his lips as he contemplates his decision. Caves in under three seconds at the sight of your pleading eyes, “Alright, let’s do this.” He’s jittery in your embrace. Can’t believe he’s doing this. Knows he has to go for it.
Because life’s too short not to go full out.
fin.
a/n: fun fact! my high school crush was in the drumline too. funnily enough, i recently saw him after years of radio silence. guess what i did 😎 anyway, lmk if you have any thoughts/feedback/questions ♡
Your husband forgets your second anniversary. What starts as disappointment and heartbreak soon spirals into doubt- about your love, your marriage & whether he even sees you anymore. But when Jungkook realizes his mistake, he’s willing to do anything to prove that his love has never wavered..
Pairing - CeoHusband!Jungkook x Wife!Reader
Genre - 18+, established relationship au, angst, fluff, smut, some more angst MDNI
ONESHOT - 11k words
Warnings - angsty ride, hurt/comfort, workaholic Jungkook, miscommunication, crying, deep emotional intimacy, slow build, Jungkook is an idiot but trust me he's sweet alright😭, Explicit smut- unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), soft dom Jk, nipple play, lots of kissing, love-making, creampie, pet names <3, praises, happy ending (sad ending's not in my veins🫸)
a/n- snsjkqkw It's my first fic (well more like I've taken the courage to actually post it)🥹 do let me know your thoughts on it <3 n consider a reblog if you like it, thank you for reading! 🫶
The soft glow of the overhead light casts long shadows across the dining room. But its warmth does nothing to chase away the cold emptiness creeping into your chest.
You sit in one of the dining chairs, fingers idly tracing the gold band on your ring finger, the once-familiar weight of it.. feeling heavier than ever. The house is silent, except for the distant hum of the city beyond the huge windows.
Jungkook is late. Again.
You’ve lost count of how many nights have passed like this, curled up alone in bed, the space beside you growing colder with each passing hour.
He always has a reason. A meeting that ran overtime, a last-minute project, something urgent that demands his attention more than you do. And you’ve always understood. Until now.
Your second anniversary is just around the corner, and for the first time in weeks, you have something to look forward to. Something that, surely, he wouldn’t forget.
You let out a slow breath, staring at the untouched dinner on the table. It’s the third time this week you’ve set two plates, only to eat alone. The food has long gone cold, but you still can’t bring yourself to clear it away. Some foolish, desperate part of you still hopes Jungkook will walk through the door, pulling you into his arms, murmuring apologies against your skin.
But the door stays closed. Your phone stays silent.
You check the time—almost midnight.
He used to call. Even when he was busy, he always found a way to let you know he was thinking about you. A quick text. A voice note. Something. Now, hours pass without a word, and you’re left wondering when exactly you started feeling like a ghost in your own marriage.
You clench your fists, blinking back the sting in your eyes. This isn’t you. You don’t doubt him. You don’t overthink things. But these days, love feels a lot like waiting, and waiting feels a lot like breaking.
And you’re so damn tired of breaking.
You close your eyes, trying to remember the Jungkook from before, before work took over, before the distance set in. The man who, despite his quiet nature, always found a way to make you feel cherished. He wasn’t one for grand speeches, but his words had always carried weight. Small, simple confessions once meant everything. Now, silence is all you get.
It wasn’t always easy with Jungkook. Back in college, he was cold, reserved, a storm you could never quite predict. But little by little, he let you in. His love had been careful, deliberate, whispered promises in the dark, stolen glances across crowded rooms, fingertips brushing against yours like a secret only the two of you understood.
And now, it feels like you’re losing him.
The thought sends a sharp ache through your chest. You tell yourself it’s just work, that the weight of being CEO is heavier than either of you expected. That he still loves you, even if he doesn’t say it as often.
But love isn’t supposed to feel like this.
The clock hits midnight.
You don’t know what you were expecting. A text? A call? Maybe the sound of the front door unlocking, Jungkook stepping in, exhausted but still managing to hold you close?
But there’s nothing.
Your throat tightens as you stare at the small cake sitting on the dining table, the frosting slightly uneven, the decorations a little clumsy. You were never a good cook. Jungkook knew that better than anyone. But in the early days of your marriage, you had tried. Because back then, cooking together had been something special. Flour-dusted fingertips, shared laughter over burnt pancakes, stolen kisses between stirring batter.
So tonight, with him too busy and too stressed, you thought a quiet, cozy celebration would be enough. Something small, something just for the two of you.
But now, looking at the untouched dinner, the unlit candle, and the cake that no longer seems worth eating, you realize how foolish that hope was.
You glance at your phone—no messages, no missed calls.
You put away the plates. You put the cake in the fridge, even though you know it’ll probably stay there, forgotten.
And then you crawl into bed alone, wrapping your arms around yourself because if Jungkook won’t hold you, who else will?
----
You stir, feeling the warmth of an arm lazily draped around your stomach. The weight is familiar, and for a moment it feels like everything is okay.
Jungkook is still asleep. Shirtless, his toned chest rises and falls in steady breaths, his face soft in the morning light. His lips parted just slightly, making him look so much younger, so much more at peace.
You take your time looking at him, memorizing the exhaustion on his face, the faint crease between his brows even in sleep. He must’ve come home late—so late that you hadn’t even heard him.
Still, he’s here. Beside you. And that alone is enough to make something flicker in your chest.
Maybe he’s planned to stay home today.
Of course he remembers.
You can’t help but lean in, pressing a soft, loving kiss against his cheek. His skin is warm beneath your lips, and for a fleeting moment, everything feels like it used to.
Jungkook mumbles something incoherent, his brows knitting slightly before relaxing again. A small, sleepy noise escapes him, and the sound makes you giggle softly.
He stirs, his grip on your waist tightening just a little before his lashes flutter open. His dark eyes, still hazy with sleep, land on you, and for a second, there’s nothing but quiet warmth in them.
"You're up early," he murmurs, his voice thick with drowsiness. His thumb absentmindedly brushes over your waist, a touch so familiar yet so foreign all at once.
You smile, brushing a few strands of hair from his forehead. "Couldn't sleep much," you admit softly.
Jungkook hums in response, his eyes falling shut again for a moment. He nuzzles into the pillow, his grip on you still firm like he has no intention of letting you go. And for a brief, fragile second, the weight of last night, of the distance, of everything, seems to disappear.
Maybe he really did plan to stay home today. Maybe this morning means something.
Your heart clenches with the smallest trace of hope.
Jungkook lets out a long breath and shifts onto his back, stretching his arms above his head before blindly reaching for his phone on the nightstand. His warmth leaves your side, the air turning cold almost instantly.
You watch as his expression shifts, sleep slipping away as his screen lights up. His brows furrow, jaw tightening ever so slightly.
Then, with barely a glance in your direction, he mutters, "Shit, I need to get to the office."
The hope you held onto so desperately?
Gone.
Your mind scrambles to catch up.
Maybe he's kidding. Maybe this is just one of his teasing games where he acts all nonchalant just to catch you off guard later. That’s how it used to be. Him pretending to forget something important, only to turn around and surprise you in a way that left you breathless.
So you wait.
You wait for the smirk to tug at his lips, for him to toss his phone aside and pull you into his arms. You wait for him to kiss you insane, to murmur a husky "Happy anniversary, baby," against your skin.
You wait for him to prove you wrong.
But he doesn't.
Jungkook swings his legs over the bed, rubbing a hand down his face before standing up. He moves through the motions—grabbing a fresh shirt from the dresser, checking his notifications again, already half-immersed in whatever work emergency is pulling him away.
The realization settles in. suffocating. He’s not playing or pretending. He really forgot.
And with that, the last flicker of hope inside you dies.
----
The sound of the bathroom door clicking shut barely registers in your mind. The faint rush of water follows soon after, but you’re still frozen in place, staring at the empty space where Jungkook was just moments ago.
Your fingers grip the sheets as you try to process it, try to make sense of the ache settling deep in your chest.
He forgot.
The thought circles endlessly, refusing to fade. It should be simple, just a mistake, something easily fixed with an apology. But it doesn’t feel simple. It feels like another crack in something that’s already been fragile for weeks.
Your gaze drifts to your phone, the screen lighting up with messages from friends and family. Warm wishes, sweet texts. All reminders of the day that Jungkook should have been the first to acknowledge. And of course, they must have messaged him too.
But you know the answer before you even have to question it. Jungkook has two phones—one for work, one for personal use. And these days, his personal phone sits untouched, collecting dust somewhere in the house while his work phone never leaves his side.
Your throat tightens.
Even if someone did remind him, would he have even seen it? Would it have even mattered?
You swallow hard, blinking against the sudden sting in your eyes.
Maybe you should say something. maybe try reminding him.
But a part of you, one that you don’t want to acknowledge—wonders if it even matters anymore.
You push yourself up from the bed, the weight in your chest making it harder than it should be. You don’t want to sit here, waiting for him to remember, waiting for an apology that might never come.
Just as you step toward the bathroom, the shower turns off. The door opens a moment later, as Jungkook steps out, towel slung low around his waist, droplets of water trailing down his toned chest.
For a brief second, your eyes meet. He looks at you, blinking away the last remnants of sleep, his expression unreadable. There’s no sign of realization, no flicker of guilt or hesitation. Just the same tired, distracted gaze you’ve been seeing for weeks.
You say nothing. Instead, you walk past him, entering the washroom to go about your usual routine. brushing your teeth, washing your face, anything to avoid the tightness in your throat.
The sound of the sink running is the only thing filling the silence between you.
By the time you step out of the washroom, Jungkook is already dressed for work. His tie is slightly loosened, one hand adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves while the other holds his ever-present work phone. He looks like he’s in a hurry, but that isn’t surprising. He’s been having breakfast at the office for weeks now—always rushing out, always too busy.
Still, you can’t grasp that he’s actually forgotten.
Some part of you still expects him to pause, to turn around and say something. But he doesn’t. He’s focused on his screen, scanning through emails like today is just another ordinary morning.
Your chest tightens. You need to look away before the emotions creeping up inside you spill over.
You settle at the table, opening your laptop like it’s just another workday. Since you’ve been working from home for the past couple of months, this isn’t unusual—but today, it’s not about work. It’s about avoiding him. About keeping your head down so he doesn’t see the way your hands tremble slightly.
If you act normal, maybe it’ll hurt less.
Maybe you won’t break in front of him.
And maybe, just maybe, if you pretend hard enough, you can fool yourself into believing it doesn’t hurt at all.
“Baby, can you help me with the tie?”
His voice is smooth- like every other morning before this one. Like today isn’t supposed to mean more.
You hesitate for half a second before standing up, walking towards him. Your fingers move automatically, looping the fabric, tightening the knot, straightening it against his crisp shirt. You should pull away the moment you’re done, return to your seat, to your laptop, to pretending like everything is fine.
But just as you step back, Jungkook’s hand catches your wrist.
Before you can react, he tugs you closer, his warmth enveloping you as his large hand cups the side of your face, fingers splayed against your skin. His touch is tender, his thumb tracing slow circles against your cheek, his dark eyes holding yours for a beat too long.
His mouth find yours.
Warm & lingering. He kisses you like he actually means it.
“Need it for good luck,” he mumbles lovingly against your lips.
You blink up at him.
Jungkook pulls back slightly, offering a small smile. “Big deal with the Kims today.”
And just like that, reality crashes back in.
Your mind struggles to process, to understand how he can be like this. How can he kiss you like this and still not remember.
His mind is somewhere else. His thoughts, his focus—none of it is here. None of it is with you.
You force a smile, nodding wordlessly. Because what else is there to say?
----
You stay where you are, settled on the couch with your laptop open, pretending that your heart isn’t sitting heavy in your chest, while Jungkook moves around gathering his wallet and keys.
Just as he’s about to leave, he steps toward you, bending down to press a quick kiss to your forehead.
“Love you,” he murmurs.
He’s already halfway through the living room before you even get a word out.
A bitter chuckle escapes your lips before you can stop it.
You remember a time when things were different. When he used to whine, pout, and nudge you relentlessly if you didn’t say it back right away, just to tease him.
Flashback
The movie playing in the background had long been forgotten, the dialogue drowned out by the soft moans slipping from your lips. The purple neon glow cast dreamy hues across the living room, painting Jungkook’s skin in shades of violet as he moved above you.
His fingers laced tightly with yours, grip tightening slightly as his thrusts grew more desperate.
“J-Jungkook…” you moaned softly, nails digging into his hand.
He groaned against your neck, his breath hot, voice wrecked. “Fuck, baby…”
Your body arched beneath him, pleasure building to something uncontrollable. “I—I’m gonna—”
“Come for me, baby,” he urged, sending you tumbling over the edge.
You both unraveled together, gasping, shaking, holding onto each other like the world outside didn’t exist.
Jungkook pressed lazy, loving kisses all over your face, his lips brushing over your cheeks, your eyelids, the tip of your nose. “You alright?” he whispered.
You nodded, a sleepy, satisfied smile tugging at your lips. But then he just stared at you. A little too long.
"I love you.” The words came out barely above a whisper.
Your eyes widened slightly, a playful grin tugging at the corner of your lips as you bit down on them, trying to contain your smile. He’d been saying it more often lately, slowly getting used to voicing what he felt.
But when you took a second too long to respond, he groaned dramatically, dropping his head into the crook of your neck like a kicked puppy.
“Say it back,” he grumbled.
“What?” you teased, laughing.
Jungkook huffed, then playfully bit down on your shoulder, just enough to make you squeal.
“Say it,” he demanded, his voice muffled against your skin.
Still giggling, you cupped his face and pressed a soft kiss to his nose. “I love you, you big baby.”
His grin was instant, arms wrapping around you as he pulled you even closer, like he could never get enough.
End of Flashback
Now, he just says it in passing. quick, thoughtless, already moving on.
The front door clicks shut, and just like that, Jungkook is gone.
You sit there, fingers motionless on your laptop’s keyboard as the weight of what just happened settles deep in your chest. He forgot. He kissed you, held you, told you he loved you, but none of it was because he remembered.
Is this what your relationship has become?
Work, work, work. Always work.
It’s not that you expect Jungkook to run behind you all the time, to ditch his responsibilities just to shower you with affection. Hell, you supported him through everything- through college, through late nights chasing his dreams, through every stressful moment leading up to him becoming CEO. You believed in him.
But what about your love? Your marriage? Communication?
You’ve been patient. Too patient. more understanding than any normal wife would be. And you know Jungkook. You know he loves you, would bring you the whole damn world if you asked. But then why—why are you beginning to question it all?
Jungkook stepped into the CEO position a few months ago. At first, things were fine. He handled it well, still made time for you. But then… everything became about work. Slowly, then all at once.
You can’t even remember the last time you had truly loving sex. Not that Jungkook doesn’t love you but it doesn’t feel the same anymore. There’s tension in his touch, frustration in the way he moves against you. It’s not the warmth, the desperation to be close to you like it used to be.
Is this how life is going to be from now on?
Sure, you could talk to Jungkook about your feelings. Tell him that the distance is starting to feel unbearable.
But when?
When he’s always checking his phone? When he barely even looks at you in the mornings? When you feel like you’re living with the CEO rather than your husband?
Well, happy anniversary to you.
----
Your gaze drops to your hand, to the delicate band wrapped around your finger.
Your wedding ring.
For the first time in a long time, you really look at it- tracing the intricate details, the subtle shimmer in the morning light. And suddenly, it feels… heavier. Like you’re only noticing the weight of it now, as if it’s trying to remind you of everything it once meant.
Before you even realize what you’re doing, your fingers slip beneath the band, sliding it off. It’s only when the cool air brushes against your bare skin that it hits you.
Your breath catches, eyes widening at the sight of the ring resting in your palm. You hadn’t even thought about it—you just did it. And now, staring at the small, beautiful piece of jewelry, something inside you cracks. Tears gather before you can stop them.
Jungkook had spent weeks searching for this ring. Dragged you to countless jewelry stores, analyzing every cut, every design, obsessed with finding the perfect one. And no matter how many times you had told him that anything would make you happy, he had refused to settle for less.
"It has to be special," he had murmured against your temple the day he finally found it, slipping it onto your finger with the softest smile. "Because you’re special."
A broken sob escapes your throat as you clutch the ring tightly in your palm.
How did you end up here?
----
Jungkook leans back in his chair, exhaling slowly as he watches the final contract details appear on his screen. The deal with the Kims had gone smoothly, better than expected, actually. It should’ve been a moment of satisfaction, of relief.
Instead, he just drowns himself in more work.
The hours blur together, his coffee going cold beside him as he moves from one task to another. Another meeting. Another report. Another email. The same routine, the same cycle.
It’s later than evening when a familiar voice interrupts his space.
“So you’re really here.”
Jungkook glances up, his fingers still typing as Taehyung steps into his cabin, arms crossed and a deep frown on his face.
“Hey, hyung,” Jungkook greets, barely looking away from his screen.
Taehyung scoffs, shaking his head playfully. “I really didn’t believe it when Yuna said you were still in your cabin.”
“Why?”
Taehyung gives him a look like he’s the biggest idiot in the world. “Y/N must really love you to let you work even today. My wife—dude, she would’ve killed me.”
Jungkook hums absentmindedly. “Mmm.”
Taehyung clicks his tongue, watching him for a second before letting out a chuckle. “Anyways, you’re still an asshole for working on your anniversary.”
Jungkook’s fingers freeze over the keyboard. The realization crashes into him all at once, like ice spreading through his veins.
Fuck.
Jungkook’s fingers hover motionless over the keyboard.
His mind races to catch up with Taehyung’s words, but they don’t make sense. Not right away.
Anniversary?
No, that can’t be right. His brows furrow slightly as he glances at the date on his laptop screen.
November 22.
His wedding anniversary.
For a second, he just stares, as if the numbers might shift into something else, something that doesn’t prove what an absolute idiot he’s been. His heartbeat picks up, but his body doesn’t move. It’s like his brain refuses to register it fully, like if he doesn’t react, it won’t be real.
He’d forgotten.
Completely.
Just an entire day of emails, meetings, and a deal he had been so damn focused on that he hadn’t even spared a single thought for you.
His wife.
But—no, that can’t be right. He would’ve remembered. He should’ve remembered.
His jaw tightens, his mind scrambling for some excuse, some reason. anything to justify how this happened. But no matter how many ways he tries to twist it, the truth doesn’t change.
You had expected something. Of course you had. And Jungkook had given you nothing.
Taehyung’s voice barely registers now, his casual teasing just background noise to the way Jungkook’s pulse is starting to hammer against his ribs.
His wife. His love. His anniversary.
And he had let it pass him by like it was just another day.
How the fuck is he supposed to fix this?
Taehyung squints at Jungkook, waiting for some kind of reaction. When Jungkook stays quiet, his fingers frozen over the keyboard, Taehyung lets out a sharp laugh.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” He leans forward, palms flat on Jungkook’s desk. “You just realized, didn’t you?”
Jungkook inhales deeply through his nose, his jaw tightening. “Hyung, not now.”
“Oh, no. Especially now,” Taehyung shoots back, shaking his head. “Damn, man. Y/N must really love you to put up with this shit.”
Jungkook doesn’t reply, his mind already spiraling. He checks the time—late. The entire day is gone. He’s spent hours sitting here, drowning himself in work while you—
Fuck.
He pushes his chair back abruptly, grabbing his phone and shoving it into his pocket. His coat is next, yanked from the back of his chair as he moves on instinct.
“Whoa, whoa.” Taehyung raises an eyebrow. “So now you care?”
Jungkook levels him with a glare. “Hyung.”
Taehyung lifts his hands in surrender, though his smirk lingers. “Go. Try not to get divorced on your second anniversary.”
Jungkook doesn’t wait for another word. He’s already out the door, moving faster than he has all day.
And for the first time today, work is the last thing on his mind.
----
Jungkook’s mind races as he grips the steering wheel, his fingers tightening with every passing second. The city lights blur past, but all he can focus on is the suffocating weight in his chest.
How the fuck did he forget?
His phone vibrates in the passenger seat- probably another work email but for the first time in months, he ignores it. Instead, he swipes through his contacts, pressing the first name that comes to mind.
“Pick up, pick up,” he mutters, jaw clenched as the dial tone rings.
“Yes, Mr.Jeon?”
“Yuna.” His voice is rushed, urgent. “I need you to get me something. Flowers. A gift. Something big—just—fuck, anything.”
A pause. “Sir?”
“Now,” he snaps.
There’s a shuffle on the other end before his assistant hesitantly speaks again. “I…Mr.Jeon, it’s almost 10 p.m. Most places are closed.”
Jungkook exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. Of course they are. Because he’s too fucking late.
His grip tightens around the wheel. “Just—check. Call whoever. I’ll pay whatever.”
“Understood,” Yuna replies before hanging up.
What the fuck is he even doing?
No expensive gift, no overpriced bouquet, no last-minute grand gesture can erase the fact that he forgot. That he spent an entire day drowning in work while you—his wife, his love, the woman who has stood by him through everything—sat at home, waiting for him to remember.
His hands clench the wheel.
How much had he missed? How much had he ignored?
And the worst part—the part that makes his pulse spike, that has panic clawing at his ribs is the question he doesn’t have an answer to.
What if you’re done waiting?
Jungkook slams his foot down on the gas.
He’s not losing you. He won’t.
----
Jungkook steps into the house, and immediately, something feels off. The air is still. The silence stretches, suffocating, pressing against his chest. Almost all the lights are off, the space eerily empty, like no one has been here for hours.
His throat dries. “Baby?”
No answer.
He frowns, dropping his keys onto the counter with a sharp clink. His feet move quickly, checking the kitchen, the living room, even the hallway leading to the bedroom. nothing.
A weird feeling starts creeping up his spine. His heart beats faster as he strides toward the bedroom door, only to find the bed untouched, the sheets exactly the way he had left them this morning.
You’re not here.
His pulse spikes, a cold sweat forming at the base of his neck. His hands tremble as he yanks his phone out, immediately dialing your number.
One ring.
Two rings.
Three.
Straight to voicemail.
His stomach drops. A shaky breath escapes him as he stares at his screen, the call log mocking him with the lack of response. His fingers tighten around the device, his mind spiraling.
Where are you? At this time of night, alone- where could you have gone?
The walls feel like they’re closing in on him. His lungs strain for air.
Then, another thought claws its way in, violent and unwelcome.
Did you leave?
No. No. His chest tightens, his breath coming faster now. That’s not—that’s not possible. You wouldn’t just leave him. You wouldn’t—
He swallows hard, shaking his head. Don’t go there, Jungkook. Don’t even fucking go there.
But the panic is already curling around his ribs, suffocating, unrelenting.
You’re not here. And right now, that is the worst fucking thing in the world.
Jungkook’s fingers tremble as he redials your number.
Voicemail. Again.
“Fuck.” His breath comes out uneven, panic clawing at his throat. His hands are clammy, his chest tightening with every passing second. Where are you?
His mind is spiraling now, every worst-case scenario flashing through his head. His jaw clenches as he swipes to his contact list calling your friends.
Each time, the same response.
No, I haven’t seen her.
Did you check with—
Wait, what’s going on?
Jungkook grits his teeth, his hand tightening into a fist. His breathing is shallow, his pulse out of control. You weren’t with your friends. You weren’t picking up. You weren’t home.
And he still had no idea where you were.
Jungkook grabs his car keys with shaky hands, his mind racing. He doesn’t know where to go, doesn’t have a plan. All he knows is that he has to find you.
His feet move on instinct, carrying him toward the door. But just as he reaches for the handle, something catches his eye.
A small glint.
His breath stills. His gaze shifts toward the couch, and that’s when he sees it.
Your wedding ring.
Sitting there. Abandoned.
For a moment, everything stops. The pounding in his chest, the rush of his movements. Everything.
The air in the room feels so heavy he might collapse. His fingers twitch at his sides as he stares at the delicate band, his stomach twisting into something painful.
You never took it off. Never.
Jungkook swallows, his throat suddenly dry. He steps forward almost cautiously, like touching it will somehow make this nightmare real.
His hand trembles as he picks it up, the cool metal pressing into his palm..
Jungkook stares at the ring in his palm, his vision blurring as a lump lodges itself in his throat. Tears burn at the corners of his eyes, his chest tightening painfully.
You wouldn’t just leave him like that… would you?
The thought alone knocks the air from his lungs. His grip on the ring tightens as his mind spirals, drowning in questions that only make the ache worse.
Were you thinking about this before today?
How long have you been feeling like this, so alone, so unloved that taking off your ring even crossed your mind?
A sharp breath escapes him, shaky and uneven. His knees buckle, and before he can stop himself, he’s sinking onto the floor, the weight of everything crashing down at once.
The ring feels heavier than it should, pressing into his palm like a cruel reminder of everything he’s neglected, everything he’s taken for granted. He squeezes his eyes shut, exhaling a slow, trembling breath.
He needs to find you. He needs to fix this.
Before it’s too late.
Jungkook exhales shakily, forcing himself to move. His legs feel unsteady, but he pushes through, gripping the wedding ring so tightly it bites into his skin.
Somehow, he manages to stand, his entire body tense with desperation. He stumbles toward the door, his heart pounding, his mind racing with every possibility of where you could be.
But just as his fingers reach for the handle—
The door swings open.
And there you are.
Jungkook freezes, his breath catching in his throat. His entire world narrows to the sight of you standing in front of him.
He crashes into you, arms wrapping around you so tightly it nearly knocks the air from your lungs. His grip is desperate, his hands fisting into your clothes, his entire body pressing against yours like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.
You stand there, stunned, your own arms hovering slightly, unsure of what just happened.
"…Jungkook?” your voice comes out confused.
But he just clings to you, burying his face into your neck, his breath warm and uneven against your skin.
You don’t know what’s going on.
But Jungkook?
He feels like he just got his heart beating again. You feel the way his body trembles against yours, his grip impossibly tight, like he’s holding onto you for dear life.
Then, the sound reaches you. A broken, uneven breath, followed by the unmistakable hitch of a sob.
Your heart clenches. “Kook…” Your voice is soft, laced with worry as you try to pull back, just enough to see his face. But he doesn’t let you. His arms only tighten, his body curling into yours, as if letting go would physically hurt him.
Panic bubbles in your chest, your hands instinctively reaching up to cradle his face, your fingers threading into his hair. “Hey… what happened?” Your voice wavers slightly. “Are you okay? You’re scaring me.”
But Jungkook just shakes his head against your shoulder, another shaky breath leaving him.
You don’t understand.
But whatever this is, whatever’s breaking him like this—your own heart aches just watching him fall apart. Your concern deepens with every shaky breath that leaves Jungkook. He’s still clinging to you, his body trembling slightly, his face buried against your shoulder like he’s afraid to let go.
You don’t know what’s wrong, but seeing him like this—Jungkook, your Jungkook—completely unraveling, is enough to make panic rise in your chest.
Gently, you pull back, your hands cupping his face. His skin is warm, slightly damp from his tears, and when his glassy eyes finally meet yours, your stomach twists painfully.
“Come inside,” you whisper, your voice softer now, coaxing. “Please.”
He swallows thickly, nodding ever so slightly, but his grip on you doesn’t fully loosen. You guide him inside anyway, one hand wrapped around his wrist as you lead him toward the couch.
He sits down heavily, elbows resting on his knees, fingers threading through his hair as he exhales shakily. His shoulders are still tense, his whole body radiating something raw and unspoken.
You kneel in front of him, reaching for his hands, but he doesn’t lift his head.
Your worry deepens. “Jungkook… please tell me what’s wrong.” suffocating silence stretches between you. His fingers twitch against his temples, his breath uneven.
“I—” His speaks as his voice cracks slightly. He swallows hard, gripping his knees. “I thought you left me.”
It takes you a moment to fully process the words he let out.
He thought you left him?
Your brows furrow slightly as you shake your head. “Jungkook, I was babysitting Hanuel.”
His eyes flick up to meet yours, searching.
“Hana and Seokjin had a date night,” you explain gently. “They asked me to watch him for a few hours.”
Hanuel, your neighbour's son. Jungkook stares at you as his mind hasn’t caught up yet. You watch as his lips part slightly, his gaze flickering between you and the ring still clutched in his hand.
His fingers tighten around it, his knuckles paling. A beat of silence passes before he swallows thickly, his voice barely above a whisper.
“…then why was this on the couch?”
The question hangs heavy in the air, fragile and uncertain, as if he’s afraid of the answer. And for the first time tonight, you don’t know what to say.
“I..” The word barely escapes your lips before you stand up, turning away from him. You can’t meet his eyes, not when your emotions are still raw, not when the weight of everything is pressing so heavily on your chest.
Jungkook notices immediately. Panic flickers across his face, and in an instant, he’s scrambling up after you. “Wait—baby, please.” His voice is desperate now, thick with emotion, his hands reaching out like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers.
“I’m sorry,” he breathes, stepping closer, his tone cracking under the weight of his own guilt. “I—fuck, I forgot—I don’t know how, I don’t even have an excuse, but—” He exhales sharply, shaking his head, his eyes glassy as they plead with yours.
“I never meant to make you feel like this,” he whispers. “I swear, I didn’t.” But you still don’t look at him. And that alone is enough to make his heart sink.
You swallow hard, your arms wrapping around yourself as you stare at the floor. His words, his desperation, his guilt—they all swirl around you, but they don’t erase the ache in your chest.
“Do you even realize how much this hurt?” Your voice is quiet, but the weight of it makes Jungkook flinch. “I spent the entire day thinking—hoping—that maybe you had something planned. That maybe you were just pretending to forget.”
Jungkook’s throat bobs as he steps closer, hesitating before reaching for your hand. You don’t pull away, but you don’t hold onto him either.
“I know,” he whispers. “I know I fucked up, baby. I—I was so caught up in work, I just…” He trails off, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “That’s not an excuse. Nothing is. I should’ve remembered. I should’ve been there.”
You let out a hollow laugh, finally lifting your gaze to meet his. “Jungkook… this isn’t just about today.”
His brows furrow, but he doesn’t interrupt.
You take a shaky breath. “It’s been weeks..maybe even longer—since I felt like your wife instead of just… someone waiting for you to come home.” Your voice wavers, but you push through. “And it’s not that I don’t understand. I do. I’ve always understood. But at what point do I stop being understanding and start being invisible to you?”
Jungkook’s breath catches, his grip on your hand tightening like he’s afraid to let go. “You’re not invisible,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “You never could be.”
“Then why do I feel like I am?”
Silence.
Jungkook shakes his head, his jaw clenching as he exhales unsteadily. “I never wanted to make you feel this way,” he murmurs. “You are everything to me, baby. Everything. I don’t even know who I am without you.”
Your eyes sting, but you force yourself to hold his gaze. “Then show me, Jungkook. Because I can’t keep being the only one fighting for us.” The vulnerability in your voice nearly breaks him.
He’s been losing you, piece by piece, for a while now. And he hadn’t even noticed.
Jungkook feels his stomach drop, the weight of your words hitting harder than any argument, any fight you could have thrown at him. His grip on your hand tightens, but you don’t squeeze back.
He’s losing you.
And it’s not because of one forgotten anniversary—it’s because he hasn’t been here.
He swallows hard. “Baby…” His voice cracks, his free hand reaching up to cup your cheek, but you step back before he can touch you.
The distance, however small, is enough to make his chest ache.
“Tell me, Jungkook,” you whisper, your voice barely holding together. “When was the last time we sat down and had breakfast together? When was the last time you really looked at me—not just kissed me on the forehead before rushing out of the door?” You shake your head, a bitter chuckle escaping. “When was the last time we made love without it feeling like you were trying to release your stress instead of loving me?”
Jungkook’s breath hitches.
You let out a slow exhale, your voice calmer now but even heavier with hurt. “I don’t need grand gestures. I don’t need fancy gifts or a picture-perfect romance. I just… needed you to see me.”
His entire body feels cold. Because the truth is—he doesn’t have an answer.
He’s been so caught up in his responsibilities, his work, his stress, that he’s let the one person who has always been there for him slip through his fingers.
“Fuck.” His voice is raw, his hands running through his hair as he looks at you, really looks at you. At the exhaustion in your eyes, the way your lips tremble slightly like you’re holding back everything.
His heart clenches painfully. “I fucked up, didn’t I?”
You hold his gaze for a long moment before whispering, “I don’t know, Jungkook. Did you?”
Jungkook's heart hammers too quickly as he stares at you, at the distance between you, the weight of your words suffocating him.
His hands reach out- cupping your face, his touch desperate, almost shaky. His forehead presses against yours as he exhales a trembling breath, like he’s trying to hold himself together.
“I see you,” he whispers, his voice raw, strained. “I swear to god, I see you, baby. I just..I lost myself somewhere along the way, and I didn’t even realize I was dragging us down with me.”
His thumbs brush over your cheekbones, a silent plea laced in his touch. “I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”
Your heart clenches, but you don’t push him away. You should- you should make him sit with this, make him feel what it’s been like for you all this time. But then his grip tightens, his voice breaking.
“Please, baby.” His lips hover just above yours, not quite touching, his breath warm against your skin. “Tell me it’s not too late.”
His vulnerability shakes you to your core.
You close your eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to steady yourself. “I don’t want to lose us either, Jungkook,” you whisper. “But I can’t keep being the only one holding on.”
Jungkook shakes his head instantly. “You’re not. You won’t be.” His lips ghost over your forehead before he pulls back just enough to meet your eyes. “Let me prove it to you. Please.”
His desperation is tangible, seeping into every word, every touch. And for the first time tonight, you wonder if maybe, just maybe—he really does see you now.
Jungkook watches you, searching for something—anything in your eyes that tells him he hasn’t completely lost you.
Before doubt can settle in, he takes your hand, pressing it over his chest, right where his heart is hammering wildly. “Feel that?” he whispers. “That’s what you do to me, baby. Always.”
Your fingers twitch against his shirt, but you don’t pull away. You don’t move at all, just staring up at him, your expression unreadable.
He swallows hard. “I know I don’t say it enough. I know I don’t show it enough, but fuck, Y/n—” His hands tighten around yours, his voice barely above a breath. “There is nothing in this world that matters more to me than you.”
You let out a slow exhale, your gaze flickering, like you want to believe him. like a part of you does, but the hurt is still too fresh. So he gives you more.
“I’ll fix this,” he promises, his thumb brushing soft circles over your wrist. “Not with some last-minute bullshit—but with me. With us.”
His voice drops lower, thick with emotion. “Just tell me it’s not too late.” Your lips part slightly, but you don’t speak. Instead, you finally—finally press your palm flat against his chest, feeling the way his heart beats erratically beneath your touch.
It’s enough to break something inside Jungkook. His grip tightens as he leans in, his lips brushing against your temple, hesitantly then to your cheek—as if he’s still afraid you’ll slip away.
And when you don’t, when you let him, he exhales a shaky breath, his forehead resting against yours once more.
“I love you,” he whispers. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
Like if he says it enough, he can make up for all the times he didn’t. And maybe, just maybe—you’ll believe him again.
Jungkook’s breath is warm against your skin, his forehead still pressed against yours, his grip on you unwavering. His words linger in the air between you. raw, desperate, filled with a love that had always been there, even when he’d failed to show it.
You swallow hard, blinking against the tears clouding your vision. He’s waiting—watching you so intently, so hopelessly, as if your next words will either put him back together or completely shatter him.
You take a shaky breath. “Jungkook…” Your voice wavers, and his grip tightens instinctively. “I love you too.”
A sharp exhale leaves him, his entire body sinking slightly in relief. But before he can say anything, you continue. “But this hurt,” you whisper. “More than you realize.”
Jungkook stiffens, nodding quickly, his hands cupping your face again, his thumbs brushing away the tears that slip down your cheeks. “I know, baby. I know. And I hate myself for it.” His voice cracks, his jaw clenching before he presses a lingering kiss to your forehead.
You let your eyes flutter shut for a second, exhaling slowly. “I don’t want promises, Jungkook,” you murmur. “I just… I need to feel like I matter to you again.”
His hands tremble slightly as they slide down, wrapping around yours. He lifts them to his lips, pressing gentle, reverent kisses to each of your knuckles, his dark eyes never leaving yours.
“You do,” he whispers. “More than anything. And I’m going to spend every damn day proving that to you.” His voice comes out steady with a determined love.
and this time you don’t just hear him but believe him too. even if a little.
Jungkook presses another loving kiss against your knuckles. But before he can lose himself completely, you gently murmur, “Have you eaten?”
The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. He shakes his head, gaze still searching yours. “No… I—"
“Go freshen up,” you say softly, stepping back just a little. “We’ll eat together.”
His fingers twitch against yours, hesitating to let go, but eventually, he nods. With one last glance—like he’s making sure you’re really here, he pulls away and heads toward the shower.
While he’s gone, you move to the kitchen, setting out dinner in quiet contemplation. The ache in your chest hasn’t completely faded, but there’s something else now-
a warmth that wasn’t there before.
----
By the time Jungkook emerges, hair damp, dressed in a fresh t-shirt and sweatpants, you’ve already placed the food on the table.
He hesitates for only a second before joining you, sliding into his chair. “Thank you,” he murmurs, voice softer now.
You nod, offering a small smile as you take a seat. The conversation is light, effortless. Jungkook fills the silence, stealing glances at you like he’s still memorizing you all over again. And through it all, his hand never leaves yours, his thumb rubbing slow, soothing circles against your skin.
After dinner, he helps with the dishes, working beside you in quiet understanding. The air between you feels lighter, yet still fragile, like something delicate being pieced back together.
Jungkook sets the last dish onto the drying rack, wiping his hands on the towel before turning to you. There’s a soft, almost hopeful look in his eyes, like he’s clinging to this moment.
You step away, hesitating for just a second before opening the refrigerator. Jungkook watches in silence as you carefully pull out the cake, placing on the counter, your fingers grazing the edges of the plate, before finally speaking.
“I…I’d made this.”
The words are quiet, but they hit harder than any raised voice ever could. Jungkook’s entire body stiffening as guilt crashes into him all over again. His eyes flicker to the cake- to the careful details, the effort, the thought you had put into it, for him. And suddenly, it feels like the walls are caving in.
His throat tightens. His fingers curl at his sides. He can’t look at you. He doesn’t deserve to. Tears gather in his eyes, blurring his vision, his heart breaking all over again, not just because he forgot today, but because he had broken you in so many ways without even realizing it.
And that? That’s something he doesn’t know how to forgive himself for.
“Jungkook..”, your voice barely above a whisper, but it cuts through the heavy silence like a knife.
He wants to look at you, wants to say something—anything, but he can’t. His head remains bowed, his hands gripping the edge of the counter, as if holding himself together takes everything in him.
You take a small step forward, the space between you feeling larger than it actually is. His silence is deafening.
“Jungkook,” you say again, a little firmer this time.
His lips part, a shaky breath slipping through, but no words come out. He wants to speak, to apologize again, to tell you how much he loves you, to somehow fix this- but his throat feels tight, his chest heavy.
He doesn’t know if words are enough.
“I… I’m so fucking sorry, baby,” Jungkook chokes out, his voice trembling as he finally speaks. His hands shake at his sides, his eyes still glassy with unshed tears. “I’ve been an asshole—a terrible husband. I don’t even know how to make this right.” His breath stutters, his words spilling out faster now, raw and desperate.
“I wouldn’t even be surprised if you left me,” he continues, shaking his head. “You should’ve. You deserve better. I—I can’t believe I—”
“Jungkook.”
You don’t let him finish.
Instead, you reach up, cupping his face with both hands, your thumbs brushing away the tears that have already begun to fall. His rambling is cut off as you rise onto your toes.
A gentle kiss on his lips.
Soft. Loving.
Tear-streaked and real.
Jungkook exhales shakily against your lips, his whole body melting into yours. His hands find your waist, holding onto you like you’re the only thing keeping him upright.
The kiss is slow, there's no urgency. Just you and him, emotions bare. Tears continue to slip down your cheeks, mixing with his, salty and warm, but neither of you pull away. Because in this moment, there’s no need for words.
When you finally pull away, your forehead rests against his, both of you breathing heavily, your tears still wet against each other’s skin. Jungkook’s grip on your waist is firm as if afraid to let go. His lips part to speak, but before he can, you whisper,
“You’re not a terrible husband, Jungkook.”
Jungkook’s eyes glisten with more unshed tears, his lips pressing into a thin line, unable to speak. You wipe his tears away with your thumbs, offering him the smallest smile. “Just… love me better, okay?”
His throat bobs as he swallows hard, nodding again, more determined this time. “I will.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but you believe him.
You press one last gentle kiss to his cheek before stepping back, glancing at the cake still sitting on the counter. “Come on,” you say, nudging him lightly. “Let’s cut this before it melts.”
Jungkook lets out a breathy chuckle, wiping at his face as he nods. He steps beside you, his hand instinctively finding yours again as you both move toward the small cake. The two of you cut into it together, Jungkook’s fingers lacing through yours around the knife handle. He doesn’t let go, even as you both take small bites in comfortable silence.
Once the plates are cleared, you tug at his wrist, nodding toward the bedroom. “Come to bed?”
Jungkook exhales, relief washing over his features as he nods. “Yeah.”
A few minutes later, you’re both under the covers, warmth surrounding you as Jungkook pulls you against his chest. His arms wrap tightly around you, his breath fanning against the top of your head as he whispers,
“I love you.”
This time, you don’t hesitate to say it back.
“I love you too, Jungkook.”
And for the first time in weeks, you fall asleep in his arms, where you’ve always belonged.
Jungkook’s fingers still tremble against your skin. Even as he holds you, his grip is laced with hesitance, a silent fear lingering beneath the warmth of his touch. It’s in the way his hands press into your back yet remain careful, as if he’s afraid of holding on too tightly.
You can feel the erratic thud of his heart beneath your palm, his breaths uneven, his chest rising and falling as if he’s struggling to keep himself steady.
And something about that, about him—makes your own heart ache.
Slowly, you lift your head from his chest, your eyes locking onto his in the dim glow of the room. His lips part slightly, his gaze unreadable, but the moment you lean in, his breath catches.
You kiss him.
It starts soft, so gentle, full of longing. Filled with everything you can’t put into words.
Jungkook melts into it instantly, his grip on you tightening, pulling you impossibly closer. The warmth of his lips, the slight hitch in his breath when you press harder. It sends a familiar heat curling through you.
The kiss deepens, your fingers gripping his t-shirt with urgency, needing to feel more. It’s desperate, heady, the space between you charged with something deeper than just want—something raw, something that had been missing for too long.
Jungkook pulls back gently. His forehead stays pressed against yours, both of you panting softly, but his hands shake slightly as they hold you in place.
His lips part, his breath uneven. “I… we shouldn’t…” He swallows hard, voice thick with hesitation. “I mean… I don’t want you to think I’m gonna fix this with sex.”
His words cut through the haze of warmth between you, pulling you both back in reality. You understand. Because even now—even now, he’s afraid. Afraid that this isn’t enough, that he isn’t enough.
Your eyes soften as you take in his hesitance, the uncertainty in his gaze, the way his breath trembles against your skin.
You reach up, your fingers threading gently through his hair. “I’m never gonna think like that, Kook,” you murmur, your voice quiet but sure.
His lips part slightly, his brows still knitted in concern, but before he can say anything, you lean in again. This time, the kiss is softer, filled with nothing but love.
You linger for a moment, your lips brushing against his as you whisper, “I just… I need you.” Another soft kiss. “Please.”
Jungkook exhales sharply, his entire body shuddering under the weight of your words.
And just like that, whatever hesitation he had left—it’s gone.
Your breaths grow uneven as your lips move against his, the heat between you intensifying with every passing second.
You tug at his shirt, a silent plea, and Jungkook obeys without question, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. Before he can think, you pull him back in, capturing his lips in another deep, hungry kiss.
Jungkook shifts, his body hovering over yours, his weight pressing down just enough to make you feel him. His hands slip beneath the oversized t-shirt you’re wearing, his touch still hesitant, fingertips ghosting over your waist like you're nothing less than fragile.
A quiet groan escapes him, his hands finally exploring freely, pressing against your skin, feeling the warmth beneath his palms. His lips leave yours only to trail down your neck, his breath warm as he presses soft, lingering kisses there.
You shiver when he reaches the collar of your shirt, your own hands moving to help him remove it. Dark, love-filled eyes roam over every inch of your skin, his lips parting slightly, as if he’s trying to find the words but nothing he could say would ever be enough. Still, he tries.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, voice thick with awe. “So fucking perfect.”
Your breath catches when he lowers himself again, his lips planting soft, reverent kisses along your collarbone, trailing lower over your shoulder, your chest. Your husband's mouth mapping you like you’re something sacred.
His lips slowly wrap around one breast, his tongue flicking teasingly before sucking softly. A moan escapes you, your fingers tangling into his hair, tugging lightly as he hums against your skin. His other hand moves to your neglected breast, his thumb brushing over the sensitive peak as he keeps mouthing sweet nothings against you.
“You’re everything,” he whispers between kisses, his voice muffled against your skin. “I love you so much, baby.”
And as the heat between you builds, his touch grows bolder. A desperate whimper escapes your lips as your fingers tangle deeper into Jungkook’s hair, your body arching toward him, silently pleading for more.
He groans against your skin, the sound low and warm, vibrating through you. “Patience, baby,” he murmurs, pressing another lingering kiss to your chest before trailing lower, his lips tracing the curves of your body. “Let me take my time… let me make love to you.”
The way he says it, love—makes your stomach tighten, your heart aching as much as your body craves him. His hands glide down your waist, slow and purposeful, before slipping between your legs. His fingers find the damp fabric of your panties, pressing just lightly enough to make you gasp. Your hips lift instinctively, chasing his touch, and Jungkook groans at the feeling.
His dark eyes meet yours, silently asking for permission. You nod, unable to form words, and that’s all he needs.
Hooking his fingers into the waistband, he tugs your panties down, dragging them slowly along your legs before discarding them somewhere behind him. His gaze never leaves you as he lowers himself further, trailing kisses down your stomach, over the sensitive skin of your hips.
He settles between your legs. You feel completely bare under his intense gaze, the way his lips part slightly, his eyes darkening as he drinks you in.
“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice filled with something reverent, something devoted. His hands spread your thighs wider, his thumbs brushing along your skin in slow, soothing circles.
“My wife.”
The words send a shiver down your spine, making your core clench in anticipation.
Finally, he closes his mouth around you. One long, slow stroke of his tongue, and you fall apart instantly, a breathless moan slipping from your lips as your head tilts back against the pillows.
Jungkook hums against you, pleased, his hands gripping your thighs as he licks another slow, teasing stripe through your folds. “So fucking sweet,” he groans, the heat of his breath against your slick skin making your body tremble. “Gonna make you feel so good, baby.”
He isn't just making love, he's devouring you.
Jungkook hums against you, the vibration sending a shockwave of pleasure up your spine. His hands grip your thighs, holding you open as his tongue moves with slow, deliberate strokes. learning you all over again, savoring every little gasp and shudder that escapes you.
“Jungkook—” Your voice is breathless, almost pleading, your fingers tightening in his hair, tugging him closer.
He groans at that, the sound reverberating through your core as he laps at you with more purpose. His tongue flicks over your clit, teasing, testing, before he sucks gently, making your back arch off the bed.
“Fuck—” You whimper, your thighs threatening to close around his head, but his strong hands keep you spread wide, completely at his mercy.
His lips brushing your sensitive skin as he pulls back just enough to look up at you. His lips are slick, his dark eyes burning with desire.
Your cheeks burn, he dives back in, this time with more urgency. His tongue moves in tight circles, alternating between slow, teasing strokes and deeper, firmer licks that have your breath hitching.
One hand slides up your stomach, fingers splaying across your skin before reaching your breast, rolling a nipple between his fingers. The combined sensation makes your thighs tremble, a moan tearing from your lips as your hips buck against his mouth.
Jungkook groans, clearly enjoying how responsive you are, his grip on you tightening as he eats you out like it’s his last meal. He flicks his tongue over your clit again, then sucks, harder this time, sending sparks shooting through your body.
“-fuck, Jungkook—” Your head tilts back, eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure builds, coiling tight in your stomach.
He pulls back just enough to murmur against you, “You gonna cum for me, baby?”
The heat inside you is unbearable now, hot and consuming. You nod desperately, your moans spilling freely as you grip his hair, your body teetering on the edge. Jungkook doesn’t stop. He pushes you closer, his mouth working you over with expert precision, his hands holding you steady as your body starts to tremble.
“Come for me, baby,” he whispers against your heat. “Let me taste you.”
And with one final flick of his tongue, you shatter. Pleasure crashes over you, your back arching, thighs trembling as you moan his name like a prayer. Jungkook groans, drinking in everything you give him, his hands stroking your body as he helps you ride it out.
Only when your body goes slack does he finally pull away, pressing soft kisses against your inner thighs, his voice thick with pride and adoration. “You’re so perfect,” he breathes between kisses, his voice thick with adoration. “My love. My wife.”
Jungkook moves up, trailing kisses along your body, over your stomach, your ribs, your collarbone. When he reaches your lips, he captures them in a deep, languid kiss, his hands cradling your face like you’re something fragile, something cherished.
Your fingers roam over his chest, tracing the lines of his muscles before moving lower, brushing over his abdomen until you reach the hardness straining against his sweats.
A groan rumbles from his chest at your touch, his hips twitching into your palm as you cup him, feeling just how ready he is.
“Baby…” he breathes against your lips, voice thick with want. You tug at the waistband of his pants, wordlessly asking for more. Jungkook obliges, sitting back just enough to push them down, kicking them off entirely.
He’s fully hard, the sight of him making your stomach tighten, heat pooling between your legs again. But before you can even reach for him Jungkook takes your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. The intimacy of it overwhelming.
His other hand moves between your bodies, guiding himself to your entrance, his eyes locked on yours, searching, making sure-
With a final nod from you, he pushes in, slow and careful, stretching you inch by inch.
A soft moan escapes your lips, but Jungkook kisses you instantly, swallowing the sound, his own groan muffled against your mouth as he sinks deeper. The moment he’s fully inside, he stills, pressing his forehead to yours, breathing you in. And as he holds you close, as your bodies mold together so seamlessly, you realize- this isn't just sex.
This is home.
Jungkook moves slowly, each roll of his hips deep and deliberate, as if he’s trying to make up for every moment he let slip away. His body is pressed flush against yours, warmth seeping into every inch of your skin, his breath shaky against your lips as he kisses you between each movement.
Your fingers dig softly into his back, nails pressing just enough to ground yourself in the overwhelming sensation of him. One hand moves to his hair, your fingers threading through the strands, tugging gently as his lips travel from your mouth to your jaw, down your neck, planting soft, lingering kisses that make your heart ache.
It’s slow, it’s deep, it’s love.
A feel a faint tremble against your body.
Something warm and wet against your neck where Jungkook has buried his face.
Your breath catches as realization dawns- he’s crying. Tears gather in your own eyes without warning, the sheer weight of the moment crashing over you all at once.
You tighten your hold on him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as you press a soft kiss into his hair. “Kook…” you whisper, your voice barely holding steady.
He shudders at your touch, at the way you hold him, like you’re not just letting him fall apart but falling apart with him.
“I—” His voice cracks as he exhales shakily, his thrusts faltering for a moment. “I’m so sorry, baby.” His lips find your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he presses kisses there—apology after apology, praise after praise.
“You’re everything to me,” he murmurs between kisses, his words thick with emotion. “You always have been.” A tear slips down your cheek as you cup his face, guiding him up until his forehead rests against yours.
“I know,” you whisper, voice trembling. “I know, Jungkook.”
His lips crash against yours again, the kiss slow and deep, his movements resuming, gentle but full of something raw, something unspoken. His hands grip your waist tighter, his body moving in perfect sync with yours, as if this moment is rewriting everything.
“I’ve got you,” you whisper, voice laced with love. “I’ll always have you.”
Jungkook shudders, gripping you tighter, his lips pressing against your shoulder, his movements slowing but never stopping. You can feel the love in every touch, every kiss, every whispered breath against your skin.
And when the pleasure builds to its peak, you come undone together, your bodies melting into one as waves of warmth crash over you. His name spills from your lips, his deep groan following right after, his arms holding you so tight you swear he never plans on letting go.
Silence lingers, only the sound of heavy breathing filling the space. Then, Jungkook shifts, lifting his head just enough to press the softest kiss to your lips.
“I love you,” he murmurs, voice hoarse but full of devotion. “I don’t deserve you… but I swear, I’ll spend my life proving that I do.”
You cup his face, your thumb brushing away the remnants of dried tears. “Just love me like this, Jungkook,” you whisper, voice steady. “That’s all I need.”
His hands tightening around you as his forehead presses against yours. “I’ll love you more,” he vows, his voice breaking slightly. “More than this, more than anything. Always.” His words settle deep in your chest, warm and real, and when he pulls you impossibly closer, tucking you into his arms, you believe him.
His heartbeat is steady now, no longer frantic with fear. Just warm, solid, home.
As sleep begins to pull you under, you hear him whisper one last thing against your hair.
; Synopsis: The Jeon Clan is Family, built on blood and loyalty. It’s been an unspoken fact that one day you will marry the heir to the Clan, Jeon Jungkook. You would be a fool to deny that you love him, but what happens when you meet a blue haired man who offers you a chance at normality?
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↣ 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | explicit language and sexual content. 18+ to read.
↣ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 22.9k
↣ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you thought you could escape the past but jeon jungkook doesn’t know how to let go.
↣ sequel to tell me no lies ↢
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The trees flitter and shake between the howls of wind that gust through the nipping air. Somewhere between the chaos of blooming fall and the almost setting sun does a young man walk down the concrete path. He walks with a limp, a cane in his right hand guiding his steps. Trees stand stout yet tall on each side of the path that leads up to the hospital doors. The man pauses, a boxy smile peaking on his face as he cranks his face towards the window on the 5th floor, 6 windows to the right.
He pats the breast pocket of his black suede trench coat. There, he pulls out a pair of brown thick-rimmed sunglasses and fits them just above the broad end of his nose bridge where they sit snug over his chocolate eyes. He takes a forefinger to the left side of the temple where the screw holds the rim attached. His thumb rests on the apple of his cheek as the side of his index finger lightly turns the screw. He hears the soft buzz of the zoom, his vision through the sunglasses adjusting closer to the window. It’s his luck that the room is lit and the blinds haven’t been closed quite yet. He sees you, a tray in hand as you walk towards the man in the hospital bed. He continues to watch, observing the way the man smiles back at you when you set the tray of food down on the table that sits between the window and his bed. The observing man readies himself. His index now moves to the top of the screw where a button is present. He sees you face the window now, stretching your arms to the top of the curtains. The man hovers over the button, pressing down only halfway for the image to come into focus. For a moment, he thinks you may have seen him when it seems like you’re looking directly at him. He promptly presses down on the button, a quiet click sounding as it would on an actual camera.
“I’ve got you now.” He says to himself, his smile growing to an eerie grin as he watches you drape the curtains closed.
Time moves fast in hospitals– or at least it feels that way to you, sitting in the Doctor’s office with your legs crossed, glass panes gleaming and sunlight too bright to bear. It's been over a year since Jungkook walked out of your apartment and into the autumn night. Some days it feels like yesterday; most days it feels like a lifetime ago.
“I swear time couldn’t go any slower right now,” Namjoon drags out the words laced in frustration. You sit in stunned silence at how he protests to even your inner thoughts. He leans back in his chair with a groan, the toe of his shoe tapping impatiently against the sterile tile floor. The clock above the door ticks loud enough to grate on your nerves, each second dragging longer than the last. You try to count them, but lose track somewhere past thirty, your eyes drifting instead to the maze of reflections in the glass panes.
Just as Namjoon opens his mouth to complain again, the door finally clicks open. The doctor steps in, clipboard tucked under his arm, his face carefully arranged in that unreadable mask you’ve come to dread.
He offers a polite nod. “Sorry to keep you both waiting,” he says, settling into the chair across from you.
Namjoon exhales through his nose, a strained smile barely covering his impatience. “What do you have for us, doc?”
The doctor gives a sympathetic dip of his head before glancing down at his notes. His voice softens. “The experimental treatment given to Mr. Jung Hoseok was… mostly successful.”
“What do you mean mostly?” Namjoon almost hisses.
"Well– the first dose of the trial medication stabilized his vitals, but the results weren't as consistent as we had hoped." The doctor shifts in his chair, tapping the edge of the clipboard. "As you know, we were only able to identify the mass during the third round of imaging, it took us far longer than we'd have liked. The treatment has slowed its progression, but there are side effects and we won't know the extent of them for another few months. For now it's fatigue, muscle weakness… but he is awake."
The words hang in the air, heavy. You don’t realize you’ve been holding your breath until it rushes out. You lean forward. “Awake?” Your voice cracks. “As in- he can talk to us?”
The doctor nods once. “He’s conscious, responsive. Though he’ll need assistance for now.”
And that was enough for you all, until it wasn’t anymore.
The months that followed blurred into a rhythm of hospital visits and hollow routines. You moved through them the way you moved through water. It’s slow, heavy, and you never quite reach the surface. Some nights, you didn't reach it at all.
You think if you close your eyes hard enough, maybe just maybe you’d cease to exist.
3.
2.
1.
You let out all the air in your lungs, and your eyes bulge out. When the panic settles, you’re at complete and utter peace. But it doesn’t last for too long. Just as your vision goes dark and you let the water fill your lungs until there is nothing left of you, you wake up with a loud gasp.
“Woah, bad dream?” The voice seems distant yet all too familiar. It’s the voice of your very dear friend. It’s the voice of Hoseok.
You remember where you are again when your eyes hit the panelled ceiling. The metal grids give way to beaming lights subdued by frosted plastic, reminding you of the place you have basically called home for the last year. For as much money as it is to keep him here, you would be the first to admit Hoseok definitely has the best room in this hospital.
“I guess.” You let out a shaky breath and push up, palms flattening against the mattress as you swing your legs over the side. Bittersweet. Hoseok watches you with that careful tilt of his head, like he’s cataloguing your frayed edges. You don’t know that he’s wondering when your spirits had gotten so low. To him, you’ve always been the light of the group, though little did he know, you’d think the same of him.
You sigh once more and face towards him, brows now strewn together, a serious expression crossing your face until a question lodges in your throat.
“Are you afraid to die?”
It’s a heavy subject you’ve introduced, and you feel the room grow silent as Hoseok ponders over your question. Perhaps it’s because he’s so close to death itself that he doesn’t have to give it much thought for too long. He simply purses his lips and shakes his head ‘no’ in response. Maybe proximity to the edge makes it easier to answer; maybe he’s already rehearsed this.
Not a day has gone by since he woke up that you haven’t thought about how to say goodbye to Hoseok. Your friend is still very ill. Maybe that’s why you’ve grown so much resentment towards the world. It’s hard to wrap your head around but you try not to think about it often because he’s here right now, conscious and most importantly alive.
Hoseok’s hospital bed is quite different from the hospital bed the nurse put in the room for you. It’s quite different from yours as it’s actually hooked up to something- a lot of somethings at that. A nasal cannula is stuffed up his nose, attached to two giant tanks of oxygen and for a brief moment, it pangs you to see him like this. You’ve lost count of the wires that seem relentlessly stuck to his body, working tirelessly just to keep him afloat. Sometimes you wonder if it would have been better to let go than to see him struggle like this. But you’d never share this thought out loud, shuddering at yourself for even thinking it just now.
“It’s inevitable, _____.” A weak hand waves in the air as he tries to continue explaining his thoughts. “If not now, it’ll happen eventually- to all of us, so why be scared?” His voice is airy, quiet and less vibrant than you remember it being.
“The after-stuff,” you prompt. “What do you think happens after?”
He smiles the kind of smile you remember from before the sickness: small, stubborn and heart-shaped. “The after-stuff is whatever you want it to be.”
It’s then that Namjoon chimes in as he walks into the hospital room, a tray of hospital food in his hands. You already know whatever he’s about to say will be utter rubbish. “Well, _____ some people swear you’ll wake up in paradise, rivers of milk and honey, endless peace. Others think you’re reborn, spinning through life again and again until you finally get it right. There are even people who say we just…merge with the light, some kind of cosmic energy.” He pauses, smirking as he shifts the tray in his hands.
“Or if you’re like me, you know that there’s nothing waiting. There’s no heaven, no reincarnation…just dirt and silence.” It’s said in poor taste, and you see Hoseok frown in response.
“I didn’t realize I was asking you.” You say, deadpan at how ridiculous he sounds. “I didn’t realize the Christopher Hitchens was a part of our friend group.” To this, Hoseok snorts weakly and reaches over for the remote that controls his bed. You watch as he pushes a button that allows the headboard to elevate, letting him sit up in bed. Namjoon strides towards him, swivelling the tray attached to the hospital bed in front of Hoseok before placing the steaming bowl of rice porridge on the tray. A side of white kimchi follows, but Hoseok merely pushes it aside. Your stomach growls in response, realization setting in that you haven’t had anything to eat today. Granted, you haven’t had much of an appetite for a while.
Namjoon simply ignores you and stretches out a hand. “Come, _____, we’ll grab you something to eat too.” You reluctantly agree. Though your stomach is angry, rumbling the weight of Thor’s hammer itself. You can’t find the strength to leave Hoseok alone for even 10 minutes.
It strikes you as you walk the hallway that it's only two of you now. The halls feel wider without Jimin's nervous energy filling them. He stopped answering the group chat three months ago. He moved cities, changed his number, and you don't blame him, not really. After the heist, the guilt ate at all of you differently. Jimin just let it swallow him whole.
When you reach the hospital’s food court with Namjoon, it hums with the low chatter of visitors and the clatter of trays. By the windowsill, Yoongi sits hunched over his laptop, brows furrowed, tongue pressed against his cheek in the way that means he’s deep in code or trouble– maybe even both. He’s always damn up to something. He hasn’t noticed you yet, fingers tapping in sharp, relentless bursts. A knot of unease coils in your chest.
Namjoon doesn’t hesitate, steering you toward him. “C’mon,” he mutters, nodding at the empty chairs. Yoongi glances up as you approach, eyes narrowing briefly before he snaps the laptop half-shut, like he’s guarding secrets. Still, he kicks out a chair with his foot in silent invitation.
Namjoon orders a big bowl of pasta for you, sliding a tray into your hands before you can protest. It’s a rose cream pasta and the first bite is so rich and velvety it almost knocks the air out of you. For a brief moment, you forget everything—Hoseok’s labored breaths, the sterile walls and the gnawing fear. You just sit there savoring the food. Who knew hospital chefs could cook up a mean pasta? Enough about the pasta. You tell yourself as you stab into it. Then you look at Namjoon, at Yoongi, at the two constants who’ve dragged you through hell and back, and you can’t help the bitter thought: it’s crazy that you still keep these sacks of shit as your friends after everything they’ve put you through.
You twirl another forkful of pasta, pretending not to notice how Yoongi keeps one hand planted on the lid of his laptop, guarding it like a vault. Still, curiosity prickles.
“So…” you start carefully, tilting your head. “What’s got you looking like you’re about to declare war on that keyboard?”
Yoongi smirks faintly but doesn’t answer you right away. He leans back, eyes flicking to Namjoon. “She doesn’t know?”
Namjoon sighs, running a hand down his face. “Not yet.”
Your fork clinks against the bowl. “Know what?”
Yoongi drums his fingers on the table, weighing his words. “Another job.”
Your stomach lurches. “You’ve got to be kidding.” And just like that, you’ve lost your appetite. The pasta might as well be ash on your tongue. You shove the bowl forward, porcelain clattering against the tray, and the screech of your chair rips through the food court as you push back in one frantic motion. A few heads turn but you don’t care as you grab your tote bag and storm off past the rows of tables, through the automatic doors, and out into the back courtyard. The air hits different here. It’s crisp, carrying the faint scent of disinfectant masked poorly by trimmed hedges and damp grass. Patients wheel slowly along the paved paths, loved ones trailing beside them with soft voices and careful hands. Laughter bursts from a child chasing bubbles near the fountain, a cruel contrast to the storm churning in your chest.
You drop onto a bench beneath a bare tree, the tote bag slumping against your feet. You feel sick.
“_____!” You groan out loud, the sound ripping from your chest as you shove yourself up from the bench. Twisting toward him, you see Namjoon striding across the courtyard, hands jammed into his pockets like he’s trying to anchor himself.
“Are you fucking serious, Namjoon?” The words spill out harsher than you intended, but you don’t reel them back. “After everything? After the mess you dragged us into already? Are you out of your fucking mind?” A couple nearby patients turn their heads, but Namjoon doesn’t slow. His jaw tightens, his footsteps steady until he stops just a few feet away.
“We need the money.” Namjoon’s voice is flat, but there’s a tremor under it like a rope fraying.
“Fuck the money!” You snap, springing to your feet. Your palms ball into fists at your sides. “No wonder Jimin fucked off to wherever the fuck— I’m surrounded by a bunch of selfish—”
“Selfish?” Namjoon’s voice rockets up to match yours, and suddenly neither of you gives a damn who’s listening. He takes a step forward, chest heaving. “You’re calling me selfish? After everything? After the nights we slept in shifts keeping him breathing, after the loans we sold our souls for? Everything we’ve done has been for each other. For Hoseok. Just because your little fling got complicated doesn’t change that.”
You point, the finger shaking. “Hoseok is dying, Namjoon!“ Silence drops between you, heavy and suffocating, broken only by the squeak of a wheelchair rolling past and the low murmur of a caregiver. “The money didn’t fix him before and it’s not going to fix him now.” You hate that you’re a crier when you’re angry and you hate it even more that you’re now crying in public as the words spew without reason. “And don’t you dare minimize what happened. You’re lucky Jungkook didn’t put us in jail.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Namjoon snaps back, eyes rimmed with exhaustion. “Do you remember what the oncologist said? The treatments found what's been killing him and they slowed it down, yeah and guess what? He’s awake. Has been for 8 months. Time and medicine cost money. This isn’t about some adrenaline rush anymore. This is about buying him time to be lucid one more week, one more month. You’d rather let that slide because what? You feel guilty about Jungkook?”
Your shoulders sag and your bottom lip quivers as you look at him, defeated.
“I’m not minimizing it,” he says quieter, too tired to keep yelling. “But does that mean we bury Hoseok because we can’t live with our choices? Is that the line you’re gonna draw?”
“So we become worse thieves for one life?” You sit back down, dragging the heel of your hand across your cheek to wipe the tears away. “We used to have purpose. Now it’s just… wrong. All of it. We’re clutching at a thread that’s already frayed.” You meet his eyes. “I can’t do it anymore, Namjoon.”
For the first beat, something like shame flickers across his face. Then he clasps his hands together like he’s trying to hold himself in. “It’s not logic,” Namjoon admits, the words raw. “It’s desperation. And yeah, maybe it’s stupid. Maybe it’ll ruin us. But if I had a choice between sitting in this courtyard pretending we did the right thing or giving him a chance to walk again– I’ll take the chance.”
Around you, a nurse huffs past pushing a cart; a child squeals near the fountain. Life goes on indifferent to how you break. You want to argue until your voice shreds, but the furious words dissolve into air. The truth is bitter, small, and undeniable. It settles between you both and the reality is that you’re all out of clean options. Hoseok is dying, and Namjoon’s grasping at straws to save his best friend.
Namjoon straightens, jaw clenched. “I can’t promise it won’t hurt us more. I can’t promise anything but we have to try. We do this one right, and then we get out. No more risks after. I swear it to you.”
You look at him. In his face you see sleepless nights, math done in the dark, the same stubborn loyalty that once made him the one you could lean on. It’s not enough to make you agree. But it’s enough to make your anger hiccup into a different kind of ache.
“How much money is it this time?” you ask, your voice small.
“Half a billion dollars.”
Your mouth goes dry.
“How the fuck are we going to do that?”
An hour later, you're back in the hospital room, sitting by the window across from Namjoon, who's excitedly bouncing back and forth as he explains.
“It’s this thing called Obsidian and this shit, _____, it works. It really works, and the best part is, it’s completely untraceable.”
You nervously look over at Hoseok, who's sound asleep in the center of the room. You don't understand why this is being discussed right now but here you are. You can't lie, his excitement is undeniably contagious but despite it all, it's crazy.
Yoongi, who'd been quiet until now, looks up from where he's been fiddling with his phone. His tone is flat. "No one gets a magic bullet. Obsidian’s privacy features are strong. It's designed to hide sender, receiver, and amounts, but 'completely' is a stretch. Obsidian adds obfuscation layers, but there are still technical limits, market realities, people trying to map transactions. Nothing's foolproof."
Namjoon waves his hand as if swatting at Yoongi’s caution. “Still. Compared to bank transfers or the usual rails, this is the closest thing to disappearing a trail. If we move smart, if Yoongi can work the ledger-side…we can buy ourselves distance.”
You stare at them both, the words twisting in your chest. Hope and dread tangle when you realize the plan feels like a lifeline and a razor at once. Hoseok shifts faintly in his sleep, machines humming softly around him.
“We’d be gambling on a lot more than just code,” Yoongi says finally. “Half a billion moves markets. There are legal heats, exchanges, and people who make a living unpicking this stuff. It’s possible, but it won’t be clean.” The uncertainty in his tone makes your stomach drop.
Namjoon swallows and, for the first time, his bravado flickers. “We don’t have clean options,” he says, quiet. “Not anymore. This is just…our best shot.”
Silence settles over the room, thick and suffocating.
You drag a hand down your face before looking back up at them. “So what’s the plan?” Your voice is steadier than you feel. “Because we can’t afford messy. Not with this kind of money.” You glance at Hoseok, then back at them. “Jail would be the least of our problems.”
Namjoon and Yoongi exchange a quick and loaded look.
“It’s not a smash-and-grab,” he says. “It’s a transfer. It has to be quiet and scheduled.” He taps his phone, then turns it so you can see a grid of timestamps, nodes- something far too complex to fully grasp. “There’s a window. Eight minutes, maybe less, where their system mirrors itself for auditing. That’s the gap.”
Namjoon leans in, voice dropping. “It’s happening during a private event. Invitation-only. High security. It’s the kind of place no one questions money moving because everyone there has too much of it.”
A bad feeling creeps up your spine. “And we just…walk in?”
Namjoon doesn’t answer right away.
Yoongi does. “We don’t all walk in.” His eyes lift to meet yours. “We need one person inside. Someone who can blend. Someone who won’t get flagged. Someone who’s invited.”
The room feels smaller. “And you think that’s me?”
Namjoon’s silence is answer enough.
Your stomach drops. “Why me?” The question comes out sharper than you intend. It feels like déjà vu, and you’re so damn tired of being the guinea pig in their plans.
Another look passes between them and this one you don’t miss.
Yoongi exhales through his nose. “Because of who’s hosting it.”
Your pulse spikes. “Who?”
Namjoon finally says it.
“Jungkook.”
The name hits like a physical blow. For a second, you swear the machines in the room grow louder, sharper. Hoseok shifts in his sleep, completely unaware of the way your world just tilted.
Namjoon presses forward, urgency bleeding into his voice. "After the Gemini merger went through, GFC exploded. He's not just running a production company anymore– he's sitting on a media conglomerate. The gala is for his parent fund. He's tied to the company moving the funds, front-facing, the whole deal. What matters is you have a way in that none of us do."
“A way in?” You let out a hollow laugh. “I stole nearly three million dollars from him– actually, we did, Namjoon– and now you want me to steal from him again?” Your voice rises despite yourself before you force it back down. “Are you guys out of your minds?”
“Exactly,” Yoongi mutters. “Which means he remembers you.”
“That’s not a good thing!” you snap, exasperated.
“It means you won’t be invisible,” Namjoon says. “And right now, invisible people don’t get into rooms like that. Plus he sent an invitation.”
You stare at him, disbelief morphing into something sharper. “So your plan is to walk me into a room full of elite, powerful people– his room– and hope he doesn’t decide to ruin my life on the spot?” Why would Jungkook invite you?
Namjoon doesn’t flinch. “My plan is to get you close enough to access what we need. Eight minutes. That’s all.”
“Eight minutes,” You repeat. “We failed last time. How can I trust you this time? And what if he recognizes me?”
“He will,” Yoongi says bluntly. Your throat goes dry as your gaze drifts back to Hoseok.
Your fingers curl against your sleeve as you watch him breathe.
“…Then I have a condition.”
Namjoon stiffens. “This isn’t exactly–”
“It is,” you cut in, quieter now, but firm. “If I’m doing this, I’m not doing it your way.”
Yoongi studies you. “What do you want?”
You don’t look at them when you say it.
“Hoseok comes with me.”
The silence that follows is different from the others. It's not heavy with guilt or grief but bewildered and almost offended. You can feel Namjoon's stare boring into you without looking.
"He can barely stand," Namjoon says slowly, as if explaining something to a child.
"I know what he can barely do." You finally meet his eyes. "But if I'm walking back into that man's life to rob him again, Hoseok is going to know exactly what we're doing and why. No more secrets. No more pretending this is noble while he sleeps through it." Your voice doesn't waver. "He deserves to see what his life is costing us. And if he tells us to stop, we stop."
Namjoon opens his mouth. Closes it. His jaw works like he's chewing on glass.
Yoongi is the one who speaks. "That's a hell of a condition."
"It's the only one I've got."
It takes you three days to work up the nerve.
Three days of rehearsing speeches in the shower, of mouthing words into the bathroom mirror that dissolve the second you try to hold them. Three days of sitting at Hoseok's bedside, watching him sip broth through a straw, laughing weakly at whatever variety show is playing on the mounted TV and swallowing the confession each time it crawls up your throat.
On the fourth morning, you arrive earlier than usual. The hallway is quiet, the nurses mid-shift change, and you carry two cups of vending machine coffee that you know Hoseok isn't supposed to have. It's a peace offering. Or maybe a bribe. You're not sure there's a difference anymore.
He's already awake when you nudge the door open with your hip, propped up against the elevated headboard with his eyes fixed on the window. The morning light catches the hollows of his cheeks, the sharpness of his jaw that used to be softer, rounder. He looks like a pencil sketch of the person you grew up with all the right lines, just thinner.
"You're early," he says without turning. His voice carries that raspy quality it has before noon, like his body needs a few hours to remember how to be alive.
"Couldn't sleep." You set both cups on his tray table, nudging one towards him. He eyes it, then you, a brow lifting.
"Is that coffee?"
"It's a vending machine's best interpretation of coffee."
He takes it anyway, wrapping both hands around the paper cup like it's something precious. You watch his fingers as they appear thinner than they should be, the knuckles more pronounced. He catches you staring and you look away too quickly.
"You've been weird," Hoseok says.
You blink. "What?"
"Weird. Weirder than usual." He takes a careful sip, wincing at the taste but drinking again anyway. "You keep looking at me like you're trying to memorize my face. And you chew your lip when you're holding something back– you've been doing that since high school." He gestures vaguely at your mouth with the cup. "You're doing it right now."
You release your bottom lip from between your teeth. Damn him.
A silence stretches, filled only by the rhythmic beep of his heart monitor and the distant squeak of a cart rolling down the hallway. You pull the chair closer to his bed, the metal legs scraping against the floor. When you sit, your knees are almost touching the bed rail.
"Hobi," you start, and the nickname alone shifts something in the room. You only use it when things are serious, and he knows that. His expression doesn't change, but you notice the way his fingers tighten around the cup. "I need to tell you something. And I need you to let me finish before you say anything."
He regards you for a long moment, lips pressed together, before he gives a single nod.
You don't start where you expected to. You thought you'd begin with the plan, with Namjoon's blueprints and Yoongi's flash drives and the clinical structure of it all. Instead, what comes out is Jungkook's name.
"I fell in love with someone." The words feel foreign and familiar at once, like a language you used to speak fluently. "His name is Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. He's– he was my boss. CEO of a film production company." You pause, tracing a scratch on the bed rail with your thumbnail. "I was supposed to be a distraction. That's all and those were Namjoon's word, not mine. Get close, earn his trust, keep his attention somewhere else while Yoongi and Jimin did their thing."
Hoseok's brow furrows, but he stays silent. Honouring his promise.
"But I fell for him, Hobi. Completely. Stupidly. The kind of falling where you don't realize it's happening until you're already at the bottom." You swallow hard. The coffee in your hand has gone lukewarm but you grip it tighter. "He took me to a carnival. Won me a stuffed penguin. Named it Lyara— said it was a name for a future daughter." A breath shudders out of you. "He told me he loved me, and I said it back, and I meant it. I meant every syllable."
Something shifts behind Hoseok's eyes. It’s not judgment but something closer to ache.
"And then I robbed him."
The words drop like stones into still water. You watch the ripple cross Hoseok's face. It’s confusion first, then a slow, dawning understanding that rearranges his features entirely.
"We took two and a half million dollars," you continue, your voice flattening into something mechanical because if you let yourself feel it now, you'll never finish. "The Gemini Pictures merger… Jungkook's company was about to become one of the biggest production firms in the industry. We stole the deal. Yoongi hacked the system, Jimin and I broke in at night. I used a secret entrance Jungkook had shown me in confidence. I used his password, which was the date we first met, to access his computer." You pause. "He'd changed it to that date because it mattered to him. And I used it to steal from him."
Hoseok's jaw tightens. He sets the coffee cup down carefully, deliberately, the way you set down something when your hands need to be free.
"He found out with security cameras we missed. He showed me the footage over a dinner I cooked him– sat across from me with flowers and an envelope and watched me unravel." You're not crying yet, which surprises you. Maybe you've cried it all out. Maybe the numbness has finally won. "He said it was never about the money. That I stole his dignity, his trust. Everything." A beat. "He didn't press charges. He just… left."
The heart monitor beeps. Beeps again. The sound is maddening in the silence.
"Why?" Hoseok's voice is barely above a whisper. It's the first word he's spoken, and it cuts deeper than any sentence could.
You look at him, really look at him. At the nasal cannula, the oxygen tanks, the constellation of wires that tether him to the machines keeping him alive. At the boy who used to outrun all of you, who danced until his shoes wore through, who laughed so loud it filled whatever room he was in.
"For you."
The silence that follows is not like the others. It doesn't settle, it detonates. Hoseok's face doesn't crumble the way you expected. It hardens. You watch something cold move across his features, something you've never seen directed at you in all the years you've known him.
"For me," he repeats. Not a question.
"Your medical bills were–"
"I know what my medical bills are." His voice is quiet, but the edges of it are bladed. "I see the invoices. I'm sick, _____, not blind." He shifts in the bed, the movement costing him visible effort, and you instinctively reach forward to help. He stops you with a look. "Don't."
Your hand hovers, then retreats.
"So let me get this straight." Hoseok's breathing has quickened, the cannula hissing faintly with each inhale. "You, Namjoon, Yoongi and Jimin— my best friends— decided to become thieves. To steal from people. To ruin someone's life." He holds up a trembling hand when you open your mouth. "I said let me finish."
You press your lips shut, the irony of your own request being turned against you not lost.
"You fell in love with this man. And then you robbed him. While he was falling in love with you." He lets the words breathe, each one more surgical than the last. "And the whole time, I was unconscious. I had no say. No vote. You just decided—all of you— that my life was worth more than your souls and you never once thought to ask me if I agreed."
The tears come now. Of course they do.
"Hobi–"
"Who asked you to?" The question snaps out of him with a force that startles you both. The heart monitor spikes briefly, a nurse peeks through the window before Hoseok waves her away with a shaking hand. He waits until the footsteps recede before he speaks again, quieter now, but no less sharp. "Who asked any of you to do that for me?"
"Nobody had to ask!" Your voice breaks open, raw and desperate. "You're our family, you were dying, Hoseok, and we couldn't just–"
"You turned yourselves into criminals for me," he says, and the way he says it flat and disbelieving, almost disgusted. It carves a hollow in your chest. "You destroyed a man who loved you. For me. And I didn't even get to say no."
A sob wracks through you, ugly and uncontrolled. You press the heel of your palm against your mouth, trying to contain it, but it spills through your fingers like water. Hoseok watches you cry. He doesn't reach for you. He doesn't soothe you. For the first time in your friendship, he lets you sit in it.
When your breathing steadies to something resembling functional, Hoseok speaks again. "And now?" He tilts his head, eyes narrowing with a sharpness that reminds you he was always smarter than any of you gave him credit for. "You didn't come here just to confess. There's something else."
Of course he knows. The realization almost makes you laugh– a watery, broken thing. You drag your sleeve across your face.
"Namjoon has another plan. And it’s bigger, way bigger." You force yourself to hold his gaze. "Half a billion dollars. And it’s tied to Jungkook's company." You watch his eyes widen, his lips parting. "I told them I wouldn't do it unless you knew. Unless you were there. And unless you had the right to tell us to stop."
Hoseok stares at you for a long time. Long enough for the light in the room to shift, the morning sun climbing higher past the blinds, painting warm stripes across the foot of his bed. His jaw works, lips pressing and releasing. You can see the war behind his eyes and the fury wrestling with something else, something softer and more complicated.
"You want to take me to a gala," he says slowly. "Me." He gestures at himself with the wires, the tubes, the hospital gown. "Looking like this."
"I don't care what you look like."
"That's not the point and you know it." He exhales, the sound rattling in a way that makes your stomach clench. He looks towards the window, the curtains still drawn from where you'd closed them the night before. "Do you still love him?"
The question catches you off guard, an ambush from a flank you hadn't defended. Your mouth opens and then closes. You think of the carnival, the Ferris wheel, fireworks reflected in Jungkook's dark eyes. You think of Lyara the penguin, waterlogged and drenched on your apartment floor. You think of the blue plastic ring.
"Yes." It comes out barely audible. "I don't think I ever stopped."
Hoseok closes his eyes. The heart monitor beeps its steady rhythm, indifferent to the weight of what's unfolding.
"Then you need to know something." He opens his eyes, and when they meet yours, the anger has dimmed. What remains is something older and steadier. The Hoseok who held your hair back at parties, who proofread your essays at 3am, who once drove four hours in a thunderstorm because you called him crying. "If I let you do this… if I agree to be part of whatever the hell this is– it's not so you can steal from him again."
Your brow creases. "Then what—"
"It's so you can tell him the truth." His voice is firm despite its fragility, carrying a conviction that his body can no longer match. "About me. About why. About everything." He holds your gaze, unyielding. "You said he asked why, and you couldn't answer. This is your answer, _____. I am."
The simplicity of it winds you.
"If we walk into his world," Hoseok continues, "I'm not going as your alibi or your excuse. I'm going so he can see what you were trying to save. And then he can decide for himself whether it was worth what you took from him." He pauses, chest rising with a laboured breath. "That's my condition. Not Namjoon's money. Not Yoongi's code. The truth."
You stare at him, this man held together by machines and sheer will, and you realize that in trying to save his life, you forgot to account for who he actually is. He’s not a cause nor a justification but a person. One with more moral clarity in his deteriorating body than the rest of you have managed with your healthy ones.
"And if I tell him the truth," you say quietly, "and he still hates me?"
Hoseok's expression softens. For the first time since you started talking, you see the ghost of his heart-shaped smile but it’s not the full thing– just the scaffolding of it. It’s enough to remind you it still exists.
"Then at least he'll hate you for who you really are. Not for who he thinks you are."
You exhale. It feels like the first real breath you've taken in a year.
"And if Namjoon…"
"I'll deal with Namjoon." There's a glint in Hoseok's eye, something almost mischievous buried beneath the exhaustion. "He's not going to like it. But the last time I checked, it's my life you're all wagering with. I think that earns me a seat at the table."
You look down at your hands. They've stopped shaking. When you look back up, you reach for his hand gently, careful of the IV line taped to his wrist. He lets you take it this time. His fingers are cold, thinner than they should be, but they tighten around yours with surprising strength.
"I'm sorry, Hobi." The apology sits differently now. It's not the performative kind you've been rehearsing. It's stripped bare, a thing with no armour.
He squeezes your hand once. "I know." A beat. "But you owe that apology to someone else more than you owe it to me."
You nod, because he's right. He's so devastatingly right.
Outside the window, behind the curtains neither of you can see past, the autumn wind picks up. Somewhere on the path below, a young man in a black suede trench coat tucks his camera glasses into his breast pocket and pulls out his phone.
He dials. The line picks up on the second ring.
"She told him everything," he says, his boxy smile pulling wide. He pauses, listening. Then: "No, not yet. But she will."
A voice on the other end, quiet, measured.
"Understood, Mr. Jeon. I'll keep you updated."
The line goes dead. Kim Taehyung pockets his phone, adjusts the grip on his cane, and walks back towards the parking lot. The first leaves of autumn skitter across the concrete behind him, carried by a wind that seems to know exactly where it's going.
Namjoon doesn't take it well.
You expect this, of course. You've known him long enough to read the weather patterns of his anger. The tight jaw comes first, then the nostril flare, then the deadly calm that precedes the storm. What you don't expect is for Hoseok to be the one holding the umbrella.
It happens the following evening. You're the one who texts Namjoon, a simple 'come to the hospital.' With no context or softening. He arrives within the hour, Yoongi trailing behind him with his hands buried in his hoodie pockets and his laptop bag slung over one shoulder. They enter Hoseok's room expecting a logistics meeting. Instead, they find Hoseok sitting upright in bed– truly upright, not the half-reclined slouch he usually settles for. The TV is off and the overhead lights are turned to full. It feels less like a hospital room and more like a courtroom.
"Sit down," Hoseok says.
Namjoon glances at you. You're already seated by the window, arms crossed, offering nothing. He pulls up a chair, the legs squealing against the tile. Yoongi claims the far corner, perched on the windowsill with his legs dangling. He has the look of someone who already suspects what's coming.
"She told me." Three words. Hoseok lets them land without a cushion, watching the impact register on Namjoon's face. To his credit, Namjoon doesn't flinch. But you see it, the barely perceptible tightening around his eyes and the way his fingers flatten against his thighs.
"Told you what?" Namjoon asks. It's not denial. It's a test– he wants to know how much.
"Everything." Hoseok holds his gaze. "RED Hotel. Jungkook. The two and a half million. The fact that four people I'd take a bullet for became thieves while I was unconscious, and nobody thought to mention it once I woke up."
The room goes vacuum-sealed. You hear the oxygen tank hiss beside Hoseok's bed, marking time in soft, mechanical breaths. Namjoon's jaw works. You recognize the motion as he's building an argument, assembling it brick by brick behind his teeth.
"Hoseok–"
"I'm not done." Hoseok's voice carries an authority you haven't heard from him in years. It's faint, sure and it’s carried on compromised lungs and thinned breath. But the steel in it is unmistakable. Namjoon's mouth closes. "I know why you did it. I understand the reasoning. I even understand the math." He gestures faintly toward the machines flanking his bed. "Trust me, nobody in this room is more aware of what it costs to keep me alive than the person it's actually costing."
The guilt hits all three of you simultaneously. You see it in the way Yoongi's gaze drops to his sneakers and Namjoon's throat bobs with a hard swallow.
"But you didn't ask me." Hoseok's eyes are glassy now, though nothing falls. "Not once. Not before the first job, not before Jungkook, not before any of it. You decided my life was worth whatever it cost and you took that decision away from me." He pauses, the effort of sustained speech visible in the rise and fall of his chest. "I'm the one dying, Joon. Don't I get a say in what people destroy to keep me here?"
Namjoon leans forward, elbows on his knees, head dropping between his shoulders. For a long, terrible moment, you think he might cry. Namjoon doesn't cry. You've seen him through breakups, through his father's funeral, through the night Hoseok collapsed and the ambulance took twenty-three minutes to arrive. He didn't cry then. He’s organized, he’s planned, he’s calculated. Crying was a luxury he never permitted himself.
He doesn't cry now either. But it's close. When he raises his head, his eyes are red-rimmed, his voice stripped of its usual command.
"What was I supposed to do?" The question is so raw, so unlike the Namjoon who always has an answer, that it physically hurts to hear. "Watch you die? Sit in that waiting room and count ceiling tiles while they told us you had weeks?" His voice cracks on the last word. He catches it, swallows, presses on. "There was no version of this where I did nothing. I couldn't– I can't do nothing. Not when it comes to you."
The confession unpins something in the room. Yoongi turns his face toward the window, his reflection caught in the glass with a tight jaw and distant eyes. You wonder if he's thinking the same thing you are: that Namjoon never once framed this as anything other than a mission, a plan, a stratagem. Never once admitted that underneath the blueprints and the bravado, it was just a man terrified of losing his best friend.
Hoseok exhales a long, thin whistle through the cannula. "I know," he says, and there's no anger left– just a bone-deep weariness. "I know you can't do anything. It's the most annoying thing about you." The faintest crack of a smile, gone as quickly as it appears. "But here's what's going to happen."
Namjoon straightens. You see him shift instinctively into listening mode, the same posture he adopts when a plan is being laid out. Old habits.
"I'm going to the gala," Hoseok says as if he's announcing he's going to the cafeteria. Matter-of-fact and decided. "Not as a prop. Not as your sick friend who justifies everything. I'm going because _____ owes someone the truth and she's not going to do it alone." His eyes find yours and hold. "And I'm going because if this is what my life is costing, I want to look the price in the face."
Namjoon opens his mouth–
"I'm not finished." Hoseok's hand raises, trembling but firm. "The job goes forward. I'm not going to pretend I can stop you, you're all too stubborn and too stupid for that." The faintest ghost of warmth in his voice. "But the truth comes first. Before Yoongi touches a keyboard, before anyone transfers a single won, _____ tells Jungkook why. She shows him me. And if after he knows, if after he sees what you were trying to save, he still wants us gone? We go. We walk away. No arguments. No contingencies."
"That's—" Namjoon starts.
"Non-negotiable." Hoseok meets his stare, unflinching. "You stole two and a half million dollars from that man to pay for my heartbeat. I think the least I can do is show him the heart."
The silence that follows is so absolute, you can hear the fluorescent lights humming above you. Namjoon sits motionless, eyes locked with Hoseok's. Something passes between them that you've only ever witnessed a handful of times. It’s a form of communication that predates the rest of you, rooted in a friendship that started before any of yours did. They were friends first. Before the group, before Jimin, before Yoongi, before you. That foundation carries a weight none of you can overrule.
Namjoon's shoulders drop but not in defeat, in concession. He nods once. "Okay." The word costs him more than the half a billion ever could.
Yoongi speaks for the first time. "For the record," he says from his corner, still facing the window, "I think this is the best idea any of us has had in two years." He turns, and there's something close to respect in his gaze when it settles on Hoseok. "You should've been calling the shots the whole time."
Hoseok smiles and it’s the real one this time, heart-shaped and warm, though it sits on a face too thin to hold it properly. "Yeah," he says. "I should've been."
Two weeks before the gala, your life becomes a choreography of preparation and pretense.
Yoongi sets up a command center of sorts in Hoseok's hospital room, much to the displeasure of the nursing staff. His laptop occupies the guest table, flanked by two additional monitors he smuggled in inside instrument cases. The wires snake across the floor like veins, taped down in haphazard lines that one particular nurse has tripped over three times. You've started leaving her apology chocolates at the nurses' station.
"The system mirrors for exactly seven minutes and forty-three seconds," Yoongi explains one afternoon, pointing to a diagram on his screen that looks like a subway map designed by a lunatic. "During that window, the auditing protocol creates a duplicate ledger. We intercept the mirror, redirect the funds through a series of Obsidian wallets layered on the platform’s blockchain, and by the time the mirror collapses, the money's been scattered across so many nodes it would take a forensic team six months to trace a single transaction."
"And you can do all of that in seven minutes?" You lean over his shoulder, squinting at the screen.
"Seven minutes and forty-three seconds," he corrects. "And no. I can do it in four."
"Then why do we need eight?"
"Because four minutes is for the transfer." He taps a second diagram. "The other four are for you."
You frown. "Me?"
"You need to physically access a terminal at the event. The system requires biometric confirmation from an authorized user to initiate the mirror. A fingerprint scan." He looks at you over the rim of his glasses. "Jungkook's fingerprint."
Your stomach bottoms out. "You want me to get his fingerprint."
"I want you to get him to touch a screen," Yoongi clarifies, pulling up an image of what looks like an ordinary phone. "This. It's a modified device, looks like a standard tablet. The screen captures biometric data on contact. All you need to do is get him to interact with it. Hand it to him, show him something on it. Thirty seconds of contact is all I need."
"You want me to hand Jungkook, a man I robbed and whose heart I broke— a tablet. And have him casually press his finger to it."
"Ideally his thumb." Yoongi's tone doesn't change. "Index works too."
You stare at him until he has the decency to look uncomfortable. From across the room, Hoseok snorts.
The suit fitting happens on a Tuesday.
Namjoon arranges it through a contact, someone who doesn't ask questions and makes house calls to hospitals. The tailor arrives with a rolling rack and a measuring tape draped around his neck like a stethoscope. The irony isn't lost on any of you.
Hoseok hasn't stood unaided in months, but he insists on being upright for the measurements. It takes both you and Namjoon to help him from the bed, his arms draped over your shoulders, legs finding the floor like a newborn colt. The tailor politely pretends not to notice the IV stand trailing behind his client.
"Charcoal or navy?" the tailor asks, unfurling fabric swatches.
Hoseok studies them with more intensity than a dying man should reasonably dedicate to colour theory. "Black," he says finally.
"Black wasn't an option," Namjoon mutters.
"It is now." Hoseok stands a little straighter, the effort whitening his knuckles where they grip the bed rail. "If I'm going to a party to show some billionaire what his money paid for, I'm not doing it in charcoal."
You press your lips together to keep from laughing, but the sound escapes anyway, a wet, breathy thing that's half humor and half grief. The tailor measures him with clinical efficiency: inseam, shoulders, waist. Each number feels like a subtraction, a quantification of how much of Hoseok has been whittled away. His waist is narrower than yours now. The tailor doesn't comment.
When it's your turn, the process is quicker. Namjoon has procured a gown that’s floor-length, deep emerald, with a neckline that suggests elegance and a back that suggests intention. You try it on in the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror under fluorescent light that does no one any favours.
You barely recognize yourself, and it’s not because of the dress, but because of the eyes staring back at you. They're harder than you remember. More guarded. The woman who fell in love with Jungkook at a carnival had softer edges. You wonder if he'll notice.
When you step out, Hoseok is back in bed, but he wolf-whistles, breathy and weak and absolutely ridiculous. And for a single, perfect moment, it feels like old times.
"Stunning," he says. "He won't know what hit him."
You smooth the fabric over your hip. "That's what I'm afraid of."
The days leading up to the gala pass in a strange twilight of hyperactivity and dread. Yoongi runs simulations. Namjoon drills contingencies. Hoseok practices walking.
This last part guts you more than anything else. Every morning, you watch him grip the parallel bars the physical therapist set up along the length of his room, knuckles bone-white, jaw set, legs quaking beneath him as he forces one foot in front of the other. The cannula trails behind him, the oxygen tank wheeled alongside by a patient nurse who's learned to match his agonizing pace. Ten steps the first day. Twelve the second. By the end of the first week, he makes it to the door and back.
He doesn't complain. Not once. Not about the pain, not about the exhaustion that collapses him back into bed afterward, not about the indignity of a twenty-six year old man celebrating the fact that he walked fourteen steps. When you catch him grimacing after a session, he flattens his expression the instant he notices you watching.
"Stop looking at me like that," he says one evening, breathless and sheened with sweat.
"Like what?"
"Like I'm going to break."
You hold his gaze. "Are you?"
He considers this for a moment, genuinely, then shakes his head. "Not yet."
By the second week, he can manage twenty steps with a cane. It's enough. It has to be.
Twelve hundred kilometres away, in a penthouse suite that overlooks the city from the forty-second floor, Jeon Jungkook stands at the floor-to-ceiling window with a glass of whiskey he hasn't touched.
The city below pulses with light and arterial reds of brake lights, the gold spill of storefronts, the cold blue wash of office buildings still lit past midnight. It's beautiful in the way that expensive things are beautiful: perfectly maintained and utterly soulless.
He hears the elevator chime behind him but he doesn't turn.
"She told him," Kim Taehyung's voice carries across the marble floor, accompanied by the rhythmic tap of his cane. "Everything. The first heist, you, the money. All of it."
Jungkook's reflection stares back at him in the glass, translucent, ghostly against the cityscape. He's changed in the year since he walked away from her door. His hair is shorter, cropped close at the sides and pushed back from his forehead. The softness that once rounded his cheeks has sharpened into angles. He looks older. Not in years but in something harder to quantify.
"How did he react?" Jungkook asks. His voice is even, controlled. It’s the voice of a man who's spent twelve months learning how to discuss her without flinching.
Taehyung settles onto the leather sofa behind him, stretching his bad leg out with a wince. "Angry. He didn't know any of it. They kept him in the dark the entire time." He pauses.
Jungkook is quiet for a long time. The ice in his untouched whiskey has melted, the amber liquid diluted to pale gold. When he finally speaks, his voice is stripped back, nearly inaudible.
"He's dying. Has been for a while." Taehyung's voice loses its professional edge, softening into something more human. He and Jungkook are friends before they are business associates and have been since Taehyung took a bullet in Busan five years ago that left him with a permanent limp. Jungkook paid for his rehabilitation without being asked. Loyalty, between them, is a currency that predates money.
Jungkook closes his eyes. Behind his lids, he sees her. Not the woman who sat across from him at the dinner table, leafing through surveillance photos with trembling hands. He sees the woman he fell in love with ice cream on her lip, laughing at something he said.
"I hired you to find out why she did it," he says quietly. "I hired you to get them close enough so I could look her in the eye and understand. That's all I wanted. An answer." He finally lifts the glass, taking a sip of the watered-down whiskey. It's weak and bitter, and he grimaces but drinks again anyway. "I didn't plan for this."
"For what?"
"For a reason that makes sense." He sets the glass down on the sill, harder than necessary. The sound pings across the silent penthouse. "It was supposed to be greed. Something I could be angry at.” He swallows. "Not a dying man in a hospital bed."
Taehyung watches him carefully. "Does it change anything?"
Jungkook doesn't answer immediately. He reaches into his pocket and pulls something out— a small, circular object that catches the city light. A bright blue plastic ring. The paint has faded, chipped in places, but he's kept it. This entire time, he's kept it.
He turns it between his fingers, studying it the way one studies a relic from a past life.
"It changes everything," he says finally. "And nothing. She still lied." He pockets the ring again. "But now I know she had a reason. And that might be worse."
"Worse?"
Jungkook looks at Taehyung, and for the first time, the mask slips. Underneath is not the CEO, not the conglomerate head, not the man with his name on buildings and gala invitations. Underneath is a boy with doe eyes who fell in love with the wrong person and hasn't figured out how to fall back out.
"Because I could've helped her." The words land like a confession of their own. "If she had just told me about her friend, about the money, about any of it— I would've helped. I had the resources. I had the means. She didn't have to steal from me." His voice frays at the edges. "She chose to rob me instead of trust me. And I don't know which one hurts more."
Taehyung is silent for a long time. "The gala is in six days."
"I know."
"Namjoon's team is prepping. Your security detail has their profiles. We can intercept at any point."
"No." Jungkook turns from the window, eyes hardened with resolve. "Let them come. I need them to do this for me.”
Taehyung nods, rising from the sofa with a lean on his cane. He studies Jungkook for a moment, then turns for the elevator. He stops halfway, speaking over his shoulder. "For what it's worth," he says, "I don’t think you’ve left her mind."
"Maybe." Jungkook's voice is barely a whisper. "But eventually she’ll have to leave mine."
The elevator doors close. Jungkook stands alone in the penthouse, the city sprawled beneath him like a circuit board, every light a connection, every dark space a severance. He thinks of a password he once set: eight digits, a date, a beginning. He wonders if endings have dates too.
The night of the gala arrives the way all inevitable things do, too quickly and not quickly enough.
You're in Hoseok's room, the emerald gown pooling around your feet as you sit on the edge of his bed, holding a tube of lipstick you can't seem to apply with steady hands. The room has been transformed over the past two weeks with Yoongi's command center now humming in the corner, three monitors glowing with data feeds and communication channels. A garment bag hangs from the curtain rod, Hoseok's black suit pressed and waiting.
Namjoon arrives in a charcoal suit that fits like an apology. He hasn't said much in the days since Hoseok laid down his terms, operating with a quiet efficiency that you've come to interpret as his version of penance. He runs through the plan one final time with Yoongi over comms, voice low and clinical, stripped of the bravado that used to characterize these briefings. Something has changed in him. The desperation is still there, but it's been tempered, reined in by the leash of Hoseok's conviction.
"Comms check," Yoongi says from behind his monitors, an earpiece tucked into his right ear. He'll be stationed in a service van two blocks from the venue, running the operation remotely. "Radio silence unless absolutely necessary. _____, your frequency is channel 3. Namjoon is on standby at channel 7. If anything goes sideways—"
"It won't," Namjoon interrupts. He meets Yoongi's stare. "It can't."
Yoongi holds his gaze for a beat, then nods.
The hardest part is getting Hoseok ready.
It takes forty minutes. You help him into his shirt first, guiding his arms through the sleeves with the gentleness of handling something irreplaceable. Namjoon handles the trousers, steadying Hoseok's legs as he steps into them one at a time, both of them pretending it's not a struggle. The jacket goes last, and when Hoseok is finally dressed, standing between the two of you in his black suit, cane in one hand, cannula removed for the first time in months, you almost lose your composure entirely.
He looks beautiful. Devastatingly, impossibly beautiful. The suit hangs on his diminished frame in ways the tailor couldn't fully compensate for, the shoulders a touch too wide, the waist pinched with an extra fold of fabric. But his face– his face is alive. His eyes are bright, focused, burning with a determination that his body has no business supporting. He looks like a man who has decided, with absolute finality, that he is not done yet.
"How do I look?" he asks, adjusting his cuffs with fingers that only shake a little.
"Like hell," Namjoon says.
Hoseok grins fully, heart-shaped and radiant. "Perfect."
A portable oxygen concentrator has been arranged that’s small enough to fit in a bag and discreet enough to pass unnoticed. The doctor fought against this expedition with considerable force, relenting only when Hoseok signed a release form with the calm resignation of a man who's already made peace with every possible outcome. The nurse attached a pulse oximeter to his finger with a look that said everything her professionalism wouldn't allow.
The car waits at the hospital's rear exit. Namjoon drives. You sit in the back with Hoseok, his hand in yours, his cane propped between his knees. The city slides past the tinted windows in streaks of light and shadow. None of you speak. The silence is too full for words and weighted with everything you're about to do, everything you've done and everything that can't be undone.
Hoseok squeezes your hand once. You look at him.
"Whatever happens in there," he says quietly, "you just need to tell him the truth." His eyes hold yours, steady despite the exhaustion pulling at their edges. "Promise me."
You squeeze back. "I promise."
The car pulls to a stop. Through the window, you see it, the Grand Meridian Hotel. Its façade bathed in gold light, a procession of black cars depositing glittering figures onto a red carpet that bleeds into the lobby. The building reaches into the night sky like a monolith, its upper floors disappearing into low-hanging clouds. Security lines the entrance in tailored suits, earpieces catching light.
Namjoon kills the engine. In the rearview mirror, his eyes find yours.
"Eight minutes," he says. "That's all we need."
You hold his gaze. "No," you say quietly. "That's all you need."
You step out of the car first, the autumn air biting through the silk of your gown. You turn and offer your hand to Hoseok. He takes it, rising from the car with a controlled effort that costs him more than anyone watching would ever guess. His cane clicks against the pavement. He steadies himself, lifts his chin, and for a moment, just a moment, you see the Hoseok from before. The one who lit up every room. The one who made you believe that sheer force of joy could outrun anything, even death.
The two of you stand together at the base of the steps, staring up at the golden doors. Music drifts out with a string quartet, something classical and expensive. Laughter follows, the tinkling kind that belongs to people who've never had to choose between rent and groceries.
Hoseok glances at you. "Ready?"
You think of Jungkook somewhere inside those walls. Of the love you once shared, although now one-sided.
"No," you answer honestly.
He smiles. "Good. That means you care."
Together, you climb the steps. Hoseok's cane taps a steady rhythm against the stone, one, two, one, two- a metronome counting down to something neither of you can predict. Your hand stays on his arm, steadying. The doorman opens the gilded entrance without a word.
Warmth engulfs you. Light, sound, perfume, the shimmer of crystal and the murmur of a hundred conversations layered over strings. The ballroom opens before you like the throat of some magnificent, glittering beast. Chandeliers hang like frozen constellations. Men in tuxedos and women in gowns orbit each other in practiced elegance, champagne catching light in their hands. It’s the kind of wealth that you only see in the movies.
A waiter materializes at your elbow with a tray of champagne flutes, and you take two without thinking, pressing one into Hoseok's free hand. He accepts it with a look that says he has no intention of drinking it and every intention of using it as a prop.
"Smile," he murmurs, lips barely moving. "You look like you're calculating an exit route."
"I am calculating an exit route."
"Do it while smiling."
You smile. It feels like something you're wearing, like the gown, like the earrings that are already beginning to pinch. Hoseok's arm is warm beneath your hand, and you focus on that, on the solidity of him, as you move deeper into the ballroom's current.
The room works the way these rooms always do, pulling people into its orbit through some unspoken social gravity. A couple drifts past you, trailing perfume and quiet laughter. A man in a tuxedo gestures broadly at nothing, making a point no one will remember. Somewhere to your left, a woman's necklace catches the chandelier light and throws small stars across the ceiling.
Yoongi's voice arrives in your ear, low and even. “Perimeter looks clean. Security rotation is every four minutes on the east corridor. Namjoon's in position near the main stairs. You have time.”
You search the crowd of elites and suck in a breath when you see him.
Across the room, half-turned from you, a glass of something dark in his hand. His hair is shorter than you remember, pushed back from his forehead in a way that sharpens the line of his jaw. He's mid-conversation with a silver-haired man, nodding at something being said, his posture carrying the easy authority of someone who owns the room and every wall around it.
Your body responds before your brain can intervene. Heat blooms across your chest, your pulse spiking in places that have nothing to do with fear. You know this reaction, in fact you know it intimately. You know it from every time he walked into a room, every time his hand found the small of your back and every time he had you pinned underneath him with slow, deliberate drags of his– no. You can’t go there. A year of distance has done nothing to rewire it. Your body still recognizes him as something it wants, and the betrayal of that recognition makes your skin burn.
Your breath catches. Your fingers tighten around Hoseok's arm.
Jungkook hasn't seen you yet. Or maybe he has. You can't tell from here whether the slight tension in his shoulders is for you or for the conversation. That is before a woman joins in. She’s breathtakingly gorgeous, a red gown ten times more luxurious than the one you’ve adorned. Her dark hair falls behind her open back in curls, and what takes you most aback is the way Jungkook lights up when he sees her- gently placing a small peck against her cheek.
Something sharp and ugly twists in your chest. You have absolutely no right to feel it, and you feel it anyway.
Hoseok follows your gaze across the room. He studies the man who funded his heartbeat without ever knowing it. The man you robbed, loved, and lost.
"He's tall," Hoseok observes quietly, a faint note of something unreadable in his voice.
You can't bring yourself to respond. Your heart is hammering so violently, you're certain Hoseok can feel it through your arm.
And then, as if summoned by the weight of your stare, Jungkook turns.
As you loosen your grip on Hoseok’s arm, you’re met by the vibrant and bright chocolate doe eyes of Jeon Jungkook while he holds her the way he once held you.
And the world goes quiet. The music fades. The chatter dissolves. There is only the distance between you, forty feet of marble floor, a year of silence, and every unspoken word that fills the space between.
The look he gives you isn't anger. It isn't warmth. It's the look of a man taking inventory of something he lost. His gaze traces from your eyes to your mouth, lingering there for a beat that makes your skin prickle, before dropping to the emerald neckline and back up. You feel it like a physical thing, like fingers dragging across your collarbone or how soft and careful his kisses were, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.
He doesn't move. Neither do you.
The woman in red places a hand on Jungkook's arm, saying something you can't hear. He doesn't look at her. His eyes stay on yours, and whatever she says dissolves into the noise of the room, unanswered.
"You should go," Hoseok says. Not unkindly.
"I'm not leaving you standing alone."
"I'm not alone." He nods toward the column. "I have this very sturdy piece of architecture." A beat passes. "And Yoongi will talk my ear off if I ask him to."
“He's not wrong,” Yoongi says in your ear, and you almost laugh despite everything.
You look at Hoseok for a moment longer than you mean to. He's watching the room with those bright, tired eyes, his cane resting against the column, champagne held loosely in one hand like a man entirely at ease. He has spent so much of these last months becoming smaller, quieter, reduced by increments. But here, in this borrowed hour, he has made himself enormous again through sheer will alone.
You squeeze his arm once, and he nods without looking at you, and that's enough. You turn. You begin to move through the crowd.
He's not just standing there; he's working. You catch him mid-handshake with a man in a navy blazer, his smile sharp and practiced, and as the man turns away, you see Namjoon's left hand slip something small and flat into his inner jacket pocket. A cloned access badge. He's already halfway through his own mission, running a parallel track you can only glimpse in fragments. His eyes cut to yours for half a second with a flicker of acknowledgment, a silent status report and then looks away. The sight of it settles something cold in your chest.
Eight minutes, he'd said.
Your heels click against the marble. One step. Then another.
Jungkook watches you come.
He moves before you've fully decided to. Or perhaps you move first. Later, you won't be able to say with certainty. What you'll remember is that the distance between you simply begins to close, pulled shut by something older and more stubborn than either of your intentions, and then there are only a few feet of marble between you, and then there are none.
Up close, he is worse.
That's the only word for it. Worse. More real. The year that stretched between you like an ocean has done nothing to blunt the specific way he occupies space, the breadth of his shoulders, the slight asymmetry of his mouth, the way his eyes catch light and hold it longer than they should. He is exactly as you remember and entirely different and both of these things are devastating in their own register.
The woman in red has drifted away. You caught the movement in your periphery, some acquaintance pulling her into a separate orbit, laughing at something, her dark curls disappearing into the crowd. She doesn't know she's given you anything. She doesn't know there is anything to give.
Jungkook's glass is still in his hand. He hasn't looked away from you since you started moving.
"You’re here," he says.
It's not what you expected. You don't know what you expected, something cooler, something with more architecture to hide behind. But those two words come out slightly uneven, fractionally too quiet for the room, and you watch him register that he's said them wrong, too plainly, before his expression closes over it like water over a stone.
"I was invited," you say.
Something moves behind his eyes. "You were."
The space between those words and his next ones is too long. He fills it by dropping his gaze briefly, just a half-second, taking in the emerald gown, the earrings, the lipstick you finally managed to apply with shaking hands in the car. When he looks back up, his jaw is set in a way you recognize. It's the look he gets when he's decided to be careful.
"You look—" He stops. Starts again. "It's good to see you." It isn't what he was going to say. You both know it.
The string quartet shifts into something slower. Around you, the room continues its elaborate performance of itself, glasses lifted, laughter rising and falling in practiced waves, none of it touching the two feet of charged air between you and the man you robbed. The man you loved. The man who is watching you now, like he's trying to solve something, like you are a problem he prepared for and finds himself unprepared for anyway.
Your pulse is very loud.
"Jungkook," you begin, because you promised Hoseok, because there is a clock somewhere running down eight minutes that has nothing to do with why you're really here, because the truth has been sitting in your chest for a year, and it is very heavy. "There are things I need to say to you."
His chin dips slightly. An acknowledgment that isn't quite permission.
"I know," he says.
Something in his tone stops you. Not the words, but the texture of them.
Your eyes search his face. "What do you know?"
He holds your gaze for a beat that lasts too long. His fingers shift around his glass. In another life, in another version of this night, you think he might have reached for your hand instead.
"That you're here," he says finally. "That's enough for now."
It's not an answer. You file that away somewhere and let it sit, because Yoongi's voice is a low murmur in your ear, reminding you of timelines, and across the room Namjoon is still performing his own careful theatre, and Hoseok is leaning against a column with borrowed breath and a champagne glass he won't drink from, and you made a promise.
But Jungkook is looking at you the way he used to, underneath the composure, underneath whatever careful thing he's built around himself this past year. Like you are something he thought he'd finished grieving. You feel like you might break under his gaze. The onslaught of emotions hit you harder than that night he left your house. And you can’t help but crave his touch again.
You look away first. You have to.
There's a pillar to your left and you fix your gaze on it for exactly two seconds, long enough to find the floor beneath your feet again.
Then you look back at him, because you promised.
"Can we go somewhere quieter?" you ask. The ballroom feels like it's shrinking, the string quartet and the laughter and the perfume collapsing inward.
Jungkook studies you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he tilts his head toward a corridor beyond the grand staircase. "There's a terrace."
You nod, and he moves first, setting his glass on a passing waiter's tray without looking. You follow a half-step behind, close enough to catch the scent of his cologne. It’s different from what he used to wear– it’s something darker and woodier. You hate that you notice.
As you pass the staircase, your eyes catch Namjoon's. He's watching you move toward the corridor, his jaw tightening. You give an imperceptible shake of your head. Not yet. His gaze holds yours for a beat too long before he turns back to his conversation, the tension in his shoulders broadcasting everything his face won't.
"She's moving to the east terrace," you hear Yoongi murmur through the earpiece, talking to Namjoon rather than you. "Timeline still holds. Let her work."
The corridor narrows, the noise of the ballroom dimming behind you like a radio being dialled down. Jungkook pushes through a glass door, and the autumn night hits you, sharp and clean against the heat of the gala. The terrace overlooks the city from a height that makes everything below look insignificant.
Jungkook walks to the stone railing and rests both hands on it, his back to you for a moment. You watch the way his shoulders rise with a breath, then drop. When he turns, he leans against the railing, arms crossed, and the posture is so deliberately casual it hurts. He's armouring himself.
"So," he says. "Talk."
The word is blunt, almost clinical, but underneath it, you hear the thing he's actually saying: I've been waiting a year for this. You straighten your spine. You think of Hoseok somewhere inside, leaning against his column, counting the minutes of borrowed breath.
"The night you came to my apartment," you start, your voice thin against the open air. "You showed me the photos. You asked me why." The memory is a blade. You distinctly remember his flowers, the envelope, the surveillance stills scattering across the table. "I couldn't answer you."
"I remember." His voice is flat but his eyes aren't. There's something moving behind them, deep and restless.
"I'm answering you now."
Jungkook doesn't speak. He waits the way a man waits for a verdict he's already tried to accept.
"His name is Jung Hoseok." You say it clearly, giving the name its full weight. "He's my best friend. He's been my best friend since we were fourteen years old." You take a breath that shakes more than you'd like. "He got sick two years ago, and nobody knew what it was. The doctors ran every test, every scan, and came back with nothing. Then the bills started. You can't imagine what it costs to keep someone alive when medicine doesn't even know what's killing them."
Jungkook's expression hasn't changed, but you see the shift. There’s a fractional loosening around his jaw, like a door being unlocked without being opened.
"We were drowning," you continue. "Student loans, medical debt, the cost of keeping him in a hospital that could actually help. Namjoon– you remember Namjoon?" You don't wait for an answer. "He came up with the plan. The first one. Then the second." You swallow. "The second one was you."
A muscle feathers along Jungkook's jaw. His arms stay crossed.
"I was supposed to be a distraction. Get hired as your assistant, keep your attention occupied while they handled the technical side." You force yourself to hold his gaze. "That's all it was supposed to be."
"But it wasn't." His voice is quiet.
"No." The word catches in your throat. "It wasn't. I fell in love with you. I fell in love with the way you held doors open and remembered dates and how you loved me without condition." Your eyes are burning, but you refuse to blink. "I didn't plan on any of it. I didn't plan on you."
Jungkook uncrosses his arms. His hands find the railing behind him and grip it, knuckles whitening. The movement pulls his shirt taut across his chest, and you hate yourself for noticing and hate that even now, even mid-confession, some traitorous part of your brain is cataloguing
the way his jaw catches the moonlight, the column of his throat above his loosened collar. You're telling him about the worst thing you've ever done, and your body is remembering the best things he's ever done to it.
The silence between you is different from the ballroom silence, from the hospital silence, from the silence that fell when Jungkook walked away from your apartment a year ago. This silence has oxygen in it. It has room to breathe.
"March 14th," Jungkook says, very quietly.
"March 14th," you repeat. "I typed it into your computer to steal from you, and I hated myself for knowing it." You look towards him. "He's here," you say. "Hoseok. He's inside."
Something crosses Jungkook's face that you can't fully read; surprise isn't quite it, because it moves too quickly, replaced by something more complex. Recognition, maybe. Like a piece sliding into a puzzle he's been working on in the dark.
"He signed himself out of the hospital to be here tonight. He can barely walk. He has a cane and a portable oxygen concentrator in a bag, and he's wearing a suit that doesn't fit because his body is half of what it used to be." Your voice breaks on the last part, but you keep going because you promised. "He's twenty-six years old, and he's dying, and he's standing in your ballroom right now because he thinks you deserve to know that his heartbeat is the reason I broke yours."
The wind picks up, carrying with it the faint sound of the string quartet from inside, something melancholy, something in a minor key that has no business being this appropriate. Jungkook's chest rises with a deep breath, his fingers releasing the railing.
"Where is he?" he asks.
The question shocks you into stillness. You expected anger, cold dismissal, the same venom that lacerated you at your dinner table a year ago. You braced for impact. Instead, he's asking where Hoseok is.
"By the east columns," you manage. "Near the entrance."
Jungkook pushes off the railing. He takes a step toward the door and then stops, turning back to you. The city lights catch the silver of his cufflinks, the sharp line of his jaw, the look in his eyes that you've never seen before.
"I would love to meet him," he says. "Not for you. For me."
He holds the terrace door open for you, and you walk through it feeling as if you've just stepped off the edge of something with no certainty of where you'll land.
As you pass him in the doorway, the space is narrow enough that your arm grazes his chest. The contact lasts less than a second. It’s silk against cotton, your bare arm against the warmth of him– and you feel it everywhere. His breath catches. Or maybe yours does too. You don’t look at him. You can’t. If you look at him right now, with your defences stripped and his chest warm against your skin, you will do something you can’t take back. You keep walking as he follows.
Yoongi's voice returns in your ear, sharper now. "Fifteen minutes to mirror. _____, where are you? I need confirmation you're moving to the terminal."
"I need a minute," you say to both of them, though only one can hear you.
The ballroom swallows you both back into its machinery. Jungkook walks beside you but not with you, a deliberate distance maintained. You're aware of every inch of it.
You're halfway across the floor when it happens. A voice cuts through the ambient noise, sharp with recognition.
"Wait– don't I know you?"
You freeze. The woman in the red dress you saw earlier with Jungkook has stepped into your path, head tilted, eyes narrowing with the specific intensity of someone rifling through their memory. She's even more beautiful up close with expensive jewellery and the kind of face that attends a lot of industry events.
"You worked at GFC, didn't you?" she says. "Jungkook's assistant?"
Your blood goes cold. Beside you, Jungkook stiffens almost imperceptibly.
"I think you're mistaken," you manage, your voice remarkably steady for someone whose heart has just relocated to her throat.
The woman squints harder. "No, I'm sure of it. The holiday party, two years ago? You were handling the guest list. I remember because you—"
"Mrs. Ahn." Jungkook's voice slides in, smooth and warm, and the interruption is so seamless. He steps forward with a smile that reaches exactly as far as it needs to. "I'm so glad you could make it tonight. Have you met the team from Hana Ventures? I believe your husband was asking about their sustainability portfolio. They're just by the bar." Oh. She’s married. You can’t help but feel relief.
It's a redirection so elegant it borders on art. Mrs. Ahn's attention pivots to Jungkook entirely, her recognition of you dissolving into the social gravity of a CEO's full attention. She brightens, adjusts her necklace, and allows herself to be guided toward the bar with a delighted "Oh, wonderful!"
Jungkook glances back at you over his shoulder as he walks Mrs. Ahn away. The look lasts one second. In it, you read: Stay. I'll be back.
You press your back against the nearest column, heart hammering, and wait. Jungkook returns within two minutes, his composure fully restored, as though rescuing you from exposure is just another item on his host's agenda.
"Thank you," you breathe.
"Don't thank me yet." The words carry a weight you don't fully understand. "Come on. Show me your friend."
You navigate the remaining distance to the east columns. Hoseok is where you left him, still propped against the column with his untouched champagne. His cane is hooked over his forearm while he's watching a couple dance. His expression carries a wistfulness that makes your throat close. From this distance, in this light, in that suit, you could almost forget he's sick.
Hoseok senses your approach. His gaze shifts to you, then past you to the man walking in your wake. His eyes sharpen. He straightens with a conscious effort, drawing every reserve of energy he has to meet this moment upright. He sets the champagne glass on the column's ledge, frees his cane, and faces Jungkook fully.
The two men regard each other across a narrowing distance. You step to the side, because this isn't yours anymore. This is between the man whose life was bought at another man's expense and the man who paid the price without knowing.
Jungkook stops three feet from Hoseok. He takes him in, the ill-fitting suit, the too-sharp cheekbones, the way he leans on the cane with practised subtlety. You watch Jungkook's eyes trace the details the way he used to study you. It’s as if he’s cataloguing, absorbing, trying to understand.
"Jung Hoseok," Hoseok says, extending a hand that trembles just slightly. His voice is steady despite it. "I believe you've been keeping me alive.”
You see the impact land on Jungkook's face like a wave of something cresting and breaking behind his careful composure. He looks at Hoseok's extended hand. Then he takes it.
"Jeon Jungkook," he replies, and his voice is thick. "I wish we'd met differently."
"So do I." Hoseok's grip tightens before releasing. "But if we'd met differently, I'd probably be dead. So I'll take this."
The bluntness catches Jungkook off guard. You watch him blink to recalibrate. Hoseok does that to people and has always done that. Even diminished, even tethered to machines and measured in borrowed months, he has a way of cutting straight to the marrow of a thing.
Hoseok shifts his weight onto his cane, glancing at you briefly before returning to Jungkook.
"You're quite handsome," he says conversationally. "No wonder she's in love with you."
The floor drops out from under you.
"Hoseok!" His name comes out strangled.
"What?" He turns to you with an expression of perfect innocence that has absolutely no business existing on a man in his condition. "It's true."
You look at Jungkook. He is looking at you. You look away.
"He's been on an extraordinary amount of medication," you say, to no one and everyone. "Practically braindead. Medically speaking."
"Medically speaking, I have excellent observational skills," Hoseok replies, entirely unbothered, taking a small sip of the champagne he was never going to drink.
Jungkook lets the silence sit for exactly long enough that you feel every degree of it against your skin. Then, with a grace that costs him something you're certain of, he lets it go.
He turns to Hoseok.
"How are you feeling tonight?" The question is genuine, stripped of the social reflex that usually props up that particular phrase. He means it. You can tell he means it by the way he waits for the answer.
Hoseok glances around the ballroom, at the chandeliers, the gowns, the ancient indifferent wealth of it all. "Great. I haven't been anywhere in months, years some would say. Everywhere starts to look like a hospital ceiling after a while." His eyes return to Jungkook. "This is a very good ceiling."
Jungkook looks up despite himself. The chandelier throws fractured light across his face.
"It is," he agrees quietly.
Something passes between them that you don't entirely have access to. Two people negotiating the strange territory of a connection that has no map, no precedent and no name for what they are to each other.
"I wanted to meet you," Hoseok says. "That was the other reason I came tonight." He pauses. "She didn't know I was going to say that. She'd have talked me out of it."
"I absolutely would have," you confirm.
Jungkook's gaze moves to you then, briefly, warm in a way that undoes something small and load-bearing inside your chest, before returning to Hoseok. "I'm glad you did."
Hoseok nods slowly, as if this confirms something he suspected. He studies Jungkook for a moment with those bright, tired eyes, the same way he studied the ceiling of his hospital room on bad nights.
"You should talk," Hoseok says, looking between you both. "Really talk." His eyes flick almost imperceptibly toward your earpiece before coming back. "Because you owe it to each other."
A chill rolls through you. Time is ticking and quite frankly, you can’t think of how you’re going to pull this off.
"I'm going to find a chair before my legs stage a mutiny," Hoseok says, straightening with effort. He gives Jungkook a final look. It’s warm with a shot of exhaustion he can no longer mask. "Thank you for meeting me. Whatever you decide…about her, about all of this, I wanted you to know that your money bought time. And I used that time to wake up." He smiles, the heart-shaped one. "That's not nothing." He turns, cane tapping a steady beat against the marble, and you watch him walk toward a chair near the far column. A waiter approaches and Hoseok waves him off politely.
You turn back to Jungkook. He's watching Hoseok too, his expression caught between something shattered and something mending.
"Jungkook–" you start.
"Not here." His voice is rough. He drags his gaze from Hoseok's retreating figure back to you. His eyes are wet. "Come with me."
He doesn't reach for your hand. He simply walks, and you follow.
Jungkook takes you through a service corridor that the guests don't see. It’s past stacked chairs, and folded tablecloths, and the muted clatter of the kitchen beyond a swinging door. The noise of the gala dims to a muffle. He stops in a narrow hallway lit by bare bulbs.
He turns to face you. In this light, stripped of the ballroom's gilding, he looks younger. Closer to the boy you met on March 14th. His collar is still open, and in the bare light you can see the faint sheen of sweat at the base of his throat. You wonder if its nerves, or the heat of the ballroom, or something else entirely. You force your gaze upward.
"I need to tell you something," he says. His voice is steady but his hands aren't. You see them at his sides, fingers curling and uncurling. "And you're not going to like it."
Your blood cools. "What?"
He meets your eyes. "This gala. The invitation. You being here tonight." A pauses for a beat. "It wasn't coincidence."
Your stomach folds in on itself. "What are you talking about?"
"I know about Namjoon's plan." The words drop like stones. "I've known for weeks. The Obsidian transfer, the eight-minute window, the biometric scan. All of it."
The corridor tilts. You feel the wall at your back before you realize you've stepped into it. "How?"
"Because I'm the one who gave it to them."
Silence. It’s the kind that has a sound with a high, ringing pitch that fills your skull.
"I hired someone," Jungkook continues, his voice measured, careful, like he's defusing something. "After that night at your apartment. A private investigator. I needed to understand why. You couldn't tell me, so I went looking for the answer myself." He swallows. “He found your team. He found Namjoon."
Your mind races, tripping over itself. "Namjoon doesn't know," you say, the realization bleeding through the shock. "He thinks this job is real."
"It is real." Jungkook's jaw tightens. "The funds exist. The transfer window is genuine. Everything Yoongi built, everything Namjoon planned, it works. I just made sure I was on the other end of it."
"Why?" The word comes out shredded. "If you knew– if you've known this whole time…why let us get this far? Why let me walk in here and–" Your voice breaks. "Why let me tell you about Hoseok like you didn't already know?"
Jungkook flinches. It's the first true crack in his composure, a visible wound. "Because I needed to hear you say it." His voice drops. "I needed to know if you'd actually tell me the truth this time. Or if you'd just steal from me again."
The words land like a hand against your cheek. It’s not a violent slap per se, more devastatingly soft. Like the way he used to cup it before planting a kiss on your lips.
You stare at him, tears sliding silently, and the worst part isn't the betrayal. The worst part is that you understand. You understand because you would have done the same thing. Maybe you already did.
"So this whole time," you say slowly, "you've been watching us. Watching me. Planning this the same way Namjoon planned the first heist." A bitter laugh escapes you, wet and fractured. "You out-heisted the heist."
"I didn't want to." The urgency in his voice surprises you. He steps closer, and the distance between you shrinks to something dangerous. You can feel the warmth of him, smell the cedar and something underneath it. It’s something that's just him, unchanged and achingly familiar. Your back is against the wall and he's close enough that if either of you breathed too deeply, you'd touch. Neither of you breathes too deeply but neither of you steps back.
"I didn't set out to trap you," he says, and his voice is low enough that you feel it more than hear it. It’s a vibration that moves through the small space between your bodies. "I set out to understand you. And then Taehyung told me about Hoseok, about the hospital, the oxygen tanks, how you sleep in a bed next to his almost every night." His voice wavers. "And I realized you weren't a thief. You were desperate. The same way I was desperate to know why."
His eyes drop to your mouth. Just for a second. Just long enough for you to feel it like a physical touch. You press your back harder against the wall, as if the concrete can anchor you, because every nerve in your body is screaming at you to close the distance and every rational thought is screaming at you not to.
"There's more," he says, pulling his gaze back to your eyes with visible effort. "The half billion you came here to steal, it's not mine."
You blink. "What?"
"The parent fund, GFC Capital,” he starts. “My name's on it. Every press release, every letterhead. But the money inside it isn't clean." His jaw tightens with controlled fury. "Three board members have been siphoning funds through shell companies for two years. Foreign accounts, fabricated invoices, phantom subsidiaries. By the time my forensic auditors flagged it, they'd already moved close to $400 million through channels I couldn't touch without exposing the entire fund which includes the legitimate investors who'd lose everything."
"Your own board has been stealing from you."
"From everyone. Pension funds. Institutional investors. People who trusted GFC Capital with their futures." His voice is cold now, but the coldness isn't aimed at you. "And I couldn't go public because the moment I do, the fund collapses, the stock craters, and thousands of people lose their retirement savings. The corruption has to be excised without killing the patient."
The medical metaphor isn't lost on you.
"So you need someone to move the money," you say slowly, the architecture of his plan assembling itself in your mind. "Someone outside the system. Someone untraceable."
"Someone who's already proven they can get in, take what they need, and disappear." He holds your gaze. "I didn't pick your team because of our history. I picked them because they're good. Yoongi's Obsidian protocol is better than anything my security consultants could design. And Namjoon's operational planning is…" He pauses, a reluctant admission pulling at his mouth. "Annoyingly brilliant."
"So we're not robbing you."
"You're robbing the people who robbed me. And the $500 million you redirect through Obsidian doesn't vanish. It gets funnelled into a forensic trust that my legal team uses to build a case. Every transaction Yoongi routes becomes evidence, every node, every wallet, every timestamp. It's a paper trail that looks invisible from the outside but reads like a confession from the inside."
You stare at him. The magnitude of it settles over you in layers. First, it’s the relief that you're not betraying him again, then the fury that he manipulated you into it, then the grudging, bone-deep recognition that it's exactly what you would have done.
The relief that floods through you is so disproportionate to the moment that it embarrasses you. You press your lips together, looking at the ceiling, and you hear him exhale.
Jungkook’s expression sobers. He reaches into his jacket pocket. His hand passes close enough to your hip that you feel the displacement of air, and what he pulls out makes your breath stop.
A bright blue plastic ring. Faded, chipped, ridiculous. The one you won him at the carnival. The one he wore for the rest of the night because it matched his shirt.
He holds it between his thumb and forefinger, studying it in the bare light. You watch his hands, the same hands that held you, turn it slowly, and your throat tightens with something that isn't only grief.
"I could've helped," he says quietly. "If you had told me about him from the start, I would have helped. I had the money. I had the connections. You didn't have to steal from me." His voice frays. "You just had to trust me."
"I know," you whisper. Because what else is there? He's right. He's been right this entire time, and the most excruciating part is that some desperate, frightened version of you from two years ago knew it too and chose theft over trust anyway.
His hand rises almost involuntarily and his thumb grazes the edge of your jaw. Featherlight, barely there, gone before you can lean into it. The touch lasts less than a second, but it sends a current through you that buckles your knees. He pulls his hand back like he's been burned, fingers curling into his palm.
"Sorry," he says. He doesn't look sorry. He looks wrecked.
"Namjoon and Yoongi," you manage, dragging yourself back from the edge. "Are you going to—"
"Nobody's getting arrested." He says it firmly. "I told you before, it was never about the money. It's still not." He exhales. "But the transfer needs to happen tonight. The way Yoongi designed it."
In your ear, Yoongi's voice returns, oblivious. "Four minutes to mirror window. _____, I need you at the east wing terminal. Where are you?"
You close your eyes.
"What do you need from me?" Jungkook asks you. He looks at you for a long time. The bare bulb flickers once, casting his face in a brief strobe of shadow.
You look down at the purse hanging off your shoulder and unclip it open. From there, you pull out the small tablet Yoongi placed earlier with the calibration screen already on display for his fingerprint.
“Preferably your thumb or index finger.” You repeat Yoongi’s words.
As Jungkook registers his fingerprint, you stare at him. You stare at the ring still in his fingers, the boy underneath the CEO, at the man who kept a worthless piece of plastic in his pocket for over a year because it was the last honest thing you’d given him.
"Go," he says softly, turning the tablet back to you and creating space between you as he steps back. "Clock's ticking."
You go but before you do, Jungkook grabs your wrist and spins you toward him and then his mouth is on yours and every carefully constructed thing inside you comes apart at once.
It isn't gentle. It isn't the kind of kiss that asks permission or makes apologies. It is a year of silence compressed into something urgent and graceless and completely beyond either of your better judgments. His free hand comes up to cup the side of your face with a pressure that says stay even as everything around you is screaming go. You feel the cold of his ring against your jaw and it undoes you further.
You kiss him back. Of course you do. You kiss him back like you've been holding your breath for over twelve months and he is the only available air. Your fingers twisting into the lapel of his jacket, pulling rather than pushing.
He makes a low sound against your mouth. His hand slides from your face to the back of your neck, thumb tracing the line of your jaw on its way. It’s unhurried despite the chaos assembling itself on the other side of the ballroom. You feel the warmth of his palm against your bare skin and your brain goes briefly, completely white.
Then his forehead drops to yours. Both of you breathing, the fraction of space between your mouths charged and unbearable.
His jaw tightens. "I couldn't make myself believe you were only that."
"Jungkook–"
"Go." His voice comes out rough at the edges. He pulls back, not far, just enough to look at you, and what's on his face is the full version of everything he's been carefully not showing all evening. Raw and steady and terrifying in its patience. Like a man who has decided he can wait a little longer now that he knows there's something worth waiting for. "Come back when it's done."
It's the come back that breaks you open.
You release his lapel. You smooth the fabric with your palm out of some automatic instinct toward repair, and his hand falls from your neck slowly but his fingertips last, like he's reluctant to confirm the absence.
You step back. Then another step. Your heels find their purpose again.
"When it's done," you repeat. A promise shaped like an echo.
His eyes hold yours until the crowd swallows you.
The east wing terminal is exactly where Yoongi's schematics said it would be, tucked behind a service door at the end of a corridor branching off the main ballroom. Namjoon is already there, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his charcoal suit jacket unbuttoned. He straightens when he sees you.
"Where the hell have you been?" His voice is a controlled hiss. "Yoongi's been—"
"I know." You cut past him and approach the terminal. A sleek console is embedded in the wall, its screen dark waiting. "I'm here. Let's go."
Namjoon studies you and you hope he doesn’t notice the distinct flush of your cheeks. He has that look, the one that precedes an interrogation. But there isn't time.
"Yoongi," you say into the mic. "I'm at the terminal."
"Finally." His relief is audible. "Placing the tablet on the scanner now, biometric should authenticate in three… two…"
A soft chime. The screen illuminates, casting blue light across your face.
[BIOMETRIC AUTHENTICATION: ACCEPTED]
"We're in." Yoongi's voice accelerates, the flat effect giving way to focused energy. "Mirror sequence initiating. Seven minutes forty-three seconds. Starting the Obsidian routing, first tranche moving through Node Alpha." Whatever he said is all gibberish to you as you watch numbers cascade down the terminal screen too fast to comprehend.
Your palms are slick against the console's edge. A bead of sweat tracks down the back of your neck, disappearing into the fabric of your gown. Every sound is amplified, the hum of the terminal, your own breathing and the distant echo of the ballroom.
Then you both hear footsteps in the corridor behind you.
You spin. Namjoon's hand shoots to your arm, pulling you behind the terminal alcove. You both press flat against the wall, heartbeats competing. Through the crack in the service door, you see a security guard pass with an earpiece in, flashlight sweeping in a lazy arc. He pauses at the junction, tilts his head like he's listening to something on his radio, then continues down the opposite corridor.
You don't breathe again until his footsteps fade.
"Security sweep, east wing," Yoongi reports, his voice tight. "Routine. You're clear. Five minutes remaining."
Namjoon steps back to the terminal, eyes fixed on the screen. "It's working," he breathes. For the first time in months, you hear something in his voice you'd almost forgotten. It’s unguarded, uncalculated hope. "It's actually working."
You feel sick.
"Namjoon," you say quietly, your eyes still on the screen. The numbers keep cascading. Four minutes left.
"Not now."
"It has to be now."
Something in your tone makes him turn. His brow creases, then furrows, then drops into the expression you've come to associate with the moments before everything goes wrong.
"What did you do?" he asks.
"It's not what I did." You finally look at him. "It's what Jungkook did."
The name hits him like a slap. His eyes narrow. "What about him?"
"He knows, Joon." You say it plainly, the way Hoseok told you the truth deserved to be said without cushion. "He's known the whole time. The job, the Obsidian protocol, the eight-minute window. He's the one who set it up."
Namjoon goes very still. It’s not the calculated stillness of a strategist processing variables its the stillness of a man whose operating system has crashed.
"That's not possible," he says.
"The investigator who fed you the job, he works for Jungkook. Has been the whole time."
You watch the sequence unfold on Namjoon's face: disbelief, analysis, and fury. Each phase is distinct and each lasting exactly as long as it takes for the next to overwhelm it. His hands ball into fists at his sides.
"He played us." The words come through his teeth.
"He guided us." You echo Jungkook's word deliberately. "Namjoon, the money we're moving right now is not Jungkook's. It belongs to three corrupt board members who've been embezzling from his fund for years. We're not robbing him. We're helping him clean house."
"I don't give a damn whose money it is!" Namjoon's voice rises, bouncing off the corridor. "He manipulated us and he used us like fucking tools—"
"The way we used me?" The question leaves you before you can measure it, and it lands with surgical precision. Namjoon's mouth snaps shut.
Two minutes left. The numbers keep falling.
"He's not pressing charges," you say. "He never was. He built this so we could do what we're good at and so the people who actually deserve to be caught get caught."
Namjoon's chest heaves. He looks at the terminal, at the cascading numbers that represent everything he's spent months planning, and you watch the terrible realization settle over him: his masterwork was never his. Every contingency he mapped, every variable he accounted for, every sleepless night spent perfecting the plan– all of it ran on tracks that Jungkook had laid first.
"Ninety seconds," Yoongi reports. "Third tranche routing clean. No flags."
Namjoon stares at the screen. His fists unclench, finger by finger, like a man releasing something he's held too long.
"Does Yoongi know?" he asks quietly.
"Not yet."
He nods. Something shifts behind his eyes."The board members," he says. "Who are they?"
"Jungkook has the details."
"Of course he does." A bitter exhale. Then, quieter: "Is the evidence actually solid? If this goes to prosecution–"
"He has a forensic team. The Obsidian routing creates the trail. Every transaction we move tonight becomes a timestamped record."
"Thirty seconds," Yoongi's voice. "Final tranche clearing now."
Namjoon watches the last numbers fall. When the screen flashes [TRANSFER COMPLETE — MIRROR SEQUENCE CLOSING], he lets out a breath that seems to carry years in it.
"So we just helped a billionaire take out his own trash," Namjoon says flatly.
"We helped a man who could've sent us to prison choose to give us a second chance instead."
Namjoon's jaw clenches. He doesn't look at you when he speaks again.
"I want to talk to him. Directly."
"He's in the ballroom."
"Of course he is." Namjoon pushes off the wall, buttoning his jacket with sharp, precise movements. He pauses at the corridor entrance, half-turning to you.
"For what it's worth," he says, his voice stripped of its usual command, "I'm sorry. For putting you in the middle of this. For making you the weapon." He swallows. "You deserved better than that."
Before you can respond, he's gone.
You stand alone in the corridor. The terminal screen has gone dark. The earpiece is silent, Yoongi running post-transfer protocols in focused quiet.
You lean against the wall and close your eyes.
When you return to the ballroom, the scene that greets you is one you couldn't have predicted.
Hoseok is seated at a table near the east columns, his cane propped against the chair beside him. Across from him sits Jungkook, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, listening. Whatever Hoseok is saying has Jungkook's complete attention. It’s not the typical polite, half-engaged attention of a CEO at a networking event, but the focused, full-bodied attention of a person hearing something that matters.
And Hoseok is laughing.
It's not the full, room-filling laugh you remember from before. It's thinner, breathier, punctuated by pauses where his lungs catch up. But it's real. And Jungkook is smiling. An actual smile, slightly crooked, crinkling the corners of his eyes.
You stop mid-step, afraid that moving closer will break whatever fragile thing is happening between them.
Hoseok spots you first. He waves you over, and as you approach, you catch the tail end of whatever story he's been telling.
"—and she just stood there with spaghetti sauce on her face, trying to convince Namjoon that Italian cooking was her hidden talent." Hoseok wheezes slightly on the last word, pressing a hand to his chest. "She burned the garlic bread so badly the smoke detector went off twice."
Jungkook's eyes flick to you as you reach the table, and the amusement in them is so unexpected it winds you. "Sounds familiar," he says, and there's a warmth there that has no business existing tonight. "She tried to make me dinner once. I think I'm still recovering."
"Slander," you manage, sinking into the chair between them. "Both of you."
Hoseok's laughter fades into a cough but it’s just one and it's enough to remind everyone at the table of the stakes. He waves off your concern before it reaches your face.
Then Namjoon appears.
He approaches the table with the measured stride of a man who has reorganized his entire worldview in the span of a hallway walk. His eyes move from Hoseok to you to Jungkook, where they settle.
"Mr. Jeon," Namjoon says. His voice is level.
Jungkook rises from his chair. He stands a full inch taller than Namjoon, but the height difference isn't what fills the space between them. It's everything else.
"Kim Namjoon," Jungkook says. Neither extends a hand. "I've heard a lot about you."
"Apparently not as much as you already knew."
A moment passes. Then, impossibly, the corner of Jungkook's mouth twitches. "Your operational planning is impressive. Taehyung's words, not mine."
"I'll be sure to thank the man who conned me," Namjoon replies, dry as bone. But there's no venom in it. Just exhaustion and grudging respect.
Jungkook gestures to the chairs. "Sit down. We have a lot to discuss."
Namjoon glances at you. You nod.
He sits.
And from his chair, cane resting against his knee, oxygen concentrator humming quietly in the bag beneath the table, Hoseok watches the architect of his survival sit down across from the man whose money built it.
He reaches for his water glass, takes a slow sip, and closes his eyes.
For the first time in a very long while, he isn't counting breaths, he's just breathing.
Jungkook speaks quietly. "The board members, Park Chansik, Lee Minho, Kwon Jaesung– my legal team has everything they need as of forty minutes ago. The Obsidian routing created a clean timestamped trail. Prosecution is already in motion." He looks at Namjoon evenly. "No one at this table will be contacted by law enforcement. That was never the intended outcome."
Namjoon is quiet for a long moment. His hands are flat on the table. You watch him work through it, the last of the resistance, the pride that has kept him upright through years of operating in margins and shadows. You watch him set it down.
"You could have done this without us," Namjoon says.
"Yes."
"But you needed someone who wouldn't leave a trail back to you."
"I needed people who were good at what they do," Jungkook says. "There's a difference."
Another silence. Then Namjoon exhales through his nose, slow and controlled.
"If you ever need anything," he says, each word measured, "done legitimately." A pause. "You know where to find me."
It isn't quite gratitude. It isn't quite an apology. It is, you think, the closest Namjoon has ever come to either in a single sentence.
Jungkook nods. "I do."
Namjoon stands, buttoning his jacket. He looks at you and something passes across his face, complicated, brief and genuine.
"Take care of yourself," he says.
Then he's gone, swallowed by the ballroom's glittering current, and you think that wherever he ends up next it will be somewhere worth being.
Jungkook turns to Hoseok.
He doesn't ease into it. You've come to understand this about him, that he reserves gentleness for his delivery, not his honesty.
"I'll be covering your treatment going forward," he says. "Full continuity of care. Whatever the next stage requires." He holds Hoseok's gaze. "No debt and no condition attached to it."
Hoseok is quiet. The ballroom moves around you three in almost slow motion.
Then Hoseok slowly nods in the way you'd accept something you'd almost stopped believing was possible. His jaw works briefly and then steadies. His eyes are very bright but nothing falls.
"Okay," he says softly. The same word Jungkook gave you earlier, carrying the same impossible weight.
Jungkook nods back. The matter is settled in the way that only truly important things are, without fanfare, without ceremony, in the space between two people who have decided to mean what they say.
Under the table, you find Hoseok's hand and press it once. He squeezes back and doesn't let go for a long moment. He’s going to be okay.
You take Hoseok out through the east corridor, away from the crowds, his cane tapping its familiar rhythm against the marble. At the rear exit, where the town car is already waiting, you both stop.
The autumn air is sharper now. Hoseok tilts his face up toward the sky, eyes closing briefly, and you watch him breathe it in with the deliberate attention of someone who has learned not to take breathing for granted.
"Hoseok—"
"Don't," he says gently, eyes still closed. "Don't do the thing where you cry and then apologize for crying."
"I wasn't going to cry."
"You absolutely were." He opens his eyes and looks at you, and the smile that follows is the full radiant one, the one that has survived everything. "Go back inside. Yoongi will ride with me." As if summoned, your earpiece crackles.
“Already on my way down,” Yoongi says, flat and fond in equal measure. “Go back inside.”
You look at Hoseok for a long moment. At the ill-fitting suit and the too-sharp cheekbones and the eyes that are still, despite everything, the brightest thing in any room he enters.
"You planned this," you say quietly. "All of it. Getting me here, saying what you said to him."
"I have limited time and unlimited audacity," he replies serenely. "It seemed efficient."
A sound escapes you that is almost a laugh and almost something else entirely. You step forward and press your forehead to his, carefully, the way you handle things that matter. His free hand comes up to the back of your head and holds you there for a moment.
"Go," he murmurs. "Be happy. That's an order."
You pull back. You smooth his lapel, the same instinct toward repair, and he lets you.
The ballroom has thinned. The late hour has winnowed the crowd to its most committed members, small clusters of people with nowhere better to be, the string quartet replaced by something low and recorded. The chandeliers are still burning but they feel softer now, less performative.
You find him where you somehow knew you would. Not waiting dramatically or posed. He’s simply there, standing near the tall windows at the far end of the room, looking out at the city below with his jacket unbuttoned and his glass long since abandoned. Like a man who has finished the work of the evening and is simply existing in what remains of it.
He hears your heels before he sees you. You watch his shoulders shift slightly, just a fraction, the body registering something before the mind catches up.
When he turns, his eyes find yours immediately.
"Hoseok?" he asks.
"With Yoongi. And Namjoon."
Something in his expression softens. "Good.”
He looks at you across the remaining distance, and there is nothing careful in it anymore. The composure that has been doing its careful architectural work all evening has finally, quietly, stood down.
"My suite is on the fourteenth floor," he says.
It isn't a question and it isn't quite an invitation. It is simply a fact, offered plainly, leaving the rest entirely to you.
You cross the distance between you.
"Then take me there," you say.
The elevator ascends in silence.
You're aware of everything. The warmth radiating off him where your arm almost touches his. The slight unevenness of his breathing. Your own reflection in the mirrored doors, the emerald gown and the lipstick worn down to almost nothing. It’s the evidence of a night that has taken you apart and put you back together in a different order.
His hand finds yours somewhere between the eighth and ninth floor. It’s not dramatic but it does knock some kind of breath out of you. It’s the way his fingers slide between yours like they belong there and they remember the architecture.
You look down at your joined hands. You don't say anything and neither does he.
The doors open.
His suite is at the end of a quiet corridor, all muted carpet and low light. He unlocks the door and holds it open and when you step through, you hear it close behind you. The sound of the latch catching feels like the period at the end of a very long sentence yet your heartbeat quickens. You can’t believe you’re here with Jungkook. After everything, the year of inner turmoil and hospital stays.
You turn and Jungkook is already looking at you.
And then there is no more careful distance. No more city full of people between you and this.
He reaches you in two strides and his mouth finds yours, and it's nothing like the kiss downstairs, which was urgent, surprised and compressed. This is slower and more devastating, his hands cupping your face with a pressure that says I have been thinking about this for a very long time and his mouth moving against yours like he intends to be thorough about it.
"I've thought about this," he says against your mouth, low and rough at the edges. "More than I should have."
"Tell me," you breathe.
He pulls back just enough to look at you, eyes dark and intent, and what's on his face is the unguarded version, the one with nothing between you and it.
"Every version of how it should have gone," he says. His thumb traces your jaw, slowly, deliberate. "Every version where you stayed."
Something in your chest cracks cleanly open.
You pull him back to you.
He finds the zip at the back of your gown with careful hands, drawing it down slowly, like he's unwrapping something he plans to take his time with. The silk loosens around you and he peels it from your shoulders with a patience that borders on unbearable, pressing his mouth to each inch of skin he uncovers. He starts at your shoulder then moves along the curve of your neck to the line of your collarbone.
The gown pools at your feet.
He looks at you. Really looks, in the low warm light of the suite, with an expression that makes your skin feel like it belongs to you differently than it did before.
"God," he says softly.
You reach for his shirt buttons. Your fingers are steadier than they were this morning with the lipstick and you're obscurely proud of this, working each button open while he watches you with that dark, patient attention. His hands rest at your hips as if he's restraining them.
You push the shirt open and run your palms flat up his chest, feeling him pull in a slow breath.
"Your turn," you say.
It seems as though his patience reaches its limit as something shifts in him.
He walks you backward to the bed, not roughly but with a decisive authority that makes your breath catch, his mouth finding your neck, your shoulder, the curve of your ear, cataloguing you the way he always did.
When the backs of your knees meet the mattress he lowers you onto it and follows, bracing above you, and the weight of him bracketing you feels like the answer to a question you've been carrying for over a year.
"I missed you," you say. The words come out unplanned.
He goes very still above you. His eyes find yours in the low light.
"I know," he says. And then, quieter, his forehead dropping to yours: "I missed you every single day."
The words dissolve whatever was left of the distance.
What follows is desperate in the way that only reunion can be, the kind of desperate that isn't frantic but deep, the satisfaction of finally filling a space that has been hollow too long.
He starts at your throat.
His mouth drags slowly down the column of your neck, and you feel the graze of his teeth at your pulse point before he soothes it with his tongue. Your fingers go into his hair automatically, the muscle memory of a body that never forgot him even when you were trying to. He makes a low sound of approval against your skin that vibrates all the way down your spine. His hands map you like he's reclaiming territory. Palms sliding up your sides, thumbs tracing the undersides of your ribs, learning the topography of you with an unhurried thoroughness.
He cups your breasts through the thin fabric of your bra and watches your face when he does it, cataloguing your reaction with those dark intent eyes, filing it away for later use.
"Still the same," he murmurs, more to himself than to you, unclasping your bra and drawing it away. He looks at you in the low light of the suite for a long moment, chest rising and falling. It’s like he’s learning you back like a language he was afraid he'd forgotten. He then dips his head and takes one nipple into his mouth and you arch off the bed with a sharp inhale.
He is not merciful about it. He takes his time, his tongue circling and his teeth grazing, one hand attending to what his mouth isn't. By the time he moves lower, your hands are fisted in the sheets and you have entirely abandoned any pretense of composure.
His mouth traces down your sternum, your stomach, pausing at your hip to press a kiss to the bone that is soft enough to undo you in an entirely different way. His fingers hook into the last of your underwear and draw it down slowly. He looks up at you from where he is and the expression on his face is dark, patient and wanting. It makes your breath stall completely.
"Jungkook—"
"I've got you," he says quietly. And then his mouth finds the most sensitive part of you and every coherent thought you had evaporates.
He is meticulous. Devastatingly and deliberately meticulous, like he has all night and intends to use it. His tongue works in slow controlled strokes against your clit while his hands hold your hips with a firmness that makes it clear he'll set the pace, not you. You try anyway, your hips rolling, chasing, but he presses down until you still beneath him.
"Stay," he says against you, the word more felt than heard.
You make a sound that is almost his name.
He takes you apart with a patience that borders on cruel, bringing you to the edge twice and pulling back, reading your body with an attention to detail that makes you feel known in the most exposed possible way. By the time he finally lets you fall over it, you've said his name so many times it's lost all meaning and found a new one.
You're still catching your breath when he kisses his way back up your body. He tastes of you when his mouth finds yours and you feel it everywhere. His weight settles over you and you reach between his legs, wrapping your hand around the thick and warm cock. You feel him shudder against your throat.
And then you flip him.
He lands on his back with a slight exhale of surprise and you rise over him with intent. There’s a look on his face when he registers what you're doing. Surprise cedes to something darker and more interested, sending heat flooding through you all over again.
You take your time the same way he did, because you have your own year's worth of thinking about this. Your mouth traces his chest, his stomach and the deep cut of muscle below his hip until his hand fists in your hair and his breathing has gone ragged.
"_____." His voice is strained. A warning and a plea at once.
"Patience," you say against his skin, throwing his own word back at him.
He says something under his breath that might be a curse.
You take him into your mouth and his whole body goes taut, the hand in your hair tightening, a low broken sound escaping him that you feel in your chest like a struck chord. You are thorough about it in the same way he was thorough about you, slow and attentive and entirely in control.
His grip in your hair tightens further and he pulls you up with a firmness that makes it clear the balance of power has shifted again.
He rolls you back beneath him in one fluid motion.
"Enough," he says roughly, and his voice has lost all its careful edges. He looks at you with his hair disheveled and his chest heaving and every last layer of composure completely dismantled. He truly is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen. "I need to feel you."
"Then feel me," you say.
He does.
The moment he presses into you for the first time you both go very still. His forehead drops to yours. Your hands grip his shoulders. The room is completely quiet except for both of you breathing.
"Okay?" he asks softly.
"Yes," you breathe. "Yes."
He begins to roll his hips back before thrusting forward.
It's slow at first, deep and measured with each movement deliberate. You haven’t had sex in so long, it feels like the first time again. The uncontrollable way your skin buzzes with need makes your hands slide down his back and pull him closer. It’s urgent and he obliges, the pace building in increments that winds you tighter with every thrust.
His mouth finds your neck, your jaw, the corner of your mouth. He says your name once, quietly, like it's something he's been holding carefully for a long time. You can’t help the onslaught of moans that precede your lips. Feeling him like this again is so sinfully beautiful.
Then the slowness runs out.
What replaces it is urgent, consuming and entirely mutual. His hands grip your hips and yours grip him back, both of you chasing the same thing with equal desperation. The headboard and the low sounds he makes against your throat is everything that has been held tightly finally, completely releasing. You feel it building at the base of your spine, tightening. He must feel it too because his hand slides between you and finds exactly the right place to be. You shatter with his name in your mouth and your fingers in his hair as he drags his thumb in circles around your sensitive bud.
He follows moments later, his whole body going rigid, your name broken apart on his lips as he buries himself deep and holds there.
The feeling of it, of him, of this, of all the right pieces finally back in place, is so complete that your eyes sting with something that has nothing to do with sadness.
Afterward the room settles around you like an exhale.
He gathers you against his chest without a word, one hand moving slowly through your hair. Your ear is pressed to his heartbeat and you count it without meaning to, the way you've been counting Hoseok's breaths for months, the habit of holding onto proof of life.
His heartbeat is steady and real and yours again.
The suite holds you both in its quiet, the city burning silently beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, all that distant light doing nothing to touch the stillness in here. His hand moves through your hair in slow, absent strokes. Your fingers trace idle patterns on his chest without deciding to.
This is the part you didn't let yourself imagine. Not the wanting, you'd lived inside that for twelve months without permission. But this. The after. The specific peace of lying in the wreckage of everything that was held too long and finding it habitable. Finding it, impossibly, like home.
"I have something to tell you," he says eventually. His voice is low and unhurried, the voice he uses when he's already decided something and is simply finding the words for it.
You tilt your head up to look at him.
"Tonight at the gala" he says, his eyes on the ceiling. "When you walked across that ballroom toward me." A pause. "I'd been planning every variable for months. Every contingency. Every possible outcome." His jaw shifts. "And then you were just…there. In that dress. Walking toward me like it cost you something, and I couldn't remember a single thing I'd prepared."
You're quiet for a moment. "Good," you say finally. "That means you care." Echoing Hoseok’s words.
He looks down at you.
He exhales something that is almost a laugh, soft and private, and presses his lips to the top of your head. You feel him settle more completely into the mattress beneath you, some last residual tension finally locating the exit.
"I want to do this properly," he says. "Whatever comes next. I want to do it right."
You think about what right means, after everything. After the theft and the year of silence and the gala and Hoseok's borrowed hours. After Namjoon's careful penance and Yoongi running an operation from a service van two blocks away because that's simply the kind of person he is. After all of it.
"Right doesn't look the same as it did before," you say carefully.
"No," he agrees. "It looks like this. Like whatever this is." His arm tightens around you slightly. "I just want it to be honest."
You press your palm flat against his chest, feel the steady beat beneath it.
"Then we start there," you say.
He turns his head and finds your mouth in the dark, slow and soft. It’s the kind of kiss that isn't going anywhere because it doesn't need to.
You fall asleep before you mean to, somewhere between one breath and the next, his heartbeat counting you down into something that feels, for the first time in a very long time, like genuine rest.
Spring arrives the way good things do after long winters, gradually and then all at once.
Hoseok's new facility is twenty minutes from the city center, close enough that you can visit twice a week without rearranging your life around it. The room has a window that faces east, which he requested specifically, because he has developed strong opinions about morning light now that mornings are something he's decided to keep having.
He looks different. Not restored to before but present in a way that was once uncertain. The sharpness has softened back into his face by degrees. He laughs fully now, the room-filling version, and his lungs mostly cooperate.
Today he's sitting up in the chair by the window when you arrive, a book open in his lap and Jimin cross-legged on the floor beside him, arguing about something with the comfortable ferocity of people who have known each other long enough to mean nothing by it. That’s right,Jimin is back and his hair is blond now. It came as a text on a random Tuesday to let him into your house and he never left again since.
"She's here," Jimin announces without looking up. "Tell him he's wrong about the ending."
"I'm not getting involved," you say, setting the takeout containers on the table.
"You're already involved," Hoseok says. "You brought food. That's a political statement."
Jungkook arrives twenty minutes later, still in his work shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The sight of him in this room, standing in the doorway of the place his money is keeping lit and warm and full of morning light, does something to you that nine months hasn't made ordinary.
He crosses to you first. Presses a kiss to your temple. His hand rests at the small of your back like it lives there, because it does now.
Hoseok watches this with the expression of a man who has been right about something for a very long time.
"I'm not going to say I told you so," he announces to the room.
"You absolutely are," Jimin replies.
"I told you so," Hoseok says serenely.
Yoongi arrives last, because Yoongi always arrives last, sliding into the remaining chair with a convenience store coffee and the flat affect of a man who finds this entire situation both deeply chaotic and exactly correct. He looks around the room. At Jimin on the floor. At Hoseok in the light. At you and Jungkook and the space between you that has finally, completely closed.
He takes a sip of his coffee.
"Good," he says simply.
And it is. It genuinely, completely is.
Namjoon sends a message that evening, while you're in the car going home with Jungkook's hand over yours on the console. A single line, no context, typical of him.
Started something new. Legitimate. Thought you should know.
You show it to Jungkook. He reads it and smiles, small and real.
"Good for him," he says.
You lean your head against the window. The city moves past in its familiar blur of light and shadow. Jungkook's thumb traces slow circles on the back of your hand.
Nothing was returned to its original shape. That's not how any of this works. People don't unbreak, they rebuild differently. The seams show, and that's fine. That's more than fine.
You turn your hand over from under his and lace your fingers together.
Outside the window the city burns on, brilliant and ordinary and alive.
So do you.
[A/N]" *taps mic* is this thing on??
it's been a long wait my friends but i hope it was worth the 6 year wait. i hope this closes a chapter you all have been waiting for and as always, i hope you enjoyed tmyl jungkook again (: i promised it would be a happy ending xx
thank you for your patience and thank you for continuously supporting me after all this time. i love you to no end ♡
jungkook works overtime to assure that things go back to normal - all from behind the scenes.
word count: 13.493
warning: police brutality??, namjoon putting belt to ass, dirty talk, phone sex, masturbation, vomiting, kissing, nipple sucking, semi-public sex, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, age different/milf reader, overstimulation,
part one | two | three | four | five | ½ | six | seven
Kim Namjoon swore he could write a tell-all book about his time working with the Jeon family. It’d be a best seller, he thinks, making him the top author. Then, he’d write a sequel detailing the odd jobs he’d do for the children - like that time he had to scrap indecent pictures of Jeon Nari from the internet that only a select few have witnessed, but otherwise have no evidence of. Or when Jeon In-su had called him when he was driving under the influence and wrecked his car entirely.
Jeon Jungkook, however, always kept him busy. Like right now, Namjoon thinks as he slams his police cruiser shut, flashing red and blue lights flashing as he makes his way towards the luxury car. His eyes glanced at the license plate prior to making his way to the driver window.
“License and registration.” Namjoon says to Lee Dae who appears that he’s had a rough morning thus far. His face is flushed and he notices a few scratches along his forehead and temples.
“Is there a reason why I was pulled over, officer?” Lee Dae attempts to sound as polite and professional as he could, but it’s evident something is bothering him. He hands over exactly what Namjoon asks of him. “I wasn’t speeding, was I?”
Namjoon doesn’t answer and instead eyes the license for a moment. He had no use for this, but he had to keep Lee Dae talking.
“Everything alright, sir?” Namjoon questions, glancing his way. “It appears you got into one hell of a tussle.”
Lee Dae inhales through his nose. “Not exactly.” he states, ignoring the question. “May I ask again what was the reason for me being pulled over.”
Namjoon sighs. “Well,” he begins, hanging Dae back his license and registration. “we got a call about a domestic dispute.”
For a moment, Dae is confused. Then, it dawns on him, realization settling through. He scoffs, his eyes widening. “That bitch called the police on me?!” he spats, venom laced in his tone entirely. Namjoon almost wanted to laugh, but he was on the clock. “After she attacked me?!”
“Sir, do you mind stepping out of the vehicle?”
Dae is taken back. “Why?” he asks. “Am I being arrested for being attacked?”
“Sir,” Namjoon’s tone deepens. “Step out of the vehicle.”
Dae doesn’t. His eyes harden at Namjoon, one hand clenching the steering wheel until his knuckles are white. His cheeks are still burning after the hot coffee was splashed into his face. He had enough going on in his personal life and it appears as everything was adding onto it - you being unreasonable, him going bankrupt, his parents refusing to help him.
“I’m not doing a damn thing.”
Namjoon could laugh right now. His eyes scan the quiet area. It’s too early for anyone to be out; the birds weren’t even chirping yet.
Without warning, a fist slams right between Dae’s eyes, so sudden that he cannot even predict what he is supposed to do next. He feels his body being dragged out of his vehicle and slammed against the cold concrete of the street.
“I’m requesting backup.” Dae hears Namjoon say from behind him, but his head is ringing so loud. There’s pressure on his back. “The suspect is resisting arrest and attempting to flee the scene.”
“What the fuck?!” Dae hisses, attempting to fight Namjoon off of him, but it’s no use. “You just fucking assaulted me!”
There’s cold metal clasping around Dae’s wrist, his cheek pressed firmly against the ground.
“Whatever that bitch said I did to her, she’s lying!” he hisses, rage overtaking him. “Do you know who I am? I’ll have your job by the end of the day.”
Namjoon yanks Dae up by his shoulders, forcing him to stand before slamming him against his own car. Behind him, he begins to chuckle.
“The suspect is belligerent and matches the description from the reported domestic dispute.” Namjoon radios in before turning his attention back to Lee Dae. “I have no idea who you are, though I’m sure you know what family I work for. Jeon Jungkook has told me to make sure your time with me is one you won’t forget.”
Dash recalls a time in which it was just him and his mother. There were traditions that were held when he was a child - like every Thursday they had breakfast for dinner and every Saturday they’d go to a restaurant of his choosing.
Dash cannot recall a time in which he ever longed for his father, or any father figure in general. He’s grown accustomed to not having one. His mother rarely dated, and if she had at all, she never brought such men home with her. It’s one of the many reasons why he hadn’t cared to reach out to his father as he grew older. The man came around when he wanted to, throwing cash around as if that made up for his years of absence.
It’s why when Dash takes a break from the treadmill - the last piece of equipment he finds himself on right before he leaves the gym - one of the many televisions catches his eye. He removes his headphones, the music blaring from them as his eyes fixated on the News. At the bottom of the screen in bold letters reads “BREAKING NEWS”. Dash doesn’t typically watch the news, especially at the gym, but it’s the man on said news that captures his interest.
Lee Dae - because he would never truly call said man his father - is on the screen. He’s nearly unrecognizable and the only reason he had come to realize just who the man was is because of the similar bold font next to the “breaking news”.
BREAKING NEWS: PROMINENT LEE FAMILY MEMBER, LEE DAE, THRUST INTO THE SPOTLIGHT ON DOMESTIC BATTERY
Dash swallows, his feet moving faster than he realizes, his attention fully on the television. It’s hard to hear in the gym where the music is louder than anything, but he manages to read the subtitles as the reporter speaks.
“A sudden turn of events has transpired early this morning,” the reporter says, her eyes looking right into the camera, behind her an array of flashing red and blue lights. “authorities confirmed to me that Lee Dae, eldest son of one of the city's well-known Lee family, has been arrested with domestic battery.”
“No fucking way…” Dash murmurs to himself, his eyes unblinking. He scans the scenery in the background, his breathing slowly at the familiar houses.
“Sources tell me that the arrest has followed just a day after Lee Dae has officially filed for bankruptcy. Such an act has become talk of the town due to his family name. One officer responded to a reported disturbance early this morning by residence.”
The camera turns to the right, a sea of officers surrounding one man that is on the ground now - Lee Dae. Two officers lift him up from the ground as the reporter begins to stroll towards another man, dressed more formal than in uniform. He’s tall, broad shoulders and serious eyes.
“Officer-”
“Detective.” the man says and as he speaks, his cheeks suck in. “Detective Kim Namjoon.”
“Detective,” the reporter corrects. “can you give any information on what has transpired here today?”
Detective Kim looks right at the camera. “We’ve responded to a series of complaints about screaming coming from a home just down the street. Witnesses allege that a physical altercation had occurred between Lee Dae and an individual. This investigation is an active case and we’re still currently gathering information.”
“Thank you Detective Kim.” the reporter turns back to the camera. “An anonymous source has given us information about Lee Dae’s financial documents that had been filed just yesterday and may play a role in the incident that occurred between him and the woman rumored to be the mother of his illegitimate child. We’ll have more information-”
Dash doesn’t stay in the gym longer. He knew it was rude to shove the man lingering in the entrance out the way, but the feeling in his stomach doesn’t feel right to him. His palms are sweaty as he enters his car and he’s speeding out the parking lot in less than a minute later.
You’re showering when your phone rings from your bedroom and it goes to voicemail - over ten times. If anything, you were sulking, the hot water burning your skin in the way you deserved - deserved for allowing Lee Dae to continue to ruin your life. For hooking up with Jungkook that has Dash pulling away from you. For going too far with the younger man in general that now has him claiming his love for you.
You were done sulking when the water began to cool and decided that you’ve made your bed and it was your time to lie in it. Before you lived in this home, you had an apartment. It was small, sure, but it was yours.
You’re drying your hair when you hear a bang from outside your room. For a moment, you believe it’s Dad coming back with vengeance - and you were prepared to attack him yet again if it meant you could release even more anger. Instead, it’s Dash when you hear his frantic voice calling for you.
“Dash?” you call back, swinging your bedroom door open to see your son just down the hall. He’s sweaty, you note, and in his usual gym attire. “What’s wrong? You look terrified-“
“Are you okay?” Dash’s eyes scan your face then your body for any visible wounds. “The news said you were attacked.”
“The news?” your eyebrows shoot up in confusion. “What do you mean? I’ve been here the entire time.”
Dash takes a deep breath. He closes his eyes for a moment before opening them to look at his mother. He’s been avoiding you for too long. He didn’t want to have that uncomfortable conversation.
“I saw him on the news.” Dash speaks and finally, he feels his heart go back to a normal pace. “They said he got into a domestic dispute with his supposed mother of his child.”
It takes you a moment to connect the dots, but when you do your blood continues to boil. You have more questions than you should probably ask all in one sitting.
“I have no idea what’s going on.” you turn your eyes down the hallway to where the front door is wide open. “Are you hungry?”
Dash remains quiet. His eyes scans you over once more, concluding that you’re fine. Lee Dae, however, was not. He was bruised and obviously beaten by someone that had no care for him.
Dash also cannot find it in his heart to truly care.
“Please stay.” you murmur, your voice low and defeated. “Just long enough for me to make you something to eat. We don’t even have to talk.”
“We should talk.” Dash quips. “About everything.”
It was a step forward, even if that step terrified you.
There was no more hiding anything from Dash and you promised that whatever he asked you, you would answer truthfully. As you cook, Dash sits at the island. He doesn’t speak and you’re positive that he’s collecting his own thoughts just as you are.
Dash is positive that you’re attempting to lighten the mood when you place the stack of pancakes in front of him, the sweet aroma filling his nostrils that remind him of a simpler time - just you and him.
“I know you hate me.”
“I don’t hate you.” Dash murmurs, forcing a large portion of the pancake in his mouth.
You take a deep breath.
“I don’t want you to hate Jungkook either.”
Snorting, Dash takes another bite of his pancakes, but remains silent. His dark eyes flicker to you and in that instant, he looks far too much like Lee Dae for your liking.
“It’s my fault-”
“You’re both adults.” Dash interrupts. “It isn’t more his fault than it is yours, right? You fucked my friend and my friend fucked you back.”
Your body is hot with humiliation. You never wanted to be here with your son. For years, you prioritized Dash and worked overtime assuring that if you dated, it never interfered with him. Any man you had entertained throughout the years rarely made it to the stage in meeting him, all deemed not not “ready” enough to further the relationship.
“Are you still-”
“No!” you hiss, eyes wide. You shake your head. “Jungkook and I-”
Dash raises a brow.
You sigh. You run a hand over your forehead. “I shouldn’t have done anything with him. You and him…”
Dash waits for you to continue - were you finding the right words? Did you truly feel terrible as you looked saying it? He isn’t sure entirely. A part of him ponders if you and Jungkook were something purely physical or did you harbor feelings for him and vice versa.
Taking another bite of his pancake, Dash begins to think back to how Jungkook has acted. He rarely came out with him to parties like he used to. He avoided the girls that approached him and always made excuses to end conversations prematurely. He hasn’t received any texts from his friend in a long while that asked him to not return to the dorm room - understandable now seeing as he fucks you in your bed.
Dash clears his throat. “Have you talked to him?”
You sigh. “To Jungkook?”
“No,” Dash snickers. “to the other motherfucker who you fucked and allowed to ruin your life.”
“Don’t talk like that.” your eyes glare, but then they soften. You squeeze your hands into fists. You had to put yourself into his shoes instead of living outside of it. “I have. This morning actually.” you sigh. “I may have thrown scorching hot coffee into his face.”
Dash is taken aback by your seriousness. So much so that he laughs, something deep from his throat that has your own lips twitching upwards.
“I’m not sure how the news knows this but-”
“He’s apparently a prominent figure.” says Dash sarcastically. “When I saw him, he was fucked up. Like, really. He was arrested."
Your eyebrows knit together. “Really?”
Instantly, your mind flashes to Jungkook. There’s no way that he and Dae had an altercation together - you’re positive. That would do more harm than good, but damn did it get you going just thinking about the younger man beating that prick’s ass.
“He filed for bankruptcy officially yesterday.” Dash snickers. His pancakes are nearly done and knowing him, he would just go in the fridge and look for something else to eat.
“I know.” you groan. “We’re going to have to start packing soon.”
“What?” Dash’s eyes flicker to yours. “What do you mean?”
“That’s why that good for nothing asshole was here this morning.” you shrug a shoulder. “Apparently…he’s selling the house.” you let out another sigh.
Dash’s face falls a bit, his eyes glancing around the kitchen. “He can’t do that…we…you live here. His parents-”
“Cut him off.”
Even with bad news, you’re giddy enough to know that Dae will still have a terrible life without his parents money.
“You still have your inheritance, though! They wouldn’t allow him to touch it.” you offer a soft smile. “You’re almost done with college and I have enough money saved up-”
“I don’t want that inheritance.” Dash scoffs.
You understand why, but you ask either way. “Why? You can have a jump start into your career. You can…buy a home for yourself. Or save it-”
“All of a sudden I have cousins who pretend to give a fuck about me. Am I expected to meet with these people for the holidays?”
Dash crosses his arms and sits back into the island stool. He’s been with Sumi - not officially - for months. He’s grown close enough with her to hear the stories of what happens in these rich families and he wanted no parts in them.
“Then,” Dash shakes his head. “I got a call from my supposed grandfather to tell me that I could possibly inherit his company. I didn’t ask for this.”
“Wait, what?”
Dae’s father was a strict and serious man. For years, he avoided all contact with Dash and made little effort to be a part of his life. He never asked questions, only made sure the check cleared every month.
“Imagine that.”
You tilt your head, eyes peering at your son as he speaks.
“The illegitimate child possibly inherits everything. I know that would crush him.” Dash cracks a smirk. “I’d just burn it to the ground. Watch decades of hard work crumble.”
“You sound so evil.” you say, amused. “The son I raised wouldn’t do that. That’s something Dae,” you say his name as if it’s venom. “would do. He’s too stupid to run a company.”
Raising your son, you rarely spoke ill of his father. Now that he’s a man, you couldn’t do anything but that.
“But if you don’t want to, you don’t have to. It’s your life.” you grab the sticky plate from the island and toss it into the sink. You turn on the water. “But that inheritance is yours. Do whatever you want with it.”
The silence you and him are left in as you wash the dishes is a comfortable one, at least for you. You don’t want to force him into more conversations that would have him pushing you away again.
You’re scrubbing the sink when Dash does speak up again, this time asking a question you weren’t sure you knew the answer to.
“Do you love him?”
That obviously wasn’t towards Lee Dae.
Dash is staring at you, waiting for an answer. His face is unreadable, you note, the perfect poker face as always.
You turn off the sink water, your eyes cast down as the water goes down the drain. A part of you wishes you could go with it.
“Dash…”
“Yes or no.” says Dash. “Do you love him? Or was it just sex?”
You watch Dash watch you.
The kitchen is entirely still, silent. You don’t say anything in response.
Did you love Jungkook? Of course you did. At first, you adored the friendship Dash & Jungkook had, the motherly side of you witnessing the boyish atmosphere they created together that reminded you of two siblings. You enjoyed having the both of them over and assuring them that when they left, it was always with packed dinners.
Then, it became complicated. Jungook found out about the profile - the one you made just to hookup with anyone, and used it against you.
It became complicated because you liked the way Jungkook spoke so dirty to you, those boyish features you loved about him that you thought were cute now had you swooning.
It became complicated because you loved how good Jungkook fucks you, showing such passion for your body that no man ever has before. His kisses would be left lingering on your hours after the fact, his hands bruised on your flesh like a tattoo.
But even then, you think, outside of sex you thought of Jungkook. You enjoyed his company. You enjoyed the times you and he shared together, even if it was behind the backs of others. He’d lay his head on your chest, listening to the way your heart beat rhythmically, his arms hugging you tightly - almost afraid to let you go.
“That tells me everything I need to know.”
The stool scratches against the floor as Dash gets up. Your heart jolts and you reach out for him. “Wait-“
“I have to get back to the dorm and shower. Sumi and I-“ Dash stops speaking. He’s forgotten he hasn’t talked to you about Sumi, or about anything in his life recently.
“-have plans.”
Sumi, you think. That must’ve been the girl he was with that night. Immediately, that familiar humiliation comes through you.
“I’ve,” you chuckle bitterly, your hand slowly falling. “I’ve missed you…is all.”
Offering a strained smile, Dash nods . “Me, too.”
“Ruining people's lives is suuuuch hard work.”
Sumi’s voice sounds through his phone speaker, as sugary and sweet as always. Only, Jungkook knows his cousin and knows just how false that voice was. Of course, only when it came to Dash.
Jungkook hadn’t thought that he’d ever had to talk to his cousin in order to hear about one of his closest friends, but here he sat doing just that. From Sumi, he learned that Dash had started speaking with you again, which was great, only on your side, of course, as he continued to avoid Jungkook like his life depended on it. He isn’t sure he could blame him.
However, you still refused to see him. He was one step ahead, though, as you weren’t completely ignoring him. You answered his texts and sometimes, his calls.
“Tell me about it.” Jungkook sighs. He’s laying against his pillows in his dorm room. “Having to be the mastermind to get the woman you love back is tiresome.”
Sumi snorts. “You have such mommy issues, I swear.”
“Don’t we all?” Jungkook retorts. “Besides, I’m just doing what you suggested.”
It’s been a long month so far. Within said month, Jungkook worked on assuring you and he could be together. But in order to do that, he first had to worry about Dash.
It was Sumi’s idea, Jungkook recalls, thrusting Dash into the Lee family's good graces. Dash had confided in her (Jungkok could vomit on how lovey-dovey she was with him) about his grandfather reaching out to him, and it was Sumi who encouraged him to take up the offer.
In all wealthy families there were those who were attempting to get into the good graces of the patriarch - that would be Lee Dae’s father himself. Dash had several cousins, all raised with money who attended private institutions like he had. They had the name, yes, but not the work ethic or the strive.
Lee Daniel, just a year older than Dash, was already out. Wealthy families hated scandal - and he was the first in Sumi’s plan to fall. Jungkook recalls the moment it happened, him unlocking his phone and revealing it was yet another headline involving the Lee family. This time, Lee Daniel, whose father - married to Dae’s sister - had bribed the elite university to take in Daniel. Of course, it’s something that happens all the time, but they were the first to be caught.
Said scandal had people wondering just how iditioc the Lee family could be if getting into a good University was that difficult.
The next on the list was Lee Nara, only a sophomore in college herself, but old enough to know that drinking and driving was wrong. “I can’t believe you’re adding me to your schemes.” was what Jimin had said, but was fully willing to drive a bit too close to the brand new car she had gotten for graduation just a few years prior to cause an accident. It was Namjoon who answered the call when Jimin’s car “spiraled” out of control and ended up on the side of the road with a hysterical Lee Nara.
Sure, she only had a few drinks that night, but it wasn’t the detectives first time altering a breathalyzer.
BREAKING NEWS: LEE FAMILY BACK IN THE SPOTLIGHT!
LEE NARA involved in serious drunk driving crash in Downtown
Police confirm that Lee Nara, sophomore, and granddaughter of prominent business man, Lee Dae-hwan, was involved in a serious vehicle collision late last night. First responders rushed to the scene and managed to bring those injured - and unnamed - to the hospital and their injuries under investigation.
Eyewitnesses describe the scene to be not only chaotic, but heartwrecking. Shattered glass, smoking engines and panicked individuals gathering around the intoxicated and unruly Lee Nara.
Authorities, along with Detective Kim Namjoon, had confirmed that Lee Nara has been taken into custody and is expected to face charges for her crime of operating a vehicle under the influence. Detective Kim has this to say:
“Lee Nara may be young, but she’s old enough to know right from wrong. Let this be a cautionary tale, don’t get behind the wheel if you’ve had a lot to drink. This is a young girl who is known for her high-profile lifestyle as a Lee, but that does not mean that she is above the law.”
“Do you think what we’re doing is wrong?” Jungkook asks, blinking back into reality.
Sumi hums from the other end as if thinking of his question. “Do you feel bad?” she asks him.
Jungkook thinks about it for a moment - then another.
No.
Maybe that was Jungkook’s own privileges catching up to him. Growing up in an elite family, nearly everything was competition. Who could come out on top, who could gain the most, who could be the best.
This was what it was, only Jungkook was assuring the top spot remained on one who wasn’t competing - Dash. Compared to his cousins, Dash was perfect. He got into college because he worked for it and didn’t need anyone to bribe his spot. He was responsible and as far as anyone knew, not in the limelight giving their family a bad name.
“Besides,” Sumi’s voice is cheery. “isn’t this what you wanted? Dash has no competition now, not like he ever had. Daniel is a dumbass jock, Nara’s reputation is dwindling.”
“Yeah.” Jungkook hums. “It is what I wanted. I gotta go.”
Jungkook doesn’t wait for Sumi’s response before he hangs up. Instantly, his mind drifts to you, so you are who he calls.
You answer on the fourth ring, your face coming into view. You take a deep breath, your eyes glancing at him in fake annoyance. It does nothing for Jungkook, however, as he smiles widely as he sees you. “Mommy!”
“Kookie…” your tone is lecturing. “…what did I say?”
“To jump in front of a car.” Jungkook deadpans.
“What? No!” you’re fully into the camera now. “You’re so dramatic.”
“Well I'd rather do that than go a day without seeing you.” Jungook sits up on his bed. “Did you get the flowers I’ve sent you?”
Jungkook watches the way you get out of frame to return a few seconds later, holding the bouquet he’s sent you. The flowers are lush and colorful, a mix of lavender blossoms and pink lilies.
You attempt to be annoyed - just a bit - but there’s a glint in your eyes that Jungkook sees.
“I got them.” you say. “I appreciate them, Kookie. But you know-”
Jungkook interrupts you. “It’s been torture, mommy. Why don’t we go out?” he suggests. He wants to change the subject. He doesn’t want to hear you remind him what he already knows.
“Are you insane? Talking to you now is risky.” you sigh. “I thought I told you that we keep talking, it has to be-“
“Strictly platonic.” Jungkook pouts with a roll of his eyes. “I miss you, though.”
Jungkook witnesses the way your eyes soften and his heart jolts. You place the bouquet back out of frame and return back to the phone. “I miss you, too.”
At that, Jungkook smiles. His heart jolts in his chest like it always does. He doesn’t blame you for being skeptical in meeting with him, but it’s hard for him. He has to force himself from being at your door every night, knowing that Dash could possibly show up at any time. It was riskier then, but the adrenaline clouded his mind. He never thought that the two of you would be caught.
“You do?”
“Of course I do.”
Jungkook tilts his head. “I figured you’d found someone else by now,” he jokes. He’d know if you did. He wasn’t paying Namjoon extra to keep an eye out on you for nothing.
“And if I do?” you raise a brow, staring right at him through the phone.
“If you do, it won’t be for long.” Jungkook responds instantly, cooly. “But you don’t have anyone.”
You snort. “Are you following me?” you question, fully joking on the matter.
Yes, Jungkook was in a way. Namjoon got paid more by the Jeon family than he did as an actual detective. “I just know.” he smiles a bit. “Besides, if you did have someone, you’ll still be thinking of me.”
“You’re always so cocky.”
Jungkook isn’t wrong, and that’s what upset you - with yourself, not him. The younger man is a plague on your mind that you cannot get rid of. It didn’t help that he refused to be forgotten, determined to have a relationship with you by any means necessary, an idea you shot down time and time again.
Yet, when your mind wasn’t plagued with Jungkook, it was about him, especially Dash’s question. “Do you love him?”
“Mommy?”
You blink a few times, your vision returning clearer. You look at Jungkook to find that he’s already looking at you. However, he’s changed the view from him holding his phone to said phone being propped up on his nightstand. You see him laying down, a few strands of hair in his forehead and covering his eyebrows. You see him place his airpods in his ear before continuing to speak.
“What are you thinking about?” Jungkook questions.
It was your turn to get comfortable. You didn’t have to work until later nor were you expecting company. Dae had kept his distance from you - you thanked the higher power for that - and Dash made it his mission to call before he did, no matter how many times you told him there wasn’t any reason to anymore.
Jungkook watches the way you lay on your own bed, your head crashing onto the soft pillow. He wishes he could be next to you, he thinks, and inhales the sweet (and sexy) scent upon your sheets. Just the memory has his cock hardening in a perverted way.
“You.” you say, answering Jungkook’s question honestly.
“Me?” Jungkook’s eyes widened a bit, a tint dusting his cheeks. “What about me?”
You couldn’t hold back the snort, your lips twitching upwards.
“I’m thinking about how cute you look right now.” You tease.
“Cute?” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Stop flirting with me, mommy. Just tell me to come and I’ll bend you over-”
“Jungkook!” There’s no malice in your voice and this time, you laugh. “You have such a dirty mouth.”
“You like how dirty my mouth is.” Jungkook retorts. “I miss using my mouth on you.”
This was your moment to stop him. Jungkook was taking a step and it was your responsibility to not allow him to leap.
Instead, you raise your brows. “Do you really?” you murmur, eyes watching through the screen at Jungkook.
“Yeah.” Jungkook nods his head. “I miss tasting you…”
There it was, you think, your sanity screaming at you to not do this. Everytime you’ve gone too far and went down a rabbit hole with Jeon Jungkook, it causes you to make terrible decisions.
In your silence, Jungkook continues. “...miss touching your soft skin. I miss trailing my tongue on every inch of you.”
“Kook…”
“I miss laying my head on your chest, too.”
Jungkook’s voice lowers into a hushed whisper, as if speaking lower in the empty room would hide what he’s saying. His tongue glides across his bottom lip.
“...miss the way your nipples feel against my palm…against my tongue.”
Your thighs clench together pathetically. No matter how many times you told yourself to hang up the phone - because this was not being strictly platonic - you don’t. Instead, your body reacts, imaging said man doing exactly that. His hands gliding against your naked flesh, his warm mouth wrapping around your nipples and suckling on them until they’re hardened and bruised.
“You miss it, too, don’t you?” Jungkook hums and from your view, you witness the way his legs widen just a bit. “I wish you’d stop being so stubborn, Mommy…”
Jungkook’s bottom lip pokes out a bit, so cutely that you are nearly distracted by the way a tattooed hand trails down his torso and to the hem of his sweatpants.
“Instead you insist on torturing me…” Jungkook trails off.
“Torturing you how, Kookie?”
A shiver runs through Jungkook’s body. He closes his eyes for a moment, letting out a breath he wasn’t even aware he was holding. Your sweet voice speaking his name just does something to him - and he feels it right at his core.
“You know how, mommy.” Jungkook whimpers, fluttering his eyes open to look at you. His hand slides into his sweats without a care. “I’m so hard at just thinking about you.”
You swallow - hang up the phone, you tell yourself. “You should be hard for girls your own age, Kookie.”
Jungkook snickers humorlessly. “Girls my age won’t treat me like you do.” he says, squeezing a hand around his clothed cock, his boxer briefs painfully tight. “The way you make me cum, mommy, no one has done that before.”
Hangup, you tell yourself, the familiar heart beat growing between your legs.
“Why do you think I can never get enough of you?” Jungkook sighs and from the camera angle, you see the way his hand jerks inside his sweatpants.
“Are you touching yourself?” you ask - damn you, you think. You couldn’t stop watching him and his own pathetic words aren’t helping, either.
“I have to because you hate me.” Jungkook whimpers. This time, he pushes the sweatpants from his waist. He’s sporting navy blue briefs that he proceeds to push down, as well, his cock springing forward.
Your lips part just a bit.
“I don’t hate you, Kookie…” you trail off as Jungkook wraps a hand around his cock. You swallow, you were going to regret this when you were in the right mind. “...I miss you just as much.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” you nod your head. “You were such a good boy for me, Koo…I miss feeling your cock in me. I think about it all the time.”
Jungkook’s heart jolts, his cock twitching in his palm. Instantly, he squeezes it, stroking it as his eyes watch you through the screen closely. “Fuck, mommy.” he gasps. “I can still be good for you! Please-”
“How would you be good for me?” you couldn’t help but ask. You and Jungkook were already too deep - and sure, you could end it now, but you wouldn’t.
“You know how, mommy. Have you forgotten how good you felt when I’d fuck you?” Jungkook grunts, shamelessly taking out his cock. Your eyes zone in on it through the screen, the tip flushed just as you remembered it. Your legs squeeze tighter. “-fuck you so deep just how you like it, too.”
Watching Jungkook pleasure himself is hotter than you’d thought it’d be. Of course, it had to be because it was Jeon Jungkook. A handsome face with a handsome cock and seductive voice that shot a wave of heat through your body - and between your legs.
“I wish you were here right now, mommy.” Jungkook then whimpers, a total switch up to his once overly-cocky attitude that you’re positive would be back just as quick as it left. “No, I wish I was there! I know you’re wet right about now. You’re always so wet for me, mommy.”
“I am wet.” you admit, voice lowering to a whisper. “I wish you were here with me, too, Kookie. I miss feeling your cock in me.”
Jungkook pumps his cock harder, round eyes widening at you. You’re teasing him, he thinks, the way you’re breast are right in the camera, but not fully exposed just because he knows you want to torture him.
“L-Let me see you, mommy.” Jungkook pants. “Please, I miss you. And listening to you right now is torture…”
Jungkook swallows the lump that’s in his throat, uncaring at how pathetic he might sound. It was obvious what he was doing - you were literally watching him - but it wasn’t a secret to you of all people how he felt for you.
“Hmm…see me?” you ask, tilting your head. “What do you wanna see?”
What didn’t Jungkook want to see? It would be perverse for him to tell you to put your whole pussy into the camera, even if it was his first thought when he ponders your question. His hand squeezes his cock, a whimper coming from his lips. “Your…breast.” he swallows yet again, throat dry. “I wish I could feel them right now…please, mommy.”
Now at the thought of your soft breast in the palms of his hand has him salivating, truly wishing he could hold them in his hands once more - even if it was for a mere second.
You do, pulling your shirt up to show Jungkook your breast, amused - and aroused - but the look of the man. His head is pushed back against his pillow, his cock wet with his own pre-cum and you hear it as he pumps himself.
“So pretty,” Jungkook whines. His mouth part, his tongue salivating at the way your nipples are hardened. His mind swirls with memories of him between your breasts, his fingers twirling and twisting those very nipples, along with his tongue, suckling and leaving it flushed and bruised. “I wish I could cum all over them again, mommy…”
Jungkook’s eyes flutter shut as you watch, your bottom lip being caught between your teeth. Your legs clench tighter together, the sight you’d never thought would ever be hot to you, but here it was. He isn’t silent, nor are the sounds of him pumping his cock at just the sight of you.
As for Jungkook, his mind continues to replay past encounters with you - his cock springing between your breast, his tip hitting against your tongue, an act so lewd that his stomach churns at just the remembrance. “Gonna cum, mommy!” he grunts.
As of lately, nothing has gone Jungkook’s way. Sure, he was making moves behind the scenes - assuring that Lee Dae paid the ultimate price for being a piece of shit to you and Dash. Him and Sumi found ways for Dash, the illegitimate child, to strive ahead of his cousins, but all of that wasn’t his focus. What was his focus was simple - cumming to you.
“Fuck,”
Jungkook jumps instantly at the sound, his eyes opening like a deer in headlights.
Jungkook knew that voice, and so did you. You act fast, body warm with embarrassment and before asking any questions, you hang up, your heart pounding.
Jungkook goes to cover himself with his blanket, his cheeks flushed as he watches an unamused Dash close the door behind him.
“should I have knocked?” Dash glances away.
Jungkook grabs his phone, now free of you. He lets out a sigh of relief - Dash hadn’t seen you on the screen.
“You didn’t put anything on the door.” Dash murmurs, going towards his own bed. He drops his bag onto the bed and opens it.
“You…you’ve been avoiding me.”
Jungkook’s voice is small. He pulls his sweats up underneath the covers. It was Dash’s idea to put something - anything truly - on the outside of the door to let the others know that they wanted the room to themselves. It mainly meant when they had company, not desperately masturbating.
Dash doesn’t respond and Jungkook is unsure how to further lead the conversation. He sits up, swinging his feet to the side of his bed and straightens his shoulders. He wanted nothing more than to catch Dash around, but he’s made himself disappear and avoided him as if his life depended on it. He could ask Sumi for help, but that would be admitting that he needed her even more, and he’d be damned to give her more satisfaction.
“Dash,”
Dash stops what he’s doing. He slowly turns towards Jungkook and at this, Jungkook is taken aback. What he was expecting was for Dash, upon seeing him again after months, to say something. To berate him, attack him (again) even - and he would take it all.
This, however, wasn’t what he was expecting. Dash, of course, isn’t a fighter unless provoked. But he gives Jungkook nothing but a simple stare, waiting for him to speak.
Swallowing, Jungkook stands. “I,”
Dash waits for Jungkook to speak.
Jungkook’s hand clenched and unclenched several times.
“Are you nervous?”
Jungkook exhales. “Yes.” he admits, his cheeks darkening. “...you’re my best friend.” he says quietly.
Jungkook doesn’t see the way Dash’s eyes soften for a moment, or the way his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.
“Thing’s would be easier if you,” Jungkook shrugs. “I don’t know, beat my ass.” He’s only half joking - he doesn’t want to get punched again by him, but it was something. “I thought about what I would say when I finally saw you again.”
“What did you come up with?” questions Dash, genuinely curious. He wasn’t positive that Jungkook was at the dorm, but after his visit with you, he knew he couldn’t avoid the man forever.
Witnessing him with his cock out wasn’t how Dash wanted to see the man, however.
“Nothing good enough to get you to stop hating me.” Jungkook snorts humorlessly. “I’m sorry.”
Dash bites the inside of his cheek. Avoiding Jungkook was easier than this. The sight of him and you together left his mind, but it was easier to conceal when he didn’t have to see him.
Letting out a sigh, Dash repeats the words he’s said to his mother. “I don’t…hate you.”
Jungkook inhales. He doesn’t want to speak at the risk of ruining the moment.
Dash sits on his bed, rolling the kink out in his neck.
“I thought about what I’d do,” Dash begins. “about you…if I wanted to continue to fight you at every given chance.”
Jungkook eyes the way Dash raises his eyes to look at him.
“Or if I wanted to just forget about it and move on with my life. To leave you and my mother behind.”
Jungkook’s eyes widened. “You shouldn’t do that to her.” he’s quick to interject. “She…she really loves you.”
“You’d know.” Dash snickers.
Jungkook supposed he deserves the jabs.
“I thought she was hurt and I forgot about it all.” Dash crosses his arms. “I forgot the disdain I had for her. The betrayal.”
“It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.” Jungkook blurts out. “I-”
“What?” Dash scoffs. “You were going to tell me over lunch that you were fucking my mom?”
Jungkook sighs. He falls onto his own bed, head hanging. “No…” he murmurs. “...I don’t know how I was going to tell you. She…”
Prior to all of this, Jungkook didn’t have an issue with speaking with Dash about any relationships or hookups he had. You were different, of course, as no one wants to hear the personal details about their mother’s sexual life.
“...she didn’t want you to know.” Jungkook murmurs. “I don’t even think she took me seriously. She told me all the time that we couldn’t,”
Jungkook stops to take a deep breath. Dash hasn’t stopped him yet, so he continues.
“be together. It was me who kept pursuing her time and time again.” Jungkook runs a hand through his hair.
“So…you’re telling me that you have feelings for my mother?” Dash tilts his head, dark eyes staring intently at Jungkook. He wants to laugh at the circumstances. For years it’s just been him and his mom and now she had someone who loved her, but it was someone he brought into her life.
“Yes.” Jungkook nods, now lifting his head to look at Dash. “I do.”
“How long?” questions Dash hastily.
“H-How long what?”
“How long have you loved her?”
Jungkook exhales. “A few years,” he murmurs.
“You’ve been fucking my mom-”
“No!” Jungkook shakes his head. “It started a few months ago!”
Dash scoffs.
“I,” Jungkook feels like ripping his hair out. “she was nice. She treated me kindly. She cooked for me just as she did for you and-”
“You have mommy issues.” Dash blurt out, his eyebrows knitted together. “She was just being motherly, Kook, seriously.”
Dash takes a deep breath, shaking his head in disbelief. This entire time he considered Jungkook a brother to him, one he always told his mother he wanted - even if he was fine with just the two of them. Instead, someone so close to him had looked at his mother differently.
With warm cheeks, Jungkook nods a bit. “I know,” he mumbles. “my cousin tells me all the time.”
“Your cousin knows you’re fucking someones mom?”
Jungkook ponders if things would change if Dash knew just who his cousin was.
“Unfortunately.” sighs Jungkook. “She…wasn’t supposed to find out, either.” he murmurs, a warmth returning to his cheeks at just how embarrassing it all was witnessing Sumi that night with Dash.
“What was your plan?”
Jungkook runs a hand through his hair, an action he did often while nervous. “I don’t know,” he admits. It wasn’t a total lie. He had every intention of courting you, he thinks. Though, it wasn’t supposed to all end up like this. Dash wasn’t supposed to find out in such a way, you weren’t supposed to cut him out. Now, everything had to be done differently and day by day, he was working overtime. “I wanted to tell you-”
“That you were fucking my mom.” Dash deadpans.
“No!” Jungkook hisses. “I mean, that I loved her! You…I thought I had time. I thought…after graduation-”
“That you’d run in the sunset with my mother?” Dash snickers, this time the corner of his lips curves upwards by how hilarious that sounds. “You’re a man in college just as I am. She’s out of your league.”
Jungkook would argue that he was more than deserving, but then that would be to admit who he was and what he was doing here. It’s no secret that Dash isn’t fond of his paternal family and how “snobbish” they were to those they deemed unworthy. The Jeon family were far beyond that of the Lee and admitting that he was, in the words of his cousins, pretending to be lesser than, he’d surely despise him even more.
“I know she is.” Jungkook murmurs a response. “But I was working on it all. I was going to prove myself.”
The more Jungkook speaks, he realizes how foolish he may have sounded each time he told you. He had nothing to show to you how serious he was besides promises he wouldn’t reveal until college was over.
“And then what?” Dash questions. “You and her would tell me over dinner?”
“Well I haven’t made it that far yet, Dash.” Jungkook retorts. “I was going to tell you as soon as-”
Dash raises his brows.
“-she agreed. She…she didn’t take me seriously, either.” Jungkook’s shoulders falter as he speaks it aloud. He admits, though Dash obviously is holding himself back from attacking him further, it felt good to speak with him about this.
Quietly, Dash roams his eyes away from Jungkook and towards the ground. It’s obvious neither of them know what to say next. What he’s gathered from speaking to his mother and Jungkook, that there were feelings developed along the way. She could try to hide it, but he knows his mother well enough.
“You remember what you told me?” Jungkook speaks first this time. “When your father came into town, that is.”
Dash shakes his head.
In a way, Jungkook knew he wouldn’t. It isn’t something that Dash said entirely too serious, but he had.
“Do you care for him?”
Dash snorts. “Is that actually a question you’re asking me?” he asks. He’s sure he couldn't care less for his father, especially knowing that he was planning on selling the same house he bought for them. However, he supposed it was just a matter of time before Lee Dae came and took everything from them.
Jungkook shrugs one shoulder. “Just making sure,” he murmurs. “You’re already upset with me about getting involved with one parent.”
Dash tilts his head. “How could you be involved with him?”
Sooner or later, Dash would know who he was, Jungkook thinks.
“What if I told you that I’m the reason he was arrested?” Jungkook begins, slowly speaking each word as he examines Dash’s expression.
“Go on.”
So Jungkook does. He leaves a few details out, but he’s said enough. He admit that it was him who called in the domestic dispute, and when asked if he was there with his mother, Jungkook had to assure he didn’t put you under the bus. After all, Dash is under the impression that you cut Jungkook off, and in a way you did, but not fully like you should’ve. “I was there that day.” Jungkook admits, swallowing a lump in his throat. “I saw your dad leave, hurling out insults after the next. She…wouldn’t let me in to talk to her.”
So what if Jungkook bent the truth in his favor?
“I saw the mess in the background, the look on her face.” Jungkook shrugs once more. “Then I remembered what you told me that day before we had dinner with them.”
Dash is intrigued, dare he say. He didn’t think Jungkook would be the reason Lee Dae had been arrested and the start of a downfall for the Lee family. It revealed the bankruptcy which soon spiraled to his cousins being exposed for their own doings.
“If there was a way for her to get rid of him for good, she’d take it.” Jungkook repeats those words Dash spoke, the same one that he took as bond. “The public image of a wealthy family is everything, right? Lee Dae is not only a deadbeat father, but is a broke abuser.”
For a moment, Dash is quiet to process it all. His face is unreadable and Jungkook begins to think that maybe he’s spoken too soon.
Then Dash laughs. His head falls back and he releases it, his chest rising and falling. Jungkook hadn’t heard that same laugh in so long, he thinks. He recalls the nights the two of them had together at the dorm, eating greasy pizza after a night out. He enjoyed listening to Dash ramble on about everything and nothing all at once, moments he took for granted.
“This life is new to me.”
Jungkook watches as Dash lays down, his hands behind his head and eyes upwards the ceiling.
“Having cousins and grandparents.” Dash continues. “My grandmother keeps inviting me over for dinners. My grandfather said I could inherit his company. It doesn’t seem real.”
Jungkook stands to his feet. “That’s great, isn’t it?!”
Dash shrugs.
“It is.” Jungkook assures, far more excited than Dash was, but that was because he wasn’t from this life. He and Sumi weren’t doing things behind the scenes for nothing. “It doesn’t seem real because you’re different from them. You actually know what it’s like to work for the things you want. I’ve heard about your…cousins.”
Dash snorts. “I’m sure everyone has.”
“That means you’re,” Jungkook states. “next in line. Big inheritance and a company-”
“That I have no idea how to run.” Dash deadpans. “Seems like a never ending headache to me.”
“It’s not going to happen overnight.” Jungkook states. “You have time, that is. But this isn’t the point now.”
“And what is the point?” Dash asks, glancing at Jungkook.
Taking a deep breath, Jungkook responds. “To beg for forgiveness.”
You felt like you were living life backwards. As soon as you realized you were pregnant by that man, you were forced to grow up faster than the rest of your friends. While they went to college, you found yourself a job that was flexible enough for you to raise Dash until he started school.
You worked what felt like nonstop, not taking any unnecessary breaks and in your eyes, it worked out. Dash life could only go up from here.
Yours, however, you aren’t so sure. You were living backwards because while you’re sure your friends lived their own lives in college - dating or sleeping around - you were raising a child. Now, you were experiencing something you could have experienced in your early twenties.
You told yourself that you were done entertaining whatever it was you had with Jungkook. Your reality check should’ve come that night when Dash found you and Jungkook together, but of course it hadn’t - living life backwards. You allowed Jungkook right back into your home yet again while he was drunk and highly emotional that led to a night of intense passionate sex that you constantly think about.
Which also led you here with a positive pregnancy test sitting on your bathroom counter. You stare at it intensely, hoping that maybe you were just illiterate. That the 8 letter word clearly written on the test didn’t mean what it actually did. However, the other 4 you took and promptly threw away couldn’t be lying, either.
You close your eyes, inhaling deeply through your nose. All these years, you were careful. Sure, you had hookups, but they led nowhere - and definitely not to a pregnancy.
You’ve gotten careless. Dash being out of the home caused you to live the life you didn’t in your youth. Only, you weren’t young anymore - you were a mother to a soon to be college graduate; one you just got back into good graces with.
You do what you do best, however. Throw away the test and do what you were planning on doing this morning.
You haven’t heard from Dae in nearly a month, something you were grateful for. But you knew the man well and if he said he was coming for your home, he meant it. Packing up everything you owned was a hassle, but you managed well with Dash coming and assisting. You and he spoke little and at the end of it, you both ate.
“I’m having dinner with them tonight.” Dash murmurs, shoving nearly half of the sandwich into his mouth.
You stop chewing. “Hm?”
“My…grandparents?” Dash swallows. It doesn’t sound less weird the more he says it aloud. “It’s a family dinner, apparently. They want me to,” he shrugs his shoulders. “grow accustomed to the family.”
Slowly, you nod your head. “That’s good.” It sounds more like a question than a statement. “You call me if that asshole tries anything.” your mood shifts instantly once you remember that Lee Dae is indeed family. “What changed your mind?”
Dash takes another few bites of his sandwich before responding. “Jungkook.”
Your ears perk at the name. You try your best not to react too much, afraid that maybe Dash was looking for a reaction out of you. Instead, you take a sip of your water.
“He apologized.” Dash continues. “Over and over again.”
Your stomach churns. You’ve managed to avoid Jungkook - how, you weren’t sure yourself - since that time you fell into temptation. Phone sex with the very man you told yourself you’d stay away from - living backwards.
“Are you two friends again?” you couldn’t help but ask. It weighs on you that you could have ruined something great for Dash and Jungkook.
Dash’s chewing slows a bit, contemplating the question. He tilts his head, voice a bit muffled. “Do you love him?” he questions.
Your stomach churns once more. “W-Why do you ask?” you shake your head. You haven’t given him a direct response the last time he asked.
“He told me he loves you.” Dash swallows, picking up the bottled water and downing the majority of it. “Said he has for a while now.”
Your mouth salivates and you attempt to swallow the uncomfortable feeling in your throat.
“Dash,” you exhale. You run a hand through your forehead. “it’s complicated.”
“To know if you love someone or if it was just sexual?” Dash knits his brows together. “I know I didn’t love Hana.”
Hana, you think.You remember the girl you’ve seen for dinner and never again. Definitely not the girl you’ve witnessed with him the night he found you with Jungkook.
“I know I like Sumi.” Dash continues. “I’m not sure if it’s love yet but…” he trails off, humming to himself just a bit “...I know it could come to that. She’s also the one that encouraged me to accept my inheritance and eventually the company.”
You widen your eyes. “Su…mi…” you say the name slowly. You want to ask questions as any mother would, but you’re unsure if it’s safe as of yet. You’re unsure if you could even show your face to her without feeling like an utter embarrassment of a mother. “I’m happy you have her.”
And it’s words that you mean. Dash is young and he has a long life to live. You’ll be happy whatever path he goes down that leads him into a life of succession.
Dash hums, watching you for a bit. You’re back to cleaning up, washing a few dishes and drying them by hand. Then, you proceed to wrap it in several newspapers before placing them inside a labeled box. He exhales through his nose. “I want you to have someone, too.”
You look up from the box you were now taping up. Again, your stomach churns.
“You’ve been alone-”
“Oh, wow.” you scrunch your brows together, only a bit offended. “I’m glad that you think I’ll be nothing but an old cat lady.” you joke.
Dash’s lips curl upwards. “You’d have about 5 if I wasn’t allergic.” he says, and for a split moment he recalls his skin reddening and his eyes watering at just being in the presence of one for far too long. 10 minutes to be exact. “What I mean is…” Dash takes a deep breath. “...I want you to be happy, too.”
“I am happy.” you murmur, voice low. You push the box aside. “Why do you think I’m not?”
“You put your life on hold to raise me alone. You didn’t have many friends or partners that lasted.”
This time, your heart jolts along with your churning stomach.
“And…I liked it when it was just the two of us at times. But,” Dash feels weird speaking so sentimentally with you. “I want you to have someone, too. Someone you love.”
Dash blinks his gaze to you. You notice the look on his face, one of uncertainty. Uncomfortableness.
“Dash-”
“Jungkook loves you.” Dash blurts out, his cheeks warm. He inhaled deeply, mentally counting for a few seconds before exhaling.
Oh, you think, and of course your stomach does more than churns. It rumbles loudly.
“I don’t understand it-”
Oh, you think once more. You nearly forgot that though Jungkook had something for older women, that your son didn’t. He thought women your age had to be nearing a nursing home.
“-but I can tell it’s more than something sexual. I started to think back to all the times when we’ve all been together. The way Jungkook would act when you weren’t around.”
You lean against the counter, staring intently at Dash as he rambles on. Your mouth continues to salivate but you swallow it back.
“And…I…love the two of you. A lot.” Dash looks away, his cheeks continue to warm. “So if…y-you don’t need my permission to date, of course, but…if you want to be with Jungkook,”
You feel it in the back of your throat now. You place a hand onto your mouth and attempt to keep it back.
“then I’ll respect it. As long as he makes you happy then I can move past it.”
Dash flinches when he hears you heave, and suddenly vomit all over the newly clean sink. He pushes himself back, the stool scraping against the floor. “M-Ma, are you okay?” he gasps.
You nod your head, wiping your mouth. You turn on the sink quickly. “I-I’m fine.” you lie. “J-Just wasn’t expecting that.”
Dash sighs, his shoulders slumping. You clean your mouth with the water. “You threw up because I gave you my blessing?” he deadpans.
No, you think, you vomited because you were obviously pregnant and the morning sickness was now getting to you. But, you would admit that Dash’s words did cause your heart to swell and your mind to swirl.
“Mommy~”
There’s a bouquet of roses in your face just as you open your front door. The breeze from outside runs through your home and seemingly echos off of the walls, having little furniture to dance through.
“Jungkook…” you trail off, your eyes glancing from the large bouquet to the man holding them behind them.
Jungkook’s sporting a wide grin, dark round eyes sparkling.
“...what are you doing here?” you question, taking the roses from the man.
“I came to see you, of course.” Jungkook responds. “I want to take you out.”
You snicker. “Take me out?”
Jungkook doesn’t find anything he said amusing. You on the other hand do.
Last week was when you spoke to Dash about, in his words, having his blessing to pursue Jungkook if you desired. It was the last time you and he spoke about it at all, you recall, as it was awkward for the both of you to.
You’re sure Dash has given the same speech to Jungkook himself as since that day, a new set of roses has ended up on your doorstep. Only this time, it was accompanied by Jungkook himself.
“Yes.” Jungkook nods. “I want to take you out on a date.”
Jungkook’s dressed casually, you note, a dark denim jacket that matches his jeans perfectly. “And where do you suggest we go?”
Jungkook’s smile widens. “Well, of course I want to show you off to the world as mine, but we know you wouldn’t do it.” he starts, and you roll your eyes. “So I was thinking a movie! It’ll be something easy to start with since we don’t have to hide anymore.”
“I see.” you hum. You turn around and step inside your home. Jungkook follows you, closing the door behind him. His eyes trail around the semi-empty home, labeled boxes neatly stacked on one another. “I’m sure Dash has spoken to you…about us?”
You were running out of space to fit the flowers. Most of your counters were already taking up previous bouquets.
“Yes.” Jungkook leans against the island as you round it to find room for the new set of roses. “I’m not going to lie, I didn’t think it’d ever happen,” he admits.
Jungkook remembers the night Dash had returned back late one night. The conversation began smoothly at first, with him asking subtle questions, that then led on to his childhood and how you always prioritized him over anything else. It made it easier for Dash to speak to him without looking in his eyes in the dark room, stating that he wouldn’t come in the way of whatever relationship he and you had.
“You wasted no time.” you tease, glancing up at the older man. “I was actually on my way out.”
“I noticed. I came to surprise you.” Jungkook hums. “Where were you going?”
You remain silent, pondering on Jungkook’s question.
You couldn’t tell the younger man where you were going. Nor could you tell him about the positive pregnancy tests you took - or the doctor visit that confirmed it.
“An appointment.” you respond coolly. “Just a check up.” you shrug your shoulders, but Jungkook notices the way your eyes glance away from his. “Have you been feeling sick? Dash told me you weren’t feeling well last week.”
You can feel your stomach churning right now just thinking about it all.
“What movie did you want to see?” you ask. You needed to change the subject entirely. You could always reschedule for tomorrow, you think. You had enough time.
“Whatever movie you’d want to see.” Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. “I heard Attack of the Killer Space-”
“You have to be joking.” you scoff. “Of all the movies, you would want to see that.”
“I heard that it was so bad, that it’s good!” Jungkook laughs, his hair bouncing as tosses his head back. “I don’t care what we watch, mommy, as long as we’re together.”
“You’re so corny.” you murmur. “Attack of the Killer Space Beetles it is, then.”
The theater was empty upon arrival and it was something both you and Jungkook expected. The seats are at the very top, the leather making noise as you and Jungkook sit down. The lights were already off and the movie had just begun when you and Jungkook arrived.
“I have our new five dates planned out.” Jungkook murmurs to you. He places his slushie in the cup holder to his right and opposite of you.
“Who says I’m going to keep going out with you?” you tease. “People are going to think I’m your mom.”
“I think you overestimate your appearance.” Jungkook lifts the arm rest that divides the two of you. “Besides, I call you mommy all the time.”
It’s embarrassing how quickly it took for Jungkook to be on you in the dark theater. Both of your seats are declined and his lips trail kisses along your neck, his tattooed hand holding you close.
“Kook-”
“Stop, no one’s coming in.” Jungkook interrupts, sinking his teeth teasingingly into your neck. “They don’t get paid enough to check on us, either.”
Your mind tells you that maybe this was Jungkook’s plan. Choose a bullshit movie that no one would see just so he could get you alone - something he could’ve done in the household, yet that wasn’t fun for a man his age, right? Especially not when he could freely hold your hand in public now.
“I missed you, mommy.”
Jungkook’s tongue trails upwards.
“I missed you, too.” you admit. Jungkook captures your lips on his own, his tongue sliding into your mouth to dance along yours.
There’s a familiar ache between your legs that only Jungkook is able to cause. You aren’t sure why you’re allowing this as if you’re his age, but it’s fun. It’s different - it’s new to you. You couldn’t ever resist Jungkook when it’s just the two of you and this only proves that he still has it wrapped around his finger.
“I should have known you didn’t have good intentions bringing me here.”
Even in the dark theater, you can still see Jungkook’s smirk. The shadows from the screen dance off his handsome face.
“You haven’t told me to stop yet.”
Jungkook’s hands are warm as they reach underneath your shirt, cupping your breast.
“I wanted to make our first official date memorable.” Jungkook squeezes your breast tightly. “Making you cum right here while Attack of the Killer Space Beetles play in the background.”
“You’re not fucking me here.” you say sternly.
“Of course not.” Jungkook nods. “That doesn’t mean you can’t cum.”
Jungkook tugs at your bra enough so your breast pops out. His free hand shoves your shirt up. Immediately, your eyes glance down towards the entrance.
“It’s too dark in here for anyone to even see what we’re doing.” Jungkook assures. “I don’t wanna wait any longer to taste them again.”
Jungkook wraps his greedy lips around your nipple, groaning against it. His free hand roughly shoves your shirt up and your bra down to release the other breast. He grips it in his palm, resulting in a surprised gasp from you. Your back arches a bit at the action, but sensations shoot right between your legs.
Jungkook pops your nipple from his lips, wet and hard. He goes towards the other one, his tongue circling the bed teasingly.
“Ah!” you moan, your eyes fluttering.
“Such pretty tits you have, mommy. I can’t believe I’ve gone so long without sucking them.” Jungkook grunts. “Now I don’t have to anymore~”
Jungkook’s fingers twist the free nipple between his thumb and index finger, tugging on it in a way that makes you moan even louder. This only makes you wetter and wetter, the pounding between your legs growing by the second.
“You suck them so good, Kookie.” you couldn’t help but praise him. You were just a woman, yourself, who craved him just as much as he craved you. “You must’ve really missed me, huh?”
“Fuck,” Jungkook captures the nipple entirely now, and between suckles he says, “so much, mommy. Missed you so fucking much.”
The theater is loud, dramatic music booming off of the walls along with screaming people running on the screen. Whatever is happening in the movie, you’re unaware. You’re far too enthralled in Jungkook and the way he suckles on your breast as if his life depended on it. Even in the dark, you can see just how captivated he is by it all - popping the bud from his lips just to circle it with the tip of his tongue teasingly.
“I bet you’re so wet right now.” Jungkook murmurs, eyes flickering up to meet yours. Your expression is one he missed experiencing. “You’re so pretty, mommy~”
Jungook doesn’t hesitate. He’s got you right where he wants you; all to himself. His hand reaches down to your jeans and swiftly undones the button. His hands sneak their way through while your thighs widen to allow him.
“I knew I was right!” Jungkook grunts, greedy fingers making their way through your panties to touch your clit. It’s puffy and throbbing - and soaked. “Pussy missed being played with, huh?”
“Y-Yes!” you nod, warmth filling your cheeks. Jungkook’s dynamic always catches you off guard - for the better . In an instant, he could go from the sweet, submissive cutie who suckled on your breast like it was his life force, to a dominant man that spoke so vulgar to you.
If Jungkook could, he’d have you right here. He’d pull your jeans right off, push your panties aside and fuck you until you were full of him. But he understands that he couldn’t go that far - not here at least.
Jungkook’s finger trails along your clit, not even bothering on starting off softly. No, he knows you. He knows just how you want it.
Jungkook often thinks back to the first time he’s approached you right in the kitchen of your home. He’s found your profile, the flashing “There’s HOT MILFS in your area waiting for YOU to FUCK THEM!” right above the picture of your naked body. Any other time Jungkook would’ve ignored it, but he knew that face. It was you, of all people. The same woman he’s silently pinned after and in his mind, it was a sign.
Your pussy is messy and leaking. Your hand reaches out to wrap around Jungkook’s wrist for support. “K-Kook!” you mewl out, thighs trembling.
“You like that, mommy?” Jungkook snickers. Your breast bounces just a bit and it captivates Jungkook back towards your hardened nipples once more. Again, his lips wrap around it, suckling on it until it’s swollen and glistening. “Let’s see,”
You gasp out, eyes widening a bit when Jungkook’s twirling fingers slide down - quite easily due to how soaked you are - to your clenching hole. He dips in two fingers easily until they’re knuckles deep.
Your head falls back against the leather seat, your stomach churning. Jungkook’s finger thrusts in and out of you, screams now erupting throughout the theater. A week prior Jungkook had seen this same movie just to see how ridiculous it was. The main actress, he’d admit, was attractive, but that was all. The cgi was terrible and he’s unsure why it was showing in theaters at all.
“Fuck, Kookie, it feels so good!” you groan, your lower back arching so you could feel more of Jungkook’s thrusting fingers. Your eyes squeeze shut, mind going blank. You hadn’t realized just how much you missed Jungkook - his tongue, his fingers; just him. Your own fingers or vibrator wasn’t a match for the man that is Jeon Jungkook.
“I want you to cum all over my fingers, mommy.” Jungkook’s teeth graze into the skin of your breast, adding enough pressure to assure that he leaves his mark. “You’re so wet. I can’t wait to taste you later.”
You bite your lip, but somehow a moan slips through. The thought of Jungkook between your legs again has your stomach churning again, the throbbing only intensifying.
“You’re gripping my fingers, mommy. You want my tongue, don’t you?” Jungkook asks smugly. “I’ll eat this pussy all night. Gotta make up for the times you took away from me~”
“I-I’m gonna cum!” you hiss, your legs closing around Jungkook’s hand. “You always make mommy feel so good, baby.”
Jungkook groans, his cock throbbing in his pants. And like that, the switch flips and he changes. He goes back to the whimpering, submissive Kookie you knew, the one that would beg so sweetly in your ear.
“Fuck, mommy, I need you.” Jungkook sighs, pounding his fingers inside your gummy walls. His fingertips slam against that sweetspot. “I need to feel this sweet pussy around me again.”
You’re cumming, hard and fast. Your moaning is drowned out by the sound of the CGI Space Beetles being blown to pieces. Your grip on Jungkook’s wrist loosens, your chest rising and falling as you pant.
Whenever you were with Jungkook, your mind always failed to act right. You’ve done things you’d never thought about doing - like being in a cramped cinema stall with the younger man. You're lucky that said cinema is nearly empty with even younger employees that could care less about roaming the halls.
The restrooms are located at the far end of the cinema, so quiet that you could hear pieces of another movie from theater 16 right across from the rest room.
“Fuuuuck,” Jungkook groans as he enters you, his cock sliding deep inside of you. “so wet and so tight.”
Jungkook’s hands are tight around your waist, his cock plunging in and out of you so needily. Your pussy is squelching only loud enough to echo off of the quiet restroom walls. Your body is pressed against the cool stall door, your breast bouncing against it with each thrust.
“You g-gotta slow down, Kookie.” you pant, but the way your cunt squeezes around his cock tells him otherwise.
“No one’s here, mommy.” Jungkook’s thrusts are hard and quick, your ass slamming against his groin. “I don’t think I could hold back from fucking this pussy. It’s been too long.”
Jungkook isn’t wrong, you think. It’s been far too long and you’re far too weak to fight for silence - so you don’t. Instead, you moan even louder, your mind blurring until all you could focus on was the cock you’d miss inside of you. Your thighs are soaked with both cum and your juices, his cock messy with creamy white arousal.
“Then don’t hold back, baby.” you choke out, widening your thighs. The sane part of you - the one who would think about this moment with slight regret and judgment - is screaming. This is the exact reason why you, a grown woman with a grown son the same age as the man you’re fucking, was pregnant. “Show mommy how much you missed her pussy.”
And show you Jungkook does, over and over again. His nails dig into your soft, hot skin, angry cock pounding into your cervix so aggressively, stretching you so obscenely. He’s merciless, leaving you utterly sloppy and begging for more.
A hand reaches around your neck to bring you back against his chest. Jungkook’s tongue licks up from your neck, to your ear before forcing its way towards your mouth. You open your mouth wider to invite him into a messy kiss, your whimpers now suffocating in his mouth.
“Gonna fuck this pussy all night, mommy. Make up all the time I had lost.” Jungkook says against your wet mouth. “This pussy was made for me, mommy. It’s finally all mine to claim.”
Your hip is let go, but that doesn’t mean Jungkook takes his hands off of you. No, he has to torture you even more. He finds your puffy clit, his fingers twirling the bud aggressively, your cunt squeezing his cock even tighter - just how he likes it.
“All yours, Kookie.” you mewl out, tongue sliding against his sloppily. There’s a trail of saliva pooling from your lips, but neither of you care. It’s messy and completely obscene, but both of you are far too fucked out to give a damn. “Want you to fill me up aaalll night.”
You prided yourself on being a responsible adult for over two decades and now you’re throwing everything out for amazing dick. This, you remind yourself, was why you were pregnant. You cancelled your appointment to fix this very problem - a problem you told yourself you would keep to yourself and take with you to your grave - for this very dick.
“You’re so dirty.” Jungkook gasps, but he’s just as determined as you are to cum in you. His thrusts become sloppy, fingers circling erratically against your clit, juices coating your thighs.
You cum hard, your eyes squeezed shut tightly that you’re seeing nothing but stars. You’re panting, chest rising and falling and you’re a trembling mess of overstimulation.
Jungkook isn’t far behind you. His thrusts are sloppy, yet still deep and passionate. He doesn’t care about being quiet as with each thrust, he’s groaning loudly, spewing out - “shit, shit, shit” until he himself is cumming deep inside of you, so much that the seed spews out and down your thighs.
It takes five minutes for the both of you to come down from the high and another five minutes for you to get cleaned up. You’re grateful that you and Jungkook weren’t caught, the adrenaline you felt while doing the do now dies down and like you knew you would, you regret every decision you’ve made. However, you would be lying if you said you didn’t think it was fun - and entirely hot, especially with the way Jungkook looks at you through the restroom mirror. You finish washing your hands and you turn to face him.
“I’m hungry.” Jungkook says, coming closer to you. He leans down a bit to capture your lips. “I want steak.” he murmurs against your lips.
“I bet you are.” you say back, your body moving before your mind could and you wrap your arms around his neck and bring him into another kiss. “I have steak at home. I was planning on cooking in case Dash was coming over.”
“He’s with Sumi tonight.” Jungkook responds, pressing another kiss onto your lips. He missed kissing you. “How about I cook for us tonight? Then, I’ll fuck you into the mattress-”
You push at his chest gently and roll your eyes. “You have a dirty mouth.” you joke, but the words do have you swallowing at the possibilities of the night to come. “You’re wasting no time, huh?”
Jungkook leans away. “Of course not. What I say even during sex, I mean.” Jungkook responds. “I plan on courting you the right way. No more sneaking around.”
Jungkook looks at you, his eyes serious.
“And I plan on having a future with you.”
You break eye contact first. You round Jungkook and go towards the restroom door. You open in slowly, your eyes scanning to see if anyone was near. When you see no one, you exit, Jungkook close behind you.
“I’m serious,” Jungkook captures your shoulder to stop you from going further. “about everything I said.”
You exhale, unaware that you’d been holding your breath this long.
“Kook-”
“No.” Jungkook interrupts. “We don’t have to talk about it here. Or now.” he murmurs. He didn’t want to scare you away. Everything was still new. It would take time for you to get back out there publicly and not hide behind closed doors anymore. He didn’t want to rush anything, but he wanted you to know that he wanted you.
“I want you to know that-”
Your phone rings in your pockets. Jungkook stops his speech. He watches the way you seemingly pale, your eyes zoning in on the number on your screen. “I gotta take this.” you murmur. “How about you go to the car? I’ll meet you out there.”
Jungkook blinks. “O…Okay?”
You offer a smile - a strained one - before entering the restroom. Jungkook lingers for a few moments. He doesn’t listen. Instead, he presses his hands gently onto the door and cracks it open.
Your voice is low and muffled, but the restroom is so quiet that he can hear you.
“Yes, I had to reschedule the appointment.” you say. “No…I’m not having second thoughts. I need the procedure done.” There’s a few more seconds of silence. “Yes, I’ll get on birth control. I think that’ll be best after.”
Jungkook shuts the restroom door. He turns on his heels and makes his way down the hall. His mind swirls with what little he’s heard.
Reschedule the appointment.
Second thoughts.
Procedure.Birth control after.
trivia-yandere: okay so like what are we thinking??
Mind Games
Ship: Toxic BestFriend!Jungkook x ToxicBestFriend!Reader
Description: You and Jungkook are the most toxic best friends imaginable. The possessiveness, the constant arguments, the whole package. But why were you both so jealous when you weren’t even dating?
Warnings: HardDom!JK, Brat!Reader, BratTamer!JK, Talk, Degrading, Sadism/Masochism, BDSM, Hate Sex, Double Fingering (Hehehe), Orgasm Denial, Edging, Punishment, Spanking, Slapping, Degradation/Humiliation, Overstimulation, Choking, Minor Cucking? You'll see (Not what you think), Praising, Pussy Slapping, Masturbation, Orgasm Denial, Love Making, Slut Shaming (JK receiving), Oral Sex, Extremely Toxic Friendship/Relationship!!!! Yandere themes from both characters, extremely unlikeable (unless you're into that sort of thing) Reader!!, Best Friends to Lovers, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Manipulation, Obsession, Weed
Word Count: 23.1k
A/N: This was the original idea of Deal With It/And Find Out, but had made a lot of changes with the characters to make them more palatable and to test out the waters. These characters lean far more in depth with the toxic dynamic I originally had in mind. It was inspired by the video game The Coffin of Andy and LeyLey. Regardless, I hope you enjoy it! Alternate Enhypen Sunghoon version can be found as ParadoXXX by @m-hypen.
There's an old Greek myth that explains why people are drawn to each other, always trying to find the one, their perfect fit.
Long ago, people were not in the forms they know today. Rather, they were attached back to back, never even facing each other, but could feel the other with every move they made. They could be two men, two women, a man and a woman, or a myriad of other combinations. They were always two, and at the same time one. They had four arms, four legs, two heads. An amalgamation of flesh and limbs, moving as one, a partner connected to them in every sense of the word. They could never leave each other's sides, and they would always know each other's souls. They were powerful, beautiful beings, who had to be punished for their hubris, as stories of humanity often go. The gods separated them in half, dividing the limbs from eight to four, the heads from two to one.
Forever, humans were destined to search for the soul who was once tethered to their own, their missing piece.
A human without their soulmate wasn't truly human yet at all, not in the same, completed sense they were before. It's what drives us to search for them without ever being told to, that has us brush paths with other minds and other beings until we find the familiar touch we ached for all along, without ever even realizing it.
Most people were lucky to meet their soulmate by the time they were in their 30s. Others found theirs by the time they were middle aged. Some never found theirs at all.
You were luckier than most, having found the one when you were all but five.
You could barely even recall the memory. Not what you said, not what he said, it was all a blur. All you remembered was the moment your eyes met his, and how every atom in your body was drawn to him, knowing that this was the person you had spent every previous life searching for. And now he had practically fallen into your lap.
He had known it, too. He knew no matter what you did, no matter what came between you, he was yours.
Your parents weren't around much when you were growing up, and when they saw you attached to the hip with the neighbor boy, they figured he had it covered. "Jungkook will take care of you," they had said, not wanting to deal with whatever trouble you had caused back when you were still seeking their affection. As if it were actually worth something. "You're his problem."
Perhaps you took it a bit too much to heart.
When you'd get picked on during recess he was the one who stood up to your bullies. (Well, he tried.) Sometimes they'd retaliate, their aggression being redirected from you to your poor friend. (He'd still have to fight, because you got in a lot less trouble when you used your hands rather than whatever was sharpies nearby, which was your usual move.) It was usually you who started it in the first place, too. If Jungkook didn't get there in time to step between you, however, it often ended up worse, with him tagging along as you were dragged to the principal's office for whatever nefarious scheme you had cooked up. You expected him to come with you each time it happened, you didn't even have to ask. You always got everything you wanted, especially from him. He'd sit with you in every detention you received even if he didn't do anything wrong. He'd always apologize on your behalf to whoever you pissed off that day with your abrasiveness and foul mouth. When he got his first part time job, much of his tiny paychecks were spent on taking you out to eat and buying you gifts when he happened to piss you off— which was a lot.
A part of Jungkook acknowledged you were a burden— something you would accuse him of thinking over and over again but he'd never admit. (At least, not out loud.) Great emphasis had been put on the fact that he was expected to stay by your side through anything. He was supposed to be your protector, your mentor, your best friend since birth. Given that he was the one born a few weeks earlier, he was put in charge of your well-being. It's not like your folks really wanted to parent anyway, too busy booking cruises and leaving the responsibility on Jungkook's shoulders. His parents gave less of a shit about it than yours did. They were to preoccupied with image, a large part of it involving your futures. They'd coo and awe at the idea of the two of you growing up and getting married, so much so that you yourself proclaimed it as fate when you two were all but five.
Jungkook's always been expected to spend his entire life with you.
You were constantly getting in trouble though, refusing to make serious connections with anyone else because you had him. You always had him. Any text you sent him and, no matter how busy, he was at your place within the hour. You were his problem to fix, over and over again, no matter what prior engagements he had planned to spend away from you. It's not like you ever wanted him to be away from you, though. He really was your only friend, or at least the only one you actually liked. Eventually he was able to convince you to at least pretend to be friends with others, for appearances' sake. He thought a bit of feminine influence could do you some good, and to an extent you did. You weren't exactly fond of the new "friends" you had to make, however. You pretty much openly disdained everyone except for Jungkook.
Though sometimes you openly hated him too.
Especially when his attention was directed anywhere other than you. You'd scoff and have an attitude whenever he went out with fellow classmates at university, and throw a major bitch fit if it happened to be a girl. Any chick Jungkook so much as mentioned would have you seeing red.
What could he possibly need her for any way? Was she just another one of the sluts he kept on the side that he thought you didn't know about? After all, how could you not hear about it when your "friends" have been telling you rumors about your best friend since high school? What did those cunts have that you weren't providing for him? Were they just another tool for him, the way your friends were for you? It's not like he could connect with any of them, not the way he does with you.
You were born with an innate corruption that never seemed to go away. From a spoiled toddler, trouble maker kid, rebellious teenager, and now bitchy adult, you never quite found yourself able to relate to the people around you. They were all so fucking boring and stupid, anything they had to offer simply coming off as dull to you. You didn't need any of these dimwits, their fake smiles and false concern. Jungkook was all you needed.
You knew Jungkook saw the darkness in you. The way he'd give you a glare before speaking to whatever teacher was reprimanding you. The way he told you "Don't." at times when you barely opened your mouth, knowing exactly what you were thinking and what you were about to say, and that the results would be calamitous at best. The exasperation in his voice when he had to diffuse whatever situation you caused. The annoyance in his tone when you'd spam him with calls or texts when he wasn't answering. Whenever he called you a psycho bitch when you were yelling at him about wanting to fuck whatever girl happened to approach the two of you that day. He wasn't blind to it— he bore witness to everything. He had to watch and study your every move for years, because he knew if he kept his eyes off of you for even a second, he'd face the consequences one way or another.
Sometimes you wondered why he stayed. Was it just because he was expected to by your parents? Surely he would've ditched you as soon as the two of you became adults. Did he love you, despite everything you constantly put him through? He always seemed so put out though when you'd interrogate him on that type of answer, asking if he loved his "new girlfriend" (latest fuck) more than you, if she was prettier than you. The answer was always no. But then again, Jeon Jungkook was always a big fat liar, so how could you ever trust him?
You came to the conclusion that whatever sinister wickedness you possessed, he did too. Maybe he wasn't as bad as you, but he was also far better at hiding it. Some twisted link the two of you shared kept you unable to let go of each other.
That didn't stop you from worrying over that exact thing, though, every minute of every day.
No matter how many times Jungkook assured you he'd never leave you, you never seemed to fully believe him. It's been that way well over twenty years now, and Jungkook is beginning to suspect it'll be a permanent fixture of his life.
Jungkook wondered himself sometimes why he stayed with you. You were a total conniving bitch, constantly manipulating him into doing what you want and throwing tantrums when you weren't his absolute top priority. God forbid he openly date another girl. He knew you weren't completely stupid— he was messy at times. He'd slip up and something would throw a wrench in his plans despite him usually thinking three steps ahead. Better than the impulsive streak you bore. Still, he made an effort to hide any of his secret relationships from you. Even when the girls begged and insisted on making things official, Jungkook had to tell them otherwise. Over and over again they'd ask him to pick them over his best friend, and every time it guaranteed a fast exit for him. His answer was always the same and unwavering. He was unable to commit to any woman, knowing your reaction to any girl becoming an even temporary part of his life would be disastrous. Was sex really worth facing your wrath?
A small, meek part of him was scared you'd actually leave him.
The fear may be irrational, but it's one he's always been anxious of. He used to be terrified about you getting expelled and being sent to another school away from him, out of his sight. He didn't even want you to spend detentions alone, afraid you'd make things worse for yourself without him there. God, the amount of shit he had probably unknowingly saved you from. What if one day you piss of the wrong person and are taken away from him forever? What if you went to jail because of some dumb shit you pulled? He wouldn't even be able to stay inside with you, penitentiaries often being divided by sex.
You were always his responsibility, and though it has been a burden on his life for as long as he could remember, he couldn't stand the thought of you being anyone else's. You were his. His problem. Made for him. He had always known it in his bones.
He'd have to push down the deeper recesses of that thought, however, reminding himself the two of you literally grew up together your entire lives. You were like a sister to him— or as close as he'd ever get to one. Jungkook was constantly reminded of the fact by family, friends, and peers. "They're not like that, they're practically related," people would say when others would question how close the two of you were. "They're basically brother and sister." Something in his stomach churned whenever he heard that, but he knew why it was said. He practically raised you. Hell, he's still teaching you how to behave. He couldn't possibly allow himself to see you that way. He'd stick his dick in whatever he could to make sure of it.
No matter how much you'd try to tempt him.
You'd make teasing remarks and joke about the concept of you two jumping in bed together, much to his (mock) disgust.
"I hope you're not planning on going out in that," Jungkook warned, flipping channels through your TV as you pranced about shorts that tested his patience.
"Why? Don't think they look good on me?" you said playfully.
"No," he deadpanned, not reacting to your (cute) angry pout. "They're indecent."
"Would they look better on the floor, you think?" you teased.
Jungkook's ears burned at that, but he kept his eyes glued to the TV, not wanting to look at your smug face should you interpret his expression for flustered. "Quit embarrassing yourself and go put on actual clothes."
It was your turn to become unnerved this time, your face heating up in both agitation and embarrassment as you scoffed at Jungkook's words. "Fine!" you huffed, trying to ignore the all to0 common twist in your chest at the rejection. Why should you feel so defeated? It's not like you had any hope of a different response... right? Jungkook's always acting disgusted when you make jokes like that. He wasn't your boyfriend, and clearly he never would be. He saw you as his best friend, basically his sister. Never anything more.
But he was so much more to you.
He was your birthright, your possession. Yours. Your Kookie, no matter how often he reminds you to stop calling you by that stupid childhood nickname. Yours. And yours alone.
No matter what whore he ended up taking to bed, he'd always end up kicking them out and going to you in the morning. No matter what psychotic argument you started, how much you'd push his buttons, and how much you'd push the limit, he stayed.
He may yell back. He may put you in your place the way no one else would be able to. He may quell your bratty attitude and bring you back down to Earth even in your bitchiest attitudes.
No matter how much you pushed it though, he stayed.
Though you were so, so scared that one day you were going to take it to far and drive him away for good.
To a certain degree you were self aware of your own behavior. You were exhausting to put up with, and there was a reason beyond your own stubbornness that you only had Jungkook. You couldn't help it, though. Sometimes the resentment and fire would just build up in you and explode with no warning at all.
Today was one of those days.
You yanked Jungkook's headphones off his head, startling and angering him as his game was interrupted. He yelped and glared at you, mouth open to scold you and ask what the fuck you thought you were doing. That is, until he saw what was in your hand, and his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach.
You wore a sneer of absolute disgust as you held up the pair of panties between two fingers, dangling it as far as you could away from you and into his space. The rage permeated off of you in an intimidating aura, sending a chill down Jungkook's spine as you glowered down at him in his gaming chair.
"Found this buried in your couch cushions," you growled in an accusatory tone, tossing them in the trash can by his desk.
Jungkook rose from his chair, leaving his game unattended to. "It's not—"
"What, were you fucking another one of your whores right before I came in? Is that way you didn't have time to clean your disgusting couch?" You wiped your hand across your shirt, as though trying to get off any germs that had transferred from the fabric. "Can't believe you let me sit on that thing after you defiled it. Fucking gross."
Jungkook rolled his eyes, knowing already where this was going. It was a fight that has been rehashed to the death any time you find out a woman has so much as stepped foot in his apartment. "I don't get what the big deal is."
"The big deal is I had to sit on a place where your nasty ass fucked some slut!" You exclaimed, eyes narrowing. "Fucking gross, Jeon. Can't keep your dick in your pants? You just have to nail half the city for, what, your STD collection?"
"I use protection, stop throwing such a bitch fit," Jungkook snapped back, irritated with you already. "So I fucked a girl on my couch—"
"Ha! So you admit it!" You pointed a finger in his face, eyes blazing at his confession. "And to think you were about to pull some bullshit lie up your ass. Oh, don't give me that look Kookie, I know exactly what you were about to say."
Jungkook slapped a palm over his face, letting it drag. He wasn't going to win this. He never did. "And what was that, since you know everything?"
You clasped your hands together, cheeks burning as you felt yourself fume and stew. You couldn't get the picture out of your head. Jungkook, banging some faceless whore on the couch where the two of you watched the entirety of Breaking Bad and half of Netflix. Now when you looked at it you'd only be able to envision him on top of another girl. You know you shouldn't be naive— he's probably used a different girl on every surface of his goddamn apartment. Still, coming face to face with physical proof of his disloyalty set you off like nothing else. With dramatic vitriol, you mimicked your friend's most likely mindless words. "Oh, it's not what you think! Those aren't mine. Those are just a friend's. I'm sure it's an accident! She was no one!"
The girls were apparently always "just no one" to him. They didn't matter. You matter, that's what he always assured you.
Then why did you feel like nothing when you found a piece of fabric wedged between the cushions?
Jungkook crossed his arms, unamused by your theatrics. "She was no one. Why should you even care anyway?"
"Because I do!" You felt the toxicity leach out of you through every pore, this illogical fury reaching a boiling point. "And you just... don't! You never do, huh? You just don't give a fuck about me, do you? You know how upset it makes me, but you go out and do it anyways. I mean, fuck how I feel, right? Clearly you don't give a shit."
Jungkook sighed, taking a step towards you and reaching out. "You know that's not true."
"It is, though. That's why you hid it from me, isn't it?"
"I forgot all about it!" Jungkook said, exasperated, throwing his hands up. "If I didn't give a shit about you anyways I'd leave it out where you can see. I didn't do it just to hurt—" He stopped himself, running his hands over his face. "Why do you have to take it like some personal attack every fucking time? Why do you have to be such a bitch for no good reason?"
That part made your chest sting, a mixture of both emptiness and pain filling up the hollow cavity where your heart should be. You stay quiet for a moment, letting his words hang in the air. You couldn't help it or choke it down, your eyes beginning to sting as tears appeared along your water line.
Why couldn't he fucking get it? Why didn't he understand he was yours? You made it so clear to him that you're his in every way. What did he still need other girls for?
Why weren't you enough for him?
Jungkook, blood now boiling, examined your sorrowful expression. As much as he wanted to stay angry at you for coming in screaming about his sex life you had no part in (as he often had to remind himself), he couldn't help but soften. He's seen you cry a thousand times over the years, yet it never gets easier; he couldn't help but melt at the sight of you. The scowl he once had morphed into one of worry, and he reached for you out of instinct. You tried to slap his hands away, but he ignored your protests and sniffles and wrapped you in a bear hug, letting you bury your face into his chest as you started to cry.
"I'm sorry. Please don't be upset with me," he immediately backtracked, trying to soothe you as he tangled his fingers in your hair, pressing his lips to your forehead. Regret quickly replaced any feelings of exhaustion or anger towards your antagonizing. He couldn't stand seeing you upset like this. The screaming and tantrums he could handle, but something about your expression just now made him want beg on his knees for your forgiveness. Why did he always have to upset you? Why was he always hurting you somehow, without even meaning to?
You hated it. You hated how weak he made you. You hated him sometimes for making you so miserable for no reason at all.
You let your tears fall onto his shirt as you sobbed, though he didn't seem to mind. He soothingly pet your head in the way he knew you loved, and held you a little tighter. You loved the moments you could spend in his arms, from sharing a bed during shared family vacations or making up after a fight. It was one of the few times you could let yourself believe in the security you so desperately craved from him.
"I'm just a fuck up, aren't I?" Jungkook softly said, voice calm as he stroked your hair. "I made you cry and everything. I'm really the worst."
You let out a small giggle at that, hiding your face in his shirt so he wouldn't see. "You're not the worst," you whispered, a small admittance.
"I'm not?"
You shook your head a little, blinking away the tears. "Everyone else's the worst."
Vibrations emitted from his chest as he laughed. "You're right. Everyone else is the worst..." He squeezed you a little tighter for a second. "That's why it's just you and me."
You grasped onto the fabric you were crying into, curling your fists at his assurance. "It is?"
He kissed your forehead, pressing his lips against you as he inhaled the lilac-scent of your shampoo. "Of course. Always."
You let your cheeks dry as you take in his words. This is always how it ended. Jungkook would give you some sweet words to dissuade your anger, and you'd forgive him like always until he did it again, and the cycle would repeat.
God, you were such a toxic piece of shit. You should let go of him. Let him fuck who he wants without having to worry about upsetting you, a girl who he wasn't even interested in remotely. He'd never see you the same way, and here you were punishing him for what? His disloyalty? Why should he owe you anything after everything you've put him through.
Maybe you were just addicted to punishing yourself, like someone in a situationship. But yours wasn't even that.
Your head swam with thoughts of self doubt and hatred. Quietly, you asked, "Do you ever hate me, Jungkook?"
He seemed to freeze in your embrace, the question unexpected. Usually it's something you accused him of in one of your fits, not ask during the come down. "Of course not. What makes you think that?"
You sniffled. "Sometimes I just think you'd be better off without me."
Jungkook hadn't given it much thought before, mainly because he'd rather do anything than imagine his life without you in it. As many flaws as he could list, he could name a plethora of things he liked about you. Your drive and wit that could charm any talk show host, if you actually cared to impress anyone but him. Even that aspect, your unwillingness to people-please anyone else and do what you wanted. You weren't a doormat the way he was, always choosing to fight rather than cower. You were always able to do much more damage than he could, whether it was against bullies or mean coworkers or abhorrent professors. If anything, he felt like often he held you back. Sure, from trouble, but who would you be if you didn't have someone you were always tied down to? Who would you be without him?
The thought made him feel sick, and he wrapped his arms around you a bit more securely to really feel you with him. You weren't going anywhere, you were right here in his arms.
Then why did he sometimes feel so distant from you? Like right now? He was always able to tell what you were thinking. Except the times you retreated into yourself, in your shell where even he couldn't reach you at times. It always made him anxious about whatever he'd say next.
"I don't like to think about it, honestly," Jungkook said honestly. Was it something you thought about? Did you ever think about leaving him? Were you thinking about it now? "I don't want to imagine us not being together."
"Even though I give you so much grief?" you questioned. "Even though you have other girls?"
Jungkook laughed. Your jealousy and possessiveness over him was still showing. Good. This he could work with. "You don't have to worry about that. They aren't important."
"What if one becomes important?"
It's an unexpected question that, again, Jungkook hadn't considered.
"None of them would be as important as you," he assured. "No one ever could."
Part of that made you feel better, but it wasn't quite what you wanted to hear. You didn't want anyone holding even a modicum of importance to Jungkook besides you. You didn't want him to be fucking any girls or giving anyone else the attention you deserved. Sure, you were the most, but you weren't guaranteed to forever be the only.
You finally look up at him, those sweet, charming, doe brown eyes meeting you with softness and patience. Far more than you actually deserved.
You were so immeshed and intertwined with Jungkook that you didn't know what parts of you were all him and what aspects of him were all you. Your souls had perhaps mixed beyond separation, instead making two indistinguishable entities forever bound to one another. To you there was no law more true than he was yours, and you were his. It was truer than physics.
But maybe he didn't deserve to be tied to a wretched little creature like you. You were jealous and possessive of him, and he made it clear though every rejection of your advances that he wasn't as much yours as you would hope.
What was the point of envying something you can never truly have?
"Do you ever want space from me?" You said it in such a hushed tone Jungkook barely caught it.
"No." He furrowed his brows as he took in your words. Did you want space from him? Was that it? Jungkook's mind whirred with your questions. Had he pushed it too far? "Do you... want me to give you space?"
Your fists curled again, nails digging into your palms. Jungkook gave you too much space for your personal liking. Space that he was using to fuck other women and spend time away from you. What more could need? What more did you have left to give?
The moral quandaries of the situation flooded your head, and you were unable to decide what to answer. You were a selfish bitch, through and through. He should be yours and no one else's, and you've believed that since the day you met him. He was yours, yours, and yours.
But clearly he wasn't, and clearly he didn't want to be. He didn't want to be yours the way you wanted to be his, and the reminder caused your heart to weigh just a little bit more every day.
How long could you keep him like this? On the brink of insanity as he tries to please your impossible whims of ownership over him? What would be the last straw on the camel's back to drive him away from you and to someone he could actually choose?
Would space be good for him?
"I don't know," you admitted quietly.
That sent Jungkook's mind spiraling. His two instincts were to 1.) push you away and ask frantically why you didn't automatically say no the way he did or 2.) hug you so tight you'd never be able to escape his clutches. He'd keep you in his apartment forever if he had to, chain you to his desk and never let you leave, like a legitimate psycho.
His breathing quickened and his heart rate spiked, and instead of either option he froze again, blood running cold. He didn't even know what to do or respond. Should he scream the way you do him until you changed your mind to what he wants? Should he do whatever it took to make you stay? Where were you getting these ideas from? Did someone plant them in that stupid little brain of yours? You hardly had any friends, and what few you did was mainly for appearances and boredom, though you often complained to Jungkook about what bores and nags they were in your eyes. Jungkook has always been the only person in this world you liked, let alone loved.
Did you meet a guy? No, that couldn't be it. All of your "friends" were girls, and you found most guys intolerable and annoying with the exception of him.
But what if you found another exception?
"Jungkook?" You nervously said, perturbed by his unusual quietness.
Jungkook decided to play it cool. Faking a laugh, he teased, "Jeez, what's gotten into you today? These aren't your normal questions. What happened to my girl?"
He ruffled your hair until you whined and squirmed in an attempt to leave his arms. He didn't let you.
"Jungkooook!" You whined, nails slightly scratching at his forearms in retaliation. You wrapped your hands around each, the thick muscle pulsing beneath your palms as he kept you glued against him.
"C'mon, ask me a real question the way you normally do. Prove you're my best friend or I'll believe you're an imposter." He nuzzled his nose in your neck, causing you to wiggle out of ticklishness this time. You giggled at his affection, lightly slapping at his arms in protest as he blew air against your neck. "Prove it."
You bit your lip to suppress a smile, unable to stay mad at him for too long. "Was she prettier than me?" you pouted, your tone more playful than angry now.
His nose touched yours softly as he stared at you, relieved to have a question he's finally knows how to answer. "Nah," he smiled, fingers twirling around a strand of your hair as he tried to keep you in his orbit. "No one is. You know that."
You grinned at his compliment, the line well rehearsed and well used, but comforting all the same.
Still, you thought about how many times you've had this argument, and how many more you'll have in the future. It'd always go like this, with you as the possessive and jealous best friend who couldn't stand the idea of anyone else in his life. How long would it be before he figures out you're just not worth the trouble?
—
Jungkook kicked it back in his friend's garage as the two shared a joint, letting the smoke fill their lungs and siphon out of the garage door and into the open air. Sitting in front of his friend's janky heater, he wondered to himself about his predicament. This was one of the few opportunities he could spend out of your sight, as you were in class. God, the way he had to bribe you with boba and sleepovers for over a month just to convince you to stop causing so much chaos away from him... It's a miracle you weren't kicked out of this school before you pissed off one of your professors by disagreeing with their lectures and insulting their intelligence. Hell, the only way Jungkook was able to salvage your place at previous schools was by emphasizing your immaculate scores. They were contradicted your reckless behavior, sure, but schools wanted to keep their testing scores up. You were never stupid by any capacity, you just used any bit of genius you possessed to manipulate and get away with whatever degeneracy you had planned. Usually some nefarious scheme of revenge against some girl who so much as looked at Jungkook the wrong way. He got very used to the women approaching him suddenly finding snakes in their backpacks or surrounded by rumors sullying their good name. Your craftiness, no doubt. Clearly you had too much freetime. At least with classes, though, Jungkook was able to take some breaks— though you'd disapprove of how he'd use some on girls that coincidentally happened to vaguely resemble you. At least vaguely enough for there to be plausible deniability.
Jungkook passed the weed to his friend, a chill dude with good weed but a boring personality. Maybe Kook did have a bit of that same darkness you possessed, finding everyone else to be a waste of time unless they can be of use to him. He could definitely use the joint right now... and perhaps a little advice.
"Mind if I pick your brain on something?" Jungkook asked. His friend gave him the side eye, unused to the man's sudden interest in his thoughts.
"Lady troubles, huh?" A puff of smoke escaped his friend's parted lips. "Is it that chick you just fucked a while ago? What's her name... Sarah?"
"Nah man, not her." Truth was Jungkook's pretty much forgotten her name already, as he usually does. He's pretty sure she's rang already once or twice, but he wasn't finding himself in any hurry to return her calls. He's mainly been worried about you these past couple of weeks. God, maybe he was the sleazy piece of shit you thought him to be. No wonder you were so disgusted with him. "It's just... someone."
Ever since the most recent fight you have been off. Less texts spamming him constantly with memes or annoyance for not replying immediately. When he took you out for boba you actually paid for yourself— which you never do. You also turned down his invitation to watch Godzilla movies at his place, even after he insisted he cleaned every inch of that goddamn couch three times. Something was up, and every passing moment made Jungkook unusually antsy. Now he was the one bombarding you with calls checking up on you, your unusual reserved attitude putting him in a frenzied state. Didn't he fix it? You were never upset for this long. Ok, maybe you were sometimes, but you'd never just... leave him alone. You'd be waiting at his apartment, sitting on the couch you now know he's violated, and starting up right where you left off with the argument last time. You should be cussing and shouting, not MIA from the screen you were usually glued to.
"Riiiiight..." the friend said with a drag, nodding as he passed the joint back. "So tell me about it."
"It's my... friend." It felt odd calling you just that, without the word best in front of it. It felt so much more insignificant compared to what you actually meant to him, the small word doing nothing to compare. But if he went out of the gate with best his friend would definitely know it was about you. Still, it’s not like you could be anything more, no matter how badly Jungkook wanted to cross that line. He couldn’t, though. He knew the minute you acted serious about it, didn’t brush it off as a joke— the moment he had you he wouldn’t be able to let go. He couldn’t pretend it didn’t happen, he couldn’t pretend everything was normal. You most certainly wouldn’t be ready for it. The situation at hand was proving it. "She's acting strange lately. Like... I dunno, distant. We got in a fight earlier but usually by now everything's normal again."
"Did you do something particularly heinous?" the friend inquired.
To her, definitely, Jungkook thinks, taking a hit. "Not anything new."
"Maybe she just wants space," the friend suggested.
"I don't want to give her space," Jungkook blurted out without meaning to.
That is responded to with a grin. His friend's eyebrows rose at Jungkook's reaction. "Oh? Why not?"
She's mine. She should be with me. She's mine. "I dunno... just doesn't seem like the right call I guess."
"Hm." His friend took back the joint and pulled in a long inhale, thinking. "So you wanna make her talk to you, huh?"
Did he? There was always the risk it'd just become another screaming match with you. You didn't seem to have any interest in opening up right now, so closed off to Jungkook for what seems like the first time.
What was it? Was it because he had been spending a bit less time with you now? What with his admittedly growing social life due to inevitable popularity, (Which you hated, though it was unavoidable with his good looks and charisma. You couldn't truly blame any of Jungkook's bimbos for being unable to resist.) and stress filled classes, he certainly wasn't spending as much time with you as he did when you two were kids. Were you just giving him a taste of his own medicine? Or had you finally decided to get a life of your own that didn't involve him? He hoped neither.
Did you not need him any more?
The mere thought made it feel as thought his insides were being flipped inside out.
"I tried talking to her, but she sort of just shut me out." Jungkook reached for the joint for a much needed hit. "I don't think I can handle this for much longer. I feel like I'm gonna go just... nuts soon. I'm this close to not holding back."
From what, even he wasn't sure.
"Then don't," his friend shrugged. "Make her talk to you, if it's that important. See if she likes you enough to listen to you. Someplace that catches her off her guard." He paused to think for a moment. "Or get her drunk. Girls love spilling their guts when they're drunk. My sister's always telling me TMI after a glass of wine."
That wasn't half a bad idea. It was typical for you to blabber on nonsense when you were drunk with Jungkook. Whether it was discussing the idea of eloping or wrestling with him for long enough that he had to take a cold shower after, you were much less inhibited when you were under the influence.
"That's an idea," Jungkook murmured to himself.
"You're usually great with women," his friend consoled. "You clearly just gotta man up with this one, dude. Remind her what she's missing." He took another pause. "It's probably a good thing she's mad. They're only mad if they care. It's when they stop caring you have to get worried."
Well, at least you're always mad at him. That was a comforting thought.
As for getting you to console to him and stay by his side, there was one idea that came to mind.
You absolutely hated parties. You didn't want to talk to anyone about their dumb problems or deal with the alcohol wafting off people's breaths. With girls occupying the bathrooms with their wailing and guys constantly bombarding you to try a line of coke off a paper plate, you found the events unappealing to say the least. You used to stay by Jungkook's side during freshman year and drink in the corner with him, talking shit about whoever was passed out in the living room or gyrating on who in public. Jungkook's gotten a lot more popular lately, though, much to your chagrin. He was practically the main event, being greeted by practically everyone whenever he went to one of these events. Every guy would shove a beer in his hand and dab him up like he was part of one of their dumbass frats. You practically had to beat off other girls with a stick and death glare when they approached him, their high pitched flirty voices and batting lashes making you want to gag. Seeing him be the king of a world you could and would never fit into left you stewing and steaming like the world's angriest pot of soup.
Jungkook didn't give you much of a choice this time, though.
After maybe two weeks of resisting the temptation of returning to Jungkook's side and giving in to your most selfish desires, he ended up cornering you. He barged into your apartment with plans he had set up without your prior input— a page he had taken from your book, no doubt. He insisted on the two for you going to some Yo Gabba Gabba bullshit frat party despite your protests. You hated parties. You hated feeling loneliness in a crowded room. You hated the idiots that surrounded you and the way they'd squabble and flock around Jungkook, desperate for his approval. Little did they know he thought the same as you— that they were mouth-breathers who were a waste of his time.
At least, that's normally what he seemed to think. Now that he was dragging you along for whatever godforsaken reason, despite your known hatred for public socialization, you were getting worried. Had he gotten sick of you avoiding him? The emotional distance you've been trying so hard to put between you two? Was this some sick punishment of his that he knew would be your personal hell? To watch him flirt with other girls before your very eyes and be too cool to be attainable? How cruel. How you. Perhaps he was learning. For once, and you couldn't believe it, it didn't seem like things were going your way.
When you complained it was too chilly a night for you guys to be going out, he simply tugged off his hoodie and wrapped it around you, problem solved. When you insisted you would agree to watching his Godzilla movies instead he suggested to do it tomorrow instead. When you complained you didn't have anything cute to wear Jungkook yanked out the going-out top you convinced him to buy for you just last month. Any excuse you could come up with he was able to retort with ease, as though he had already prepared the answers.
This was going to fucking suck.
You pouted as you thought of all the pretty faces that would come up to him tonight, completely ignoring you at his side and making it obvious they'd like to win a night with him. You comforted yourself with the thought that at least they don't know he snores, which could be a fun surprise. Then you upset yourself again with the thought of him tangled in the bed with another girl in the first place.
Jungkook was set on torturing you tonight for all your misdeeds, clearly.
You grumbled as you made your way to the car, already feeling a little warm from the lemon drops Jungkook prepared back at his place. Of course he'd pregame you with your favorite to make the night a little more bearable. You felt it necessary to pregame any social interaction. The liquor coat managed to keep your temperature somewhat tolerable for the cold night air, or at least long enough for when you guys got to the party.
It seemed however that 2.5 lemon drop martinis weren't enough to get rid of your foul attitude, considering the fact you were bitching the entire time about how much you didn't want to go. Jungkook recalled the saying about the horse and the water, but figured he'd make the most of it. At worst, he could always drown the horse, but what a waste of a bitchy horse.
"Oh my God, fucking Jin from 402 is going?" You scowled at your phone, seeing whatever worst-classmate-of-the-month posted on his instastory, glaring at the screen like the blue light itself was offending you. "He's such a bitch. He fucking cried at my reaction to his presentation, I don't want to deal with him. It's so awkward dealing with people after you make them cry."
Jungkook thought about all the times he's made you cry over the years. Out of frustration of him fucking other girls, the one time you got your fingers caught in a drawer he was slamming shut, that other time he may or may not have purposefully lied to the guy you were talking to that you were saving yourself for Jesus, causing said almost-crush to ghost you. (It didn't really matter anyways. Jungkook knew the guy wouldn't last five minutes in you. He was just doing you a favor and saving you from bad sex, if anything.) It wasn't awkward all of those times. Well, until recent developments.
"It'll be fine. I'll stick by you the entire night, he won't even have the guts to confront you the way you deserve," Jungkook oh-so-helpfully assured.
Your glare redirected to him, a scoff accompanying it in appropriate fashion. "Yeah fucking right. You're going to be out of my sight within five minutes of walking through the door. It'll be some loser with a Bass Pro hat giving you a joint or a beer or what-fucking-ever, and suddenly it's so long, bestie!"
Jungkook rolled his eyes at your rant, trying to mentally disengage now that he saw the house in the distance, the neon lights from the LED strips inside calling to him like a beacon. He was just five minutes from taking you inside a place you’d do anything to leave, even if it meant getting a conversation over with him. All he had to do was take you to some unoccupied whatever-the-fuck, and ask you what was wrong. Maybe manipulate you a little by saying he wouldn’t drive you home until you told him. You’d be too lazy to even think of looking into other options. "I'm not going to leave you."
"You say that, but we both know your word means nothing the second some broad with fat tits walks by threatening to motorboat you." You stirred at the thought, envisioning it all too clearly, your imagination finding the liquor in your system massively beneficial for the anger bubbling up inside you. "I mean, seriously, why'd you even bring me here? You could've gone by yourself."
"I wanted you to come with me."
"To what? Go sit on a couch next to some guy who can't take a hint, all while you fuck some chick in a bathroom that hasn't been cleaned in 5 months? No thanks."
"I told you, I'm not going to leave you."
"Yeah right. Suck my dick, Jeon. I could be home reading Onyx Storm right now."
"We both know you're not going to start reading that any time soon. It's been sitting on your nightstand for almost a year."
"Tonight could've been the night!" You protested. "But no, you just insisted on dragging me along to some stupid party to go watch you get hit on by some hot girl in an Urban Outfitters corset two sizes too small."
"That's not why I brought you here," Jungkook sighed, hoping that the increasing volume of the party music would soon drown out your incessant arguing. "I thought it'd be a good place for us to catch up, have fun. Maybe talk. A change of scenery could do us some good."
"If you actually wanted to hang out with me, sure! We could've! I said I was fine with watching Godzilla tonight. But nooooo, you couldn't be bored looking at ugly little me, you just had to go find something that would give those precious pupils of yours a break." You snarled, shuffling further into the passenger seat, hoping your skin would glue itself to the leather so you didn't have to leave this car. "So, so sorry for not giving your retinas a day off. I know you must have cataracts by now just from looking at me."
Jungkook put the car in park, finally turning towards you with a hard stare that would've made anyone's knees buckle. His face was suddenly centimeters away from yours, his rage radiating off of him stronger than UV rays in July.
"Oh my fucking God. What, do I have to fuck you in the car for you to feel pretty?"
Your eyes widened, and your mouth hung open, closing and opening over and over again as if you were a singing fish. You didn't know what to say. Usually you were the one making those sorts of comments — and at least it'd be somewhat disguised as a joke.
"I-I—" You stammered, feeling yourself get flustered. "Shut up!"
Jungkook laughed at your shocked expression. Typically he wouldn't even humor your jokes of flirtation towards him, instead brushing them off and ignoring them, chalking the comments up to poor attempts to get under his skin. He was living for your reaction, however, how clearly you wore your expressions on your sleeve. He could practically see every wheel turning in that evil head of yours, trying to make sense of him, of his mask slipping just a little bit. For once, he had the upper hand, and he was enjoying it so, so much.
"How long do you think it'll last, huh? A few weeks? A year?" He leaned in closer, letting his breath fan against your skin. "How long do you think it'll be until you need it again?"
You jumped out of the car as though he electrocuted you, heart hammering so fast you swore you were having palpitations. "L-Like you'd— like that'd—" you glared at Jungkook as he laughed at your mess of a self. You huffed, realizing he was just fucking with you. "Shut up!"
He let out another cackle at your expense. "Getting to you, huh? But you always say this sort of thing."
"You don't," you pointed out. "You just ignore me and call the comments stupid. You don't even react."
"I've always been good at hiding my reaction," Jungkook reminded you. Painfully. "You never have."
You scowled at him, rolling your eyes. "You're so fucking full of yourself, Jeon."
"Yeah? You wanna be, too, I bet."
That sent an electric current straight to your core. You tried to compose yourself and hide the effect he's having on you, taking in a deep breath like you were trying to convince both parties of your confidence. "You're not getting to me, Jeon."
"Yeah, but you only call me Jeon when you're pissed at me," he smiled. "So I must be getting under your skin."
"As if—"
You were cut off by a loud buzzing from Jungkook's pocket, barely heard over the party music in the distance, the house several yards away. Of course Mr. Popular had someone trying to contact him every moment of the week. No wonder he was no longer having time for you—you were having to share his precious time with all of these other losers. He pulled it out of his pocket, and your eyes spied a suspiciously all too feminine name for your liking.
Jungkook's gaze met yours, twinkling with mischief as he practically dared you to seethe and pout over it as you normally do. You wanted to prove him wrong so bad, though. Whatever games he's suddenly playing, he will not win.
"You know what, Jungkook, do what you want," you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. "I don't even care anymore."
His smile disappeared at that last part, a frown gracing his features now. Something about that set him off inside, though he tried to regain his composure to hide his reaction to your words. Still, he was pissed off.
You don't care? Really? Since when? You always cared! You cared so fucking much all the time, especially when it came to Jungkook! You cared too much about everything!
We'll see how much you don't care.
He picked up the buzzing device, ignoring your scowl of disapproval. He could practically feel your eyes jump out of your skull from his peripheral vision as you spotted the name Sasha on his phone. He's not entirely sure why he does it, just some instinct to put you in your place. To see if you do care, and if so, how much?
"You're actually answering that now?" you hissed, seething. Of course he's got some side hoe calling him when he's alone with you, but the gall of him to actually pick up? And in front of you, after all that... whatever that was? What game was he playing at?
Truth be told, Jungkook wasn't so sure either. He was, however, willing to make a gamble on that jealous streak of yours.
He patted your head patronizingly, cooing at your anger. "It would be rude of me not to answer."
"Ignore the bitch," you snarled, grumbling under your breath, resisting the urge to grab his phone and chuck it far, far away. Last time you did that it cost you an entire week's worth of tips at your waitressing job. One you inevitably got fired from after you poured coffee on the old man who grabbed your ass as you walked by. For some reason they didn't believe it was an accident.
Instead of listening to you the way he normally did, he answered the call. "Hey, Sasha." There's a purr in his tone you never heard him use with your name. It made your stomach twist into a Gordian knot.
"I'm leaving." You turned away to stomp towards the lame ass party.
Jungkook didn't let you run off, however, grabbing your wrist and tugging you closer to him, muting the call for a second. "Stay."
His word left no word for argument, and with the certainty in his tone, you could do nothing more but return to your place next to him and within earshot of the receiver. He chuckled as you stayed in place, pissed off but obedient. He could get used to this.
"I know you want to listen in anyways. Nosy." The amount of times he had caught you going through his phone (you knew all of his passwords, even the ones he forgot) and the amount of times it's started a fight was immeasurable.
Jungkook smirked down at you, staring as he listened to Sasha excitedly ask how he's been and what he’s been up to. He twirled a strand of your hair, pleased with the scowl you bore. "Yeah, sorry it's been a while," he said, focusing on your lock being woven between his fingers, admiring how shiny it was even in the dark. "I've missed you."
You refrained from saying anything, knowing Jungkook was all too eager to see you have a meltdown over one stupid phone call, just to prove a point. It'd be very much like you, though. You've done so over far less. Still, you stayed in place, for some reason wanting to be good for Jungkook. You tried to ignore the dumb cunt's voice, her shrill giggles piercing your ears. You did your best to look unaffected, pulling the best poker face you could muster.
"Have you missed me?" Jungkook asked, eyes still locked with yours. His smirk deepened. "Or just the feeling?"
You couldn't help but let out a grimace of anger and disgust contort your features, your ears burning as you listened to your best friend's sleazy talk to this random whore. Her bout of giggling and scolding Jungkook for being so teasing did nothing to endear her to you.
Jungkook relished in your expression, loving getting to see how jealous you were getting in real time, unable to do anything about it. He never broke eye contact with you, continuing to play with your hair as he nodded slowly to Sasha's response. "I've been thinking about it a lot lately..." Jungkook said, smug as he watched you seethe right in front of him. He could feel how hot your ears were when he brushed your hair behind them, the normally affectionate gesture now being laced with something you had never known.
"Thinking of you under me, how good you'd feel..." His eyes flickered down from your eyes to your lips for just a split second before returning up. "How you're the prettiest girl I've ever known."
You turned around to march off again but Jungkook stopped you, pulling you in so your back was pressed against his chest, his bicep wrapping around your front to keep you in place. You were now closer to the phone, able to better hear her annoying squeals of excitement. You reached up into his arm, fingers digging into the firm muscle as you tried to get him to let go, but he didn't. He instead leaned his head down closer, and you felt his breath tickle your ear, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine.
"Bet you've been thinking about it too, huh?"
You squirmed more in his grasp, pawing at the thick arm that kept you in place as you listened to her fervently agree. For some reason you were still feeling hot all over, even when Jungkook was talking to another girl. An odd twist of lust and jealousy churned in your gut, the direct eye contact with you making you feel a strange, unexplored level of intimacy with him. You didn't know what to make of it, of Jungkook's sudden games. It was as though your time apart from him had truly affected him deeply, and now he was making up for the lost time in the most diabolical way possible. He was punishing you for depriving him of your presence, so it seemed.
Jungkook was always so touchy with you. Hugs, pecks on the cheek, kisses on the forehead, playing with your hair, sitting/laying in each other's laps— it was all common. You should've known he'd be a whore from the get go with his love language clearly being physical touch. He was usually so gentle with you though, but now it was more domineering, more calculated. For once, you were under his control.
You didn't think he had it in him. It was usually you who bossed him around.
You also didn't know why you were going along with it. You had half the mind to scream into his phone and call whatever harlot on the other side to fuck off. Still, he wanted you to be good for him. Being good was new for you, but perhaps Jungkook was the one to bring it out of you.
That, or you happened to bring out the darkness in him that was capable.
He let go of his hold on you with his arm, though his fingers slightly trailed up the column of your neck, forcing you to tilt your head back as he tipped your chin up. You looked straight up at him towering over you, his hooded eyes and wicked grin doing nothing to set your mind at ease.
In a whisper so quiet it's barely there, one you're unsure Sasha would even be able to hear, Jungkook breathed, "I want you so bad..."
You hated to hear him purr it into the phone, into her undeserving ears. Fuck, what you'd give for him to say that, just you and him alone. You swiped for the phone, but Jungkook read you too fast, swatting your hand away. You opened your mouth to yell, but it's quickly covered by the palm of his hand. He turned you around to press against the car, any noises muffled by his large hand that easily covered half of your face. You glared at him, earning a cheesy ass grin of satisfaction; Jungkook was realizing he actually liked making you mad.
Meeting your stare, he continued. "You really have no idea... All the things I've wanted to do to you..." He licked his lips slowly. "Make you cum over and over again on my—"
Before Jungkook could finish spewing filth, you bit, hard, glaring at Jungkook all while his smug expression shifted to a painful scowl and he yanked his hand back with a hiss. "I gotta go," he hastily snarled into the phone, hanging up on Sasha and shoving the phone in his pocket.
You didn't even have time to properly gloat before he was in your face, placing his bitten hand out on the car behind you. "You fucking bit me!"
You probably haven't bitten him since the 3rd grade. Or 11th.
You stuck out your tongue at him, not regretting your actions, running high on adrenaline and the slight buzz of the martinis. "Serves you right, asshole. That was so fucked up and... and..."
"And what?"
And why was I actually getting turned on during it?
"And you better delete her number before the end of the night! I will check," you huffed, shoving him back and crossing your arms. You could only hope he attributed the blood rushing to your cheeks to the rage and alcohol, rather than anything something more insidious.
He examined you, taking you in, your fast breaths and flushed face. Maybe it was because of the cold? Maybe you were just angry at him for being abrasive and gross in front of you—for making you listen to him like that.
But he couldn't shake off the feeling that you liked it a lot more than you led on.
"Just when I thought you could stop acting like a brat for two minutes," he tsked, stepping back and turning away to run a hand down his face. Somehow he seemed actually disappointed, but most importantly caught off guard. "Whatever, lets just head inside."
Grabbing your wrist and dragging you along before you can dig a further grave, Jungkook took you to the den of debauchery.
—
You would think that the fact Jungkook was dragging you through the front door, wrist in hand, scowl on his face, was enough to signal that he was a bit occupied at the moment. Alas, your generation has skipped the course in social cues, and the two of you found yourselves surrounded by the last people you ever wanted to see.
Correction, Jungkook was surrounded. So surrounded, in fact, by the very people you predicted, that his hold on you slipped away, too many people between the two of you. Every guy is calling him "the man!" and "duuuude!" wanting to catch up and grab a beer, light a joint, fuck a bitch, whatever. The girls on the other hand were all touchy, grabbing onto his biceps, tugging on his clothes with surface-level compliments, caressing his hair, all like it would convince him they were the special one compared to the four other girls doing the same thing.
Goddamn, some of the girls' voices were so high pitched you were surprised the neighborhood dogs weren't howling. You were currently suppressing the urge to phone in a noise complaint for the very party you were at, but last time you did that Jungkook forced you to sit through a 6-hour documentary on how caviar was made, and you'd rather not be haunted by the image of fish eggs again.
You had to hand it to him though, he proved you wrong. While you predicted he would be swarmed and whisked away in five minutes, he managed to accomplish the feat in five seconds. That was a new record.
You pondered for a moment on a pragmatic way of ditching, but find yourself lacking in suggestions. You were too buzzed to steal his keys and drive away yourself, and you definitely didn't trust any of the bozos here to get you home without a blowjob for the road. You also didn't have time to steal Jungkook's wallet to pay for an Uber using his credit card.
Faintly, you heard him say, "Wait! I need to talk to my—"
Didn't matter. Jungkook's magnetic field was too strong for even him to dissuade, something that you learned long ago. You knew there was no point in awkwardly standing around the growing crowd of sycophants, waiting for them to thin out and set him free. Too many times you'd see them disperse, with Jungkook nowhere to be found, only for you to later walk in on him with a group of guys clapping him on the back, cigars in hand, or worse, stepping outside a closet, fixing the buckle on his belt.
Instead you sashay towards the kitchen, knowing the remedy to increase your buzz and keep the bad vibes going. One shot of Grey Goose later and you're good to go, primed and ready for wherever the shitty party full of trust fund college kids may lead. Had you known you were going to be taken hostage here in the first place, you would've at least texted a gal pal of yours to come with. Not that you liked any of them that much, but at least you wouldn't be painfully alone, ready for the vultures.
Unfortunately, the gods of the universe seem to have it out for you, as you make eye contact with none other than Kim Seokjin in the living room. He's got a classic red solo cup in his hand and a jarring look of recognition, and boy, is that look pissed. Instead of the mysterious liquid giving him the courage to go out and actually get laid, the loser seems encouraged to instead confront you for that comment you made about how his forensics diagram was worse than a 3rd grader's drawing depicting their trauma.
Immediately he sprung from the couch, marching his way over to you, and while you could admit karma should slap you in the face, you thought Jin's too beneath you to be deserving of that privilege.
You moved deeper into the crowd, hoping you were able to slip between the bodies faster than he can keep up. Through the maze of gyrating miscreants, your drunk ass managed to bump into someone actually useful.
"Woah! Hey, slow down," the guy laughed, steadying you back on your feet after you bulldozed into him. "Are you alright?"
"'M fine," you mumbled, spinning your head around to see if Jin was still tailing you. You grabbed onto the guy's shirt, spinning him around so you were now switching sides, his body blocking the view from where Jin would probably come from. "Just avoiding someone."
"Some creep who won't leave you alone?" The man chuckled, pulling you closer to his frame to hide you better.
"Something like that." Opportunities like this didn't usually fall into your lap, and you were grateful for the barrier at the moment.
"I get it. I can help a pretty girl like you blend in, then."
You looked up at his face and begin to scrutinize the details. He's objectively handsome. Not Jungkook handsome, but sure, he'd do. If Jin spotted you with him he might feel too awkward to separate you two and ruin the vibe. Hell, if you're lucky and he does, the stranger might be willing to tell him off without any questions. Maybe even punch him in the face, which would make an interesting TikTok. He called you pretty, too, which was a great indicator. Guys seemed to constantly fantasize about committing violence for a pretty girl. Or to, but you'd take your chances for at least a few minutes until you had to shake him off too.
You slipped on one of your sly smiles, the coy one that made guys think you were actually flattered by their attention. The one that screamed you're making me feel special and made them think they had a chance. "My hero," you grinned, pulling him closer, his chest right against yours.
"What's your name?" He asked, hands settling on your waist, his lips on your ear so he could speak at a much more sultry tone than the heavy bass would typically allow you to register.
You told him, batting your lashes, your voice a sweet caress in comparison to the noise and your true nature. "What's yours?"
"Jimin." You'll probably forget it later. "Want to dance with me?"
You nodded, and he spun you around, hands now on your hips as he moved you in tune with the music. He was at least on beat, which was a plus. You just hoped he wouldn't be the type who came in his pants from a bit of grinding. That was always annoying.
Your eyes scanned about the room for Jin, your body moving in natural rhythm with Jimin's as you gyrated along with the others, blending in just as planned.
Jimin whispered something in your ear that you barely heard, but you giggled anyways. Guys liked when you laugh at whatever stupid shit they think you want to listen to; it boosted their egos and makes their cock hard, like they'll get the chance to use your bra strap as a guitar string or something. Whatever, though. You could still let yourself get lost in the music, the booze in your system making you feel much looser and easy going than you'd usually be with strangers like this. You suspected the man behind you would suggest after twenty-or-so minutes of dry humping on the dance floor to go upstairs and see what other moves you have.
What you did not expect, however, was to spot Jungkook's face.
His head was whipping about as he spun, eyes searching the room and stopping when he spotted you.
The look on his face was one he usually pulled when you've fucked up majorly. His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched, and suddenly you were very aware that the party you just arrived at was over for you.
He must've managed to shake off his posse, because now he's making a beeline towards you, parting the crowd like the Red Sea and snatching your wrist to wrench you away from Jimin's embrace.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Jungkook scowled, his grip on your wrist tight as he pulled you in.
"Yo, man, fuck off!" Jimin grabbed your arm, yanking on you, and suddenly you felt like tug-of-rope on field day. "You're the creep that's been following her around?"
"Let go of her. We're leaving." Jungkook tried to tug you back, but Jimin didn't let go.
"What are you, some stalker? Her ex?"
"What?" Jungkook guffawed at the man's accusations, his face one of shock and disgust. "No, you idiot. She's mine. Why don't you go hump someone else, yeah?"
Jimin looked at you, your bored, blank expression showing no sign of fright or worry. He slowly let go of your arm, taking note of how you don't move away from Jungkook or make any effort to reach back for him. He already fulfilled his hero role tonight, you had no further use for him. That, and you really, really weren't in the mood to suck his dick to the terrible playlist currently mauling your eardrums.
He seemed as though he were both more understanding and more confused the longer he assessed the situation.
"Sorry, man. Didn't know she had a boyfriend."
Jungkook scoffed, pulling you closer to him and glaring back at Jimin, obviously still peeved. He didn't say another word to him, instead dragging you along and straight through the front door of the party he demanded you attend.
"We haven't even been here for, like, half an hour!"
"Oh, like you care," he spat, rolling his eyes. "What the fuck was that? Since when do you just let guys hump you like a dog in heat?"
"I was trying to avoid Jin. I told you he was here but you didn't give a fuck. I had to improvise." You shrugged, struggling to keep up with his long legs as he yanked you across the front yard. "Hey, slow down!"
He stopped, spinning around to glower at you directly, his sudden halt causing you to face plant into his chest. You grimaced, pushing yourself off, stumbling back. "You could've come to me. Not some stranger giving you fuck-me-eyes."
You deadpanned, finding his audacity to be impertinent at best. "Last I checked, you were the one who left me, remember?"
"I wasn't trying to! I literally had to tell everyone to fuck off because I didn't even get the chance to talk to you."
"Why the fuck would you need to bring me to a party to talk to me when you have me on speed dial?"
Jungkook flicked your forehead, causing you to yelp in pain and rub the sore spot.
"What the hell was that for?" you whined, still too buzzed to knock him upside the head in retaliation the way you would've. You're never given an answer, however, as Jungkook proceeded to drag you back to the car, away from the chaos that frat Alpha-Beta-Omega had to offer.
You stumbled over your steps, the alcohol making you as coordinated as a freshly born fawn, and Jungkook had to half carry you back to his vehicle. He thought about what a terrible, unsuccessful night it's already been, and how much stupider your decisions were when you were under the influence of alcohol. Clearly drinking loosened you up too much, and he had half a mind to go back inside and punch Jimin in the face for how he was feeling you up. How you let him.
"What a stupid fucking idea," he muttered to himself, deciding to never, ever take anyone's advice ever again.
—
The two of you arrive back at your place, but in no better a mood. You certainly weren't, now significantly more sobered up after the events that took place. You didn't even have a decent buzz to lull you to sleep, instead left with the dull nothingness that was not being under the influence.
Jungkook snapped on the lights, his movements quick and aggressive, showing his clear agitation. You didn't give a shit. Throwing a tantrum over nothing was supposed to be your thing, and he didn't come off nearly as endearing as you when you did it.
You weren't going to let Jungkook think for even a moment that his attitude would sway you. You were just as mad at him as he was at you, and had a much better reason to be on top of that.
"I'm surprised the campus slut really even gives a shit about what I do," you drawled. "So I grind on one guy at a party. You meanwhile have probably fingered a dozen girls in each—"
Jungkook chortled, nostrils flaring with anger already. "Please, you exaggerate so much—"
"I saw how all of them were all over you. Oh, Jungkook, pleaseeeee fuck me. I need you so bad!" You didn't notice Jungkook's red ears as you say that, ranting on, practically in your own world. "You just loooooved it didn't you? Liked their attention, right? I mean, what do you even need me for at this point?"
"Oh please, all I did was say hi to them. Meanwhile I have to watch you practically fuck a guy in some dingy ass frat—"
"That you brought us to!"
"Yeah, to talk to you! Because you've been fucking weird and avoiding me after I fucked some girl, when you could've just said you wanted it to be you," he fumed. Heat crawled up your neck at his words, the bluntness of his accusation throwing you for a loop. Was he buzzed from the party? Had he been drinking for the few minutes you were apart? Just openly speaking about this like it's nothing, when to you this was everything? "That's why you act like such a bitch, right? And hate all of them? Because you’re jealous?"
You did your best not to crack under the assertion, puffing up your chest with faux bravado that you prayed he couldn't see past."Look at you fucking projecting, Jeon. I saw how you looked at Jimin; you looked like you wanted to kill him. Yet I'm the jealous one? At least I don't pretend to be fucking nice, like some pathetic people pleaser!"
"You're the one who I always have to please the most. I'm always doing what you say, all the time. Practically everything I do, I do for you! And you can't even acknowledge how much I cater to you. What could he possibly offer you when I give you everything?!" Jungkook carded his hands through his hair, wanting to rip it out at the roots. Fuck. He sounded like you right now.
"Everything?" You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "Please. You're out fucking random girls— what does that give me? Huh? Panties shoved between your couch cushions as a reminder of a part of you that clearly isn't for me."
Why did you even care that part wasn't for you? Why were you so bothered by it?
"It was an accident!" He fumed, running his hands through his hair in exasperation. "And I've never practically dry humped someone in front of you."
"Get over yourself! What was that earlier, huh? The phone call? Forcing me to listen in on you talking about how much you want that bitch and what you want to do to her? Just another one of your sick, twisted mind games, isn't it? You fucking freak."
Jungkook gave you a dark stare, suddenly breathing harder than you remembered. He moved forward very slowly, each movement calculated, like a predator slowly sneaking up on it's prey.
"You know what I think?" He leaned in closer, but you stood your ground, not even flinching as he invaded your space. "I think you're more upset over the fact that you liked it."
You winced at the accusation this time, the blow Jungkook delivered hitting much too hard. Usually by now you've won, and he's apologizing and offering food to make it better. No, this time he's matching your pace, and you're the one who has to keep up with him. You tried to think fast to defend yourself, but all you could muster was turning away from him to hide the way your face burned. "Fuck you, Jeon."
Now his wicked grin returned, noting the fact you hadn't denied it. You're much more vulnerable than you anticipated, and not at all ready for Jungkook's ambush. He sat down on your sofa, becoming much more comfortable as he was crawled further underneath your skin.
"Yeah, you want to, huh? You'd think so after all the times you've practically begged for it."
You whipped around so fast, your eyes practically bulging out of your sockets. "Begged for it? I would never beg you for shit."
"Yeah? Even when you prance around in front of me in those fuck me shorts and send a death threat to any woman I sleep with?" His grin grew cocky as he spread his legs, his lap inviting. You averted your gaze, knowing he was practically daring you to look. "You've been fucking desperate for it, huh, baby?"
If your head could explode right now, it probably would. The mere sight of cocky Jeon Jungkook spreading his legs before you had you wanting to fall to your knees. How had everything suddenly reached such a boiling point between you two? How had arguing become... whatever this is?
"And what about you, huh?" You stomped back towards him, not backing down. "You just, what, see me with one guy and suddenly you're practically carrying me out of there? For what reason when you were already surrounded by half a dozen girls who would've sucked you off then and there. I could've just stayed with Jimin. I'm sure we would've found a way to occupy our time with you being busy."
Jungkook scowled. He hated hearing Jimin's name come from your mouth. "I get mad, what, one time, compared to the dozens of meltdowns you have?"
Unable to give a good retort to that at the moment, you found yourself marching away from Jungkook again and towards your room. He was right. You've been a bitch to him over far too little and he let you get away with it time and time again. You were at a standstill. However, there way no way in hell you'd admit to any wrongdoing.
"Bullshit, Jeon," you muttered as you heard him get up from the sofa to follow you.
"What, so you get to basically grind against a guy in front of my face, but I can't even have girls over at my place? You're such a fucking hypocrite!" He spat, leaping from the couch and barging after you. His hand caught onto your shoulder to spin you around to face him properly, forcing you to meet his gaze.
"Hypocrite? It was just fucking dancing! They’re two entirely different things. I'm practically a saint compared to you." You slapped away his hand, not wanting to feel the way it scorched into your skin. "Go find some whore to cream on your shit and leave me alone, like you always do."
"Oh, so now you want me to hook up with other girls?" Jungkook snorted, noting the fire in your eyes when he said it. "Damned if I do, damned if I don't, huh? I didn't even want any of them, I was trying to get to you. But you left! I was searching everywhere for you, only to see you—"
"Oh my god, since when have you cared? Why are you acting like... like... What is up with you today, huh?" Your mind felt like it was scrambled, trying to find some plausible explanation for Jungkook's behavior as of late. "What... what is this? Some weird, twisted way of getting back at me or something? Showing me how it feels for you?"
The look in his eyes was indiscernible, as though he himself was trying to process it. "I'm not— I'm never trying to hurt you—“
"Then why do you even give other girls the time of day when you know it makes me upset, huh? Why do you still do it? And the moment I give a guy a second of my attention you're hauling me out. You say I'm the hypocrite, but look at you! Every fucking time we go out I have to see some bitch ogling you, begging to fuck you, and I have to sit with the fact that there's always a real possibility that you'll let her, you sleazy, fucking manwhore!"
The heat in your face should've been your first warning that your control was slipping. Your eyes welled with tears, and you tried to choke it down, hating the lump forming in your throat, making your words crack. You're so stupid! He just didn't get it. He'd never get it. How could you even begin to explain your delusions, your paranoia, your possessiveness, your jealousy? He'd be glad to be rid of you if you did. You'd drive him away further than you already have. You've been loyal to him for years, and meanwhile he was out fucking anything that could walk. Never even considering you, even though he was promised to you.
But clearly he didn't think of himself as yours, so why were you making such an effort to still be his?
"Fuck you, Jungkook!" You shoved him back, chest heaving as you attempted to choke the tears down. The sooner he let you retreat to the safety of your bedroom, the better. "I don't need you."
You knew those words were the biggest lie to ever leave your mouth as soon as you said it. Both of you locked up, holding your breath as the sentence hung between you two. You wanted to take it back immediately, your stomach twisting as you blurted out the words. You didn't mean them. They weren't true. You just desperately wanted to not need him.
Jungkook's expression was unreadable, the heat from the anger radiating off of him now cooling to something much darker, more sinister.
It set you on edge, not knowing how Jungkook was going to react. You always knew how he was going to react. You knew him like the back of your hand. There were no secrets between you two.
And yet...
Something about him right now made the hair on the back of your neck stand up.
You took a step back wanting to put distance between you two, but that seemed to be the wrong move. You jumped when your back unexpectedly hit the wall of your bedroom, cornered. You lifted off of it, straightening your back, not wanting to show any intimidation. His eyes snapped up to meet yours, unbridled rage and coldness now filling usually soft, warm irises. He stepped forward, crowding your space as you shivered before him, refusing to so much as breathe. His hands went to the wall behind you, arms on either side to cage you in and prevent escape.
His head hung down, letting his fringe hide his eyes for a moment as he stared down at your trembling body. A small smile quirked at his lips, and he let out an ominous, low chuckle at last. It wasn't one of humor, it was one that let you know he was absolutely livid.
Fuck. You fucked up.
You had never seen Jungkook this angry before.
"God, you're such a fucking bitch," he finally said, hissing the words under his breath.
You didn't respond, feeling too meek in front of him suddenly. He wasn't telling you anything you hadn't heard before.
"That's all you ever do, after all I do for you. Just bitch at me like you're trying to get a rise out of me," Jungkook huffed, lifting his head and glaring back at you. The look in his eyes made you feel as though you had been dunked in ice water. "Well guess what sweetheart? It fucking worked."
You gasped as his hand met your neck, pushing you backward until your back hit the wall again. His fingers slid up and gripped your jaw, tilting your face up towards his. You're given no choice but to hold eye contact with his furious expression, his rage palpable. You gulped, a movement he no doubt felt under his palm. He could sense how nervous you were, your heartbeat quickening beneath the pads of his fingertips. You looked so helpless, almost scared. It was so cute.
But not cute enough to dissuade his anger.
Jungkook bared his teeth, a look of disgust taking over his features as he looked down at your pathetic, pliant form. "You finally managed to piss me off."
You trembled in his hold as you questioned what he meant. Was this it? Was this the moment he was going to leave you forever? Or was he going to crush your windpipe right here, as revenge for all of your insufferable behavior? Frankly you'd prefer the second. You didn't know if you could live in a world without him. You said you didn't need him? Fine. He could take your word up on that. You blinked up at him, waiting for him to say whatever damning words he was preparing in his head. To tell you off and discard you like he used to refuse to do.
It never came though, his head instead dipping down to kiss you.
Your eyes widened, unable to react or process what was happening, the mere fact his lips were on yours. Jungkook seemed lost in it, however, closing his eyes and groaning into your mouth as he kissed you harder, the back of your head pressing against the wall as he furiously took you. His hand tightened on your jaw, fingers pressing into your cheeks and forcing you to let out a gasp that parted your lips. He took advantage of the opportunity, skillfully slipping his tongue in and licking into your mouth. The ease at which he was able to dominate your tongue against his made your knees weak, your eyes closing as you tried to memorize the feeling of his mouth. His grip on your chin stayed tight, angling you just right for him to devour you completely, nowhere to escape from him. His body pressed against yours, leaving you no space between him and the wall. You were trapped to take his every desire.
When his mouth finally parted from yours, you're left gasping for breath, soft pants of air let out as your mind whirred with questions. He stared at you, his eyes still narrowed and glowering, but now with a hint of something you weren't at all used to seeing from him. At least, not towards you.
His eyes wandered over your expression for a moment, searching your face for some form of displeasure. You're already left flushed and panting from just a kiss, though, and all he could think about was everything he wanted to do you, and what expression you might make if you let him. He kissed you again, and this time you're ready for it, leaning in too and eagerly meeting his lips and trying to match his pace. His hand slid down from your jaw to once more be placed on your throat, giving it a small squeeze, and the whimper that escaped your mouth was fucking delicious.
Jungkook smirked as you whined against him, pulling back to whisper against your lips. "Pretty girl likes that, huh? Like my hand against your throat?" His fingers flexed slightly. "Or do you just like kissing me that much?"
Your face burned at his question, never hearing him talk to you in such a manner. Pretty girl. Those two words rung in your ears on repeat. The fact he knew you liked it made your cheeks burn even hotter.
He chuckled as you blinked up at him blankly. "C'mon, you were so chatty just a second ago. Say something." He grinned at your flustered expression, hand sliding back up to cup your cheeks and part your lips in an unflattering pout. His expression turned stony as he stared down at you. "I said speak."
You weren't used to this Jungkook— the one who gave commands instead of taking them. Furthermore, you were finding yourself liking it a lot more than you'd care to admit. "Yes," you let out in a barely-there whisper.
"Yes what?" He raised a brow, clearly having no intent on letting you go that easily. He eased his hold on your face, letting his fingers softly brush back down to the base of your throat, leaving them as a reminder.
"Yes, I—" you shakily gulped, knowing he could feel every bit of it. "I like it. I—" You leaned forward, pressing your neck back into his palm, the warmth of his skin against yours feeling akin to a choker. "I like it all."
"All, huh?" He snickered under his breath, pulling back his hand much to your disappointment. He brushed the hair out of your face, combing through the strands in a way you'd usually find comforting. Now you felt more vulnerable. Seen. "Think you could handle it all?"
Your heart leapt out of your chest, and you blinked repeatedly trying to gauge his words. "Handle what?"
His fingers curled into the hair at the back of your head and brought you closer to him, lips barely brushing against yours as he stared into your eyes. "Me fucking you."
Your mouth gaped open once again, though no words came out. You couldn't believe this was real. If it was a dream may you never wake up.
"C'mon, be a big girl and use your words," he scolded. "Do you want it?"
"I—" You licked your lips, your mouth suddenly going dry. "I want it."
"Yeah?" He breathed out, voice going quieter with yours. "Want me?"
You're momentarily distracted by him licking his lips too, and your mind jumps back to what a good kisser he is. You'd probably do anything at this point just to get him to kiss you like that again.
"Yes," you finally admitted, your word quiet and small, like a precious secret.
You wanted Jungkook. You wanted him to be yours alone in every sense of the word. You wanted to be the one in his bed and experience the prowess he earned. You tried not to think of the practice he had, and your lack of experience in comparison.
Does he truly want you like that? After all these years?
Or were you just another girl that was nearby and convenient, like the so called whores you always admonished?
He let go of you for a moment to yank you towards the bed, and you let out a sharp shriek of surprise as you bounced against the springs in your mattress. Jungkook's dark eyes never left you, crawling on top and brushing the tip of his nose against yours.
"Not Jimin?" he questioned. Jimin. You hadn't even been able to really think about him since Jungkook dragged you away. Not that you cared that much about him.
But Jungkook seemed to.
You couldn't help it, the words crawling out of your mouth automatically. Some part of you still wanted to win over him in some facet. Maybe that's why you'd always rehash arguments. They were rematches for you two. "Why, are you actually jealous, Kookie?"
Jungkook's face soured at the use of the old pet name. One you'd used to use with affection, now mainly used with spite. That, and the fact you didn't immediately say no about Jimin. Were you still thinking of him? Were you wishing he was the one in Jungkook's place right now?
"First," Jungkook grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head. You loved the caged in feeling Jungkook's been providing today— both protective and intimidating. Before you could only imagine this view. "You know better than to provoke me like that, don't you, brat?"
You did, but something about seeing him get so riled up over it made you want to both run and get caught.
"Second," his hand came up the side of your face, his thumb sliding up to your lips, wordlessly demanding you suck. "Jimin will never fuck you the way I'm about to. I promise you that."
He'll never even get the chance, is what he wanted to add.
"Yeah?" Your words were muffled around his thumb. He slid it out, again giving you that oh so comforting weight on your neck. You bit your lip, almost amused by how hot and bothered he seems to be. "And what makes you so sure?"
"Fucking tease." Jungkook was practically seeing red with your quips, his grip on your neck slightly tightening in warning. "Tread lightly, baby. You might get more than you bargained for."
You frowned slightly, tilting your head as you look up at him. "Pity. I always figured you were more of a taker."
"Oh?" This time he increased the pressure on your throat. You wished he would free you so you could grab onto him and anchor him tighter against you. "Take? You want me to just take what I want? The way you do? Want me to take everything I've been fucking wanting for years? Even if you can't handle it? Want me to take out my frustration on you for every time you've bitched and bossed me around?"
You thighs squirmed beneath him as he ranted on, squeezing against each other as arousal pooled in your stomach. Your nails dug into the skin, a smile spreading across your face as you saw him get visibly worked up. "Oh? Can't?"
"Fuck..." he growled, narrowing his eyes. "Watch."
You're in absolute heaven as he dove back down to connect his lips with yours, making your head spin from both the euphoria and lack of blood flow to your brain. His tongue danced against your own, fighting against you to force you to submit to him. The combination of both choking and making out seemed like something straight out of a twitter link, and yet your best friend was doing it to you in real time. You never thought you'd see the day.
The hand holding your wrists let go, weaving beneath your head to grip onto your hair, pulling your head back to angle your face the way he wanted. Your hands flew to his forearm, feeling the way it flexed beneath your fingers.
Your grip tightened as you try to keep up with his kisses, taking small gasps of air when you got the chance. Jungkook couldn't seem to get enough of you, though, fully okay with taking away all your air so long as it meant he got to keep kissing you.
His hands started riding up your shirt, clawing to get your clothes off. None of the times he's peeped at you when you were changing or saw you getting out of a shower prepared him for this. The idea of seeing you naked in front of him in this context sent his heart rate rocketing, going far beyond the dirty dreams he had of you. And he planned to fulfill every single one, just for you, since you were his favorite.
You're barely able to contain your squeak when his hand slid up to cup your bra, tugging it down enough to free a nipple for him to pinch and play with. You arched, aching for his touch, feeling his long, nimble fingers rub the sensitive bud and pull beneath the fabric of your top.
Impatient as he was, though, he ceased kissing you to tug your shirt over your head, yanking it up and tugging both cups of your bra beneath your breasts to get a better look, admiring how they looked still partially pushed up by undergarment.
The sight of you panting, nipples hard and aching for him to tease them more, was almost enough to make him burst on the spot.
He brought one hand back to your other breast, touch as light as a feather as he slowly circled your areola, admiring how you shuddered beneath him.
"You're so sensitive," he observed, refusing to give you any more just yet. "Is this what you wanted?"
You bit your lip, feeling like he was driving you crazy with how slow he was going. "Wanted you to actually do something," you hissed, trying to get him to touch you more, frustrated beyond belief with how soft he was being now. "You're boring me."
His nostrils flared at that, the jab clearly succeeding.
"Boring?" he repeated, eyes narrowing at your brattiness.
You didn't have time to react before he slapped your tit harshly, making you howl as he gave them both a tight grip, his palms now squeezing and kneading at your breasts without pretense.
"You can't even be good for five seconds, huh?" He hissed out the words, harshly tugging at your nipples and letting them go, seeing how your breasts bounced back before he slapped the other for good measure. "Just have to be a brat like always."
You tried to grab onto his wrists for some control, but it angered him more, grabbing your hands and shoving them into the mattress as he dipped his head down to sink his teeth into one of the fleshy mounds.
Your back bent like a bow, hands trying to push against his with no avail as he bit you. Your cry was pathetic, shrill, surprised, everything Jungkook dreamed of.
He finally took his mouth off you, your skin shiny with spit where his bite mark was. You could make out the individual indents of his teeth printed on you. He squeezed your wrists one more time in warning, keeping them firmly pressed. "Stay."
He let go of you, and shockingly enough, you were obedient. You anxiously waited for what he would do next, hands beside your head.
Jungkook took his time undressing you, savoring the anticipation that built up from the very moment he took off your top. He reached beneath your back and unclipped your bra, taking it off and throwing it carelessly to the side. It was when he started tugging your pants off that your breath hitched, realization for what was truly about to happen finally dawning on you. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, the final article to be taken off. You felt so exposed in front of him, but his hungry eyes and ravenous expression told you that he was far beyond pleased with what he saw.
Yeah, you definitely weren't like a sister to him.
"Fuck, I knew it," Jungkook breathed out as he slowly slid your underwear down your legs, admiring the string of wetness that stretched between the fabric and your pussy until it snapped in half. "Knew you'd be pretty here too."
You blushed at his compliment, immediately trying to close your legs when you felt Jungkook's fingers begin to explore your body, running up and down your inner thighs. The two of you hadn't yet begun, and somehow Jungkook was already going above and beyond your wildest fantasies by reaching into the twisted underbelly of your desire.
"Ah-ah, spread your legs. There we go. Don't hide yourself from me." His digits travelled up and down your folds, feeling how wet you already were. All he's done was kiss you a bit, and you're this worked up? You always worried about being the one to ruin him for good, but the opposite might just be true. "Fuck... meant it when I said you were the prettiest I've ever seen."
Your mind spun back to the phone call with Sasha, how he talked about how bad he wanted her and all the things he would do to her...
All the things he was going to do to you right now.
Jungkook grinned down at you mischievously as you twitched beneath his touch. "Yeah, baby. Fuck you're so beautiful. Always thought so. Prettier than all those other girls. Fuck, they couldn't even fucking compare."
"Jungkook..."
"Oh would you look at that. She does know my name," he crooned sweetly, bringing his other hand to your folds, clit trapped beneath two fingers as he slid them teasingly up and down your sex, pinning your hips down as you started to move against him. "What happened to Kookie and Jeon, huh?"
"Fine then, Jeon," you gritted out, annoyed with how cocky he was becoming already.
"So much attitude." Jungkook tsked, pinching your clit one more time before slapping your cunt, watching your hips jump in response. "Why don't you make yourself cum, then. Since you don't need me."
He slipped his hand away from you, enjoying the whine that followed.
Fuck, that wasn't want you wanted. You were already beginning to miss Jungkook's touch, and you hadn't even gotten to feel him inside of you yet.
You felt another smack against you at your hesitation, your best friend clearly not pleased with your disobedience.
"I'm waiting," he reminded, voice laced with irritation.
You shakily brought one of the hands by your head down to your pussy, cupping your heat and slowly rubbing your fingers up and down. Your other hand came up to toy with your nipple, pinching and rolling the bud to replicate the earlier feeling. You've done this a million times already, often imagining something quite similar to this. Still, seeing Jungkook hovering above you in real life went far beyond your daydreams, and the wet sounds of your fingers sliding between your folds did little to conceal how turned on you were by the sight.
"Fuck, that's it. You're so wet. You must like me a lot, huh?" Jungkook's smug smile stretched across his face, enjoying watching how your face burned and your fingers pressed harder against yourself with his teasing.
"You're delusional," you spat out, thighs twitching when you trap your clit between two knuckles, same as he did, applying the perfect amount of pressure.
"Am I?" His eyes weren't leaving your fingers, watching how you quickened your pace, pressing harder against your own hand. Desperate. Just how he wanted you. "Go ahead and put a finger inside."
You did so, your walls easily accommodating the small digit as you curled it inside of yourself, pressing your mound deep against your palm as you repeated the motion inside. You spread your legs a bit wider, feeling yourself become stimulated on both in and out, but it wasn't enough.
Jungkook knew it, too.
"Another." His voice came off strained now, an edge to it that made it sound like he was the one becoming frustrated.
You obeyed, feeling a little bit fuller, but not enough. You dragged your hand further out before pumping back inside, trying to reach deeper.
He smirked, watching your hips circle as you tried to fuck your own hand, your eyes practically pleading with everything you refused to admit.
He trailed a finger along the inside of your thigh, fingernail barely grazing against you as he encouraged you to continue. "Do you need help?" His coo was patronizing, his smile growing bigger as he watched you glare back at him in defiance.
"N-No," you denied, curling your fingers deep again.
"Mm, I think you do. Those tiny little fingers can't reach where you need, huh?" He put his hand on top of yours, not going inside, just feeling how yours moved beneath his with every curl and drag of your digits. "Bet I can get in deeper than you ever could. I could hit the spots that drive you crazier than you already are."
He hand slid lower, fingertips grazing just above where your own sunk into your entrance.
"I don't think you're doing it right," he sighed, shaking his head out of pity. "How do you not even know how to touch yourself properly?"
"I... I do!" Your brain was starting to become fuzzy with his words, hips jolting up a little as though to protest with you.
He shook his head again, like he didn't believe you. "You need help. You're never going to finish at this rate."
You bit your lip, pumping your fingers harder, pressing further against your palm. He was right. It wasn't enough.
"Just ask for help, baby, c'mon. I can show you how to do it, but you have to ask nicely."
The last thing you typically ever wanted to do was prove Jungkook right.
Then why were you nodding your head in agreement, with tears pricking your eyes in frustration?
Quietly, as though you were ashamed to say it, "Help me. Please."
You wanted to smack the triumphant smile off his face the moment you saw it, but found no room to protest when his fingers slowly slid in alongside yours, stretching you out as he curled them inside, making you bend to his will. Your body seemed all too eager to accept any part of him after all these years. You felt him control the pace of how you fucked yourself, his digits pressed snugly against yours as he pumped them in and out, hitting deeper just like he promised.
You moaned as he hit your g-spot, the combination of both of your fingers inside of you making your head spin. You must've been wearing the most wanton expression, your eyes slightly crossed, your cheeks warming as you felt pleasure take over, mouth parting as a moan left your lips.
That's it. That's the look Jungkook's been dreaming of seeing.
"See? Doesn't that feel so much better?" The obscenely wet gush of your pussy around both of your digits seemed to answer for you. "Doesn't it feel so good when someone finally hits it right?"
You couldn't even properly speak, mouth hanging open as you absentmindedly nodded for him yet again.
"Hm? Don't want to talk?" He thrust a bit firmer now, his aim deliberate and precise against the spot that had your thighs trembling. "I can feel how much deeper I get in this little pussy in comparison to you. Doesn't it feel so good?"
"K-Kook—"
"Not my name." He thrust his digits harder as punishment, forcing your own fingers in deeper as well.
You were starting to get close, he could tell. The pleasured look on your face was getting harder to mask.
"Could've had this any time, you know. I would've given it to you." He leaned in, lips curled into a smile and barely brushing against yours as he whispered, "All you had to do was ask."
"I—" You gasped against him, your palm now firmly glued to your clit, pathetically humping against it as he pressed his hand harder on top of yours. "I couldn't!"
"So stubborn," he hummed, pulling his fingers out and tugging at your wrist as well to leave you completely empty.
You were about to whine, but any argument you had died on your tongue the moment his hand returned.
He didn't give you a second to think about it, the two fingers going back inside you and repeatedly hitting your g-spot hard and firm. You didn't think he was going to be able to figure out your body so quickly, and you were already falling apart at his every touch. His other hand came up to pinch at your folds, squeezing your clit between them until the thumb on the hand pounded you reached up to press light circles. All you could do was moan and gasp as he alternated between keeping your clit trapped between two fingers and rubbing between your folds or pounding into you deep and reaching parts you yourself had trouble stimulating. Just as you got used to one, he switched to the other, never letting you get too used to one either sensation too long.
"Bet you've never felt this good," he hissed under his breath, giddy at seeing you fall apart from his hands. "You've got such a cute, dumb look on your face right now."
You couldn't bite back a retort, practically choking on the words you wanted to say.
As much as Jungkook typically got annoyed by your constant need to have the last word, he couldn't help but anticipate every response you were having to him now.
"Hm? Don't tell me you're too fucked out to speak already," he mused, watching you whine and squirm as he once again pulled his fingers out of you. "You usually have so much to say."
Able to recollect your thoughts while riding the edge he had you on, all you could feel was frustration and arousal. You'd think it'd be your baseline at this point. "Fuck you, you fucking asshole!"
"So much attitude, huh?" He grinned at your vulgarity, cupping your face to crash your lips against his.
You chased after him automatically, groaning into the kiss despite the ache left in your stomach as your orgasm washed away. He licked against your tongue, swallowing your moan and snaking it around yours as he did so. He pulled back slightly, nibbling against your bottom and licking over it in apology. With impatience he slipped his way back between your parted lips, intent on stealing every sigh you had to offer. He hummed, the vibration against your lips sending a tingle down your spine.
You broke away for a second, breathless. "What're you going to do about it?"
If Jungkook didn't know you better, he would've scoffed at your sheer audacity. He knew you like the back of his hand, however, and you weren't someone who was going to break easily, no matter how badly you wanted to. "It's about time we fix that."
"Do your worst."
The challenge hung in the air for just a moment before Jungkook accepted.
"I intend to."
He slapped your ass hard, tossing you back down onto the bed, watching you bounce slightly against the springs. You gasped in surprise, and his hand slapped against your mouth, the movement sharp enough to leave a sting but not hard enough to not leave a mark.
Jungkook grabbed your jaw and straightened your head to look back at him, letting your mind whir. He leaned in close to your face, studying your expression.
"I intend to do a lot of things tonight."
You licked your lips, now tingling, trying to pull yourself together to stay present, trying to show at least some semblance of self restraint.
Jungkook on the other hand was unsure of whether you really wanted to take it this far. Were you ready to face the consequences the way he was?
He bit his lip, clearly mulling over something in his mind. You, on the other hand, grew impatient, wondering what was taking him so long. You glared at him expectantly, confused by the unease in his eyes.
"What?" You practically bit out the words, unsure if there was something wrong. Did he suddenly see something he didn't like? It didn't seem like it with how he was all over you earlier. That, and he was clearly very hard.
"Are you... are you sure you want this?"
The question stunned you, throwing you for a loop.
"Excuse me?"
"It's just—" He licked his lips, trying to find the right words. "I don't want you to feel pressured just because I want—"
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at that. This was not the time for second thoughts, and you most definitely wanted this. Needed it, in fact, or you'd die on the spot.
"Shut up and get your dick out, Jeon." You rose a brow, testing him. "Unless you're scared you can't meet expectations."
Ah. There it is. He almost forgot for a second who he was dealing with. He ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, hands finally going down to his waistband to reveal your prize. "Fine. Careful what you ask for, brat."
Your eyes widened when he yanked down his underwear as well, and your thighs automatically pressed together.
You should've known. You should've known the universe had it out against you by giving Jungkook a dick too big, too pretty for words. It was much more than you deserved, and quite possibly much more than you could take.
It wasn't just the length that concerned you, but rather the intimidating girth. Your cunt immediately clenched in anticipation as you eyed up his cock, thinking about how much he was going to stretch you out when he finally managed to fit all of himself inside you.
"That's—" Your mouth opened and closed repeatedly, trying to form words, and you licked your suddenly dry lips. "How am I—"
Jungkook gripped your jaw, forcing your gaze to lift from his cock to his face, his eyes leaving no room for argument. "You've been begging for this dick for years, and now you're finally gonna take it."
It wasn't until you slowly nodded in agreement that he smiled, pumping his dick in his hand to get it even harder for you. He grabbed your thighs, tugging you closer to the edge of the bed until your ass dangled over it, Jungkook's cock now sliding along your folds, lubricating himself.
He ran the tip up and down your sex, eyes flying up to your face to study your expression when he nudged against your clit. He searched for any doubt in your eye, any semblance of anything besides lust.
"Are you ready?" His words were quiet, just one last check in before he sunk home, and neither of you could go back.
You stared up at him, eyes searching his as well now. You didn't say a word, just grabbed his dick, feeling the weight of him in your palm, and aligning him with your entrance.
That's so like you. You never second guess anything once you put your mind to it.
Jungkook slowly slid inside, bullying himself into you and forcing your walls to accommodate him. You held your breath, the stretch around him making you feel impossibly full already. Neither of you looked away from the other, eyes locked on one another's, unable to look away. Both of you were greedy, wanting to read every micro-expression of the other's as you joined. It wasn't until his balls were pressed snug against your ass that you felt the cockhead kiss your cervix, a perfect fit, like a the final piece of a puzzle clicking into place.
The other half.
Jungkook must've felt it too, muttering a quick curse under his breath as he stilled inside of you, savoring the feeling. "Fuck, you feel perfect around me. Perfect little cocksleeve."
You gasped when he pulled his hips back before plunging into you, letting the feeling of how full you were overwhelm you.
"Slutty pussy— fuck, you feel so good," he panted, another staccato thrust burying into you. "Take it so well."
You squeezed your eyes shut, turning to the side, heat rushing through your cheeks as you felt him reach deeper and deeper inside of you, just to see when you ended. Jungkook didn't like that. He tsked, grabbing your jaw and turning your face towards him.
"Look at me."
Part of you wanted to continue being bratty, squeeze your eyes shut harder and shake your head in earnest. And yet, you were opening your eyes, looking back at your best friend, knowing he was studying every lewd look on your face. Your half lidded eyes, your parted lips, the flush in your cheeks. Your other half knew what you looked like turned on, what you looked like getting fucked, what you looked like underneath him. This was something neither of you could ever undo.
"Good girl," Jungkook grinned, patting your jaw roughly in condescension, like you were some pet who liked it like that. Which you were, obviously. "You're gonna look at me when I fuck you baby."
He rolled his hips, letting you feel what he felt like when he stayed buried deep inside you, nudging against that spot that seemed only he could find.
"Want you to know exactly who's fucking you." His hand never left your jaw, forcing you to lock eyes with him as you took in what it really meant to be fucked by him.
You wanted to cover your face all over again. The pathetic look in your eye was practically begging for mercy already.
"If you so much think of complaining I'll pull out right now and let you finish yourself off," Jungkook threatened. Your thighs clenched at the threat, the possibility being the worst thing you could think of in this moment.
"No!" Your bratty pout was so endearing to him. "Please don't stop. Please, Kookie."
The nickname sounded so sweet in this context. Still, he wanted to hear you moan his name properly.
"Shouldn't even let you cum, you're such a fucking bitch to me," Jungkook groaned, pounding harder into you as he felt himself getting close. "You don't—fuck—deserve it, do you?"
"No," you whined, hoping to appease him enough for him to give you grace. "Please, please let me cum Jungkook."
"Mm, I'll think about it." You couldn't slap the evil grin off of Jungkook's face even if you wanted to. His eyes lit up with glee at the frustration you felt, his hips slamming harder against yours, as though trying to dig in deeper.
You mewled, squirming beneath him like a pathetic pet. A needy moan left your lips, much whinier than you intended.
“Fuuuck you’re doing so good for me,” Jungkook groaned, slapping your breast again as a reward. “You gonna behave?”
Your desperate nod of affirmation only added to your embarrassment at his words. Your gut twisted into knots as he plowed into you, his pace unrelenting, and your orgasm approaching too fast.
You pressed a hand against the hard plane of his abdomen, trying to soften the blows. You gnawed on your bottom lip, the hand weakly pushing against him doing nothing to ease the pace. "It's— fuck, Jungkook— it's too much!"
"Nah," he grunted, sneering at you, slapping your hand again and gripping onto your hips tighter to force you to meet his thrusts even harder.. "You're gonna take what I give you and shut up for once."
You shook your head at the overwhelming feeling taking over you, tears pricking your eyes as you pushed both hands this time against his abdomen.
Jungkook grabbed onto both wrists now, pulling against them in time with him, using your resistance as another tool to fuck yourself on his cock. You could see the bulge in your lower stomach move along with him, seeing exactly how deep in your guts he was getting. Your pussy pulsated around him, your release near.
Jungkook knew exactly what that meant.
He shoved your hands back down to the mattress, leaning closer over you, snaking his tongue back in your mouth and reaching one hand down to have his thumb stimulate your clit, earning a delicious cry for him to swallow.
He was in absolute heaven right now.
"You're about to cum for me, aren't you?" He huffed in your ear, smile evident in his voice. "Can feel you clenching around me. Gonna cream on my shit like a proper bitch, aren't you? Gonna make it all nice and messy on me."
"F-Fuck, s-shut up!" You wailed out the words, tipping your head back in ecstasy as he continued pounding into you.
"Yeah? Want me to shut up, baby? Hate it that much?" He hissed, rubbing harder circles against your clit, the sensation too much, just the way you like it. "Why are you close, then, huh?"
You clearly weren't doing a good job of hiding it, with your stammering, uneven breathing, flushed face, and hooded eyes. You were twisting in his arms, refusing to stay still at all, as though not ready for what was to come.
"Jungkook... please..."
Fuck, you sounded so cute right now. Damn him for always having a weak spot for you. He was really looking forward to edging you all night.
"Cum for me," he cooed in your ear, his voice a soft caress, a drastic juxtaposition to the harsh thrusts that were currently ruining you. "Let me finally feel how this slutty pussy creams all over me. Nasty little slut."
You bit your lip, feeling your pussy pulse harder against him as the heat floods through you and all over him, just as ordered.
Good pet.
He moaned, hands gripping onto your hips hard as he ignored your squeals of oversensitivity, your orgasm renewing him with much vigor. You were completely pressed against the mattress, so much so that you could slight feel the springs underneath. Jungkook pounded into you faster, his head coming down to nip and such at your neck, leaving possessive marks in it's wake.
"Mine," he growled against your skin, "My fucking slut. Say it."
"I-I'm... I... fuck..." you whined, unable to properly think with how fast he was drilling into you, your sex still trembling from the orgasm that still lingered.
"Say it," he nipped your neck, his teeth a warning. "You're mine."
"I'm yours!" Your voice was a breathy gasp, a cute whine Jungkook wanted to eat. "I'm.... I'm yours... Your slut... Y-Yours!"
The groan that left Jungkook was purely animalistic, his press against you more insistent, his hips moving against you as though to blend with you entirely.
"Yes... Fuck yes, that's it... Such a needy little whore, fuck." He kissed your lips, his hands tightening around your hips, his thrusts growing sloppy. "Tightest... fucking best pussy ever. Mmmm, take it just like that, baby. Just like you're supposed to."
One particular thrust knocked the wind out of you, sending your brain spinning as you gasped out.
"Fuck!" You felt your orgasm building back up. "You're going— fuck, you're going so fucking hard!"
"Yeah? You like this?" He snarled, kissing your lips as he ground his hips harder into yours. "Like having your best friend fuck you like a slut?"
"Mmmf, m-more—!"
"Fucking—!" Jungkook groaned, shaking his head slightly before his hips automatically caved to your request, pounding into you with all your could take, and you knew there'd be bruises in the morning.
"Course a slut like you would want more," he rasped, shaking his head again as though he were a fool to believe otherwise. "Always wanted more, haven't you?"
You bit your lip, the coil in your belly tightening to an absurd degree.
"Want me to give you all my attention, that it? Want me to handle my brat?" He said the words with a slight smile, like he already knew the answer. "Want me to fuck this cunt open until the attitude's all gone?"
You nodded desperately, trying to resist the urge to roll your eyes back. "Yes!"
"Fuck, that's it." He rasped the words in your ear before pressing a small kiss against the shell. "Remember I'm the only one who can do it properly. I'm the only one who can fuck you like this. You're mine."
Your orgasm snapped through you, your legs tightening around Jungkook's hips and pulling him into you, like you didn't want him to leave. You locked around him, forcing him to feel every tremor of your pussy around his shaft, and how your orgasm looked up close and person, how it felt around him. Not that he'd want to be anywhere else. There was no place he'd rather be.
"Mm, fuck, so fucking hot. You're finally fucking learning," he cooed, his voice patronizing and delicious all at once. He was just as bratty as you at times. He started thrusting again, helping you ride it out and pushing himself closer to the edge.
"T-That's it, just fuck me like you hate me," you snarled out, nails scratching down his skin as the last few remnants of your orgasm twitched through your limbs.
Jungkook slowed down, furrowing his brows, panting as he stared down at you.
"I don't hate you baby," he rasped out, shaking head. "I love you."
Suddenly, all you heard was white noise.
You twisted your eyes shut, shaking your head. Before you know it, everything's impossibly more overwhelming. And not in the same way it was before. "Wh—That's— That's not—"
Jungkook started slowing his pounding down to a much slower pace, now more so grinding against you in a steady, deep rhythm. His pelvis stayed glued against yours, pressing against your clit as he buried as deep as he could against you. "I don't want to just fuck you," he whispered, leaning in close to brush the tip of his nose against yours, large eyes peering into yours. "I want to make love to you."
It felt like your heart was about to burst at the seams, and you were left with more emotions than you knew what to do with.
"I…you don't…"
"I do," he said surely, his voice low and confident as he felt you clench around him.
You weren’t sure you could handle this level of things. The concept of Jungkook actually making love to you was enough to make your brain explode. Rough, hard sex was already it’s own thing you’d have to deal with. This was something else entirely.
"Just hurry up!"
"No." He shook his head, rolling his hips in an infuriatingly slow pace again. "Wanna take my time with you."
"Fuck, how're you still such a dick head?"
"You know what?" He pressed his palm against your cheek, rolling his thumb over it as he kissed you softly. "You give me all this backtalk, but I think you're gonna come for me again anyways."
You quivered around him as he reached particularly deep inside of you, hitting a sensitive spot.
"Wanna know why?"
He rolled his hips slowly, eyes never leaving your face as you squirmed again.
"Because you like me, too," he whispered, pushing in with another devastating thrust that had you going weak. "You like me so much you don't even know how to act anymore."
You trembled beneath him, the slow, rhythmic pace of his cock against your sweet spot and the deep grind of his pelvis against your clit slowly but surely pushing you to that edge again. What was even worse about it was how Jungkook made you to look in his eyes, forcing you to stare up at how his brows knitted together when he himself started to get close, how he bit his lip as he stared down at you, like he was holding himself back until you came undone yet again.
"Fuck, that's it. Gonna take it however I want like a good girl, won't you?"
Jungkook rebuilt your orgasm piece by piece, and took his time in doing so, quieting you when you whined and kissing you deeply enough that you could barely think about complaining anymore.
Your nails dug into his back, bright red lines following in their wake, a signal you were close. Jungkook's thrusts got sloppier, uneven, his own orgasm now threatening to take over.
He cradled your face in his hands, his pelvis tight against your clit with every grind, your bodies practically melded together.
"Come with me," he breathily begged, lips ghosting over yours with his plea. "Want you to do it with me. Want us to cum together, please baby."
That was your undoing.
You moaned into his mouth as you finally came again, and Jungkook groaned as he pulled out and came on your stomach, his cock bobbing in the air as it twitched and let out spurts of cum onto your heaving abdomen.
Jungkook collapsed on top of you, hugging you tightly as you both tried to regain your breath. You gasped at the feeling of his warmth against your skin, chest heaving against his.
He looked up at you, and his eyes so unexpectedly soft you couldn't help but melt for a moment. As though he hadn't just made you cum within an inch of your life.
“You’re—“ You struggled to catch your breath. “—fucking insane.”
Slowly, he lifted a bit higher, hesitantly leaning in as though he wanted to kiss you again. You reciprocated, leaning in as well, his lips soft as he slowly pressed against you, unhurried and unbothered. Just enjoying the taste of you on his lips. "Fuck, why do you fuck with my head like this?" He groaned softly, his voice a low whisper. "I told you I love you."
He cupped your breast, dipping his head now to capture your nipple in between his lips, sucking tenderly at the bud while making eye contact with yours. His eyes were almost pleading, such a jarring juxtaposition in comparison to his earlier demeanor. "You're such a fucking brat with me."
You let out a small huff of amusement, fingers tangling into his hair, a glimpse of your usual Kookie back. "I have to make things difficult for you."
Your hands tightened into a fist in his hair, and he whined against your bud, giving a harsh suck in relation. "Why?" He asked, brows furrowed.
You couldn't help the small smirk that graced your lips. "Because we both know you like it."
He couldn't help the small smirk that graced his. What you said was the truth.
He rose up from your breast to kiss you on the lips again, this one sweet and deep, like he wanted to burn the feeling of your mouth against his into his memory. "Be with me," he panted when he broke the kiss. "More than just sex. Much more. I want to be the one who puts up with your bratty attitude. Only me. Let me."
"You already do," you whispered.
"More than before," he said, nudging his nose against yours. "Let me be your boyfriend. Please."
The corner of your mouth twitched.
Maybe you had a begging kink. Maybe you were also insane. But somehow you found yourself switching Jungkook's title from best friend to boyfriend with a simple, "Well, since you asked so nicely..."
—
The morning after you were sore all over, thick arms holding you pressed against one very naked chest. Jungkook snored softly in your ear, and you were thankful he railed you so hard you were knocked out cold in the end. Jungkook seemed to be in a similar state, still dreaming and clueless as you shimmied your way out of his grip and the bed. You hastily threw on his shirt and a pair of fresh panties, buzzing about the room with a nervousness you weren't used to.
The sight of Jungkook shirtless in your bed, still dozing off, was enough to have your heart palpitating all over again.
Your mind flashed back to the night before, everything that happened. You gazed at your neck in the mirror, the marks left behind on your skin that proved it was all real.
Jungkook was officially yours.
You weren't just his best friend anymore; now you were his girlfriend.
You couldn't help but swallow at the thought. What did that mean, exactly?
What would a good girlfriend do?
Maybe cook breakfast? Jungkook was usually the one who cooked while you slept in during sleepovers, but clearly you had underestimated that one line in Anaconda about NyQuil. You meandered your way to the kitchen, deciding that you could at least cook scrambled eggs. You were so focused on the task, frying the freshly mixed batch in the pan, that you hardly noticed Jungkook's presence until those same arms wrapped around your middle.
"'Morning," he grumbled directly in your ear, his voice deep and raspy from his slumber. "I didn't know you knew how to cook."
You scoffed despite yourself. "I'm just not as good as you, ok? You know a lot more dishes than I do."
"I could always teach you." His lips brushed softly against your neck, and goosebumps littered your arms at the action.
"I prefer when you just do it for me."
His hands gripped on to your hips, and you were reminded once again of how different he could be when he really wanted to. "You're so spoiled."
You half expected him to punish you for it, bend you over the counter and take you there, but he doesn't. Instead his eyes lowered to your lips, and he looks back up as though for permission.
You leaned in a little, hesitant, holding your breath as you gave him an opening.
He slowly leaned in, one hand coming up to cup at your jaw, letting his lips press against yours. He slotted them in place, the kiss soft and firm, moving his lips again to deepen the kiss further. You felt the butterflies in your stomach as you leaned in further, letting your pace instinctually match his, the languid, unspoken rhythm taking over like you had all the time in the world. It felt natural, no sense of awkwardness or mess.
Jungkook's fingers twitched against your face, pulling you in closer, tilting his head so he can kiss you again and again, like hadn't been doing it properly before. You knew you could spend hours just feeling the sweet caress of his mouth against yours.
It wasn't until he pulled away and said, "Oh fuck, the eggs," that you realized oh fuck, the eggs.
"Shit shit shit!" You threw away your shitty burned eggs in the trash, your perfect kiss ruined by your failure of cuisine. "Fuck, I suck at this!"
"Hey hey, it's ok," Jungkook took your face in his hands, turning you to face him "It's alright. I can make the eggs. I know you prefer fried anyways."
You bit your lip, staring up at your adoring, caring best— no, boyfriend.
You chuckled softly, feeling a bit silly all of the sudden. "I think I'm already sucking at this whole girlfriend thing."
"Are you kidding? You knocked my ass out and now you're making me breakfast? This is more than I ever expected," he assured you.
"Well, now you're the one making breakfast, because I'm one bad slip from setting my place on fire," you sighed.
"Nah, you're not that bad. I was just distracting you." He pecked you again on the lips, like he just couldn't help himself. "And you're right. I'm the better cook."
"I think I specifically said you knew more dishes," you recalled.
Jungkook shrugged. "Same thing. And besides, I like cooking for my girlfriend."
You felt your cheeks heat up at the very word, Jungkook no doubt noticing. You glared at him when he smiled back; of course he noticed. "You know us officially dating doesn't magically solve all of our problems, right?"
"I never thought it would," Jungkook said.
"We'll probably still fight. A lot."
"Don't most old married couples? We're just used to each other already, like them."
You rolled your eyes a bit at that. "And you're ok with that?"
"There's no one I'd rather end arguments with than you," he grinned, pinching your cheeks just to annoy you. "Because you're the one always starting them."
You scrunched your nose, turning your head to nip at his fingers, pulling him in a bit closer to kiss him, because now you finally can. "Want me to start something else?"
Jungkook's eyes seemed to light up at that, turning off the stove and lifting you onto the cool marble countertop. "So you are still serving me breakfast," he quipped teasingly, tugging your panties off and spreading your legs.
"You're such a good girlfriend," Jungkook mumbled quietly to himself before descending between your thighs.
You buried your hand in his hair, looking down and wondering how the fuck both of you were so stupid as to not do this before.
jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.
PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader
GENRE r18+ (explicit smut, fluff, light angst) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
WORD COUNT 26.6k
WARNINGS/MISC fwb!au, college!au, basketball player!jk, kinda secret relationship(?)!au, nerdy!oc but not really she’s just very school-oriented, jk is tatted up here and is very yummy especially in his jersey sighs, hes also rich lol, school journalist!reader, jk calls oc a lot of petnames, basketball stuff im not sure are accurate t-t. multiple sex scenes honestly idek where all of these came from but they include: unprotected sex (this is a fanfiction everything tends to be crazy around these areas don’t do it irl pls omg lol), penetrative sex, creampie, cumplay, car sex, jk’s silver chain hehe, slight cockwarming, oral sex (f and m receiving), jk wears those curvy headbands thing (they look so cute on guys in fact he wore it once), shower sex. if there is anything i left out, pls tell me so that i can add them here. jungkooks visual is jungkook at jitb listening party .
NOTES if u have been following me you'll know this is a repost haha! i decided to publish this again so you can read it on tumblr if u dont like to read on ao3! also, please pleasssseee send me guys your feedbacks after reading it even a keyboard smash goes a long way anyway ill shut up now i hope you guys enjoy this monster!! last note, pls be gentle with my cn&bl babies <33
[ CN&BL MOODBOARD ]
The late March weather has been cold these days, so when Jungkook – in his real fuckboy fashion – texted you that his nose could use a heater and he could offer to warm you up in return, you agreed for him to come over even though you pretended to be disgusted by his offer.
“Hurry,” you whimper as aforementioned man manhandles you to get you off his lap, making you bounce on the mattress.
Just like that, the warmth from being pressed against his body was gone, exchanged by the cold immediately spreading goosebumps through your skin as Jungkook makes quick work of spreading your legs, eliciting a bit of an uncomfortable feeling from you as you feel your cum leaking out.
Jungkook swipes a hand through his sweaty hairline as he kneels inside your spread legs, and you have to fight a moan at the sight. You still feel a little delirious from when he made you cum the second time just a minute ago, still lightheaded from the high of it. But you can’t deny that he always looks so good in all his natural, naked form; chest heaving, toned stomach coated in sheer sweat, his biceps – especially the tatted one – bulging as he reaches for your hips to pull you down so he could enter you once again.
It tears a cry from your vocal chords, him thrusting in and out of your wet pussy, his pace frantic and inconsistent, a tell-tale sign of his impending orgasm. His grunts, together with your pathetic little moans at the feel of his cock touching every part of your pussy filled the room.
“Fuck, I’m close,” he groans, leaning down, and as a result, reaching deeper into you, mouth reaching for your breast to your mouth. The kiss is a sloppy act of both of you just breathing in each other’s mouths, as Jungkook drills your pussy faster, his fingers tightening around your waist. A particular hard thrust got you drawing out a loud mewl and that’s what tips Jungkook over the edge. “F-fuck – shit, where do I cum baby? Tell me, tell me.”
“Inside– fuck. Please cum inside me,”
He lets out a sharp breath and after a few more erratic strokes, you feel his hot release painting your inner walls.
“Shit,” Jungkook hissed as he fell on top of you. You can feel the way he’s heaving as his skin touches yours, but you let yourself relax on the mattress, breathing shallow breaths.
Since he’s way more athletic than you, he got over it soon and you feel him picking himself up to hover over you, beginning to plant kisses all over your chest and the mole in between them; your nipples, your shoulders, your collarbones.
“Kook,” you call softly, your limp hand patting his ass to get his attention. He always gets so preoccupied with kissing your body after sex.
Jungkook hums, but he looks at you. “Yeah?”
You grunt. “I jwashed my sheets two days ago and I don’t want cum stains on them.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he leans down, and even though you were complaining just now, you let out quite a joyful hum when he kisses you. “Let me see first.”
You don’t need to ask what he’s referring to.
Pushing your body back up, Jungkook takes it upon himself to get his body off of you only to watch as you slide two fingers over your pussy, spreading the lips so he can see the combination of your and his cum all over it.
“You need to hurry, Nayeon is coming home in a few minutes.”
He doesn’t even try to look like he’s concerned about the urgency of that matter, just hums absentmindedly and gets his own finger to run over your exposed heat. You shiver at the contrast of the hot feeling of your pussy and the cold feeling of his finger, but it soon turns into pleasure when he gathers your cum and pushes it back into you.
“Are you going to keep it in for me?” He whispers, a thumb now caressing your hip.
“Depends.”
Jungkook looks back up at you, a sly grin spreading on his lips. “On what?”
“If you’re going to be good and say please when you want something.” You grin at him, feeling pretty proud of yourself for catching him off guard. It doesn’t last long very much though as he smirks, but as soon as he opens his mouth, you hear a series of knocks and your eyes widen at that.
You hissed. “Shit, that’s Nayeon.”
You sit up from the bed. Jungkook mirrors your haste, scrambling to find his clothes on the floor and putting them on quickly. You have your robe just nearby so you put just that on, ignoring the tingling sensation of cum trickling down your legs.
“I have to go.” Jungkook whispers, and you nod, walking towards the window on the far end of the room and opening it up widely.
Like usual, Jungkook steps on the frame and easily hauls himself outside. It’s the backside of the building of your complex, and it’s mostly and usually quiet, so it was pretty safe for him to just go out of there without anyone noticing, and most especially at times like this. Because Nayeon can’t know. No one can.
“I’ll see you later, pretty.”
Jungkook winks at you and you playfully roll your eyes, waving him off which earns a laugh from him. He easily saunters through the perimeter though and you find it quite unfair how he still carries a certain graceful energy to him even though he literally just did an exhausting cardio exercise with you for about thirty minutes. Ugh, him and his athletic body.
Nayeon’s voice can be heard across the flat, but before you let her in, you sprayed an unhealthy amount of air freshener on your body and around the room (just in case she enters) and shoved your discarded clothes from earlier in the laundry basket. After that, you finally run towards the door, welcoming Nayeon with a smile as you open it.
“Hi!” You greet rather cheerfully. She immediately hugs you briefly, groaning as she steps back and enters your little abode.
“Class sucked today,” she throws herself on the couch and you give her a sympathetic smile, walking towards the fridge to get water.
“Well, wish me luck. I’m headed out to one.”
“God, I can’t wait ‘til we graduate, I’m tired of this bullshit.” She says, but she’s opening up her laptop for what you could guess as for finishing up an assigned work. “I wish I was having bomb sex like you. Hey, do you want to go to this party on Friday?”
“I – what?”
“Party on Friday? Finals season for basketball starts on Friday and they’re planning a party. We could use free booze and stress-free night.” Nayeon repeats, but you weren’t asking for the party. You tried to ignore it, but you have the tendency to overexpplain yourself so that you do not get misunderstood.
“I’m not having bomb sex.” You say, and that makes her look at you. At that, you realized you shouldn't have taken the bait. Stupid, stupid, stupid you. You could've swerved this topic if you weren't so quick to react at the word sex.
You stare at each other for a solid few seconds until she rolls her eyes.
“Girl, your hair looks like a bird’s nest and your lips are swollen as hell. I might not be having bomb sex in the current moment but I know what I look like after I do the deed,” She wore her eyeglasses and perched it on her nose. “And you kinda smelled like sex when you opened the door.”
“No!” You feel heat coming and spreading through your cheeks. You thought the damn Febreeze would hold up!
Nayeon waves you off. “It’s fine, it’s not like you haven’t caught me before like that.”
“It’s embarrassing.” You insist, stuffing your face with a bread you took from the counter and purposefully not meeting Nayeon’s gaze so you don’t see the teasing smiles you’re sure she’s sending your way.
“That you’re having sex in college?!” Her playful scandalous tone makes you laugh though and that’s when you look at her.
“No, ugh. Just. Sorry. If I smelled like sex. I tried spraying a lot of air freshener earlier.”
She wiggles her brows. “Oh, is that why you took a long time opening the door? Was your sneaky link here just now?”
“Sneaky what?” You say, laughing.
“Sneaky link. You know, a hook up. Wait, is it a boyfriend? Please say no, because I would be extremely offended if you haven’t introduced your boyfriend to me all this time.”
You could swear you felt goosebumps on your nape when you heard the word boyfriend and saw images of Jungkook in your head immediately, as if you were used to associating him to the word.
“It’s definitely not a boyfriend. Just… someone I hook up with sometimes.”
“Interesting. Do I know him?”
The question makes you nervous. She definitely knows. No one not knows who Jungkook is at your campus.
With a shake of your head, you tell her, straight-faced, “Nope.”
“Okay, which department? Does he go to our Uni?” She asks, now seemingly fully invested in this conversation rather than the assignment before her. You’re happy to be a bit of a help to lessen her sour mood from earlier but you shake your head and let out playful tsk-ing sounds,
“Too many questions, babe,” You teased. “My class is starting in twenty minutes.”
You heard her laughing as you carried your clothes to the bathroom to change and to clean up the mess in your nether region. Damn. Jungkook cums a lot these days… he needs to masturbate or something.
“Fine, fine! You don’t want me to know but I’m gonna find out about the mystery guy one way or another!”
Shutting the door to the bathroom, your face contorts at Nayeon’s words.
Yeah, absolutely not. Jungkook and you made an agreement in the first place that everyone should be oblivious of your situationship, and it’s worked for almost four months now.
You can’t fuck it up now.
As soon as you fixed yourself, you bid your goodbye to Nayeon who went ahead and busied herself by hacking away on her laptop, grabbing your bag and heading out and finally walking to your Uni that was just a few minutes away from your complex. Your apartment is almost like a dorm, to be honest.
The hallway is a little crowded, but you don’t miss a certain brunette in a familiar gray hoodie you’ve had in your closet before.
You meet Jungkook’s eyes but you quickly change your gaze to his friend, Taehyung, who’s walking beside him as he greets you cheerfully.
"Hey, ___!” You return his smile, waving. You had a Philo class with Kim Taehyung at one point and found out that despite your preassumptions about him for being a varsity guy, he was a pretty interesting person to talk with. You’re not super close per se, just acquainted enough to acknowledge each other when you meet somewhere like the campus hallways.
You don’t like the attention it draws, though. So you walk straight to your destination.
Varsity guys tend to be famous, and you’ve chosen to steer yourself away from them. Ironic, though, considering that you’re fucking one. Obviously, you’re not doing a very good job at “steering yourself away from them”.
Maybe it’s the sole reason why it’s a secret. Jungkook is the star player of the basketball team together with Taehyung and a few other guys. You know their usual gist. Famous circle, lavish lifestyle, attractive guys who (unfortunately) know it, skillful at the sports they do, too many people fawning over them. And well… not to be that person but you’re just someone dutifully studying here. Someone in the background. And you love that mostly, but sometimes you think that maybe… it’s why Jungkook seems to never entertain the idea of making your relationship public. Not that you would like that yourself. You took part in the secrecy agreement, suggested it yourself, in fact. You would never admit to anyone you’re fucking him. But, well. It’s just weird.
Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Someone’s going to end it eventually and you’re gonna make sure it’s you… just so it’s established that you aren’t the one who’s more willing in the relationship. Yeah, that. Just not now. School is stressful. You like sex with him.
When you arrive at the lecture hall, your phone vibrates. A text from Jungkook is plastered all over your lock screen.
[1:15pm] Jeon: hi pretty
[1:15pm] Jeon: nice skirt :)
You internally roll your eyes. Him and his literal and figurative skirt chaser tendencies.
[1:20pm] You: Hi.
You get a reply immediately.
[1:20pm] Jeon: wanna grab dinner later
You stare at his text, a little taken aback.
That’s new. Sure, you had grabbed lunch with him at his stupid fancy Benz like, once. After he fucked you in it to ease your nerves about a class presentation you did earlier that day. He didn’t offer, he just bought you Chinese because you passed by a resto as he drove you to your place.
Anyway. You don’t know why he would do this all of a sudden. You fucked three days ago, then the day after that, then earlier this day. You’re not complaining but you never predicted your sex life would be so active like this.
[1:22pm] You: Pass. Studying later
Which is true. You have a Tech Writing quiz tomorrow, though not necessarily hard. Whatever. Your thoughts in the hallway awhile ago are making you feel kind of weird about him right now.
[1:23pm] Jeon: boring
[1:23pm] You: ):<
[1:23pm] Jeon: cute :) do u want me to order boba ill deliver it to ur place after ur class
Well, that is definitely not new. Jungkook delivers you food, like, every single time.
[1:24pm] You: :))) Yess. Thank you
[1:24pm] You: I’m going to venmo you
[1:25pm] Jeon: lol yk im just gonna venmo it back to u
True. There’s been a lot of back and forth in that app. One time, he “jokingly” sent you a hundred dollars (a hundred dollars!) after you kept on insisting you pay for the takoyaki he made delivered to you, and that horrified you so much that of course you sent the money back to him, but he made you promise to stop trying to argue with him about the payment thing. It doesn’t mean you don’t feel bad about it still though…
[1:25pm] You: 😤😠
[1:27pm] Jeon: do u also want anything besides boba
[1:27pm] You: Noppee, I think Nayeon is going to cook something for us later
[1:28pm] Jeon: alright
[1:28pm] You: Are you sure you don’t want me to pay you back?
[1:28pm] Jeon: nahh it’s alright
[1:28pm] Jeon: besides I can think of other ways for u to pay me back without money involved.. ;)
Ah, there he is. He really couldn’t go on a day without sexual innuendos.
[1:29pm] You: You are infuriating and I’m turning off mh phone
[1:29pm] You: *my
[1:29pm] Jeon: you like when I annoy you so ..
[1:29pm] You: No I don’t and Im so sore i feel like my brain will leak out of my ears from so much sex
[1:29pm] You: Also please stop using ellipsis in texts
[1:29pm] Jeon: hmm
[1:29pm] Jeon: who said anything about sex?
[1:30pm] Jeon: not me🤔 do u think i just think about sex all the time
[1:30pm] Jeon: what’s worng with ellipsis…?
[1:32pm] You: Yes you do think about sex all the time
He reacted to that message with the HAHA emoticon, and you felt yourself having a hard time fighting an eyeroll.
[1:32pm] Jeon: you know me so well
[1:32pm] You: Also, nothing wrong with ellipsis they just remind me of how my dad texts
[1:32pm] Jeon: ummmmm im sure ur dad is great so im flattered
You snorted at that.
[1:33pm] You: you do NOT know that
[1:33pm] Jeon: i thought you were turning off your phone
[1:34pm] You: I am right now so don’t reply prof is walking to the lecture hall now
[1:35pm] Jeon: good luck baby ;)
Nayeon didn’t convince you enough to join her at the party she mentioned before come Friday night. In a weird parallelism, Jungkook also texted you about a party you could come to, and eventually, you’ve come to realize that it was his party. Their party.
Your Uni’s basketball team held a celebratory one because they won the first game of Finals. You only knew when you went to the school’s publication office earlier. The freshman sports journalist, Ryujin, came to you to ask you some questions about her rough draft about said game.
You see, this is one of those times when you are reminded that Jungkook and you really only have a relationship through sex. Sure, you know some stuff about each other. Like how you are an English major, he’s taking Computer Science, you’re the managing director of the school’s publication, he’s a star player in the basketball team; he knows about your favorite takoyaki flavor (it’s smoked bacon) and your boba order, and you know he likes food that you dislike, namely cheese cake and mint chocolate flavored stuff. He also likes Marvel a lot. He knows you’re obsessed with films from the golden age of Hongkong cinema because you mentioned it in passing. (He doesn’t know you particularly love the Wong Kar-wai ones though…)
But somehow, he never really tells you about his basketball games. Sure, he’d mentioned practices before but it’s something he doesn’t bother to include you in. Not that it would matter to you. It’s not like you tell him all about your stuff in school, either.
Your attention is caught by a ping from your phone.
[12:05am] Jeon: hey you still up?
The text reads. You type a reply.
[12:07am] You: Yes, why?
[12:07am] Jeon: let’s facetime
[12:07am] You: Why
[12:08am] Jeon: i want to see your pretty face
Spoken like a true fuckboy. Really?
Before you could respond, his face is taking up your whole screen, asking to facetime you. Without thinking about it too much, you accepted the call, falling back to your bed.
From the screen, you could see that he’s wearing a black shirt with a long silver chain around his neck. He smiles that adorable smile when you finally make your whole face visible to the camera.
“What is it?”
The audio from his end is a little distorted, probably from the loud music from where he’s at. That after-game party, most likely. He texted you about it awhile ago. Nayeon is probably there, too.
“Hi, pretty girl.”
Again with the nickname and the slight way his eyes are hooded as he said it. If you squint enough, maybe you could tell if he’s drunk or not. You’re not sure. But the way that’s his instant words upon seeing you is making you feel a little weird in your stomach. He’s got to stop calling you that.
“Are you drunk-calling me right now…?"
He shakes his head and says something, but you don’t hear it, so you informed him so. The screen shows you dark, pixelated images, making you think he’s probably moving his camera around, and you could make out that he’s walking away from the party as the loud music fades out eventually.
"I’m not drunk.” He says after he settles on a spot.
“Oh, okay.” You nod. You shifted on your side. “Why did you call me?"
He laughs at that. "I can’t call you?"
His laughter intensifies when he sees you roll your eyes. "No. I’m just wondering… aren’t you at a party?"
Jungkook nods his head. "Yes, but it’s getting boring here."
"Oh.”
Another beat of silence, but Jungkook is the one to say another word.
“Hey, do you wanna go out for a drive?"
Well… that sounds good. You just finished a write-up and did some studying a little earlier and you also planned to order food but forgot about it.
"Sure.”
Jungkook smiles at that.
“I’ve been wanting to show you something. I think you’ll like it."
Your eyebrow arched at that. This is getting a little too new. He’s driven you around before but it always involved fucking, not done with the intention to show you something. Not that you aren’t expecting sex tonight, though. You would actually appreciate that.
"What is it?"
You could make out a smirk from Jungkook’s face on the slightly pixelated screen. "I’m going to show you the real me.” The glint of mischief in his tone cracks you up, so you played right into it,
“Ohhh, does it involve dead bodies?"
He nods with a serious face. "Yes, but you have to promise me you won’t freak out."
"Yeah, and don’t you freak out if I tell the police about it.” You squint your eyes, trying to give him a scolding look.
“Ah,” Jungkook leans back. “You would do that, wouldn’t you? You’re always such a good girl."
It wouldn’t have meant anything if it wasn’t for the way his voice drops, giving you a meaningful look again. You could feel the heat in your cheeks but you shrug it off.
"I am a good girl, I pride myself for it."
Jungkook finally laughs this time, finding this conversation hilarious just as you do. "I know, I like it most especially—"
After all this time, you developed a sort of a Spidey sense for when Jungkook is about to say perverted things, so before he could make such remarks, you cut him off.
"If you’re gonna say something sexual I’m going to end this call.” But even you could tell it was an empty threat.
Jungkook thinks so, too, you know that, but he decides to step back. “I was just going to say that I like it most especially because it does good to the world."
The mirth in his eyes tells you otherwise.
"You do not think that.” You say, rolling your eyes.
He laughs once more, throwing his head back as if you said the funniest joke in the world. Weirdo.
“Alright, alright. So I’m coming to your place in five minutes to pick you up. How does that sound?"
"Good. Nayeon’s currently out… just text me if you get here."
He told you to end the call – which you argued you were just planning to do so and he didn’t need to tell you and it earned a laugh from him, how stubborn you were about such simple things. You just gave him a baleful look.
Just as you pick out a sweatshirt and some sweats in exchange for your pajama dress, you receive a text from Jungkook that he’s arrived and so you grab your wallet and keys and your phone, heading out.
You spot his car and knock on the passenger’s seat window and Jungkook immediately opens it for you.
"Hi, gorgeous.” He greets you. “You want to keep the window open?"
"Hello. Yes, please.” You say, fixing your seat belt.
He hums and you press on a button to slide the window open.
“You want to pick up some food?"
You perked up. "Yeah, I was planning to get some but I was too lazy to order in earlier."
Jungkook pressed some buttons again you don’t really understand but it got music to start playing, lights in the car moving into the same beat of the tune (his car was really fancy…). Some mellow ones you kind of liked during this drive on a cold night. He saw a food place from around a corner and you both agreed to get food from the shop.
He parked somewhere for you guys to open up the take-out. There’s some steamed tofu there so you pick it up and start eating.
"I’ve been obsessed with tofu these days,” you shared absentmindedly, chewing on said food.
Jungkook looks at the tofu you were eating. “Really? I remember when you said you dislike it."
"Yeah, but that’s because I cooked it one time and it sucked."
"I should teach you to cook one of these days…” you refused to acknowledge what that entails and laughed instead.
“You know how?” You said to tease, but you also genuinely can’t believe he knows how.
Jungkook clicks his tongue, a faux offended look on his face, saying, “Why do I always get that reaction? Of course I know how to cook."
"Huh,” you pondered. “Wouldn’t have expected it from you."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. But I have this friend who’s a really good cook and I kinda learned through him."
"That’s cute. Nayeon knows how to cook and I never learned shit from it.” You laugh at your own words, so does Jungkook. “But hey,"
"Hm?"
"Do you think my boobs got bigger? I think they got bigger.” You put your food down your lap and caress your breasts through your clothes.
You’ve been thinking about it since last week. Earlier, you saw yourself naked in your mirror and noticed a change in their size. You almost thought you were pregnant but your period literally just ended yesterday. But can that happen with pregnancies? But… you’re very diligent with your pills… so it can’t be. Right?
You made a mental note to buy a test tomorrow.
“Look the same to me.” Jungkook says, looking at your chest.
You grab his free hand and put it over a boob. He squeezes it promptly, and you hear an almost dramatic gasp.
“Oh, they are bigger."
You remove his hand over you and nod. "Yeah. But I think it’s just due to some hormonal changes. Also I think I’m putting on weight, I’ve been eating a lot these days… but… it’s stupid but I also think my obsession with tofu has something to do with it,"
Jungkook looks over at you curiously.
"Yeah, they say tofu makes your boobs bigger." You added.
He arches a brow at that. "Really?"
"Don’t look so excited."
Jungkook can’t help but huff out a laugh. "I do not!” You roll your eyes. He insists, “I love your boobs the way they are."
"Geez, thanks."
You finished your food and Jungkook drove around again. It’s still in the vicinity of your town. The music in his car serves as a lulling noise in the otherwise quiet night. There’s still a lot of cars on the streets, some occasional honking sounds, but you feel really, really nice, most especially when the wind blows a little harsher and it makes your hair go crazy. Jungkook laughs at that too.
It’s later in the night when Jungkook slowed down somewhere, and soon, he was parking at an abandoned house.
As if on cue, you looked at him and said, "So you really are going to show me your literal skeletons."
He laughed at that.
"Nope, sorry to disappoint, princess."
Jungkook gets out of the car and you follow, immediately shivering at the wind. You wished you wore a hoodie instead of this thin, knitted sweatshirt, but you didn’t expect it would be this cold. It was nearing summer and the weather has been inconsistent for the last month.
You look at the abandoned house once again. There were wooden planks nailed on the door, plastic covers draped over the windows, and overall, it just looks really old. Kind of creepy, if you were to be honest.
In your assessment of the house, you don’t notice Jungkook coming to you with two bottles of soju. He brings them up slightly, a grin on his face.
"Drinks?”
“Okay…” you squint your eyes. “Where are we going to do that?"
He gives you a knowing smirk. "Inside."
Jungkook went over the fence with ease and you followed his direction but didn’t do the same thing. He looks back at you. "Hey."
"Are you sure it’s safe?” You ask, looking around, wrapping your arms around your middle because of the cold.
Jungkook probably notes the genuine concern in your tone, that’s why he sets the soju down and comes forward to you, the fence serving as some kind of dramatic border.
“Baby, it’s fine. No one comes around here.” He says but you don’t really feel assured just yet.
“What if someone comes here now? I don’t want to be arrested…"
"No one’s getting arrested,” Jungkook insists. You still look hesitant. “Come on. Really. I’ve been here lotta times, haven’t ever seen anyone here since then."
You look at him. He seems to be telling that truth and well, maybe you’re stupid for believing him but he seemed to know this place well and had been going here for a long time and as far as you know, he doesn’t have criminal records, so…
"Okay, fine.” You give in.
Jungkook immediately grins. “Nice. Here, let me help you.” He leans forward and takes a hold of your hips as you go over the fence. It’s not that high, really, but you let him carry you over it until you both entered the abandoned property.
When he puts you down, you tug at his shirt.
“Wait, your car.” you gasp.
“Oh, it’s fine. I parked it at that green house, someone’s just gonna assume it’s theirs.” He says, completely nonchalant about it.
You think he’s being careless about his fucking Benz but whatever.
Jungkook leads you to the back of the creepy house and the eerie place immediately gives you goosebumps. The cold of the night does not help, either, so you cling to him until he sits on the ground.
“Jungkook, that’s dirty.” You tell him, trying to tug him up.
He chuckles. “It’s fine, princess. Come here, I’ll take my jacket off. Sit beside me.” Indeed, he takes off his jacket, and you worry he might be cold with his t-shirt only now but you also really don’t want to sit on the ground…
“You’re not cold?” You make sure as you sit beside him. Jungkook opens one of the soju and offers it to you. You take it as he opens another one for himself.
“Nah, it’s fine.” Jungkook starts drinking but even though you have one in your hand, you don’t. He must’ve noticed it as he says, “Hey. Relax.”
“Aside from my fear of getting arrested, it’s also really fucking creepy here.” You retort, scooting closer to him. You got to be honest and admit that you’re more scared of the place than scared of getting arrested.
Jungkook throws his head back to laugh at that. “Again, we’re not getting arrested. And what do you mean creepy? You don’t like it here?"
You look around the place more. "Eh, it’s okay. I just can’t help but think what if there are lost souls around here…” you trailed off, giving him a baleful look when that only made him laugh more. They were quiet laughter, though. Probably to not disrupt said souls.
“You believe those?"
You roll your eyes. "Okay, cool macho guy."
"No, no, I’m sorry,” Jungkook still laughs in between his words and you whisked his hand away in an act of lighthearted sulking when it tried to reach you.
Okay. You don’t exactly believe in ghosts but it’s hard not to when it’s in the middle of the night and quiet and cold and you’re in an abandoned house. You avoid horror movies for a valid reason.
“Alright, let’s cuddle so you don’t get scared.” Jungkook says, but there’s a teasing sound to it.
“Don’t make fun.” You glared at him.
“I’m serious, come here.” He opens his arms wide and you roll your eyes, not moving to come closer. He laughs when even after seconds passed you still didn’t give in. You thought he was giving up but instead he twisted to your direction and let both his legs crowd you so that you’re in between them.
“You’re annoying,” you say but you kind of feel oddly comforted by being close to him like that, and Jungkook must’ve known as well because he just gives you a smug smile, chugging on his soju after.
You did the same. You try to throw away your nerves and scary thoughts, letting yourself relax as he said. When you kind of did a moment later, you find that it’s kind of nice, actually.
“What do you think?” Jungkook suddenly speaks.
“Hm?"
"It’s nice here, right?” He arched his brow at you. “Just try not to think about ghosts."
You pinch his shin through his cargo pants and he gives you a very ingenuine, "Ouch!"
"Except for the ugly house, it’s nice here.” You reply. As you look up, you see stars scattered across the dark skies. It was quite a view, honestly. Makes you a little surprised because it was so beautiful. You almost missed Jungkook’s words.
“Yeah. It’s not exactly beautiful here but it’s a great place to think."
"Think?"
Jungkook sees your teasing smile and shakes his head. "Yes, baby, I do a lot of those."
You chuckle at that and drink more of your alcohol.
You don’t exchange more words after that but you find that it wasn’t awkward. It was just… a nice silence. A comfortable one. With Jungkook crowding you with his legs, you feel like you might be the most relaxed you’ve ever been in the past few months.
You twist yourself so now you’re not facing forward anymore, but to Jungkook. You realize if he’d been looking forward he just had a view of your side profile. You try not to think too much if he just stared at you, although you did feel him do that for a few minutes a while ago.
"Hey, congrats on the game.” You tell him with a soft smile on your face, placing your drink on the ground. It’s still filled in half. You could finish it but you doubt you wouldn’t be drunk by that time. Your alcohol tolerance is not at all exemplary.
“Thanks.” Jungkook sheepishly smiles at you. “You watched it?"
"Ah, no. I just heard about it. I don’t really know anything about basketball so…” you trail off, noting the way he nods at your words.
“Right. I’ve never seen you watch us before.”
You try to joke, “That’s because you never invite me to any of your games."
But it looks like that caught him off guard. "I– huh?” The look on his eyes tells you that he was genuinely surprised at your words, those eyes of him looking like a deer’s when it’s caught in the headlights.
You laugh. “I’m just kidding. I don’t usually watch sports games. Too crowded for my liking."
Jungkook nodded at that, but he still looked taken aback from your words earlier. You really were just kidding. You hope he didn’t take it seriously. But he agrees with you, anyway. "Yeah, it can get crowded sometimes."
Silence and then after a few beats, Jungkook speaks again.
"Hey, let’s make out."
You arched a brow but didn’t really find any reason to oppose it, so you went ahead and kissed him.
Jungkook immediately holds your hips. On the other hand, you snake your arms around his neck, kneeling in between his spread legs. The kiss starts slow but he holds the back of your neck and deepens it.
You whimpered when he nudged your legs with his free hand, and your shock made you break away from the kiss. Jungkook took it as an opportunity to start pecking your neck, though, his hand seemingly coaxing you to open your legs. You got the message and finally straddled his waist, Jungkook groaning and you moaning when you feel your crotches connecting at the action.
He was already sporting a semi, and you also feel your panties getting slick from the way he kissed and bit and licked and soothed your neck.
"Jungkook,” you moaned, searching for his mouth.
He kissed you again, all tongue and so sloppy, his hand reaching for the hem of your sweatshirt and creeping inside it to find you not wearing a bra. He did think you weren't wearing one when you put his hand on your boob in the car earlier.
“Ah, fuck,” he squeezed your tit in his hand, you whine. “They really are bigger. Can I see them, baby?"
You nodded, not even giving it a solid thought as Jungkook immediately hiked up your top until your perky breasts were all bare for him to see.
And devour, eventually.
Jungkook went straight to sucking your boob and squeezing the other to tend to it, massaging it in his huge palm. He licked a nipple and bit at it slightly, making you sigh at his action. Your arms went to his head to fist his hair in your hands.
His ministrations on your chest encouraged you to roll your hips against his pelvis, and that elicited a grunt from him. Smiling a little at that, you experimented on doing it a little harder, and as a result, Jungkook tugged at your nipple, making you whine a little too loud.
"Behave."
You pout. "I want to fuck."
"It’s not so creepy here anymore?” He had the audacity to tease, but his hands were still on your breasts, fondling them.
“I didn’t say we can fuck here. Just…” you looked around, not really specifically looking for something.
Now that Jungkook mentioned it again, you get reminded that it really is creepy as fuck here. And you still didn’t trust the ground. There was no way you could stand fucking in this property. And what if something scary happens while you’re in the middle of doing it…
Just as you were thinking it, a strange sound catches both of your attention.
“I think we should get back in your car.” You decided.
Probably seeing the flash of fear in your eyes, Jungkook laughs. “Are you thinking of ghosts again?"
You slap his chest. "No. But I want to cum."
"So demanding,” he playfully scolds but you just roll your eyes and let your sweatshirt fall to cover you up once again. You immediately cling to him the moment he stands up and help him pick up the soju bottles, anxiously praying you guys hurry up to get out of here.
“It was just the wind.” Jungkook comforts you once you were on your way to his car.
As far as you’re concerned, it’s never just the wind. At least those shitty horror movies you and your cousins watched during sleepovers tell you so.
Jungkook opens the door to the backseat and you go in and he follows after you.
You immediately straddle him once he’s seated, earning a chuckle from him.
“Wow, you’re really eager for me to fuck the fear out of you, huh?” He says, sounding smug about the way you reach for the hem of your shirt and removing it from yourself.
“Hm. Your dirty talk these days have been subpar.” you slide his jacket off of him and he lets you remove his shirt as well, laughing more at your impatience.
“Can’t think straight when a pretty girl is on my lap."
Before you could say something about that, he gripped your waist and got you off his lap, manhandling you to lay on the backseat. Your back is against the car door as Jungkook twisted in his seat, hauling himself backwards to pull your sweats down and take off your birkens. Leaning down, Jungkook pressed open-mouthed kisses up your thighs, teasing his mouth on where you need him the most.
But you didn’t want to feel anything there other than his cock, and you tell him so.
"Jungkook,” you whine, catching his attention. When he looks up at you, you whine some more, “Just fuck me. I’m so wet already."
He cursed, caressing the sides of your thighs. "Baby, I need to prep you.”
“There’s no need for that, come on, please. I need your cock."
Jungkook groans. But then he makes quick work of unzipping his pants, pulling it down with his boxers until his dick is out. It’s plenty hard already, the shiny tip catching your attention.
You let out another cry at the sight of him gripping his base, pumping it for a few seconds and finally pushing your panties to the side and slipped inside you. True to your words, it was quite an easy slide, but the burn still stings a little bit. His size was on the little above average spectrum and you’ve always found a hard time taking it in smoothly.
"Oh, god,” you mewl, grasping his bicep while your other hand grips the back seat.
Jungkook tightened his fingers on your waist, a hand coming up to one of your thighs to wrap it around his middle. You follow his silent command, welcoming the hot kiss he gives you.
“Should I move now?” He whispers in your mouth, and you nod frantically, throwing your head back with a moan when he does as told.
His cock was not even pulled out completely before he slipped it in again, slowly, in agonizing deep strokes. Like he wants to feel every corner of your warm hole.
“So good…” you moaned, tightening your thigh around his body.
“You like when I fuck you slow, baby?” Jungkook pressed kisses on your chest this time, and you could only nod your head mindlessly as he repeated thrusting out again.
“I – ah… so good, Kook. I love it,"
The car is cramped and all you could hear are your heavy breaths and the lewd squelching sound of his cock going in and out of your pussy, his chain dangling in between your bodies feels cold when it momentarily touches your chest.
You would tell him to go faster, harder, but the way he was planting fairy kisses on your skin and his tattooed arm popping veins on the side of your head as if he was finding it hard to not fuck you stupid, you found that his deep and precise albeit slow strokes great.
"So pretty,” he says, moving the strands of hair that stuck everywhere on your face.
“K-kook,” you whimper.
“Hm? Baby? What is it?” Jungkook looks at you with an uncharacteristically soft gaze, his dick still continuing its slow pace in your cunt.
“M-my back hurts like this,” you say.
His eyes look softer at your words, expression gentle. “Sorry, angel.” He caresses your face and kisses you which you welcomed with a sob when his dick hits deeper after he leaned down. “Here, I’ll sit here. Straddle me.” But he doesn’t even wait for you to move as he hauls you to his lap himself, his cock still inside you, feeling it twitching when you sit on it outright.
“Good girl,” Jungkook squeezes your breasts and laps at them, only to look up at you again. “You okay?"
You nod, pushing him slightly so that he relaxes his back against the seat. You brace yourself on his chest and begin to bounce on his cock.
Jungkook throws his head back, letting you on your own pace, hands gripping your hips to help you move.
"So fucking good for me,” he hissed just as when you mewled when his cock hits a particular spot in you. “Take it easy, baby, nice and slow, okay?” He said, taking a hold on the back of your head and pulling you in for a slow kiss.
You followed his words and planted your knees on either side of him, going down steadily, crying out at the way you feel every ridge of his huge cock inside you like this.
It was so pleasurable, the way he groaned in your ears, squeezing your breasts, tugging at your sensitive nipples, murmuring stupid, sweet nothings, his cock seemingly growing larger in your heat each second passed, and soon, you feel that knot in your stomach ready to burst.
“I-I’m cumming, Kook, I’m cumming–"
Jungkook hummed, and when he felt your movements stuttering, he took it upon himself to press his thumb to your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves and fucking his dick up into you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your orgasm snap.
"So good for me, baby, fuck, you’re such a good girl for me.” He kept rubbing delicious shapes on your clit, and you had to bite back a pathetic sob as the pleasure started to become too much.
But he was still chasing his high, and you leaned forward to kiss him through it, letting him do whatever he wanted to get himself there.
And when he did cum, you feel yourself cumming a second time too, Jungkook letting out strings of curses and nonsense as he feels you dripping more juices down onto his cock.
Your head falls on the crook of his neck, Jungkook caressing your back as he relaxes on the seat.
For a while, words were not spoken. He kept kissing your hair while you felt him twitching in your pussy.
“I’m so tired,” you wearily peeled your face from his neck, looking at him. He has his eyes shut close, but there’s a content smile on his face that you leaned down to kiss. You didn’t know what for, you just felt like kissing him.
Jungkook hums. The mess in your crotch starts to feel sticky and cold and uncomfortable.
“Let’s stay like this for a while.” He says, as if he could read that you were about to get off his lap.
You chuckle. “I can literally feel you going soft."
"Ignore my dick. I wanna feel you a little more."
"Okay."
Jungkook does an unexpected thing of kissing your forehead. You choose to ignore the weird tingling feeling in your stomach and the way your cheeks feel hot at the action, just let him slip his fingers through your hair and rest your cheek on his naked chest.
You eventually got off of each other after a few minutes, and you both were quiet as you dressed yourselves back. Jungkook and you got out of his car so he could drive and you could enter the passenger’s seat.
The drive to your place was quiet but the silence was nice and comfortable, just like when you were at the back of that creepy old house. Jungkook occasionally sang along to some of the songs playing from a random playlist he pulled up on Spotify, and his voice sounded kind of nice. You wanted to say something about it but decided not to, in slight fear that he would stop.
When he pulled over in front of your complex, there was a soft, gentle smile on his face when he told you, "Sweet dreams."
Your face mirrored his as you wished him good night.
You locked the door to your apartment, ignoring the strange feeling in your stomach.
You found yourselves at that abandoned house again the next night and Jungkook forewent the booze and brought junk food from Wendy’s. You had a swell time just sitting with each other at the back of the house, talking about the most random things you could talk about like some silly childhood memories. You almost shared your joy upon finding out that you weren’t actually pregnant after taking the test earlier that day just like you said you would the other night, but you found it better to keep that to yourself.
Additionally, you ranted to him about Professor Kang for giving you a C+ on a project you thought you deserved a higher grade for. Jungkook showed blind support by roasting your professor’s haircut. You didn’t fuck that night but did it the next night after a few drinks.
When the day of their second game of Finals hit, your Uni won again and Jungkook ditched the after-game party, picking you up and driving you to that place. Almost like it became tradition.
This time, you think you went overboard with the drinks, but it was probably just your shitty alcohol tolerance because Jungkook was standing still with his third bottle – which you childishly argued was unfair.
Jungkook carried you like a sack of potatoes on your way to his car, ignoring how you slapped his ass. But you were all giggles and hushed whispers in the backseat as Jungkook guided your hips, bouncing you on his cock, just like the other night.
"How does it feel, baby?” Jungkook whispered against your mouth while you gripped his shoulders hard to slide up and down his cock, the tops of your feet resting on his thighs.
“S-so good,” you whimpered, speeding up, feeling yourself getting close to your edge.
Jungkook tightened his hands on your waist but didn’t really do anything to control your movements or pace like he usually would. Like he was just enjoying you on top of him, using his cock to get off.
You leaned down to kiss him, your moan upon feeling him deeper getting swallowed by the way he immediately reciprocated your touch.
You opened your eyes but then you suddenly caught a glimpse of a car. You pulled away from the kiss, but Jungkook took it as an opportunity to kiss your neck instead. While he was busy lapping up your skin, you narrowed your eyes to see clearer, only to realize that the car you saw was a fucking police cruiser.
“Jungkook,” you called him, stopping your movements on his lap.
“Baby,” Jungkook’s voice nearly sounded like a whine, understandably confused at your action– or lack thereof.
But you only tapped his shoulder a little harder.
“There’s a damn cruiser in front of us."
Well, it wasn’t actually in front of you. It was more like, parked across from you, beside that abandoned house.
Jungkook seemed to realize your panic though. His car wasn’t lit because you immediately got into it the moment he put you in the backseat. It was a little inconvenient especially when you were slipping him in but it turned to be a blessing in disguise because whoever owned that cruiser wouldn't have noticed what you were doing in his car.
"Shit."
You hastily climbed off of him, quickly finding your shorts on the floor of the car and sliding it on while seated. Meanwhile, Jungkook just tucked his dick in his boxers and zipped up his pants. It was pure luck that you didn’t completely strip each other off earlier because it made for a fast dress up.
"Wait.” Jungkook leaned over the center part of the car and stayed a few seconds hunched over the console. You were just about to ask him what he was doing when the passenger’s seat suddenly reclined back.
“Oh."
"We can climb over here so that we don’t have to go out and have a cop seeing us. It would be suspicious.” He suggested, and you quickly nodded and did what he told you with a little bit of his help.
Jungkook pressed a button once again that had the driver’s seat this time leaning back, just like yours did. He climbed over it just as fast, putting on his seatbelt that you remember you needed to do as well so you followed.
He lit on the car and started the engine. But before he could drive, a knock on his window made you both look at it.
“Fuck.”
You held your breath as you watched his window slowly sliding down, revealing a police decked in his uniform hunching down to see the inside of the car.
“Evening, officer.” Jungkook greets casually. You didn’t know what to do. You reached for the phone in your pocket and turn it on, ducking down as much as you could so as to hide your face, trying to seem busy and casual.
“Oh, it’s just some kids, Hwang,” The cop turned to the side, and that’s when you heard another set of footsteps coming towards you. “You kids live here?"
"Yeah. It’s my parents’ house, I’m just about to drive my girlfriend home.” Jungkook answered, referring to the green house he parked at, not a hint of hesitation or even an ounce of nervousness in his demeanor.
You were too frozen to react to the way he called you his girlfriend.
The other cop nodded. “Apologies. We were just roaming. Be careful, kid, you got a sleek car. There’s some thief on the loose around the street."
Jungkook nodded as well, even did a little salute as he said, "You got it, sir."
The cop patted the top of his car and Jungkook bid them a final goodbye before closing his window again and driving away.
You felt like your soul just went right back inside you after it got out for a moment there.
"Holy shit, that was the craziest thing I’ve ever done.”
“Really?”
“Yes!”
And then suddenly, you giggled. Actually, like, giggled. Because realizing what just happened, you found every single thing fucking hilarious. You got away from cops!
“Oh my god, Jungkook. That was insane!” You said in between your laughter.
Jungkook looked over at you before training his attention to the road and finally laughing with you, seemingly finding what happened just as hilarious. “Yeah. It was, it was.”
“And they really believed you! I can’t believe it,” you covered your face with both of your hands, your belly starting to hurt with how much you found the whole thing incredulous that it was funny.
“It’s not like we did anything wrong…” Jungkook said but he had a hint of playful tone when he spoke the words.
You snorted. “Well, in between public indecency and trespassing, which do you think they would most likely arrest us for?"
That got Jungkook to laugh again.
During the ride to your place, you complained about feeling too cold at one point. Jungkook asked if you wanted him to turn the A/C down but you shook your head and so he offered his jacket instead because you only wore a shirt. In your defense, when he picked you up, the weather was humid even though it was late at night.
You didn’t stop talking and laughing about what happened earlier, though. You found it hard to let go of it just like that.
"You are so drunk,” Jungkook chuckled as he pulled over. “You’re going to regret it tomorrow."
"It’s Saturday tom–” you cut yourself off with a yawn.
“You’re cute when you’re drunk.” Jungkook commented, pulling over, indicating that you were near your apartment. You didn’t even notice.
“Not drunk, just tipsy.” You said, starting to unbuckle your seat belt but you kept on failing. Your tipsiness was starting to kick in again and everything was a little too hazy in your head.
You still definitely are aware about your surroundings, so aware that you felt Jungkook hunching over your side to unbuckle your seat belt for you, so close that you felt his breath fanning your face.
“Thanks.” You smiled, he returned it.
You opened the door yourself this time, though, and was only a little surprised to see Jungkook getting out of his car too.
“Let me walk you to your door."
And honestly, you should be worried about the possibility of Nayeon being at the apartment and seeing you together, but you couldn’t really bring yourself to care when all you could feel was odd content in feeling Jungkook’s presence as you walked towards your place.
It was quiet but it was comfortable. You noticed how it’s always been like that with him, especially these days.
When you reached your door, you turned to Jungkook who was a little behind you, probably slowed his steps when you neared your place.
“Thanks for walking me."
"No biggies,” Jungkook grins and then he stares at you for a while.
“What?” You asked.
He leans down, holds your hip and presses his mouth against your own.
Surprisingly, you didn’t really make a big deal out of it in your head when you were supposed to because this has never happened before: Jungkook walking you to your door and kissing you before he leaves has never occurred before.
And yet, it felt so normal. Like it was just something that happens on the daily. Like you were so used to feeling his casual and soft kisses instead of the passionate and hard ones that often led to something.
“See you next week?"
You nod, biting your lip as he lets you go. "Yeah."
Jungkook gives you a one, last small smile before he turns around and goes to his car, entering it and driving away from your complex.
What a crazy night.
You did not want to admit it, but maybe the strange feeling in your stomach the other night was goddamn butterflies.
You really weren’t supposed to come with.
But Juyeon, your editor in chief, told you to accompany Ryujin as she goes to interview the basketball team for their second win at the Finals season today. Your responsibility told you that it was fine, which, really is fine because you were used to monitoring freshmen in the club and that was actually one of your official jobs as the managing director but!
You were basically gonna do a babysitting job because Ryujin apparently fucked a guy from the team after she interviewed them the first time and it resulted to a poor article, and as a result, Juyeon is afraid she’s gonna fuck up her future write-ups so you’re the collateral damage of the whole situation.
Juyeon didn’t tell you that herself, though. Keeping things professional and decent. You heard it from the other members of the club.
Right now, you have to be at the gymnasium to meet people you’ve never really bothered meeting before and have always avoided for obvious reasons.
But it was fine.
You checked Ryujin’s questions on the way there and when you arrived, she immediately tried to spot the team’s coach to talk to him about the interview she was gonna conduct.
Instantly, you felt a prickling sensation on your arms and the back of your neck as the varsity players stopped on their tracks to look at the newcomers. At this hour, you can see no one at the gym seats. You and Ryujin were the only civilians and they noticed that immediately.
It’s as if you couldn’t help it, but you spotted Jungkook on one of the benches drinking water. As if on cue, he met your gaze, and you could see the little surprise he had on his face seeing you. However, you quickly looked away and walked towards where the coach and Ryujin were.
"I’m here with our managing director, too. She’s here to help me with the interview.” Ryujin told the coach, all smiles.
“Good day, sir.” You greeted him. He nodded at you in acknowledgement and turned to look at his team.
“Alright,” The coach loudly said, which got the players to transfix their attention to him instead. You tried not to notice Jungkook looking at you as he walked towards your direction, the other members doing the same. Coach stood straight and elaborated, “The school’s publication is here to interview you about the previous game you’ve had. Practice ends here–” he was cut off by the collective loud cheers from the guys. He shook his head. “But put on your best behavior."
"Guaranteed, coach.” Someone said but you saw how he sent a wink to Ryujin’s way.
Jesus Christ, where even was the subtlety? It was such a boy-ish thing to do. If you could, you would roll your eyes. Wait – was it the guy she fucked on that interview? Ugh. You couldn’t really bring yourself to care. It was her sex life… just maybe she shouldn’t mix it with her journalism activities…
“Careful, Kang. I’m gonna make you do ten laps if you don’t give these writers some good material,” The coach warned and some of them snorted. He then turned to both of you and Ryujin. “These guys are very rowdy but you guys will be fine."
You try to smile at him as he bids his goodbye and leaves the gym. Taejun, the senior sports journalist had already interviewed him so Ryujin only had to do it with the players themselves so they could collaborate on the article.
Ryujin enthusiastically greeted the team and introduced herself, as well as you. You offered them a small smile and was only a little taken aback when Taehyung chirped your name.
"Hi, Taehyung.” you return his greeting.
He grins at you.
Ryujin looks at you immediately. “Oh, you know someone here?"
Yeah, technically you knew of some people here. You knew Taehyung though, and you knew Jungkook. But you chose to just nod instead of saying anything.
Ryujin lets out a happy noise. "That’s so cool!"
Yeah…
"Hey, surprised to see you here,” Taehyung walked up to you. “I thought you weren’t in the sports section?”
You were surprised to know that Taehyung even remembers what you told him a long time ago. You got to know each other that much during the time you were constantly talking.
“Well, yes. Ryujin is a freshman, though. I take care of them sometimes, you can say.” You replied.
Taehyung nodded in understanding. “You’re gonna be here for a while?"
"We’ll see. But I think the interview will be a quick one."
Someone from the team called Taehyung and he looked at you apologetically. You nodded with a smile.
"We always seem so busy whenever we see each other,” Taehyung shakes his head with a laugh. You find that quite funny too. “Hey, do you wanna catch up? Get some coffee around."
"Oh, yeah, sure. But I bet your sched is crazy these days.” you said, alluding to their constant practices for Finals season.
“Nah, I can make time. Unless you have a crazy sched too?” He gave you a playful smile.
You cocked your head to the side, squinting your eyes at him. “Not all of us are trying to get our school a big trophy."
Taehyung laughed at that and his teammates called for him again, this time it was Jungkook. You both looked at him. He had a strange look on his face but you shrugged it off.
"Well, I better get going. Ryujin’s starting.” He said and pointed back with his thumb.
The boys were kind of rowdy in the start, but they eventually scattered around the benches doing their own thing as Ryujin talked to them individually, especially the ones who usually play in court.
You offered to take some of your own notes, too, were kind of bothered that you didn’t really understand some of the terms used and that this was very unusual territory for you to get a material at for writing an article. You never really dabbled on sports writing.
Eventually, you felt your bladder looking for relief so you told Ryujin that you would be back in a minute.
It was a little difficult to find the comfort room but you did see it in the far corner of the hallway, a few steps away from the gymnasium.
You were washing your hands on the communal sink after peeing when the door suddenly opened, revealing Jungkook in his jersey.
Hand clutching your chest, you looked at him with a scandalized expression.
“Jesus,” you squint your eyes. “Why are you here?”
Jungkook closes the door and saunters towards the room. “No greetings or anything?"
You give him an eyeroll and come back to washing your hands as soon as you get over the initial shock of seeing him.
You simply shrug.
In a second, Jungkook was beside you.
"We haven’t seen each other in a while,” he said, giving you a playful nudge.
You whisk your hands, ridding the wetness out of your hands.
“It’s only been three days."
You see him smile at you through the mirror, and he has that soft look again on his face. You get reminded of your last night together. When he kissed you good night as he dropped you home.
"I was surprised to see you there,” Jungkook says, turning around and leaning back on the counter.
You think he’s referring to seeing you at the gym and that makes you chuckle. Why was everyone surprised to see you at the gym? “Why, you think you guys own the gym or something?"
Jungkook found your sass amusing, though.
"Come on, you know what I mean."
You playfully narrowed your eyes at him but ended up laughing for no reason other than he also laughed.
"Eh, duty calls. Our EIC had me accompany Ryujin, so...” you see Jungkook nodding. You swerve the topic to the next one. “Your big game starts in, like, five days from now.” You mirror his stance and also lean back on the counter.
Jungkook watched as you did so. “Yeah.”
His eyes are trained on yours, and you hold a weird, intense stare until he finally peels himself off from the counter and walks to you. You’re surprised that you’ve never thought about him in his jersey but you were able to see him earlier like this before and right now, in your close up view, damn. He looked good. Especially with his tattoos all out like that. You really like them. They looked pretty.
“It’s probably gonna be the last game,” you said, referring to the fact that they’ve won the last two games and if they win this one, it would be the concluding point of the Finals season. “You’re going to make the Uni proud?” You arched a brow at him.
He shrugged. And finally, he crossed the small distance between you and held your hips. You think you unintentionally let out a happy hum at the contact. You’ve been wanting him to touch you as soon as you saw him earlier. For some weird reason.
“Sure, but only if you’re there for me to give me my personal reward,” The lewd undertone was not lost on you and it made you giggle. Somehow, he’d gotten even closer, fingers caressing your hips in soothing circles. “You look good, by the way. This skirt is new?"
It is new. You try not to think too much about what it says about you that you kind of thought of him when you placed the order a week ago. It was just a blip of thought, anyway. You swear.
"Yes. And you’re kinda sweaty,” He really is. But it doesn’t stop you from looping your arms around his neck and Jungkook is only visibly satisfied at the close proximity.
“Hard at work,” he leans down, but he only nudges your nose. “Can I see your panties?"
You would have scolded yourself for giggling like a school girl at that question, but Jungkook must’ve realized how stupid that sounded too as he laughed together with you.
"I don’t know, you’re gonna have to do it yourself. I think.” You whispered, playing into the joke.
You saw his smirk before he finally closed the hairsbreadth gap between you and touched your mouth against his. He prodded at the seam of your lips with his tongue and you let him access, his tongue swirling with your own as you shared a rather passionate kiss in the sink.
There was a string of saliva between your mouths when he broke free.
“God, I missed your taste.”
It was his last words before he dove in again, kissing you way deeper now, more frantic as well, as he started getting handsy. At some point, his hands on your hips lifted you up until you were seated on the counter, Jungkook kissing you like it hasn’t only been three days since he had you like this. He squeezed your bare thighs that got you whimpering, your hips, waist. Up, up, and up until he was copping a feel on your boobs through your clothes.
He was kissing your neck when you suddenly felt him untucking your shirt from your skirt.
“Wait, no,” You tried to get your head out of your previous headspace and took a hold of his wrists.
“No?” Jungkook stops, looking at you curiously, lips plump, hair a little wild. And with his stupid basketball uniform, it was extremely hard to discourage his advances.
But…
“Someone might come in,” you say with genuine worry in your voice, pushing him away slightly.
“There’s not really a lot of people who come to this bathroom,” he tells you. Which, you think, kind of makes sense. Him and his teammates have their locker rooms and their own comfort room that was an extension of the gym (which you pointedly didn’t go to for obvious reasons) and this part of the campus was a little quiet.
But then again, you did tell Ryujin you would be back in a minute. And it would be quite ironic if Juyeon told you to monitor her because she fucked someone in the team while you go ahead and fail to do that job because you were fooling around with another someone from the same team.
Jesus. That’s enough crisis for today.
“Ryujin’s probably going to interview you soon,” you said, tucking your shirt back into your skirt.
You jump slightly to step on the floor, turning around to fix your hair, seeing Jungkook stepping back through the mirror. “Why did you leave the gym, by the way?"
Jungkook invades your personal space again and presses himself to your back. "I got excited when I saw you…” he whispers in your ear and your whimper betrays your resistance from literally a few seconds ago as you feel something hard on your ass.
But at the same time, you look at him incredulously through the mirror. He just shrugs as he sees it, gripping your hips again and burrowing his face on the crook of your neck.
“Kook,” you whine.
Jungkook chuckled and before you can do something stupid like give in to his touch, he leaned back and held his hands up.
“Fine, fine,” he says, still laughing when you turn around to glare at him. “Can I see you later?"
You jab at his chest lightly. "For being annoying just right now, you can’t "
His face contorts and pouts. "Aw, come on,"
You roll your eyes at his dramatic antics.
"We can’t get into anything tonight. Nayeon is staying at home and I’m nervous about her seeing your car if you pick me up,” you tell him. “Also, we can’t go to that place. That cruiser might be back again."
"Yeah, yeah,” Jungkook agrees. “We can just go together to my place after this, though? It would be late by the time your friend is finished with the interview."
You look at him funny.
He sighs. "Damn, I thought I could finally convince you to fuck at my place."
You shake your head. "Never.”
From the start, you both agreed to only fuck at your place (whenever Nayeon is not around, of course) per your request. Jungkook lives quite far from the campus, at least far compared to yours, and it was a high complex building. As far as you know, most of the big shots at school live there and he’s neighbors with Taehyung. You don’t want to risk it.
“Never is a long time..” Jungkook wiggles his brows at you and that breaks you from your thoughts.
Laughing, you push at him playfully.
“Gee. You should go. They’re probably now wondering why you’re taking so long."
"They’re probably thinking I’m taking a shit.” he shrugs. “I think I told Taehyung that before I left.”
“Oh no, is that what they’re going to think about me, too?” You gave him an animated concerned look, making your voice purposely higher in pitch.
“Wait, what? You take a shit?” Jungkook playing into the joke caused you to laugh and you punched his bicep that he just took with a grin.
When the laughter died down, Jungkook looked at you seriously.
“When can I see you again?"
"I don’t know. Sometime this week, maybe? Don’t be whiny.” You smile as you see his pout. “Hey, you really should go now."
He looked a little hesitant but he didn’t really have a choice. And you were also growing more concerned that someone from the gym might think maliciously about you and Jungkook disappearing at the same time for a long time. Hopefully, no one cared enough to think about it.
"Alright.” Jungkook says finally and starts to step out. Before he leaves, though, he asks, “Wait, are you going to the game?"
You hope Jungkook doesn’t see the surprise if it showed on your face. You didn’t expect him to ask that.
But you try to play it cool, pondering on it. It’s Wednesday, next week, and as far as you knew, there was nothing major in your schedule. You still don’t know about that, though. Maybe some of your profs would drop a big project on your heads come Monday.
It’s why you were surprised to hear yourself say, "I’ll try."
Jungkook gave you a wide grin before he left completely.
When you got back to the gym, Ryujin was already talking to him.
Jungkook looked at the door when you entered and did a poor job of hiding a smile to himself, and for what reason, you simply didn’t know. But so as you did not know the reason for why you looked too closely at him to even notice that tiny gesture.
For someone who was adamant to see you last week, Jungkook wasn’t really able to snuck in time to do so. You shared texts here and there, but he mentioned that they’ve been practicing nonstop since the past few days because they are preparing for a big game, after all. Might be the last one if they come through and win it.
Come Wednesday, the day of the third game, Jungkook texted you that he got a reserved seat for you at the venue. Your weird giddiness over that was clouded by the worry at the thought of how he managed to do that without anyone suspecting anything about your relationship. You mentally noted to tell him about it later.
When Nayeon came home after classes, she told you she got two tickets for the game if you wanted to come with. You didn’t really need tickets, though, you could just use your journalist card and they would let you in.
See, you had all these resources to go to the game but the thing is, you have a book review and another assignment due tonight and you needed to get some studying done for a test tomorrow. The game starts at 3 pm and will probably end around 6 or even later than that. It’s not that you never procrastinated in your life but you’ve learned over the years to prioritize more important things over the ones that didn’t really need urgency. And this is why you told Nayeon that you couldn’t come with her because of your packed schedule today.
But worry looms over you as you remember how excited Jungkook seemed over your texts earlier when you asked him what you should expect at the game. He told you about how it could be chaotic and noisy and crowded but it was gonna be fun and worth your while, especially if – he jokingly said – he scores a shot for you if you were to be there.
Looking back, you made it sound like you were gonna come but in your defense, you really were going to but these school activities came to you unexpectedly and you didn’t have the luxury of time to set them aside to watch a basketball game first.
And anyway, was it really a big deal if you didn’t come? You don’t think Jungkook would really mind. Maybe his texts went over your head that you thought he was excited at the prospect of you going to his game. You would tell yourself it didn’t matter, and if Jungkook was going to be shit about it (which you doubt, ‘cause he seemed casual about inviting you) then he was weird for being (hypothetically) weird about it. It wasn’t like this was normal for you both, anyway; you going to his games, that is.
So around 2 pm, you messaged him.
[2:06pm] You: Hey, I’m really sorry I can’t go to your game. Swamped with school works, but I wish you good luck :) Go break a leg but hopefully not literally!
It was hard to focus on writing your book review because you couldn’t help but be agitated as you remembered that they air these Finals games on television and you could literally just turn it on and watch it from there. But the empty document on your laptop was glaring at you, like it was daring you to watch TV instead of finishing it.
Of course, you chose to tend to the intimidating clean white MS word page instead. As if you really had a choice in the first place.
At 10 pm, your book review was mostly done and only needed a few touch-ups. You also finished your other assignment so you finally had some time to eat.
You just reheated a leftover pizza from your fridge when you received a text from Nayeon.
[10:11pm] Im Nayeonie: babe im sleeping over at a friend’s so the place is all yours for tonight. don’t forget to lock up ok
[10:11pm] You: Ok! You’ll be back tomorrow morning?
[10:14pm] Im Nayeonie: eh probably around 10am but I’ll see
You remember that she was at the game earlier. It actually slipped off your mind eventually when you got your head in too deep with finishing your assignments, but now that you’re reminded of it again, you wanted to know how it was.
[10:16pm] You: Hey how was the game?
[10:16pm] Im Nayeonie: oh my ur interested in bb now??
[10:17pm] You: Don’t tease! I just wanted to know if you had fun
[10:17pm] Im Nayeonie: ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
You snort at the ridiculous emoticon.
[10:17pm] You: What the hell does that mean?!
[10:17pm] Im Nayeonie: nothing lmaoooo
[10:18pm] Im Nayeonie: but the game was fine! it was kinda intense but our uni lost unfortunately): they had a three point difference
Oh. You usually didn’t care about any sports games that your Uni has but the news deflated you for some reason.
[10:19pm] You: Ah, thats unfortunate
You replied, finding that you didn’t really know what to say. Should you message Jungkook? But what were you going to say?
[10:19pm] Im Nayeonie: yeah it is it was supposed to be the last game 😖😖 but there’s still 2 more to go anyway im not too worried about it finals went like this last season too
[10:20pm] Im Nayeonie: but jungkook’s buzzer beater at game 4 was really insane it’s like all over on twt IK you proly won’t care about it but ill still send you a link HAHAHAH
Nayeon did send you a link and thankfully you were able to see it even though you didn’t have Twitter, but you looked up "buzzer beater” on Google first. You didn’t understand it completely but slowly did when you played the video she was talking about.
The camera was a bit shaky and the background was expectedly noisy. The angle shifted to the timer on top of the ring and you could see that there was only ten seconds left. When the lens panned to the court, you saw a player wearing your Uni’s colors and you couldn’t have mistaken Jungkook for anyone when you spotted the tattoo sleeve. He was a bit far from the ring, at that curved line – the three-point line, you learned through the replies – but he successfully shot the ball quite gracefully into the ring and everyone just lost it. Even the person behind the video was cheering exuberantly. You could also make out that Jungkook pumped the air at his own shot in triumph as a buzzing sound overtook the screams before the clip ended.
Apparently, they were losing in the fourth game, but Jungkook managed to make a three-point shot in the very literal end which got them a chance to play through the fifth.
You scrolled through the comments and found out that it was indeed a tight game and the other team only had a three-point difference with your Uni’s team, like Nayeon said.
It was amazing, in your opinion, but people online could really be shitty.
Some were mocking Jungkook’s buzzer beater in game 4, saying how it was useless and how he could’ve done it again in game 5 but wasn’t able to. You didn’t know shit about basketball but you were very certain it was a rare thing to do in court so the people who were complaining about it could go fuck themselves.
This is why you avoid social media as much as possible. You hope Jungkook doesn’t see those comments.
You were frowning as you texted Nayeon back.
[10:26pm] You: That was cool
[10:26pm] You: Hey I’ll talk to you soon I’m gonna go eat dinner. Have fun on your sleepover
You weren’t able to see her reply when Jungkook’s name is suddenly plastered all over your screen. You accepted his call on the third ring.
“Hi,” you say. You can’t help but think about the negative comments on Twitter but Jungkook sounded fine when he answered.
“Hi, baby,” he greeted on his end. “Can I see you?"
"Sure,” you answer almost immediately. You composed yourself before continuing. “Nayeon will be out until morning. Come over?"
You can feel his smile through the line as he says, "Nice. Be there in five."
Per his words, Jungkook did arrive in five minutes and when you heard a knock from your front door, you quickly opened it and ushered him inside.
"Hey,” you greet him as he removes his stompers off. He slides on your extra fluffy home slippers, your old one that you have been lending him whenever he would come over. You think it’s kind of funny on his feet because the sliders were too small. “I just finished my leftover pizza for dinner so I don’t have any food right now. Do you want me to order in?"
Jungkook shakes his head. "Nah, I’m not really hungry. Unless you are? Wait, nevermind, I’ll do that."
He takes out his phone but you stop him.
"No, no, it’s fine. I actually ordered Chinese while you were on your way so I could beat you to it.” You tease. But you kind of meant it, honestly. He needs to stop paying for everything. But also, the pizza didn’t cut your hunger and you needed to eat rice, anyway, so you ordered in right after your call with him ended.
Jungkook frowned but then shook his head. “Alright."
"Water?” You asked, going towards the kitchen.
“Yes, please."
He followed you on your way there and when you turned around to give him the glass, he snaked an arm around your waist and kissed you.
It took you by surprise, but you reciprocated immediately. You mirrored his smile when he broke the kiss. He gazed at you, a fond look on his face, and leaned down to press his forehead to yours and said, "Hi."
You giggle. "Hi."
Jungkook presses his mouth on you again and you kiss some more for a little while. It was weird because your kisses usually lead to fucking, but this time it didn’t mean anything other than plain kissing, just for the sake of it. You were reminded of that time in high school when you and your first boyfriend often made out (sloppily) in your room because it was all you were ready to do. Jungkook was far more skilled than said first boyfriend, though. And it felt way nicer with him.
You were the one to pull away, licking your lips and biting the bottom one.
"Do you wanna watch something?"
"Hm. Hopefully you aren’t going to make me watch Legally Blonde again."
Your frown is instant. "I thought you liked that movie?"
Jungkook chuckles and pecks your lips again but you sulk, especially after hearing his next words, "I do, baby. It’s just I’m getting tired of it…” When he sees your frown deepening, he says, “I’m kidding. We can watch it."
"No, I feel betrayed now.” You break free from his hold and down another glass of water.
He laughed and was about to say more when your doorbell rang, indicating the food delivery just arrived. Jungkook was the one to volunteer.
“I’ll go get it."
You turned on the TV in the living room and sat on the couch.
Jungkook followed almost as quickly after you, placing the bags of Chinese food on the coffee table.
"Oh, I think we should watch an Adam Sandlers movie. Just something not so serious.” you said just as when Jungkook sat beside you, remembering about his game earlier. You noted that he seemed to be in a good mood when he came in but you never know, maybe he was good at hiding his real emotions or whatever. And, well, maybe you were a little happy to see him laughing like that with you, despite losing an important game.
“I thought you hated him and his movies?"
You shrug, appreciating that he even remembers that.
"Eh, it’s fine. It's... camp, you know? Sometimes shitty movies are funny because they’re shitty."
After a while, you get reminded why you don’t watch Adam Sandlers movies. Even Jungkook who laughs at the most stupid jokes didn’t find the supposed punchlines of the movie you were watching funny. But somehow, you found yourselves eventually laughing at how unfunny the film was and only a little surprised when you went through the whole Chinese take-outs not even 30 minutes in the movie.
"His movies always make my film maker dreams die.” You comment absentmindedly, drinking your water.
Jungkook looks at you with a surprised expression. “Filmmaker?"
You try to remember if you mentioned it to him in passing before. By the look on his face, it was probably his first time hearing it.
"Yep."
"Oh,” Jungkook nods in thought. “I see you didn’t pursue it."
"Eh, film school is expensive. Also, it’s not a very generous industry for women, so.” You shrug nonchalantly.
It’s a dormant dream for the most part. Sometimes, you want it a lot, but most of the time, not really. Fresh out of high school, you were supposed to major in it but it was way more you could afford, and your family didn't exactly support it. So study education it is. Besides, teaching was a secondary dream that you decided you could pursue, and well, you were doing well with it. These days though, you were planning to go to law school but it's still something you aren't very sure yet.
It’s a drama you don’t want to bother Jungkook with, though. You never had a discussion like this before… and you weren’t really sure if you were ready to open up to someone like that.
“I did videography in first year,” he shares. You arch your brow at that. Obviously you didn’t know. “I liked it and I was going to major in multimedia arts but dad said it was either be a lawyer or a doctor if I don’t do tech."
Ah. An overachiever family, you think. His dad owns a really huge tech company – he didn’t tell you that himself, you just heard it from other people in your school. He probably doesn’t even know you knew that. But you wouldn’t be surprised if he told you right now that his family was full of successful professionals.
"You went with tech.” You say.
Jungkook chuckles. “I did. But I made a bargain and said I would only take it if he lets me play basketball. He did let me, but he only tolerates it because I’m passing my classes."
You nodded, relating a bit. you wouldn't say your parents were particularly strict – but they were extremely practical people who wanted practical lives for their children. They weren’t over-controlling that they smother you with decisions you could make yourself.
"He really hates it, though.” Jungkook continues.
“Basketball?” You ask.
He nods. “Yeah. He thinks I’m thinking of going professional after I graduate, he doesn’t want me to do it."
"Are you?” You ask, curious. “Going professional, I mean.”
Jungkook shrugs. “I don’t know yet. I love playing. I'd also like to do tech after college, but it feels like I’m just following in his footsteps if I do that," And as if you didn't know already, he humbly adds, "My father’s in tech, by the way.” -- as if his dad was just a regular guy in the field.
He didn’t say it directly, but you feel like he’s probably being pressured by his dad to do this and that. And that makes you feel bad. Jungkook was always so easy-going, so laidback in a way that you would think he was just some varsity casanova asshole with zero care about their future because they think their looks could get them by through their lives, but he really wasn’t anything like that at all. He joined basketball because he loves it, maybe he gets a high from people admiring him for it but you could say he does it mostly for himself. That’s why he trains so hard and plays so hard in court. Aside from that, he was also really smart – which gets overlooked quite often because of his jock persona, and you know that because you were one of those who did overlook his intelligence before because he was a varsity. But he was smart, alright. He takes his studies seriously just as basketball.
Jungkook is admittedly a lot of great things. And it was sad that his family seemed to not support him, the way you see it.
But…
You didn’t really know what to tell him. Is he opening up? It’s just that… you never really talked about these things before and what he’s saying right now is so far from your usual lighthearted and casual conversations and interactions. You drew a conclusion that he probably has a tight relationship with his dad, but you don’t know what to do with that entirely new information.
“Uhm, you’re good at it, basketball,” And his studies, too. You wanted to say but didn’t. You add, “I saw your beater buzzer from the game earlier. It was really cool."
"It’s buzzer beater– hey, how did you know about that?” He says with an amused smile. You feel slightly embarrassed at how you mixed up the term but it was kind of complicated, alright! And you were kind of nervous. You find it comforting that he doesn’t tease you about it, though.
“Oh, well. Nayeon texted me about it. Also, you’re like, trending on Twitter.” You just told what Nayeon said. You actually didn’t know if he was trending because you didn’t have an account in the first place. “But don’t go look there, though, you’ll have a migraine."
Jungkook chuckles and leans back on the couch, relaxed in that position. "Yeah. People on the net can be real assholes."
That comment makes you frown. That probably meant he saw the negative feedback, right? Was he used to it? That would be… upsetting if he was. You knew about the local popularity of the athletes in your school, especially the football and volleyball and basketball players. Jungkook is obviously included in that circle but you feel bad that he has to deal with unnecessary hate. Jobs really are needed for chronically online people, you think bitterly.
Before you could say anything, Jungkook’s phone rang and you didn’t mean to look at his screen but you saw "Dad”. He declined the call.
“He’s talking my ear off about the game earlier,” Jungkook shakes his head. “He acts real concerned over my loss for someone who’s very unsupportive of my basketball career.” He was grinning while he said it but you could hear the annoyance in his tone, how he shut down his phone to probably dodge future calls from his father.
You turned to the movie in front of you.
“Hey, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to go.” You said, effectively changing the subject.
“Hm?” You meet Jungkook’s gaze. He smiles a little. “Ah, I read your text earlier, it’s fine."
You nodded and tried to focus on the movie again, but you haven’t been following the plot and so you had no idea what they’re showing you now.
Jungkook suddenly speaks.
"So are you planning to teach once you graduate? Or take law? You mentioned it before."
Oh. Is he…?
You could feel his genuine curiosity in that question. But you find yourself hesitating to engage in any more deep conversation with him. It’s not that you didn’t want to share… you’re just not that kind of person. Is he expecting you to lay out your personal drama?
You choose not to.
"Not sure. I don't want to talk about it."
You didn't mean for it to come out the way it did; clipped and annoyed. As if you didn't want to talk to him. And you could see that he was taken aback, surprised at the sudden change of your tone. But why? You didn’t feel like sharing. And anyway, you were only fuck buddies, right? Are you suddenly becoming bestfriends who tell each other about everything?
You awkwardly shifted in your seat, eyes trained on the screen in front of you but you felt Jungkook’s stare even while you weren’t looking at him, his eyes boring holes in your side profile.
You decided to not think too much about the awkward silence throughout the next few minutes, but Jungkook suddenly stood up, looking at his phone.
“I... should get going,” Jungkook announces.
And you didn’t expect to feel so bummed about it. But somehow, you were relieved. There was suddenly a certain strange energy around and you didn’t know if you could take any more of it.
“Ah, yeah, it’s kind of late…” you trail off.
Jungkook smiles at you but it doesn’t reach his eyes. You delude yourself into thinking it was not fake. He’s never faked a smile with you before.
“Thanks for the food and for inviting me over.”
“No biggies.” You say as you follow him towards the door.
It’s silent again when he wears his shoes, and once he was set and ready to go, you could feel that your smile was hesitant as he bid his goodbye.
“See you around."
He didn’t offer anything more – he would usually tease you as he goes out, just to rile you up before you part ways. Jungkook just gave a final wave and went on his way.
You had a hard time sleeping that night.
It wasn’t hard to avoid Jungkook all week when he himself seemed to be outdoing you in it.
For the record, you weren’t actually avoiding him for all sense of the word. You needed your space to collect your thoughts from that night and were trying to recover from the awkwardness of the situation because Jungkook and you might not be the best of friends but you’ve never been awkward with each other like that before.
But maybe you should be a little relieved that he hasn’t been texting, or that you haven’t heard from him. Because you weren’t sure if you were able to manage getting out of your shell so soon.
It didn’t mean that it didn’t sting a bit when he didn’t even spare you a glance the other day as you passed each other in the hallways and perhaps you should be celebrating, because yey, he finally did not acknowledge you in some way like meet your gaze and give you a small smile with so many people around that might notice and make a big deal out of it?
But you wore the black skirt he liked so much! He was supposed to text you something stupid like "nice skirt :) i wanna see it pooled around my lap” by the end of the day but no! No such thing happened.
Was he mad at you, is that it? Why would he be mad though? Did he seem mad that night? Did you do something that guaranteed this... Whatever this is? As far as you knew, you did not say anything that warranted a silent treatment from him. Did you? Wait, is he actually giving you the silent treatment?
Ugh.
When Thursday came, you found yourself watching their fourth game on TV together with Nayeon. You got a slight whiplash because it felt like your first time seeing Jungkook’s face in a long while. Somehow, he looked even better on TV, and he was so serious whenever the camera caught him. You supposed he ought to be, but you’ve never seen him that serious before. He would smile whenever they scored, and maybe it was a little embarrassing for your heart to do a little jump when you saw that toothy grin again, after so long.
You were slow to understand shit about the game, but you got the whole gist of it eventually.
Unfortunately, though, the tight game resulted to your university losing in the end.
You wanted so badly to text him something, anything, but you felt like you weren’t on texting terms, so you went to your Instagram and sent Jungkook a direct message.
[11:58pm] ynblips: Hi! I watched the game on TV and it was really tight and you did so well :)
You were mostly not expecting a reply, so you were only a little disappointed when you indeed didn’t get one even after a day passed. But he liked it, only liked it. Which kind of pissed you off.
What was his deal? You’ve gathered that you, apparently, weren’t on speaking terms, for some reason. But this was ridiculous. If he had a problem with you, he should be upfront about it. Not make you guess with this stupid giving-you-the-cold-shoulder thing when you didn’t even deserve it. For god’s sake, you knew that last meeting was awkward but you both usually do a good job of swerving those situations and moving on and acting casual! You’ve been casual for four months! This relationship was supposed to be easy. Smooth-sailing. So what changed now?
Nayeon noticed your crankiness earlier this day, and it concerned you, how much this whole thing was affecting you.
But you’ve grown tired of not knowing anything. You were tired of guessing why Jungkook was being like this.
So you were a woman with a mission today. You planned to talk to Jungkook so he could finally be a big boy and talk to you about his obvious problems with you. Because it had to be that, right? He wouldn’t talk to you because he had issues with you.
Later that day, your quest was made easy when you saw him at the library.
You’re only a little surprised with yourself when you walk towards his direction with the presence of many people around. Yeah, whatever.
“Hey,” you called.
You could see Jungkook’s eyes widening a little as he turns around to see you, his hand stopping from taking notes on his iPad as he looks up at you.
“Oh, hey,” he greets you, but you can see he is a little confused as he takes out his airpods. You never talked to him on school grounds whenever people were around. He neither did, though. It was a mutual agreement.
“We need to talk."
Jungkook looks in between you and the book and notes he was doing, and you would understand if he tells you to fuck off because he was busy – maybe not with those exact words because you’d probably take it to heart and cry about it, but he’s taken you by surprise when he says,
"Okay. Let me just fix this.” Jungkook closes his book and his iPad, stuffing them in his bag.
You anxiously tap your shoe on the floor, though not with sound, aware of the people looking at your interaction with the school’s basketball star player.
“Where to?” He asks as he slings his bag over his shoulder.
“Just, uh, follow me."
He surprisingly does without further questions, and you begin to second-guess yourself about being kind of mad at him for seemingly being mad at you. Maybe you were reading too much into these past few days? Maybe he really wasn’t mad at you and you just assumed so because he suddenly stopped texting you? It’s not that you needed an explanation for why he wasn’t talking to you suddenly. He had a life outside having a friends with benefits situation with you and you know that.
Jungkook stopped when you halted your steps at the far end of the library. It was the old theology section and no one really comes around here anymore so it was quiet and free of lingering, poorly hidden stares from other strangers, who you prefer to not be included in this conversation you are about to have.
Shit, should you have just texted him and told him to come over so you could talk more in private? But you doubted he would reply, and anyway, Nayeon would be home so you had no private space to do that.
"Okay,” you start. “Let’s talk."
Jungkook quirks a brow, leaning back on a cabinet.
You look at him one more time and sigh.
"You’ve been avoiding me.” You didn’t really mean to say it in such a heavy tone, but it came out that way and you couldn’t take it back.
Jungkook is caught off guard.
“Huh?"
You frown. "You’re avoiding me. And I don’t know why and I couldn't care less, usually, but I'm confused and I don’t want to guess anything with you so just say it now."
There, you’ve blurted it all out.
Jungkook took a long time, but you feel yourself getting angry when he only says, "I’m not upset with you."
Really? Really?! Is he really planning to to do this right now? What’s next, is he going to call you crazy for thinking that he was mad at you because he suddenly stopped talking to you altogether? Un-fucking-believable.
"I know you are, just say it.” You say, trying to balance your emotions. He really is gonna call you crazy if you lash out.
“I’m just busy with practice.” but the way he said it so dismissively, like he wanted to be anywhere but here right now, makes you frown even harder.
“You can’t even text me?” You called out. You didn’t know why you said that, because you did just tell yourself it wasn’t a big deal if he didn’t text you. But it doesn’t mean that it didn’t hurt when he confirmed it.
“I don’t owe you an explanation."
You bite back your tongue. Wow, is he going for asshole today? But it hurt, because it was true. He didn’t need to give you an explanation. You weren’t anything important, and nor was he in your life, in any way, so why are you genuinely hurt by this?
When Jungkook noticed your silence, a flash of conflict in his expression, he decided to add, "Look…” he trailed off, as if not really having any idea what to say next. When he gave you that placating look, you knew he was about to say something that will completely piss you off.
“Is it about the sex? I’m sorry we haven’t been able to do that the past few days. Do you want to have sex today?”
You felt anger boiling in your chest as soon as he said that.
He really is going for asshole today.
What in the actual fuck? He thinks you’re confronting him because you haven’t been having sex? Why would he say that like you were just some desperate whore frothing in the mouth to bed him? Does he think of you so low like that? Did he not consider that maybe you were just genuinely concerned of feeling so distant to him right now?
You swallow the lump in your throat and scowl at him.
“You know what, fuck you. I asked you nicely what’s your problem with me.”
Jungkook was visibly surprised with your outburst, and you were disappointed in yourself to even show an ounce of reaction to that bullshit he just said.
But he just looks away, eager to avoid the look on your face. “You didn’t ask that, you went ahead and accused me of avoiding you when you’ve been doing the same thing."
"Oh, so you are admitting to avoiding me. What’s the issue? Say it.” You demanded. But Jungkook wasn’t having any of it.
“I don’t have a problem. What’s your problem? Why are you acting so upset about all of this?"
To even throw that on your face was cruel, and you think you saw a flash of hesitation on his face when he said that, but it was blank after a split second. It’s blank until now, like he doesn’t really give a shit.
Great.
"I just want you to talk to me if you’re upset with me about something.” You say, even though that wasn’t really what you intended to say. It felt like defeat.
You feel pathetic all of a sudden, remembering his words. Why are you so upset about all of this? Because clearly, you care. And apparently, he did not. He didn’t have to put that to words. He didn’t have the right to hurt you like this.
“Talk?” Jungkook repeats. “The last time we did that, you didn't seem to want to."
His words have a bite to them, like he means more than that. And that night flashes in your head. When he was opening up to you, and you chose to disengage by being cagey and avoiding it all together because you felt weird about it.
When you don’t answer, Jungkook sighs.
"I have practice in five minutes. I’ll see you around."
He doesn’t even say goodbye or spare you a last glance when he walks away.
You are a turtle.
Obviously, not literally. But turtles, when bombarded, reflexively duck their heads inside their shells to protect themselves before any damage could be done to them. And the same could be said about you.
You avoid problems like a champ. It’s the only sport that you’re really great at.
Growing up, you’ve never really had a lot of friends. You had a small circle in high school but you didn’t see a significant value in your connection. Maybe because you grew up in an environment where love was non-existent and the relationships in your house were transactional at best, still are. Until now, you have no idea if your parents loved each other at one point or if they were always like that; like two different strangers working jobs during the day that just happen to have the same house to go to at night so you and Jini have some people to call "mom” and “dad”. You guessed you’ll never know, but it was hard not to think that their relationship has always been the latter. Your relationship with your sister mirrors that of your parents’, though, so you can’t really criticize them for not acting like partners enough.
When you were young, you hated the way you approached friendship or any sort of relationships a lot. You hated how it was so easy for others to befriend one another, how it was easy for girls your age to have a life outside of studying. You hated how easy it was for other people to not build these sturdy walls whenever someone approached them. But you just kind of grew into it along the way…
Social networking is important for college, though, and you were forced to have friends but you did make friends willingly along the way. It was not that you are a total sociopath, nor do you think you are one. Nayeon was a sweetheart who was very likeable and you’ve had the pleasure of being roommates with her for two years now. You are close to a certain point, but it wasn’t like you were best friends. She was two years older than you and was on her last year of college and had her own close circle of friends. The closeness was a result of living a domesticated life with each other because you lived in the same house. But you genuinely like her.
And you’ve actually met more people you genuinely liked when you went to college, not just her. Like Taehyung. He was a fun conversationalist, and you feel like you could totally hit it off only if you weren’t too hesitant to befriend him. Juyeon is probably the most hardworking woman you’ve ever met, and most of your liking towards her has a lot to do with the respect and admiration you have for her. And then there was Namjoon. A guy two years your senior during your sophomore year who you've had a short fling with. He was a great guy whom you actually saw yourself dating, but it was a bit complicated. And then Jungkook…
Well… he was everything you imagined him not to be.
You still remember the first time you saw him during orientation day. He wore this huge white sweatshirt and light-washed cargo pants with some stomper boots, hair curly and so fluffy as he slung his bag over his shoulder, talking animatedly with a friend. You’ve had crushes in high school (like that one senior guy from the debate team who turned out to be an asshole so you got over it pretty quickly) but it was the first time you’ve ever felt so strongly like that. Your crush faded eventually though when you learned he was a jock.
However, the universe made different plans. You both had the same code for your first term Philo class and got partnered on a project, and unexpectedly, he turned out to be smart, kind, witty, so unbelievably handsome and attractive and actually wasn’t an asshole like you thought he was when you found out he played in the varsity team. That was the start of your pathetic minor pining over the guy and then four months ago happened.
You hit it off at a random party Nayeon told you to come with her to. Had enjoyable sex. And then another. Until you both talked about the agreement – the stupid agreement that you have now still.
You like him a lot. Always have. In more ways than one.
You were an expert at hiding your feelings so it never really got in the way. And anyway, you aren’t ready for a relationship so the arrangement has always been perfect for you.
But you hated that. Because, really? This part of your life feels like some pages taken out of a shitty young adult fiction book. Falling for the popular jock at school at the same time your fuck buddy. It wasn’t supposed to be like that. You weren’t supposed to like him more than you already have because you were both clear at what you wanted when you started it. But it happened and all those fun times with him at the abandoned lot and the soft kisses and gentle smiles and fond gazes and funny conversations and his stupid teasing are most likely going down the drain because you hurt him with your inability to face your feelings.
You aren’t stupid. You know Jungkook likes you too. You know the past few weeks have been dangerously teetering outside the line of being fuck buddies but you went along with it because who wouldn’t? What were you to do, anyway? Confront it? You’ve never been confrontational.
So when Jungkook tried to get to know more than your outer surface by opening up to you about things that probably no one other than you knew, you cowered.
You cowered because you were afraid of what that would entail.
You’ve never done it, opening up to people. You’ve never known anyone to a point like that. You just weren’t the type to get too close to others, them letting them you in their lives just as you let them in yours. That wasn’t who you were and you’ve always been contented with that for most of your life.
But it wasn’t fair to Jungkook and it wasn’t fair to you. It wasn’t fair to Jungkook because he deserved to know that you care. He deserves to know that you want to know him, too. You want to be close to him more than just the physical, sexual aspect of your relationship. You want to know his intentions behind the overly kind, almost special way he treats you, his caring words, the meaning behind his soft kisses after sex, the purpose behind those kisses that didn’t lead to sex.
And lastly, you want him to know that you were sorry for the other night.
So when another Friday rolled, you finally mustered up the courage to go to his game. It was the last one, after all. You wanted to show up.
The venue was crowded and chaotic and you wanted to ditch but you decided it was fine. You were gonna endure it if it meant you finally got to see Jungkook physically in court.
And saw him, you did. Even though you were in the middle row seats and wearing a cap because you oddly felt unwelcomed and didn’t want to be seen by him – as if he would even want to see you. But it was whatever.
Jungkook was… amazing. That was really the only adjective you could use to describe how he was. Maybe you were a little biased but he was the greatest out of all the ten people running around the court. He just stood out, even when someone else did the good job of scoring.
And people around you seemed to think so too because whenever he did get to score or was the one holding the ball or his face got shown on the huge screen, everyone just lost it.
The match was tight again so it bled into five games. Your Uni just needed to win the last one and they would successfully bring the trophy home.
You found yourself silently cheering for your team, specifically Jungkook, though it felt strange to you because this was your first sports game, after all. But it felt good to do it. It also felt good to see other people so passionate at cheering him on as well as his team, especially after you read all that hate against him on the internet the other week.
And it felt especially great when they did win in the end of it all.
The stands went wild as the game finished with your Uni scoring a solid 105 and 96 for the other.
You’ve stayed long to see Jungkook being awarded the MVP title, but not long enough to find it difficult to get an Uber as you went home.
Nayeon got to your place later than you, but you learned that she wasn’t at the game earlier but was in a study group instead.
You ordered dinner for the both of you, just some Chinese that you quickly finished up.
By 11 pm, you were panicking.
You had a solid plan yesterday. You were supposed to go to Jungkook and apologize to him and whatever but how the hell were you going to do that when you had no idea where he was now? Ugh. You should’ve approached him after the games earlier! But you didn’t feel comfortable doing that with so many people around…
You saw your phone on your night stand and got an idea to just text him. But you didn’t know if he was going to respond. If he was going to tell you to fuck off, you at least didn’t want to receive that through text.
So you opted for the last and craziest option you’ve got.
[11:08pm] You: Hello, Taehyung! I know we haven’t talked in a while and I’m sorry for texting you now, I just have some questions if you don’t mind :) Congrats on winning Finals by the way, it was a great game.
You anxiously wait for his reply that you received not even a minute after you sent your text.
[11:08pm] K. Taehyung: hi __ HAHAHHA im a bit surprised to see your name on my phone!! we’ve never gotten around having that coffee 😅 but thank you for the congrats! hit me with those questions i don’t mind
[11:09pm] You: It’s a real bummer that we’ve both been so busy ):
[11:10pm] You: But I was wondering if you know where Jungkook is? Last week he lent me a jacket when he saw me pour a drink on myself at some cafe, haha. So I was thinking I should give it to him now but I have no idea how to
Listen, it wasn’t the whole truth, but it wasn’t a complete lie either. You indeed needed to find Jungkook, and he lent you a jacket weeks ago which you needed to return but you forgot about it and conveniently remembered it just earlier when you were trying to conjure up an excuse to see him.
[11:10pm] K. Taehyung: oh i was actually just talking to him awhile ago. he wouldn’t go to the after-game party. said he was gonna stay up all night to play overwatch or something
[11:10pm] K. Taehyung: I can text you his address if you want to come over like right now
You feel like you aren’t supposed to just give your friends’ addresses away like that but it is flattering to think that Taehyung must trust you enough to not assume you were a psychopath serial killer or something.
[11:11pm] You: Yes, please. Thank you so much, Taehyung. Catch up on that coffee hang another time
You got an Uber to drive to his place. You tried not to think too much about the fancy complex and how there were elevators instead of just stairs like yours but you managed to get to Jungkook’s place through Taehyung’s text.
You pressed a button upside the knob. It created a loud buzz and you tighten your fingers around the ribbon handles of the paper bag that got his jacket inside.
It was the perfect excuse. You did need to return it to him. And if you got too flustered or scared to talk to him further, you were just going to leave right after he takes it from you and just accept the fact that he probably really hates you now because you were mean and—
The door opens, revealing Jungkook. A shirtless, wet Jungkook.
“Oh."
Jungkook has a hint of shock in his eyes when he comes face to face with you. You’ve never been here, for the record. And he was probably wondering how the hell you got his address.
"Uh,” you start. You thrust the paper bag towards him. “Here. It’s your jacket from weeks ago. I washed it already. Thanks for lending me it.”
You see his hesitation when he takes it from you, and it makes your nerves go haywire.
Jungkook mumbled a little thanks. He stood there for a moment, probably still not getting the shock out of his system. As each second passed, you felt the need and the urge to go, but his voice cut that idea in your head.
“Uh. Do you wanna come in?"
"Yes.” Maybe it was too much of an immediate answer, but you needed to. If you were to stand outside much longer, your courage will wear down and you might miss an opportunity to talk to him.
Jungkook stepped aside and further invited you in. Your steps were a little shy as you followed him inside, watching as he took a pair of Nike sliders and offered it to you as you removed your birkens off your feet.
“Thank you.” You tell him, sliding your feet on the slippers that were definitely too big for you.
He gave you a small smile in return. That gave you a bit of hope that it would go well tonight.
“I’m just gonna go and change into something. You can sit here,” You followed behind him into the living room of his rather huge flat. Really, this was more of a condo unit than an apartment. “There's– sorry. I wasn't– it’s kind of messy here right now but I was busy the past few days. It’s not usually like this here."
Jungkook hastily arranged the scattered throw pillows on the couch. You even hear him hissed as he picked up a bowl and some take-out trash on the coffee table. He reached for something in the tight corner of the couch, holding up a remote awkwardly for you.
He quickly looked away from you though, turning to his huge TV (it was literally a jumbotron) and making it light up. It showed some kind of game on pause.
"I’m sorry, I was playing something earlier. Uh, do you want to play anything? I have a lot of games.” He continued to say.
And you realized Jungkook was panicking. He was rambling, talking words over his own words, jumping from one thing to another and hastily cleaning up the space in the living room.
It was… adorable. The way he was kind of scrambling… to accommodate you? Eh. But it was nice. Nice to know that you aren’t the only one panicking.
“Thanks for the offer, but I don’t really play anything.” You say honestly. You don’t like gaming. It’s stressful.
“Oh…” Jungkook trails off then his eyes set on the kitchen. “Oh shit wait, do you want water? Tea? I don’t think I have tea but I think I can look for something?"
You couldn’t help the laugh that came out from your mouth but you quickly cut yourself off.
"Sorry. Uhm. No. I don’t want anything.” Truthfully, you wanted water but Jungkook needed to change into something immediately. You may not exactly be talking talking right now but his body and tattoos were nice to look at and you didn’t want it to distract you too much. It felt wrong to admire him like that when you were not exactly in great terms.
“You sure?” When you nodded, Jungkook did the same too, but more like to himself. “Okay. I’ll just get to my room."
You sat on his nice leather couch and looked around as Jungkook changed.
It was such a nice place. You could see that it was indeed expensive. The space was definitely, like, three times larger than your own and it even seemed to have another room on the far end. You didn’t know if Jungkook lived alone, he never mentioned anything about it.
You still didn’t find yourself completely relaxed as Jungkook emerged from his room.
The fringe of his bangs are still wet from his shower, but he’s now changed into a grey hoodie with matching shorts.
"Hey,” he said as he walked towards you and sat on the couch. The distance was far but not totally that you end up being on the opposite sides.
“Hi,” you greeted him back. “You have a nice place."
He smiles. "Thank you."
The atmosphere was incredibly awkward, you could feel that. But you pushed yourself to go through it.
"Congrats on the game earlier.” You tell him sincerely.
“Ah… thanks."
"I went there."
"Really?” You could see the understandable surprise in his face after hearing your words. “I didn’t see you."
You chuckle lightly. "Hm. You were too serious and busy in the court to see me.”
Jungkook shyly looks away.
“I– well. You should have told me. I could’ve gotten you a nice seat. Did you get a nice seat?” The sentiment was cute but surprising at the same time. After that time in the library, you wouldn’t have expected him to get you a nice seat.
“It was okay."
It didn’t look like he would say anything more, but you were a little relieved to have a break from the atmosphere when the door buzzed again, indicating someone coming.
You feel your heart jump.
You didn’t know why your mind went to such dark places like him having someone over to do– what? Ugh. Jungkook wouldn’t do that, would he? Honesty was what you agreed on when you started this agreement. You promised to tell each other right away if you start sleeping with other people because of health reasons.
"That must be the pizza.” Jungkook murmurs as he stands up.
You almost sigh in relief.
Okay. So no other women coming over.
Jungkook comes back a moment later with three boxes.
“I thought we could eat something,” he said as he sat on the couch again, this time a little closer than earlier. He looked at the TV, still on that game he was playing. He placed the pizza on the table and took the remote to exit out of his game, pressing some buttons on it and eventually the screen loaded to Netflix. “You wanna watch something?"
That would be nice, actually.
"Yep."
"Okay… uh. Legally Blonde?"
You couldn’t help your eyebrow from raising.
Jungkook laughs a little. You’re a little surprised to hear it. It felt like eons ago since you’ve heard it.
"I like it a lot.” He shrugged and then looked it up on Netflix, clicked the movie poster and pressed play.
You start eating the pizza on the couch. You were obsessed with Legally Blonde probably an abnormal amount but this time, its entertainment didn’t affect you full force because at the back of your head, you’re still trying to figure out how to speak up the words you really wanted to say to Jungkook.
“Hey…” you suddenly speak. You hesitate for a while but then let out a heavy breath. Jungkook looks at you because of that. “I’m sorry."
His confusion was anticipated. He face looks like he was ready to ask, but you continue,
"About the other night. Uh. When you went over. I’m sorry. I made you feel like I didn’t care but…” you train your gaze to the remote on the corner of the couch. “But I do, Jungkook. I care about you. It’s just that, it freaked me out, you know? People never felt comfortable enough with me to share such personal things and I’ve always been okay with that because I’m not exactly—” you cut yourself off, trying to organize your thoughts. But you give up because there was no use in doing such. You wanted to be honest as much as possible. “I know I don’t exactly strike people as someone who can care. And, well, that’s true, you know? People always tell me that I almost function like a robot. So, uh, I freaked out, because I thought you trusted me enough to do that and I felt like I didn’t deserve it, your trust I mean. And so I acted like that because I didn’t know what—”
“Hey,” Jungkook stopped you before you could go on a full spiral. You didn’t notice because of your rambling earlier but he was closer this time. “Breathe. It’s fine. I have all the time to listen to you."
It was such a sweet sentiment, paired with his charming smile. You feel your heart jump and look away from his gaze.
"Baby,"
There. He’s calling you that name again. Has he forgiven you? Were you both on that terms again? But he couldn’t have forgiven you that fast!
"Baby, look at me,” you did, because he held your face in his warm hands, making you look at him. You could feel your cheeks tingle in his hold. “I’m actually so glad you came here tonight. I appreciate your apology, and I accept it.” He says, voice sounding so sincere.
You looked down, feeling like you don’t deserve it at all.
“I’ve been thinking, you know?” Jungkook lifts your chin up with his fingers, smiling, such mirth behind it that you think he was probably thinking you were going to tease him about his words. But you didn’t feel like joking with him right now. “I totally didn’t think things through that night. I shouldn’t have told you all about my personal drama—"
Oh, no. That’s exactly what you thought you made him feel that night, and for him to verbalize it, it hurts you. Because you knew you truly made him feel that way. It wasn’t your intention but you knew your reaction –or lack thereof– threw him off.
"No, no. I should have—"
"No, ___, I shouldn’t have dumped all of that onto you expecting you to have a say about it and be disappointed and extremely hurt when you didn’t. We don’t know each other a lot, I know that." He gives you a sheepish smile. "I guess I just... I wanted us to know each other a little better you know? But I must’ve freaked you out instead and made you uncomfortable with me telling you all about those when we made it clear that this relationship was never going to be like that, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for dumping. I kind of… realized that... maybe you just wanted some lazy time with me that night. So I’m sorry. I believe you're also apologetic about it, but I’m saying don’t be. It was all on me."
Jungkook’s words were a jumbled mess in your head that you were surprised to even get them.
"I–no, no. Kook– I… told you, I care about you. I—” you felt a metaphorical block in your head, and it made you cut yourself off. But then you remember his words and so you continue, “I didn’t just– look. It was unexpected, and I told you I just freaked out because I didn’t know where we stood and I just felt like I wasn’t deserving to know you like that. But I care a lot about you.”
Jungkook was quiet for a while, and you feared he was contemplating and thinking you were just lying to get over everything with. But then his face softens at your words. “I care a lot about you, too,” He says, and then it contorts a little, as if he remembered something. “That’s why I’m also… I’m also sorry about that time at the library. I was a complete asshole to you. I wanted to be mean because I was hurt but none of it was your fault. I really am sorry."
Your head takes you back to that time in the library. He did hurt you with the harsh words he’d spoken, but his apology sounded sincere and you believe it.
"Yeah. Uhm. I’m sorry about cornering you there. I should’ve texted you that I wanted to talk but I wasn’t sure if you were going to reply."
Jungkook looked a little shameful for reasons that you couldn’t think of.
"I’m sorry about that. I acted like such a boy about the whole thing. You don’t deserve to be ghosted suddenly because you hurt my feelings without you even really knowing why. I should’ve talked to you properly."
You bite your lip, feeling like you were suddenly going to cry.
You know it was the bare minimum, and even though he said you had nothing to be sorry about, you still feel oddly emotional about someone apologizing to you. You’d never been apologized to sincerely even when a lot of people have done you wrong and hurt you before. They always thought you didn’t care or just got over things quickly because apparently, people had the impression that you weren’t the type to feel anything.
"I like you a lot.” You blurt out.
It was stupid. It was so stupid to say that in the middle of this conversation, but your mouth was running faster than your brain and you couldn’t help it.
“Really?” Jungkook grins, and it was quite big. Your heart beats faster in your chest. “I really like you, too. Like, a lot. Probably more than you do.”
You meet his eyes finally. They hold such fondness for you, and you’ve always noticed. But you brush it away just as it shows. Regular, old, __. Always pushing away people who like her.
Right now, you’re berating yourself for pointedly ignoring that before, but his dark eyes serve as a distraction. They were so ominous and so big and looked like they had the stars in them. And he was so handsome. Suddenly, your gaze falls to his lips and quickly trains to the mole under the bottom one. You’ve always wanted to kiss it but never did so because… because, well. It would be weird, right? But then you remember that Jungkook always kisses that mole in between your chest...
You blush at the thought and look away.
“That’s nice.” You said, not really knowing how to respond.
Jungkook chuckled and twisted himself to look forward again, at the TV playing Legally Blonde.
It was like that for a while and you found that the weight you’ve been carrying all week on your back felt like it’s been lifted, finally.
This night was going really, really well.
And so well it went.
Legally Blonde ended and you and Jungkook somehow ended up being closer. So close that his arm just found its way around your shoulders, your leg across his, his other arm wrapped around that leg to pull you impossibly closer to him onto the next film.
It’s been half an hour into the new movie but if you were honest, your brain wasn’t really on it. It was on how Jungkook held you delicately, his mouth pressing kisses on the crown of your head occasionally, almost absentmindedly. Your thoughts were filled with the soft, gentle caresses of his hand on your leg, and how you would feel his eyes even when you weren’t looking. It was all so tender and just so, so incredibly nice.
When you yawned, Jungkook immediately checked on you with a light chuckle.
“Sleepy?” He asks.
You shake your head but another yawn forced its way out of your mouth again. You let your head fall dramatically on his chest as he laughed.
“I gotta go…” you said, thinking that it’s probably late as hell and dark outside. But you found that you really didn’t want to. The material of his hoodie was so soft and his presence was so calming and it sounded undeniably cheesy but you wanted to be held by him a little more.
“You could stay."
That made you look up at him.
"Huh?"
"You can stay here, if you want. Sleep over."
"Oh."
A flash of hesitation on his beautiful face.
"Only if you want to, of course. I’ll drive you home if you wanna go.” He offers quickly, as if embarrassed to even suggest the thing he said earlier.
But you did want to stay. But… he never stayed over at your place. You didn’t let him and he never expressed a little bit of desire to do so, anyway. Would it be unfair if he never slept over at yours but you would at his now? What did your conversation today change? When he said “I like you”, did that mean it was okay for you to stay the night?
“Uhm, I’d like to stay here, if it’s okay with you.” You said, throwing your inhibitions away. There was no room for more denials in your heart.
Jungkook’s bright grin made your worries subside. He definitely wants you to stay as much as you do.
“Okay."
"It’s okay for you? Sorry, I don’t have a lot of pillows…” Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck and looked at you sheepishly.
You waved him off. “It’s fine. Hey, come here now."
Jungkook did a poor job of hiding a big grin again as he slid on the bed with you.
When you twisted yourself so your back was facing him, about to reach for your phone on the night stand to see if Nayeon replied to your text telling her you wouldn’t be home until morning, Jungkook also did the same and wrapped his arm around your waist, basically spooning you.
And you realized that oh, he’d mistaken you for wanting to be a little spoon…
But it was cute. And you really like him holding you, so you pretended it was your intention all along and mentally noted to check your phone tomorrow morning.
"You smell good.” He said against your ear. You smiled at the way it tickled a bit.
“I don’t think I do anymore, but thanks.”
You showered right after coming home as the game ended but that was many hours ago, so surely Jungkook must just be speaking nonsense. And anyway, he was the one who smelled nice because he did just get out of the shower. He smelled like that certain apple scent he always did.
“No, really. Like flowers. I always liked that about you."
"Eh, it’s probably just my bath and body works body wash."
"Really?” You felt him sniff up your arm and you giggled. That reaction encouraged him to do it more until his nose reached your armpit. It tickled so much that you thrashed and turned and bit his arm. His laughter got louder as you did so, but you only pouted at him.
“Okay, sorry, sorry,” Jungkook said but he didn’t look like it. You didn’t expect it but he suddenly kissed your forehead. Your eyes reflexively closed at the feel of his lips on your skin.
You open them once again only to see Jungkook staring into your eyes again, quite intensely that you feel like he was there looking right into your soul.
“I missed you.” He whispered, his hand that was around your waist tightening, the other clearing up your face from stray hairs.
“I really missed you too.” you said as sincerely as you could. Because you really did, and you hope he could feel it and believe it just like you did his words.
A few seconds after and then his lips finally touched yours and it was such a relief that you sighed against them. It was a slow kiss. Sweet and too short but you didn’t really mind when Jungkook looked at you again like you hung the stars in the sky.
“Let’s sleep baby, turn around for me again.” He said and you wanted to reprimand him for ordering you around but you didn’t really feel like you needed to. You didn’t really have complaints about being the little spoon in this cuddling session, anyway.
It was only about a minute of silence when Jungkook suddenly spoke.
“Babe, I know I’m probably going to ruin this wholesome moment but can I hold your boob while we try to sleep?"
And you couldn’t help but laugh because who wouldn’t.
"Go for it.” You said, settling against his chest, getting more comfortable. Jungkook was only too happy to let you, letting out a low happy hum as he held you tighter, another hand wandering inside the worn out shirt you were wearing that he lent you for the night.
The contact was cold to the touch at first, but when he gave you a squeeze and finally rested his hand over there, it got warm eventually.
Having a weight on top of your boob while sleeping was definitely a new concept for you, but you found that it was oddly comforting.
There was nothing sexual to it, not really. And you thought Jungkook didn’t really have any sexual intentions to begin with.
It was just nice to have his hand on your breast.
“So soft,” Jungkook whispered at some point and you just chuckled in between putting yourself in slumber.
It’s been hard to settle in bed peacefully the previous nights after that debacle weeks ago, but that moment, you slid to dreamland quite easily; and you were certain it was due to Jungkook’s warm body all over yours.
EPILOGUE
( ONE MONTH LATER )
You have awoken in a feverish feeling brought by the dream of a certain man drawing all kinds of shapes on your clit with his skillful tongue. At first, the sensation felt far away, like it was just a distant memory, but you suddenly feel a seemingly too real grip on your thighs and a tentative swipe over the length of your nether region.
When you blearily open your eyes, the sunlight intruding through the seams of your room, you caught a sight of a very real man’s head in between your legs, his dark hair pulled by a headband as he determinedly pleasures your pussy.
“Jungkook,” you sigh, blindingly reaching for his head.
He hums in your pussy, and it sends a jolt right up your spine. He felt you jumping a little, and that earned a chuckle from him. The vibration of it in your aching heat made your legs quiver.
“Good morning, baby."
It was a little disorienting to wake up to Jungkook eating you out so early in the morning, but the pleasure overrode it as you throw your head back on your soft pillows, twisting your face to the side and burying it on the fluffy material as Jungkook sucks on your clit, his finger teasing over the lips of your pussy.
”Ah, that feels so good…" you moan, thrashing on the bed at the delight brought by his tongue. But Jungkook’s strong hold kept your legs wide for him to have complete access to your wet cunt which he’s licking like it was a meal he’s always wanted to have.
“Wanna make you feel good,” he said, beginning to place open mouthed kisses on your pussy that delivered delirious shivers all over your body. He emphasized his sentiment by bringing two fingers in your hole, sliding them in and out quite easily as you felt yourself gushing every second from his actions. “So wet. You love this, angel? You like what I’m doing?"
All you could give him was a pathetic little whimper that you hope he understood as he didn’t bother to wait for your response and proceeded to wrap his mouth on your clit again, his tongue flicking the sensitive bud with the steady way his fingers slipped in and out of you, lewd squelches filling the otherwise quiet room except for the chirping bird outside.
And it sounded oddly poetic.
So peaceful. Oh, to wake up like this everyday.
Your grasp on his hair tightened, bringing his face closer to your pussy that you even got a hold of his headband, but you didn’t care. All you could think about was how delicious Jungkook is speeding his fingers in your entrance, long and bony digits touching every ridge of your pussy, slowly but surely sending you to your edge. Your breath quickened every second passed, and now you could say you were fully awake.
Jungkook broke away from you and you were just about to reprimand him about it when he suddenly licked a long, slow stripe over the wet length of your entrance and you cried out.
You were nearly brought to tears when he dove in your core again to repeat his actions from earlier, but this time, he went for messy. So sloppy; his head moving around your pussy, sucking your juices with enthusiasm and making your arch your back on the mattress, his finger rubbing your clit to bring you to your orgasm.
And he did successfully bring you to it. He did with what seemed to sound like a painful groan of your name from his throat, a husky sound that made your pussy and legs quiver. But that didn’t stop Jungkook from lapping at the cum that dripped out.
You let out a big breath, making yourself bounce on the bed as you fell to it. Exhausted. Spent.
"Kook,” you nudged Jungkook with your foot to his bicep because he was doing that thing again.
“Wanna clean you up."
You roll your eyes. It was so counterproductive but you let him be for awhile, relaxing on your back as he quite literally slurped the gush that came and is still coming out from you. That was why him "cleaning you up” was useless.
“Let me suck your cock.” You said, nudging him again. Jungkook peeled his head from between your legs and looked at you, and you nearly moaned at finally seeing his face. He looked insanely hot with his hair around his sweaty hearline pulled by that head band, but the sheen gloss all over his mouth to his chin made you feel just a little shy.
“Really?” Jungkook asked again, eyes wide, like he was a kid about to receive his gifts from Santa on Christmas morning.
You only hummed, bringing your body in a sitting position. Jungkook grabbed your waist, about to kiss you, but you pushed him on the bed and slid your leg over his thighs, leaning down to make quick work of pulling his boxers down that had a little wet patch on the front and a huge boner that was just begging to be freed.
Jungkook sighed when you get a hold of his length, not wasting time to tease because as much as you wanted to, you were impatient to taste him and make him cum.
“F-fuck,” Jungkook curses as you pumped his cock, your thumb pressing on his leaking tip. “You’re so pretty, baby."
His groan is elongated as you finally put him in your mouth. You make yourself comfortable by kneeling inside his spread legs, leaning down closer to his crotch and twisting your head to the side so that you could gather your hair in one side. It was always hard to reach deep, but you make do of your hand, twisting your fingers around the remaining length that your mouth could not take.
It didn’t take too long for Jungkook to shake and start speaking sweet nonsense in the wake of his impending orgasm, probably because he had been holding back since he ate you out. But you worked as hard, sucking on his tip, brushing your fingers over his balls here and there, pumping his wet cock in your hand, ignoring the tears that’s forming in the corners of your eyes.
“Baby, I’m cumming,” he warned, holding the back of your head to try and get you off but you insisted and let him release in your mouth.
Jungkook hissed, and you leaned back to jerk his cock for any more cum, swallowing the one in your mouth that you felt had gotten to some parts of your face so you try to lick over your mouth, tasting cum there. He was still cumming, though, just a little, it spurting on your chest and chin.
You giggled as Jungkook groaned. When you were sure you milked him dry, you let yourself flop on his naked body, draping yourself over it even though he was kind of sweaty and sticky… but you don’t really mind. You were just gonna shower later.
“You’re a minx.” He said, chuckling, his arm going around your waist and the other resting over one bare ass cheek.
“I live to make you suffer.” you replied, rubbing your cheek against his chest then pressing kisses to it.
“You’re winning."
That made you laugh.
After a while, you remove your head on his chest and look down on him. He arches a brow, waiting. And then you dropped your mouth to the mole under his bottom lip. You giggled because Jungkook wasn’t expecting it, shown by the confusion on his face. Before he could say anything, you lock your lips with his, sighing when he reciprocated your kiss right away.
The kiss takes a U-turn as Jungkook flipped you over so he was the one hovering over you now, hands roaming around your body sending tingles all over your spine to your toes and heat between your legs as he squeezed your breasts.
He squished the both of them in his huge palms, and you feel his cock twitch against your thigh when he did so, so as the gush of wetness coming from your pussy as he finally dropped his mouth to suck on your pebbled nipples.
”___, are you—oh my god I’m so sorry!“
Jungkook and you quickly looked over your door, catching Nayeon just as she scrambled to close it.
"Shit.” You hissed.
Jungkook looked at you. And then you both get off of each other, him going for the sweats he’d folded on a swivel chair in your room, and you putting on your robe and messily tying your hair in a bun with a hair tie.
“I’m just gonna go outside and talk to her…” you trail off, watching as Jungkook puts his pants on.
“Okay,” he went over to you, holding your face and leaning down to kiss you. “Sorry."
You licked your lips as he broke the kiss, couldn’t help but smile.
"It’s fine."
When you went out, Nayeon is at the kitchen drinking water. When she saw you, you gave her an awkward smile.
She frowned. "I’m really so, so sorry, ___. I swear I didn’t know you had someone over. I just got back from the overnight study group I texted you about last night and it’s 8 am so I thought I could wake you up for class."
You find yourself smiling genuinely at her explanation. You wave her off and went over to grab a drink of water as well.
"It’s fine. Our prof actually emailed us last night that our 8 am class was gonna be cancelled today so technically my first class is gonna be at 10. But I’m also supposed to be getting ready, so…"
Nayeon hummed and drank more of her water.
You were just waiting for it. You knew she was so gonna ask you about it. You were kind of nervous but you found that you actually didn’t care that much to tell her all about Jungkook.
So when she finally did ask, you only looked sheepish.
"So, Jeon Jungkook, huh?"
You nod.
"I should’ve known!” Nayeon exclaimed. “You were suddenly interested about basketball and– no, I’m not gonna lie. I did not expect that."
You bit your lip as you hid half of your face behind the rim of the glass. "Yeah…"
Nayeon suddenly narrowed her eyes at you, and you hold yourself to prepare for what’s next.
"He was your sneaky link all this time?"
Your eyes widened. "No!” But then you quickly remembered that, technically, he was. But… “but not really. I mean, not anymore?"
You weren’t sure, though. Your relationship with Jungkook for the past month had undergone a shift. You were purely fuck buddies before, and now you fuck and see each other for more than that. You sleep over almost twice a week at his place, have movie nights. He let you know about this game Animal Crossing and you’ve been obsessed since so sometimes you really just go over his place to play it. (Your island was seriously becoming pretty.) Also, you started grabbing lunch regularly these days in his car and go on what you can call dates if both your schedule aligned and it’s not that you were actively keeping other people from knowing about this sudden change in your relationship, including Nayeon, it was just — your time together was really just spent for pure enjoyment with each other. It was just like: if people saw, then they do.
Despite that, a label still wasn’t put to it.
You don't mind.
"Oh, so–your boyfriend?!” Nayeon’s tone is laced with surprise, and you flinched at hearing the word boyfriend but you shrugged it off.
“Uhm, it’s very new.” Was what you replied. It was the only thing you could offer, honestly.
Your friend looked at you for a few seconds and then nods, as if understanding – what? you have no idea – and then turned to the direction to your room.
You see Jungkook popping out from your door when you looked over.
“Hi, Nayeon."
When he emerged, he’s fully dressed and it was a bummer that he’d taken out his head band. Whatever, you’d make him wear it later. It was really cute when he wore it.
"Ohh, here comes the sexy man."
The casualty of it threw you off a bit but then you suddenly feel grateful to Nayeon for not making a big deal about the whole thing.
So you laughed and joked, "Don’t say that! You’re going to stroke his ego."
Nayeon’s right eyebrow raised. "Oh, his ego is definitely getting stroked, alright."
Even Jungkook burst out laughing at the crude implications of her words, and you found the whole thing atrocious. Nayeon only shook her head, but she was smiling.
"Sorry for interrupting your time together, lovebirds. I brought something for breakfast but I don’t think it’ll be enough for two people.” She said, pointing towards a take-out bag on the kitchen counter.
“It’s fine, thanks Nayeon."
She waved you off. "I’ll just be in my room. Eat first before you do cardio, guys."
You huff out a laugh at her words again, and so did Jungkook. He walked towards you as Nayeon disappeared in her room, and you smiled at him as he did so.
Jungkook held your waist and pressed you a little to the refrigerator, but you have no complaints in the way he leaned down to share a slow and soft kiss with you.
"Breakfast?” He whispered, kissing your cheek. And then your nose.
You giggled, circling your arms around his neck. He hummed at the contact, like he’s always so content and peaceful whenever you touch him.
“I think I’ll just get coffee on my way to Uni.” you told him.
That made him frown, though. “That’s really not…” you arched your brow as you wait for him to finish his words. He sighed. “Okay. But at least eat some toast? I’ll make it for you."
You nod. "Okay. I’m gonna go shower first, though. I stink."
As if prompted, Jungkook quickly buried his face to the crook of your neck and whiffed out your scent, dramatically smelling you and then peeling his face away, saying, "Nope, still smell like flowers to me. But I agree, we need a shower."
"We?"
He gives you a serious look. "Yes. Water conservation is one of my goals this year."
You jab on his chest lightly. So stupid. But so handsome and cute that you can’t help but pull him close to you and kiss him again.
Suddenly, Jungkook grabbed your thighs and make you hold on to him as he carried you across the living room. You stopped your own squeal before you could scare Nayeon with it. Jungkook laughed at that and you slap his chest in retaliation.
He went straight to the bathroom and put you on the counter with all the intentions to keep making out with you by the way he was swirling his tongue deliciously against yours, hands squeezing your sides.
But you really had to shower.
He whined when you put your hands on his shoulders and broke free from his kiss, pushing him away a little.
"Don’t be a baby. Let’s shower,” you said, giving him a stern look. He looked petulant for a while, but then suddenly smirked. You narrowed your eyes, pretty sure he had dirty things in his head right now. “No funny business. You literally have class in an hour."
"I could make you cum in less than that."
"Jungkook!"
He laughed, kissing you. "I’m kidding.”
“Behave. Nayeon is here."
He only nodded and began taking his clothes off. You also removed your robe from your body, going over to the towel rack to hang it there. Jungkook stopped in his tracks and shamelessly ogled your naked form and you rolled your eyes, not waiting for him as you stepped in the shower first. He followed right after, smiling at you as he offered to wash your body.
Jungkook assured you he had no funny business in mind, but you didn’t really mind when his hands suddenly got grabby, when he told you that his hands could lather your body wash more effectively than your loofah just so he could massage your boobs in his soapy palms, staying a little too long over there. But you didn’t complain when his finger ghosted over your pussy, and you absolutely weren’t mad when he kissed you hotly as the shower ran and water soaked the soap suds out of your body.
In fact, you enjoyed it a lot when he pressed you against the wall while his strong arms held you tight as he fucked you open, gasping in your mouth, grunting about how pretty you were and how much you were such a good girl for him.
He spoke more nonsense in your ear when he turned you around, an arm tight around your breasts, his other hand gripping your waist as he slid his engorged cock in and out of you from behind while you tried to minimize the sound of your cries until you both came.
You know Jungkook knew his goal to conserve water was doomed from the very start, especially when you ended up taking a second shower because you felt sticky and just unclean.
But it felt great to come out of the bathroom and have Jungkook dressed the same time as you with the clothes he left in your closet from the other times he’s spent over here.
"I’ll see you later.” He pressed a quick kiss on your mouth.
“Okay,” he smiled and you failed to resist the urge to kiss him again for the last time. “I’m coming over to play Animal Crossing."
"You only like me for my Nintendo…” Jungkook jokingly narrowed his eyes at you and you laughed.
“It took you a long time to figure out?”
Jungkook pouts. “As long as you curl up in my lap while you play it, I can accept that.”
“You’re cute, baby. But you’re late to class, go scram.” You shooed him and he chuckled.
“Okay, kiss me again?” You did. Jungkook smiled and kissed you but on the forehead this time. “Bye, pretty."
You leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed as you watched him slowly disappear from your pathway with (certainly) a fond look on your face.
Blurring the lines with your fuck buddy might be cliche, and confronting it might have been hard, but you did it. And he was just as willing and honest with you about his feelings.
you’re done watching girls shoot their shot with your man. this time, you let them know. or, better yet, hear.
🦌⋆⁺₊❅. christmas & chill: instalment 2 of 6
pairing drummer!jk x secret situationship fem!reader
genre fwb2l, angst, fluff, smut 18+ mdni
content jk 25 | yn 22, bratty oc, jk knows how to handle her, jk is in an alt rock band with jinnie and yoongs, tae is jk's best friend & oc's confidant, vmin are bfs, jk spoils oc, babygirl just wants to be cuffed, ruined christmas plans, oc whines a bit, oc gives jk the cold shoulder for approx 7 mins before folding bc… idk dick too good i guess, jealousy (both parties, more so oc's side), neither of them entertain it tho, fwb but like exclusive ones because cmawn… it's me, kissing, grinding, groping, big tiddy reader, big tiddy sucking, sm dirty talk & praise, quick bj, cunnilingus, choking if u blink, oc gets fucked w his drumsticks, and then his cock, condomless p in v sex, oc is on birth control, clothed sex, sub dom dynamics, daddy kink, a little tiny bit of squirting i think, creampie, happy but very abrupt ending sorryyy
word count 8.9k
banner by the lovely @awrkive ⟡ ݁₊ .
North Star Pavilion, Seoul
Christmas lights twinkle across the city, their warm glow mocking the chill in your chest. Everything feels like too much—too cold, too noisy, too far from what you actually wanted today. What you were promised.
The van door slams shut behind you, the biting breeze nipping at your skin as your boots crunch against the icy gravel.
Jungkook follows close behind, his shoes scuffing against the ground as he jogs to catch up.
“Baby,” he calls softly, reaching for your hand. But you shrug him off, your arms folding tightly over your chest as you keep moving toward the back entrance of the venue.
Jungkook lets out a heavy sigh, his breath visible in the icy air. “Come on, baby,” he murmurs, his tone dipping into that pleading softness that always makes you want to fold. “Y/n, I had to—”
“I’ll see you after the show, J.”
Your voice comes clipped and cold as you cut him off, not bothering to look back. His soft footsteps falter, and you can feel his eyes fixed on you.
For a brief, brief moment, something in you threatens to crack.
But you don’t let it.
The angry stomp of your boots against frozen pebbles drowns out anything he might have said as you disappear through the back, weaving through the venue without so much as a glance in Jungkook’s direction.
The warmth of the building barely registers. It isn’t enough to thaw the stubborn frost clinging to your chest as you move down the hall, barely nodding at the familiar faces of the staff who greet you in passing.
Eventually, you find an empty corridor, the hum of the growing crowd muffled by the walls. Leaning back against the cool tile, you tip your head back and let out a bitter scoff.
This isn’t how today is supposed to fucking go.
Rolling your eyes, you dig your hand into your pocket and pull out your phone, desperate for a distraction. But the memory you’ve been avoiding all day slips in anyway—very vivid and very unwelcome.
Yesterday, you’d been curled up on your couch, your legs draped lazily over Jungkook’s lap as the soft glow of the tiny Christmas tree on your coffee table lit up the room. It had become a routine of sorts—the quiet calm after his shows, a pocket of peace that felt like yours and his alone.
Jungkook’s tattooed fingers traced idle patterns over your calf, the gentle pressure soothing against your bare skin. You were warm and sleepy from the shower you’d shared earlier, your body clad in a little sleep shirt and panties. Jungkook, in his sweats and no shirt, smelled faintly of your shampoo, his long, damp hair falling loose around his face.
It was all so soft, so cozy, so domestic.
So fucking stupid.
You caught him staring, his gaze steady and quiet, that intensity in his dark eyes making your stomach do that stupid flippy thing.
“Watcha lookin’ at, creepy?” you squinted, nudging his stomach with your foot.
Jungkook’s lips twitched as he shook his head, his fingers still lazily stroking your leg. “Nothing,” he hummed, but his gaze lingered a moment longer before he dropped it back to his phone.
You tossed your own phone to the side, crawling onto his lap with a light shove to his shoulder. He grunted softly as you shifted over him when he lay down, his hands instinctively finding your thighs as you flopped against his chest.
“You okay?” you murmured into his neck, your fingers brushing softly over his collarbone.
“Very,” he replied, his voice low, his big hand sliding up to smooth over and cup your ass.
You smiled into his skin, pressing a kiss to his neck. “I bought us Christmas pajamas,” you mumbled, your lips brushing against his pulse.
Jungkook paused for a moment, then let out a quiet laugh, his fingers stilling briefly before resuming their lazy path. “Did you?”
“Yup,” you said, smirking. “Try not to wear them, and your ass is spending Christmas alone.”
His laugh deepened, his hand slipping beneath the hem of your panties to rub slow, little circles over the curve of your skin. “I’ll wear them, baby,” he promised.
“Know you will,” you whispered, your teeth grazing lightly against his neck.
His head tilted, granting you more access as a low, soft grunt rumbled from his throat, the sound enough to make you press closer.
You were ready to tease him further, your tongue lazily flicking over his pulse, when his phone buzzed loudly on the couch beside you.
He shifted, reaching for it with one hand while his other stayed firmly on your thigh, absently stroking your skin. You pressed your cheek against his shoulder, eyes closed, soothed by the soft, lispy cadence of his voice.
Until you heard it.
“North Star fucking Pavilion, bro! On Christmas Day!” The Spine Breakers’ lead singer’s voice crackled through the speaker. “The check is insane, JK!”
Jungkook sighed heavily, his grip tightening slightly on your thigh. “I already have plans, Jin-hyung—”
“We need you, man,” Yoongi, his bass player, cut in. “You’re our drummer. We can’t do this without you, dude...”
The air shifted. You felt it before you even opened your eyes.
“Fuck,” Jungkook groaned. You could feel his gaze on you, hesitant, like he was waiting for you to intervene. But you didn’t. You stayed still, letting him make his choice.
“Fuckin—okay, okay, hyung,” he muttered into the phone, his voice resigned as he cut off Jin’s begging. “I’ll do it.”
The second the call ended, you climbed off him, ignoring the hand that reached for you, brushing off the way he called your name. The bedroom door slammed angrily behind you.
He followed, of course.
Jungkook dropped down on the bed beside you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he tried to apologize, his voice soft and pleading. But you didn’t respond. Didn’t even look at him. You fell asleep facing the wall, his hand still resting on your stomach.
And now, here you are.
Not curled up on the couch, watching a stupid Christmas movie like you had planned. Not eating takeout, because neither of you can cook for shit. Not sneaking up to the roof to get holiday high together.
No. Instead, you’re standing in a cold, empty hallway of one of Seoul’s biggest holiday locales, the muffled roar of the crowd growing louder behind the door to your left.
The hem of your winter dress shifts as you fidget, the festive vibe of your outfit doing little to match the storm in your chest. At least it’s black. That’s, like, emo, right?
Whatever.
Merry fucking Christmas. And fuck Jeon Jungkook.
The crowd thickens as you weave through, the bass of the background music vibrating under your boots with every step. People press in on all sides, the noise a tangled mess of cheers and shuffling feet. You don’t let it faze you, your eyes scanning the mass for a familiar figure.
The closer you get to the side stage, the more recognizable faces appear—crew members rushing around, regular staff you’ve seen countless times at past shows. But it’s not until your gaze catches on a mop of black hair that some of the tension in your shoulders finally lifts.
You spot your boy...friend’s best friend leaning against a speaker, his ear piercings glinting under the scattered lights. A plastic Christmas wreath headband sits snugly atop his neatly straightened curls, and the corner of your lips quirks up despite yourself.
He notices you before you reach him, a grin spreading across his face as he lifts the beer bottle in his hand in greeting.
By the time you push through the last cluster of people, your gaze flicking over his ripped jeans and the artful layering of his black shirts, he’s already stepping forward to wrap you in a hug.
“Ah,” Taehyung says, giving you a once-over, his brows wiggling as he pulls back. “We’re matching.”
You glance down at your black-on-black outfit, then at his. “I’m in a mood,” you roll your eyes, though a quiet laugh escapes.
Taehyung hums knowingly, offering you the spare beer in his other hand. You take it, cracking the cap before taking a long sip. Your gaze flicks toward the stage, where crew members scurry to finish sound checks and tune the equipment.
“It’s fucking packed,” he comments, nodding toward the crowd, which seems to grow thicker by the second. “J said tickets sold out in minutes.”
You hum noncommittally, your focus still fixed on the stage. “Of course they did. It’s Christmas, and these emos don’t have anything better to do.”
Taehyung snickers, leaning in to nudge your shoulder. “And your excuse? No Christmas plans…?”
You shoot him a glare, taking another sip of beer as he raises his hands in mock defense.
“Still haven’t made up yet?” he prods, his tone teasing, knowing.
“Nope,” you huff, the sound bratty as your gaze flicks around the venue. “I’m ignoring him until Valentine’s Day. And if I’m not cuffed by then, I’m castrating the motherfucker.”
He shakes his head, laughing under his breath. “Why not just ask him to go steady again?”
“Because,” you grumble, pointing the neck of your beer bottle at him, “he’s the one who doesn’t want me seeing other guys. So, he can ask me.”
Taehyung arches a brow, taking a slow sip of his drink. “Didn’t you also say you didn’t want him fucking with other chicks?”
“Shut up,” you huff, giving him a halfhearted shove as he laughs again.
The minutes pass as the venue comes alive, the energy thickening the air around you with heat. The chatter grows louder, the crowd swelling until it feels like the walls are pulsing. You and Taehyung stand shoulder to shoulder, unfazed by the chaos. You’ve done this too many times before—waiting at the edge of the stage, watching the lights dim as the band take their places.
You hadn’t met Jungkook through Taehyung, though. You’d met Taehyung first at one of their early performances, back when The Spine Breakers were barely on anyone’s radar.
It had been a little bar in the city, the kind of place where the beer was watered down and the sound system was a half-step away from blowing out. You’d gone with your friend Marcy, both of you already knowing a good chunk of TSB's songs before the first chord even played.
Most of the crowd back then hadn’t been as familiar, more there for the vibe than the band. You’d been a few rows back, swaying to the music, when Taehyung walked by and stumbled into you, spilling half his beer onto your skirt.
He’d been flustered, apologizing immediately and offering to buy you another drink as yours dropped on the ground. When you’d rolled your eyes and waved him off, turning back to Marcy without much more than a shrug, he hadn’t used it as an excuse to keep bothering you. Sad as it might sound, that had caught your attention—guys who actually took a hint were fucking rare.
He’d genuinely seemed sorry, even offering to hold your place if you wanted to head to the bathroom to clean up. You’d given him a once-over, told him it didn’t bother you, and pulled him into your little huddle instead.
By the end of the night, Taehyung was dancing to the music beside you and Marcy, and when the set ended, he asked if you wanted to come backstage to meet the band. You’d told him to shut the fuck up, convinced he was joking.
He wasn’t.
That was the first time you’d seen Jungkook up close. The first time you’d stared a little too long at the drummer with the intriguingly quiet intensity and ink-covered arms that you wanted to run your tongue along.
While Marcy hit it off immediately with Tae—bonding over their matching daith piercings or whatever—the pull between you and Jungkook had been something else entirely.
Maybe you’ve been to every single one of his shows since then. Maybe you took a gap year from college, picking up shifts at a club in town to cover your rent while Jungkook paid for everything else. Maybe you’ve only been with one other guy in the 449 days you’ve known him—and that was way back, in the early days, before it all started to feel like this.
Maybe.
Taehyung’s voice cuts through your thoughts, his tone casual but his smile teasing. “You’re doing it again,” he quips, nudging you lightly with his elbow.
“Sorry,” you say quickly, clearing your throat as your gaze flickers back to the stage. Jungkook’s seated behind his drum set now, a crew member leaning in close as she adjusts his mic stand.
“S’okay,” Taehyung replies with a quiet laugh, raising his bottle to his lips. He leans back against the speaker, his grin softening. “You guys wanna come over for drinks after the show? Jiminie made Christmas pudding.”
You blink, your focus still trained on Jungkook as the staff member smiles at him, her mouth moving—maybe asking if he was okay, if he needed anything else. His tongue flicks over his lip rings, his head tilting slightly as he shakes it in response.
She lingers.
He gives her a dismissive, doe-eyed look from under his lashes, his dimple peeking out as he shakes his head again. Finally, she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, glances around quickly, and scurries backstage.
Slut. The both of them.
Your lips press into a line, your eyes narrowing as you take another sip of beer. “Sure, I’ll come,” you mutter half-heartedly to Taehyung without taking your eyes off Jungkook.
His gaze catches yours from the stage.
You look away.
The crowd roars as Jin takes the mic, yelling out a quick greeting before launching right into their set.
The music is electric, Yoongi's smooth, heavy bass and Jungkook’s crisp, pounding drumming vibrating through your chest as the band plays. You can’t help but let your body move with Jin's voice, nodding your head along as Taehyung sways beside you, the beer in his hand getting lower by the minute.
Halfway through the third song, a guy squeezes his way through the crowd toward you and Taehyung. At first, you don’t think much of it—packed shows like this always mean a little too much physical closeness. But when he stops right next to you, leaning in far closer than necessary, his intentions become annoyingly clear.
“Hey,” he shouts, his voice barely cutting through the music.
You glance at him briefly, tilting your head and pursing your lips before looking back at the stage.
The guy doesn’t get the message—or maybe he doesn’t care. “You here alone?”
You shake your head shortly, keeping your eyes fixed on the stage. “Nope.”
Taehyung notices the exchange but doesn’t intervene, his gaze flicking between you and the guy as he sips his drink.
The guy leans in again, louder this time, more insistent. “You want another drink?”
You roll your eyes, stepping closer to Taehyung. “I’m good,” you say flatly, your tone leaving no room for interpretation.
From the stage, you notice Jungkook’s playing start to shift. His drumming grows heavier, each strike more intense than usual. Your gaze flicks to him, catching the way his eyes keep darting toward your spot in the crowd.
Exhaling through your nose, you swap places with Taehyung in an attempt to move out of the guy’s line of sight. Taehyung’s grin fades into something firmer when he notices.
Taehyung lowers his beer, turning to the guy, his taller frame blocking the dude’s view of you entirely. “You good, man?”
The guy hesitates, visibly weighing his options. He looks like he wants to argue but ultimately decides against it, laughing under his breath before slipping back into the crowd.
Taehyung watches him walk off, shaking his head before leaning closer. “You alright, Y/n?”
You nod, offering a light rub on his arm in thanks, but your attention is already back on Jungkook. He’s still looking, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as he watches you.
The last notes of the set fade into a wave of screams as the stage becomes a field of tossed roses and stray undergarments. Jin, as always, makes a show of it, crouching to pick up a red lace bra and biting down on the strap with a cheeky grin. His bandmates laugh as the crowd loses their shit, Yoongi shaking his head as Jin winks into the audience.
They bask in the chaos for a moment longer, waving to the crowd before the elder two begin to slip offstage. Jungkook lingers behind, his hands braced on his knees as he catches his breath. He drags a hand through his damp hair, pushing it back as he straightens to his full height, chest rising and falling in exertion.
Just before he steps off, his eyes find yours. His gaze drags, a quick once-over, a slow run of his tongue over his lip rings, a subtle sniff of his nose. Then he’s gone, following his bandmates backstage.
Taehyung nudges your arm lightly. “Ready?”
You hum, nodding as you start making your way through the crowd, the buzz of energy still heavy in the air. The hallway to the dressing rooms is dim, much quieter than the rest of the venue.
Up ahead, you spot Jin and Yoongi walking a few steps ahead of Jungkook. They’re laughing at something, their figures disappearing around the corner. Jungkook trails behind them, dragging his hand through his hair again, the motion automatic.
Then you see her.
The staff girl from earlier is struggling with a speaker, her grip tight on the handle as she drags it down the hallway. When she glances up and spots Jungkook, her face lights up instantly.
Your steps slow without thinking, your gaze locking on her as she stops beside him. There’s a shy tilt to her smile as she offers him the water bottle balanced on top of the speaker. Jungkook takes it with a murmured thank you, cracking the seal and tipping it back, like he’s barely aware of her lingering.
But she doesn’t move.
She starts talking instead, her pace quickening to match his as he walks. Her cheeks flush slightly as she speaks, her eyes flicking up at him now and then like she’s gauging his mood.
Taehyung shifts beside you, his gaze flickering between you and the scene unfolding a few feet ahead. You can feel his curiosity, but you don’t acknowledge it. Your eyes stay glued to Jungkook.
Jungkook, whose head tilts slightly as he glances back at the girl, then forward at his bandmates. You catch the faintest crease in his brow before he slows his steps and eventually stops altogether.
The girl stumbles slightly at his sudden halt, her grip on the speaker slipping. Jungkook’s hands dart out instinctively, but she catches herself before he touches her. He pulls back quickly, murmuring, “You okay?”
“Yeah, uh, yeah. Sorry, I’m such a klutz sometimes,” she replies, her voice flustered.
Your lips press into a thin line as you watch, something sharp curling in your stomach.
He’s not doing anything, you tell yourself. He didn’t even touch her.
But he would’ve if she hadn’t caught herself, a snide voice in the back of your head sneers, cutting through your logic.
You shake off the thought, ignoring the way your chest tightens as Jungkook shifts. His hand brushes over his jaw while she continues speaking, her words softer now.
You don’t hear much after that. It’s not because the hallway is loud—it’s not. It’s the pounding of your pulse in your ears, drowning out everything else.
Jungkook finishes the bottle of water, twisting the cap back on with a quick flick of his wrist. “I gotta go,” he says, lifting the empty bottle as a gesture of thanks before brushing past her.
She hesitates, her hand still on the speaker’s handle as she watches him walk away. Her face burns red, and she fidgets slightly, but eventually, she turns back to her task, dragging the speaker further down the hall.
Your eyes stay fixed on Jungkook as he reaches the dressing room door. His free hand lifts to wipe the sweat from his face with the bottom hem of his shirt, the toned lines of his stomach flashing briefly before the fabric falls back into place. The drumsticks clutched in his other hand tap lightly against the now-empty bottle as he disappears inside.
Taehyung pulls your attention back, rubbing your arm soothingly before nodding toward the door. “You coming?”
You nod quickly, shaking off the haze that lingers as you follow him down the hall.
The dressing room is warm and noisy, Jin and Yoongi sprawled out like they’ve been there for hours. Yoongi greets you with a rare smile, handing you a can of seltzer as you lean down to hug them both. Jin, already halfway through his beer, ruffles your hair affectionately before leaning back into the couch like he’s clocking out for the night.
You drop down beside Jungkook, your usual spot on his lap notably left empty. His brow furrows immediately, the arm around your waist tightening slightly as he tries to pull you closer to him.
“No, J,” you mutter, giving him a pointed look.
He grumbles under his breath, clearly displeased, but his hand slips down to link with yours instead. His thumb brushes idly over your knuckles, and for now, he settles.
The conversation flows around you as Taehyung throws out an invitation to his place. “Jimin’s been baking all day,” he says. “And we’ve still got drinks leftover from the other night.”
It’s an easy yes from everyone. The energy in the room shifts, a slow wind-down as cans and bottles are finished and the band starts getting ready to head out.
When you stand, Taehyung catches your arm, pulling you aside as Jungkook follows, his arm still firmly around your waist. “Hey, just wanna make sure you’re okay,” he says, his head tilted in slight concern.
Jungkook frowns, his gaze falling to your face. “Why wouldn’t she be? Did something happen?”
Taehyung glances at you, waiting for permission before answering. After you shrug and turn to Jungkook, Taehyung speaks. “Some dude wouldn’t leave her alone earlier,” he says simply.
Jungkook’s jaw tightens, his grip around your waist firming. Your hand squeezes his as you tilt your head at Taehyung. “I’m really okay, Tae, but thank you for looking out for me.”
Taehyung studies you for a moment longer, then nods. “Always.” He pulls you into a quick hug before doing the same with Jungkook. “Jimin’s waiting outside. You guys need a ride back to our place?”
Your gaze shifts to Jungkook. He stays quiet, his tongue working the inside of his cheek, eyes unfocused.
“We’ll come together,” you answer after a beat.
Taehyung nods, flashing you both a smile before heading for the door. The room empties out slowly after that, the others trailing behind Taehyung until it’s just you and Jungkook left in the quiet.
You glance at Jungkook as you shift on your feet. “Do you want me to order an Ub—”
“What did he do?”
You look up, his jaw tight as he stares at you. “That guy,” he starts again, quieter now, his words laced with tension. “Did he do something to you? Are you okay? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“J,” you sigh, shaking your head. “It was nothing. Just some loser.”
He watches you carefully, his eyes searching for something you’re not sure he’ll find. “And you’re okay?”
“I’m okay,” you nod.
His frown doesn’t relent as he closes the space between you in a few slow steps. His voice dips lower as he murmurs, “Fucking hate seeing guys trying to get with you, Y/n… not knowing you’re mine—”
Your eyes roll before you can stop yourself. “Let’s not do this right now, J.”
His brows pinch. “Really?”
“Yeah, really,” you bite back, your tone a little sharper. “Especially not when you’ve got bitches crawling all over you, and I can’t do anything about it.”
“Baby—”
“No, like this is so fucked, Jungkook. I’m tired of it. You promised me a cute night tonight, and I didn't get it. Fuck you.”
His teeth tug at his lip ring as he shakes his head, ready to apologize again, but you’re not done.
“And what about her? That slutty mic tech or whatever the fuck she is, leaning down with her tits all in your face? Or just so happening to have a fresh bottle of water ready for you backstage? God, don’t.”
“Fuck, you’re so hot when you’re jealous—”
“And then you do this!” you whine, throwing your hands up. “I’m tired of it, J. If I’m just another one of your groupies, what the fuck ever. But don’t be surprised when I go find someone who—”
His voice cuts through your rant with a hum. “Someone who what?”
He’s right in front of you now, so close that you have to tilt your head back to meet his gaze. His eyes flick between yours, waiting for an answer you don’t fucking have.
“You want someone else, baby?” he presses, his voice dropping even further.
Your lips twist, a bratty huff escaping as your frustration crumbles under his intensity. “No, you fucking asshole.”
His head tilts, his lips quirking into something between a smirk and a grin. “No?” he mocks lightly, his tone teasing, coaxing.
“No,” you mumble, quieter this time.
He hums, leaning closer, his hand lifting to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger, grazing the side of your face as his gaze softens, his teasing edge dissolving into something heavier.
“And what do you want, baby?”
You blink, your eyes flicking to the thick line of his arm beside your face, his cologne and sweat mixing into something intoxicating. It fills your lungs, dizzying you more than you want to admit.
“You, idiot,” you mumble. “Want you.”
His lips twitch as he leans down, his voice a low hum against your mouth. “Y’wanna be mine, baby?”
Your eyes flutter shut, your body tilting toward him like it’s instinctual. His mouth grazes yours, soft and teasing, like he’s pretending to give you a choice.
But you know better.
There is no choice. It’s him. It’s always been him.
His lips press fully against yours, damp and plush from the way he’s been licking over them all night between backing vocals. You melt into the kiss, your hands slipping under the hem of his shirt to press against the warm, slightly sticky skin of his back. He leans in closer, jaw tilting as his tongue coaxes your mouth open. You keen softly, sucking the muscle between your lips and savoring the low groan he gives in return.
Then you pull back.
His eyes blink open slowly, a haze clouding his dark irises as he stares down at you.
“Do you want that?” you ask softly, tilting your head.
“Do I want you to be mine?” he echoes, his brows lifting slightly, his head shaking like the question is absurd.
You give him a pointed look, nodding just enough to make it bratty.
“I thought you were already mine,” he murmurs, his hands sliding down your dress. His touch is reverent, his gaze dipping over you as a satisfied grunt escapes his lips. “I’m already yours, baby..”
“Just mine,” you lean into his hold, your words brushing against his skin, “nobody else’s…”
“Just yours,” he nods firmly, leaning down to nudge his nose against yours, the softest smile tugging at his lips. “There’s been no one else since you, baby.”
The back of your neck tingles as his pretty nose drags along yours, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your pout before trailing down to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. His breath is warm, his lips brushing against your skin as he mumbles, “I just didn’t think you wanted the title…”
Your brows pull together, and your hands slide up to cup his face, tugging him back so you can look him in the eye. “I want the title.”
One corner of his mouth lifts into a crooked little smile, his head tilting just enough to press a kiss to your palm. “Okay,” he murmurs, his voice quiet but sure. “Then you can have it, angel.”
A hum of satisfaction escapes you, your hands squeezing his cheeks with a smile. He chuckles softly, leaning back down to steal another kiss, but you pull away before he can reach you.
“Oi,” he grumbles, the faintest pout forming on his lips. “Why? I want a kiss.”
Your hands drop from his face, crossing over your chest as you fix him with a look. “Ask me.”
His eyebrows shoot up, amusement flickering across his features. “What—? I thought we just—”
“No.” You huff, squinting at him as you take a step back, dodging his hands when he reaches for you. “I want the proper thing. I’ve been waiting so long for the girlfriend title. Ask me properly.”
Jungkook stares at you for a moment, his lips twitching as he fights back a groan at your cuteness. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” Your squint sharpens, your stance firm despite the way your heart jumps when his lips curve into a grin.
“Aishh,” he chuckles under his breath, shaking his head slightly before stepping closer. “Y/n,” he starts, voice soft but teasing, “will you be my girlf—”
“Yes!”
You don’t let him finish, grabbing the front of his shirt and yanking him down to meet your lips, cutting off the surprised huff he lets out. Your arms loop around his neck as you pull him in, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. His hands find your waist, steadying you, but you’re already slipping your tongue past his lips, swallowing the low groan he gives.
When you finally pull back for air, your breath is shaky, your lips humming. You stare at him, taking in his swollen mouth and the mess of his hair, his pupils blown wide they almost swallow the brown of his irises. He looks so good it’s almost fucking devastating.
“God, yes,” you murmur, your fingers brushing over his jaw before tugging him back down.
“You’re—okay with this—” Jungkook murmurs between heated kisses, his words coming in low breaths. “Your gap year’s almost over, baby—mmf—the distance… me being gone all the time?”
You pull back just enough to see his face, his dark eyes locking onto yours. His words hit you, and for a moment, all you can do is blink, your mind racing to keep up with the weight of what he’s asking.
“I can do my studies remotely,” you say finally, your voice soft but sure. Your hands slide up his shoulders as you tilt your head, searching his gaze for a hint of doubt. “I can…” You pause, swallowing as your heartbeat kicks up. “Like… travel with you, if you wanted—”
Jungkook surges forward, his lips claiming yours in a kiss that feels like he’s pouring every unspoken thought straight into your mouth. His hands grip your thighs, tugging you closer until your soft body’s pressed tight against him.
“Fuck,” Jungkook mutters, voice rough as his mouth moves against yours. The groan he lets out vibrates through you when you catch his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging lightly before letting it slip free. “I had no fucking idea, baby. I would’ve...”
You hum softly, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, your breath coming in quick. “Would’ve what?”
His fingers tighten on the curve of your ass, holding you steady as he leans in, his lips brushing yours. “Would’ve made you mine the first time I fucking took you, baby,” he murmurs, his tongue slipping back into your mouth.
A breathy laugh escapes as you lean into him, your hands threading through the damp strands of his hair. “So... the first night we met?” you tease, your voice swallowed by his eager mouth.
“Pretty much,” he chuckles against your lips, his tone low and sinful as his hands drop to the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up easily. Your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, and he carries you the few steps to the couch, dropping down with you prettily perched in his lap.
His lips find yours again, hungrier, wetter. His tongue pushes into your mouth, licking deep into you, chasing the tang of raspberry seltzer still lingering on your tongue. His hands roam higher, sliding over the fabric of your dress, fingertips pressing as they search for skin.
Without breaking the kiss, your fingers fumble with the little zip at the front of your jacket, the metallic sound making him pause. Jungkook leans back just slightly, his gaze dropping to your hands as you slide the zipper down. His tongue darts over his lip as the fabric falls away, leaving your corset-top barely holding your tits in place.
“Fuck,” he breathes, the word guttural. His eyes trail over your exposed skin, his hands moving on instinct to pull the hem of your dress down. The fabric drops, and your breasts spill free into his waiting hands, his thumbs eagerly brushing over your hardened nipples.
His mouth surges forward, latching onto your left nipple with a deep groan. He exhales through his nose, the sound almost a sigh, like his whole body just relaxed the second he had you in his mouth.
“God,” you whimper, your hips rolling against the bulge in his jeans, your hands gripping the back of his neck as you tilt your head back in pleasure.
“Fuck,” he grunts around your nipple, his wide tongue swirling over the peak before sucking gently. “These fucking tits,” he mutters, his voice thick as his hands knead the soft flesh. “Big, juicy fucking tits. All fucking mine, yeah?”
“Mmmh,” you whine, grinding harder as your fingers tug at the ends of his long hair, your thighs tightening around his hips. “All yours, Jungkookie. Always been yours.”
His cock twitches beneath you at the nickname, and his eyes flick up to your face. He coos through his mouthful before gently switching to your other bud.
“All mine,” he mumbles, the words muffled as he chews softly on your hard nipple, pulling a breathy moan from your lips. His big hands press your tits together, bringing them closer to his face, and he pulls back slightly to hum. “All daddy’s, isn’t that right, angel?”
“Nnnm,” you whine, your hips stuttering against him as the teasing tone has you clenching around nothing. “Yes, daddy. All yours. No one else’s.”
“Mm, that’s my girl.” His tongue flicks over your nipple one last time, pulling a soft gasp from your lips before his hand slides up to the front of your throat.
He brings you back down to his mouth, your tongues meeting immediately, wet and eager. His grip stays steady on your neck, thumb brushing softly along the sides as your hands bury deeper into his hair. The roll of your hips against his lap matches the rhythm of the kiss, each grind pulling a quiet groan from his throat that vibrates into your mouth.
The room is silent save for the wet, slick sounds of your lips and the rustle of your dampening panties against his jeans. Jungkook’s fingers tighten slightly around your neck, and you lean into it, moaning lowly when he catches your tongue between his teeth.
You pull back, your breaths uneven as you take hold of the wrist still resting at your throat, guiding it away. Your eyes meet his as you bring his hand to your lips, your tongue flicking over the tips of his middle fingers before sucking them into your mouth. No reason, really. Because you want to. Becaue you can.
Jungkook’s gaze stays heavy on you, his lids low as his tongue drags over his lip. You release his fingers with a soft pop, and he licks the remnants of your saliva from his hand when you let go.
Sliding off his lap, you reach for the zipper of his jeans, pulling it down with haste. You shimmy the denim over his hips, just far enough to bare his briefs. His cock presses against the black fabric, hard and thick, the sight alone making your stomach rumble.
Leaning down, you brush your lips over the length of him, the heat of his cock radiating through the cotton. A soft, hungry hum slips from you, and Jungkook groans quietly, his head tipping back against the couch.
One of his hands moves to the cushion beside him, the other slipping into your hair, brushing it back as you mouth over his covered cock.
Your hand slides under the waistband of his briefs, your lip catching between your teeth as his warm, hard length pulses against your palm. You pull him free, savoring the low curse that slips from his lips when you guide it to your lips and take the thick tip into your mouth.
“Shit, baby,” he huffs, his hips lifting slightly as your tongue swirls over the head.
“That’s it,” he mutters, his voice rough and breathy. “Get it nice and wet for daddy. Go on, baby.”
Your eyelids feel heavy as you obey, pushing spit to the front of your mouth and soaking his tip in it. The slick sound fill the quiet room, mixing with Jungkook’s sharp breaths and the low grunts slipping from his lips.
Your tongue moves slowly, wetting him nice and thoroughly, and his fingers twitch where they hold your hair out of your face. His head tips back further, a deep groan escaping as his hips up rock into your mouth on instinct.
Your lips work sloppily over his length as you take him deeper, your hand pumping the base as he groans low in his chest. “Good girl, baby,” he mutters, his fingers brushing the curve of your jaw as he watches you, his lashes heavy. “Such a good fucking girl.”
The praise makes you ache, the wetness pooling between your legs unbearable. Jungkook seems to sense it, his hand wrapping around your arm to pull you off him with a wet pop. His lips are on yours the moment you’re upright, licking into your mouth like he’s chasing his own taste on your tongue.
You melt against him, humming softly as his hands cup your waist, guiding you back until your spine presses into the couch. He hovers over you, his bigger frame warm between your parted thighs. Your boots dig into the cushions on either side of him, but he doesn’t care. Neither do you.
Jungkook’s hands are hasty as he pushes the fabric of your dress up your thighs, exposing the black lace stretched over your dripping core. His adam’s apple bobs as he hums, his thumb brushing over the darkened patch where your slick has seeped through.
“So pretty, baby,” he murmurs, pressing his tattooed thumb firmly against you. The friction makes you gasp, your hips jerking toward his hand.
The lace doesn’t last long. He hooks his fingers into the waistband and pulls it down just enough to expose you, wasting no time before dipping down. His mouth latches onto your pussy in one go, his wide tongue licking a slow, filthy stripe over your slit.
“Fuck,” you breathe, your hands flying to his hair. The heat of his mouth is overwhelming, his tongue teasing your swollen clit before dragging down to press at your entrance. He groans as he tastes you, sucking your folds into his mouth like a greedy fuck.
You whimper when his teeth graze your clit, his tongue circling the bud before flicking over it repeatedly. The wet, sloppy sounds of his lips and tongue working against your pussy fills the room, and your hips buck against his face—
“Uh… J-Jungkook?”
You freeze, your eyes snapping to the door as your blood runs cold.
There is no fucking way.
Jungkook doesn’t stop. If anything, his movements grow greedier, his mouth slurping noisily at your cunt as though he didn’t hear a thing.
You bite back a moan when the bitch's voice comes again, shaky and hesitant. “Sorry, uh… your friends got you a driver, and it’s—uh—can you hear me? Should I come in?”
Your hand tightens in Jungkook’s hair as his tongue presses deep into your dripping hole. “Tell her to fuck off,” you gasp, your voice pitching higher when his lips close around your clit. “Jung- fuck- Jungkook.”
He hums into your pussy, the vibration shooting through you as his tongue drags lower. “You do it, baby,” he murmurs, the words muffled by your slick folds. His lips press deeper you as he mumbles. “Tell her your boyfriend’s busy, hm?”
Jungkook’s mouth doesn’t falter, his jaw working as he fits as much of you into his mouth as he can, lips wrapping around your folds while his tongue drags over your clit. His jaw moves, sucking and licking, pulling sinful sounds from your throat like it’s his final fucking mission.
His hand fumbles to the side of the couch, searching for something, but you barely register it through the haze of pleasure. “Jungkook, seriously—”
The girl’s voice cuts through again, louder this time. “Uh, I don’t know if you can hear me, so I’m going to come in—”
Before the words fully register, you feel it. The slick, cool tip of a drumstick sliding into your cunt.
“Fuck!” The cry rips from your throat, loud and uncontrollable as your back arches off the couch. The stretch is sharp, sudden, but it has your toes curling, pleasure overtaking every thought as your grip tightens on his hair.
The sound outside the door ceases instantly, but you couldn’t give a fuck less.
Jungkook doesn’t stop, his tongue relentless as it flicks over your clit, fast and precise, his lips drenched as they lap at your soaked pussy. He glances up, watching you through his lashes, his big eyes dark as he gauges your reaction.
He’s slipped plenty of things inside you before—his fingers, his cock, even the handle of a vibrator… but never this. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a fantasy of his, something he’d thought about during one too many late-night practices when you were at home and he was missing you.
“That okay, baby?” he murmurs with a mouth full of pussy. His long fingers grip the drumstick firmly, holding it still, not pushing deeper until you give the green light. His thumb brushes the edge of your clit, adding another layer of friction as his tongue continues its work. “Gonna let daddy fuck you with it, baby?”
“Yesss,” you whine, your head lolling against the couch. Your thighs tremble around his head as you pant, the word spilling from your lips like a fucking prayer. “Yes, please, daddy. God, I fucking want it, baby, please.”
Jungkook groans into your cunt as he presses the drumstick deeper, the slick glide making your legs quake. His tongue continues it's soft, wet work against your clit, a little slower as he eases the stick into your hole.
He works it in deeper, his pace quickening with every breathy moan that falls from your lips. The smooth wood glides in and out of your pussy with ease, covered in your juices everytime it pulls out, and the angle he’s hitting has your back arching into his mouth, your thighs trembling around his head.
“Fuckk,” you gasp, your nails scratching into the couch, desperate for something to hold onto as the thin stick brushes your g-spot. “Fuck, daddy—”
He groans against you, his lips dragging over your clit before his tongue flicks faster and faster. “That good, baby?” He hums, “daddy making you feel good, hm?”
“So fucking gooodd,” you cry, your chest heaving, your hips chasing the movements of his hand as he thrusts the drumstick faster. Your walls clamp around it as your head spins, tears welling in your eyes.
Jungkook gives one more slurp before pulling back just enough to catch your fucked-out expression. His lips glisten with your slick, hair messy from your tugging. “Want the other one, baby?” he asks, voice honeyed with mockery as his thumb brushes over your clit.
You whimper without hesitation, your thighs clenching around his head. “Fuck, please, daddy. Please.”
“Mmm,” he hums in satisfaction, his tongue dragging a long, wet stripe over your clit as he reaches for the second stick.
You barely have a moment to prepare before the second one presses into you, your toes curling as he works it in beside the first. “Oh my fuck,” you choke, your head falling back against the couch.
Jungkook’s jaw clenches as he watches you, his hands tight around the sticks as he thrusts them together, slow at first, then faster. And faster.
His greedy mouth is back on you, his tongue lapping at your clit, wet and messy, the dirty, soppy sounds of his lips and the squelch of your pussy taking the drumsticks echoing in the room.
“Fuck,” you moan, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as your hips buck into his mouth. “Gonna fucking cum, daddy. So—fuck, uhhhhh!”
“That’s it, baby,” he growls, his lips wrapping around your swollen bud, sucking hard as he thrusts the drumsticks relentlessly into you. “Show that bitch who’s daddy’s girl, huh? Gonna cum on my tongue? On my drumsticks? ‘Cause only you can, huh baby? My fucking baby.”
Your whole body seizes at his words, your head snapping back as a strangled cry rips from your throat. Your vision blacks out, your body trembling violently as the orgasm rips through you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you sob, your walls clenching hard around the sticks as wetness gushes out, soaking his hand, his mouth, the couch beneath you. Jungkook groans loudly, his lips glued to your clit as he sucks you through it, his tongue flicking over the nub as you writhe beneath him.
“That’s my fucking girl,” Jungkook groans, his voice thick as he leans in for one last lick, dragging his tongue slowly up your pretty slit. He pulls back just enough to watch your pussy twitch, glistening and flushed, clenching around the sticks as you whimper weakly.
“Jungkookie,” you manage through trembling breaths, your body trembling under his heavy gaze. “Th-thank you, fuck.”
He hums against you, his big eyes darting up to meet yours as his lips curl into a satisfied smirk. “Any fucking time, baby, shitt.”
You shudder as he finally eases the drumsticks out of you, slick dripping from the tips as your thighs twitch. You watch through hooded eyes as he raises them to his lips, sucking your wetness off, the hollow of his throat bobbing at the sweet taste. Once clean, he tosses them carelessly to the side, licking over his lips as his gaze drops back down to your wrecked cunt.
“Messy girl,” he murmurs, voice low and teasing as his fingers trace over the sticky mess between your thighs.
Your eyes fall lower, catching the tip of his cock peeking out from the waistband of his briefs, red and dripping. Your breath catches, your hands instinctively sliding up his arms, tracing the ink there as your gaze stays locked on it.
Jungkook notices, his tongue running over his swollen lips as he chuckles. “You want it, baby?”
You swallow hard, your eyes flicking up to meet his through your lashes. “Please, daddy.”
He groans softly at the way you look at him, nodding before leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss. It’s so wet, everything is wet as your lips part to welcome his tongue when he licks into your mouth, giving you every bit of the taste of yourself. You suck greedily on his tongue, and he groans low in his chest, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer.
Your hands slide up to wrap around his neck, holding him as he reaches down between you, adjusting his briefs and pulling himself free. He pulls back slightly to look down as he drags the tip of his cock through your soaking folds, catching on your clit.
“Need to fuck you so bad, baby,” he mutters, his voice rasping with need. “Need you to feel how much I fucking love you.”
Your breath hitches, your hands tightening around his neck as his words hang between you. His cock stills against your entrance once he realizes what he just said, his head snapping up.
“You love me?” you whisper, your voice quiet as your gaze flicks between his eyes.
He blinks, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. Then, with a soft nod, he admits it. "So much, baby."
You beam, your face breaking into the brightest smile, and it’s enough to make his chest swell. You tug him down to you, pressing your lips to his in a wet, giddy kiss.
His lips are soft against yours, but the way he kisses you is anything but. It’s raw as his tongue slides against yours, his hands tightening around your waist, pouring himself into you.“I love you, J. Holy shittt, baby!!”
He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes scanning your face as he smiles, his lips red and swollen. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you whisper, so fucking giddy, your hands cradling his face as you lean up to kiss him again. “Now fuck me, please.”
He chuckles, the sound low and sweet before leaning down to press a kiss to your neck. His lips brush against your skin as he shifts, lining himself back up with your entrance.
The moment he pushes in, your breath catches. The stretch burns so good as he sinks into you slowly, his cock thick and pulsing, the loud, slick sound of your arousal filling the room as he bottoms out.
“Fuck,” Jungkook groans, his head falling forward as his hands grip your thighs. “So fucking wet, baby. You fucking feel that?”
“Y-yeah,” you stammer, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you adjust to the fullness. “So full, Jungkookie.”
He groans at the sound of his name, his hips pulling back before thrusting forward, a little harder this time. You gasp, your back arching into him as he sets a slow, deep pace, every thrust hitting you delicious and deep.
“So fucking good, baby,” he mutters, his voice thick with praise. “So perfect for me. Take me so well, always.”
Your hands find his hair, tugging at the strands as your head falls back, exposing your neck to him. He takes the opportunity, his lips finding your skin, sucking at the flesh as his thrusts grow faster.
The wet sounds of your bodies moving together, the squelch of your pussy soaking him, his breathy groans and your desperate moans— they drown out every other thought.
“Fuck, Jungkookie,” you cry out, your legs locking tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper. “Y-yes, yes, oh my goddd.”
He grunts low in his chest, his pace quickening as he chases your high, each thrust hitting your g-spot with reckless precision. “That’s it, baby,” he rasps, his voice rough and wrecked, eyes glued to the way your tits bounce with every snap of his hips. “Cum for your boyfriend. C'mon. Show me how much you fucking love me.”
“Fuck, baby—fuck!” your voice breaks into a high-pitched whine, the sound desperate as your nails dig into the sweaty shirt stretched over his back. “Gonna fuckingg cummm, baby. God, fuck—fuck—”
You shatter around him, your orgasm crashing over you in a sore wave, your body shaking as your pussy clamps down on his cock. Jungkook groans, his lips finding yours to swallow your cries as his thrusts don’t relent, driving you through every pulse.
“Gonna take my cum, baby?” he grits out against your lips, your head tipping back as his breath fans over your sweaty skin. His hands tighten their hold on your thighs, keeping you locked in place. “Huh? Gonna take it all ‘cause you love me so fucking much, yeah?”
“Y-yes, baby,” you sob, your body jerking from the oversensitivity as he keeps pushing deeper and deeper. “I fucking love you, Jungkookie—please, give it to me. Give it, baby. Fucking give it!”
A deep, guttural curse spills from his lips as he stills, his cock buried deep as his release hits. Warmth floods your hole as he fills you, every drop making you whimper, your legs trembling around him. His forehead drops to your neck, his damp hair sticking to your skin as he pants heavily.
“God, I fucking love you,” he mutters, his voice thick as he presses his lips to your collarbone. “Never gonna get over saying that.”
“My sappy boyfriend,” you tease, your fingers threading through his sweaty hair, scratching softly at his scalp as he groans into your skin. “Who would’ve thought?”
Jungkook lifts his head, his dark eyes narrowing as he gives you a look. You smile sweetly, dragging a finger across his swollen lips as you snicker. “I love you too, daddy.”
sorry for the delay, i was having a mental breakdown bites lips
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Summary: All vampires have a special ability which they invoke to lure mortals into their clutches, whether to feast on their blood or for the purposes of their pleasure. For Jeongguk, it’s his siren voice, and he’ll use it in whatever way necessary to attract you to his side and take you as his own.
Pairing: Vampire!Jungkook x Reader
Genre: Fantasy in the Modern World AU, Obsession, Loss of Innocence, Strangers to Lovers, Slow-Burn, Angst, Smut, Fluff (the smallest amount)
Word Count: 26.5k+
Warnings: fantasy elements, vampires, blood, blood drinking, biting, fangs, immortality, bodily changes, nightclubs/bars, drinking, nonconsensual kissing & touching, dancing, dreams, dream walking, sexual touching while asleep (kinda?), vampiric powers, siren, knocking someone unconscious, stalking, research, anxiety and paranoia, manipulation, watching someone sleep. SMUT: kissing, dry humping, biting into genitalia, drinking/playing with bodily fluids, cum swallowing, cum eating, face fucking, masturbation (m), choking, gagging, unprotected sex, fingering, semi-public sex (ehh?), titty fondling, biting tits, hair pulling, missionary, doggy, oral sex (both receiving), cream pie, hickeys, ok I think I got them all.
Author's Note: happy early birthday to my man! (i'm listening to you grunt on a treadmill as I type this) I turned jk into a vampire just like he's i've always wanted 🤪 and it's so self-indulgent y'all... this is lowkey just pure monstrous filth. also used the alternative spelling of jk's name bc I felt like it fit better for the story. I got the idea for this one while listening to your idol from KPDH (particularly the bridge!) so you can definitely listen to that before reading but it isn't necessary, just an inspiration of mine for the fic. I hope everyone enjoys reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it ok ily byeee! :)
His voice is like velvet; smooth and luxurious, but it’s also warm, deep, and rich like an aged whiskey with strong hints of vanilla. The first time you hear the mystifying timbre is in your dreams. He appears as a dulcet voice in your head while you’re sound asleep in bed one cold, autumn night.
There’s no vision accompanying the sound, only the bleakness of the back of your eyelids, and yet it’s so vivid you swear he’s beside you in bed.
He’s singing to you in a language you don’t recognize, although if you have to guess you’ll say it hails from somewhere in Asia. The syllables and phrases sound undeniably old as though no one has spoken it in the last couple hundred years. It’s beautiful regardless of its origin or age, and the mysterious lyrics paired with the serene melody lull you into an even deeper slumber.
You gasp awake the following morning, almost shocked you’re still in your own bed after listening to the alluring song all night. Even without picturing anything like a normal dream, the music alone seemed to transport you to a different realm of imagination.
Shaking your head to and fro to bring yourself back to the real world, you regretfully leave the warmth of your bed so you can ready yourself for the day.
As you brush your teeth while staring down your reflection, you wonder how your mind managed to conjure up such a gorgeous serenade. Perhaps you heard something similar while watching tv or it was playing in the background of a cafe or store. Whatever the answer may be, you don’t consider it much after spitting your toothpaste out and hoping in the shower.
Until you fall asleep again that night and the song returns only moments after shutting your eyes.
Two weeks go by of you hearing the same recurring melody in your head, and that’s when you deem it weird enough to head to the library for an answer.
You start with physical books, figuring if the song is as old as you think, your chances of finding it there will be better than with a computer. Scouring through encyclopedias and textbooks galore, you spend the first half of the morning with your nose between dusty, old pages. Which does, in fact, yield some results once you compare your haphazard chicken scratch of the lyrics to a foreign language book and find that the words are similar to Korean. Armed with your new discovery, you return to the twenty-first century by researching the history and past variations of the language on your laptop.
It turns out Hangul has gone through multiple different iterations across the centuries, and each one seems closer than the last, but the written history of the language ends before you find an exact match. Further confusing you because you must have heard it somewhere if it’s appearing in your dreams, but the more you search, the less you find.
The day ends with Shazam, YouTube, and plain ole Google to find the song or even the singer, but none of the applications recognize the tune and you begin thinking you created both the ballad and its owner out of thin air, which shouldn’t be possible.
When the sun sets and you’ve yet to leave the library or consume anything besides iced coffee, your roommate comes to rescue you.
Emily, who happens to also be your best friend, walks into the large building like a woman on a mission. The fire in her eyes immediately tells you she means business and is going to stop you whether you want to or not.
“Em —“
“Girl,” she interrupts you. “I haven’t seen you all day, where have you been?”
“Here,” you answer like it’s obvious.
She rolls her eyes while occupying the seat across from you.
“Is this about that song?” You nod sheepishly and let your head fall into the open book on the table. “I honestly don’t get why it’s bothering you so much. Dreams are weird! What else is new?”
“You don’t understand,” you groan. “It isn’t just a dream. I feel like someone is beside me singing directly into my ear. And how do you explain it being in a language I don’t speak and the voice of someone I don’t know?”
Emily shrugs before standing up and extending her hand out.
“Let’s just call it a mystery of the universe and go about our day, yeah?” Albeit reluctantly, you take her hand so she can pull you up. “It’s Friday night! We’ve got partying to do.”
You chuckle at her lack of priorities, but follow her to the doom room to get dolled up anyway.
Partying, clubbing, and drinking aren’t necessarily your favorite activities, but you adore spending time with your best friend and she always makes nights out enjoyable for you. It isn’t the activities themselves you don’t prefer, but the company that comes with the territory.
It’s a secret only you, Emily, and God knows that you’re still a virgin despite being in your early twenties and an active socialite.
The decision to remain celibate all these years is one you made all your own and isn’t for lack of options. You’re waiting for the right person to give your body to and it certainly isn’t going to be one of these grubby college guys who constantly try getting with you. You aren’t ashamed of your choice to wait, but going out can be difficult when everyone assumes you’re there to find a sexual partner for the evening.
Emily acts as your first line of defense in those scenarios. Either by pretending to be your girlfriend or simply scaring them away, she makes it so you can have fun without being bothered by members of the opposite sex trying to bring you home.
Although, sometimes you don’t mind the attention as long as you’re able to maintain your firm boundaries. Like tonight, when a handsome fellow student offers to buy you a drink and fervently agrees with you when you make it clear you won’t be coming home with him. Sure, men love to lie, but Emily gives you an assured look from across the bar telling you she’s got your back. So, you take his hand and allow him to lead you to the dance floor.
You dance together through a few shitty songs the DJ very poorly mixes together, but you have a good time regardless of the random beat drops. His hands remain in a conservative position on your hips while you sway side to side and enjoy the feeling of his chest pressing on your back.
There’s a brief lull between songs and you feel a cool breath on your neck right as the music becomes quiet enough.
“Y/N.”
Hearing your name makes your brow scrunch and you glance back over your shoulder.
“How do you know my name?”
“Huh?” Your dance partner leans in towards you. “I didn’t say your name.”
Right on que, there’s another whisper.
“Y/N.”
The syllables have a slight musicality to them, as if the person is singing your name, and that’s when you recognize the voice.
Shock and confusion forces you out of the stranger’s embrace. He reaches for you while asking what’s wrong, but you shake your head and weave through the crowd of bodies to quickly escape the dance floor.
Once you’re free from the congestion, you frantically look around before pushing open the squeaky bathroom door and locking it behind you. Gripping the sink until your knuckles turn white, you inhale and exhale while counting each breath that moves through your lungs.
It’s one thing to hear a mysterious voice in your dreams, it’s another entirely for him to visit you while you’re conscious. A dream you can rationalize away; this you cannot.
After taking a moment to catch your breath and steady your racing heartbeat, you leave the bathroom to find your best friend. She’s still at the bar talking to a girl who’s precisely her type and you feel guilty about stealing her away, but you have to get out of here.
“Em!”
Her eyes momentarily search for the source of her name before landing on you. She enthusiastically waves until noticing your distraught expression and immediately jumps into protector mode.
“What’s wrong?”
Her lady friend’s face distorts, but Emily pacifies her with a wave of her hand conveying you aren’t a threat in that regard.
“I’m… um… just ready to go, if that’s alright?”
Fear and anxiety are evident in your features and Emily doesn’t hesitate to take your hand after apologizing to her companion. The two of you exit in a hurry, the chilly autumn air encompassing you and helping to clear your head as you walk home together.
“Did that guy do something to you?” You shake your head. “Then what’s going on, babe?”
“He said my name.”
“Who?”
“Him.”
“You mean —”
“Yes!”
Emily shakes her head back and forth like she’s trying to use the action to make sense of everything.
“Well, it must be because you’re drunk.”
“I had one drink,” you correct her.
Her mouth snaps shut when your response silences any possible retort waiting on her tongue. It’s obvious how scared you are and in order to avoid being dismissive, she stops applying logic to the strange situation and decides to just be there for you as best she can.
Once you’re home and getting ready for bed, you exclusively think of your allusive dream man saying your name tonight. The syllables and vowels rolling off his tongue were as beautiful as his song despite having no melody. It initially terrified you, but now there’s a piece of you craving to hear it again.
It’s still a mystery whether he’s real or merely a figment of your imagination, but he certainly feels like more than just a voice in your head.
A feeling which is validated when things change that night. As soon as dreamland whisks you away, the familiar song filters into your subconscious, but then the darkness begins moving the same as fog creeping in at dusk. The smokey presence encircles you like a pair of arms holding you tight and even the volume of his voice gets louder as though he’s kissing the shell of your ear.
It sends shivers down your spine while goosebumps form on your skin, yet the reaction isn’t out of fear. In fact, you wish you could open your eyes to meet the owner of the ghostly limbs.
His presence is all-encompassing and so intense it feels like there’s a physical weight pressing down on your chest. The new element to your recurring dream solidifies to you that there’s no way you're making this all up. He feels too real, too much, to be something conjured up by your own mind.
You wake up with a shuddering gasp while clutching your head in both hands after spending the entire night being sung to and surrounded by him. None of this should be possible and yet you’re certain about what you experienced.
Emily isn’t awake, so you spend a moment in bed calming your racing, worrisome thoughts before heading to the bathroom in hopes of washing all your convoluted emotions down the drain.
Nighttime continues just the same for a couple more weeks, but you don’t do any research about the new development. You know when you inevitably find nothing it will only cause more stress, so you let the dreams continue without any real answers while hoping he’ll go away on his own.
You and Emily have a plan to spend a night out on the town with a couple friends tonight. It’s pretty standard to head to a bar or house party every weekend, but midterms just ended so all of campus will be out celebrating. It’s the first time you’ll be going out since the night you heard his voice and it would be a lie to say you aren’t nervous it’ll happen again. Alas, you’re only young once and you refuse to miss out on the action because of your fear of the unknown.
There are empty cans and wine glasses, makeup tools, and clothes strewn all around your room as you prepare for the evening. Emily and two of your mutual friends who live across the hall are each occupying a corner as you all simultaneously do your hair, makeup, and choose your outfits. Emily and Hannah are deciding between two dresses while you’re applying mascara to your lashes. Shelby is still curling her hair and also happens to be preoccupied with arguing with her long distance boyfriend on the phone.
“I do not envy that,” Emily notes while standing behind you and checking her ensemble in the mirror.
“Nope, not even a little bit,” you concur.
Hannah joins you both to fix her lipstick that unfortunately smeared all over her teeth.
“I don’t know, maybe fighting every now and then is worth it to have consistent dick in your life,” she comments.
You roll your eyes.
“Having someone to fuck should be the cherry on top, not the reason you date them.”
Hannah and Emily make eye contact with knowing expressions.
“You’re such a romantic, Y/N,” Hannah states.
Shrugging in response to her comment, you drop your mascara tube and stand to get dressed.
“Maybe so, but I know what I want and am willing to wait for it,” you reply.
Emily smiles and squeezes your shoulders in support.
“As you should, babe.”
The four of you eventually finish dolling yourselves up and head towards the club everyone will be at tonight. It’s a different establishment than the bar you went to last time, but is in the same general area downtown.
Upon arriving you immediately notice the place is packed beyond belief. Even though you expected it to be busy, the hordes of people definitely don’t ease your anxiety and you automatically grab Emily’s hand to bring her to the bar for your first round of drinks.
The goal is to let loose following your exams and you aren’t going to let your worries about this mystery man dictate your actions, especially when you aren’t even certain he exists. If he wants to have another one sided conversation with you, so be it.
With that in mind, you spend the first half of the evening drinking and chatting with men around the bar. The only issue is you can’t bring yourself to step onto the dance floor. Every time you do, something in your brain puts a complete halt on the movement and your companion eventually leaves to find a different dance partner. You don’t hear his voice or feel his presence, but there seems to be a mental block preventing you from engaging with anyone else.
You’re currently on caller number five, who’s a handsome stranger you’ve seen around campus a couple times. He’s ordering you another drink with his arm resting on the bar stool behind you and by now you’re drunk enough not to be too nervous, but you end up feeling stone cold sober when an icy chill crawls up your neck.
There’s no rhyme or reason why you move so instantaneously, but without another thought you’re pushing your chair back to find the exit. Skirting past all the warm bodies occupying the already tight space, you finally reach the door and nod at the bouncer before stepping past him into the night.
As soon as the cool air nips at you, your teeth start chattering as you shiver from the harsh breeze. You wrap your arms around your torso while stepping away from the club to lean against the building. Inhaling the fresh air around you seems to calm your mind and you’re thankful for whatever force led you outside, whether your own brain or something else.
While taking a moment just to breathe, you absentmindedly gaze out across the street. When you do, your eyes land on a man with quite possibly the most striking set of features you’ve ever seen.
Even though he’s a couple yards away across the pavement, you can see his raven hair and large, matching eyes as well as his pink lips, round nose, and sharp jaw. He effortlessly takes your breath away and you’re positive you’ve never seen him before because you’d remember a face like his. Yet the longer you stare, the more you swear you know him from somewhere. His aura is so familiar you can taste it on the tip of your tongue and despite the distance, you can feel intense energy radiating from him where you stand.
Your reaction must amuse him because his lips quirk up in a smirk before he turns on his heel to leave in the opposite direction.
Once he’s out of sight, you quietly gasp to replace the missing oxygen from your lungs. Never in your life have you experienced such a charged encounter and if you didn’t know any better, you’d swear it was a dream.
The illustrious meeting frazzles you too much to return to your previous endeavor, so you message your friends and hail a cab to take you home.
You remove your makeup and change into your pajamas in a flash, for the first time actually wishing to fall asleep and return to your nighttime companion. The different occurrences tonight were just so bizarre that the familiarity of your dream man’s song and touch are a comfort to you in comparison.
Although he does greet you soon after shutting your eyes, it isn’t how you expect; not the way he has for the last month or so.
Tonight, the presence which usually encases you like strong arms, has fingers that caress you throughout your slumber. The shadowy digits dance along your arms and shoulders as his tender voice fills your mind with song. You didn’t know it was possible for him to feel any closer or more intense, but as he maps your entire outline by slowly tracing your every curve, there seems to be no space between you at all.
It should terrify you more than any of the past instances have, but his presence is so mundane now that it almost feels natural for him to be touching you.
After the intimate night with your faceless visitor, you don’t wake up having to catch your breath or clutch your chest as you often do. Instead, a content sigh leaves your lips as you take time stretching your limbs in bed.
“Who’s Jeongguk?”
Your head whips towards the sound of your roommate’s voice.
“Huh?”
“It sounds like a name. You were saying it in your sleep,” Emily explains.
“I was?”
Talking in your sleep isn’t something you’ve ever been known to do.
Emily nods to answer your question while getting out of bed to head to the bathroom, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
You’ve never heard that name before so you don’t understand why it would be slipping from your lips in the night, but aside from the obvious connection, your mind simply knows whose name it is as though it's written in your internal code.
Assuming he’ll follow the normal pattern, you predict a couple more weeks of him gently exploring your body before he’ll up the ante, but that’s not the case. When you fall asleep following a lazy Sunday spent studying and watching movies with Emily, he changes his approach again. As always, the dream starts with his sanguine, melodic voice. His magnetic presence follows soon after and just like the night prior, it’s no longer just a shadowy weight surrounding you, but the tender touch of darkness.
Unlike last night, his fingertips don’t begin their excursion at your shoulders and collarbones. No, his featherlight touch lands on the supple skin of your inner thighs.
His prowess initially shocks you, but as the ghost-like caress continues along the sensitive area bordering your core, you slowly succumb to the pleasant feeling.
He touches you just the same for a while, as though it’s the first time he’s feeling someone’s warm skin. His hands move along your thighs and hips at a snail’s pace, never going higher than your ribs other than when he ever-so-slightly skims the underside of your breasts. It’s only after one of his slow descents down your stomach and abdomen that he ends the hypnotic pattern by placing his hand on your pussy.
Your breath hitches and even in your sleep you’re aware of the soft moan that escapes. He doesn’t move at first, allowing you to acquiesce to the weight of his hand on your most private and exposed area. Then, as your consciousness whirls with anticipation, he tentatively stretches his fingers until he’s able to part your folds and circle your hole.
To no one’s surprise, you’re already soaking wet with feminine essence that he swirls around your lips with his digits.
It simultaneously feels heavenly and sinful, but most of all surreal because you don’t understand how this is happening or even if it is. This could still just be a mirage of your mind after all, but somewhere deep within, you don’t believe it is; it simply can’t be.
He ceaselessly plays with your pussy the entire night, but his fingertips never actually sink into your sex, causing you to wake up in the morning already yearning for more. You’ve never been touched by someone else and you didn’t expect it to feel so amazing. Even though his fingers were merely a presence and not physically there, it was the most sexually pleasurable experience of your life so far.
You don’t tell Emily about the new occurrence as you normally would. Truthfully, you’re too ashamed of how much you enjoyed it to utter the truth out loud. Here you are, a proud virgin waiting for the right partner, who then surrenders to the phantom touch of someone who only exists in dreamland.
Emily notices the shift in your behavior regardless of you mentioning anything, but she gives you space to sort through your emotions and waits patiently for you to come to her rather than prying the information out of you. Therefore, she’s the one who picks up on you slowly descending into madness the longer this goes on.
Night after night he returns to you, always touching you in different, mesmerizing ways without ever penetrating you. Instead, he’ll massage your breasts all night by alternating between squeezing them and tweaking your nipples until they’re so hard they hurt in the morning or running his hands up and down your inner thighs while brushing your core every so often to tease you. It’s pure torture and yet you can’t get enough. You start going to sleep earlier, waking up later, and eventually, even begin napping midday just to feel him again.
By the time he finally uses his long fingers to fuck you, it’s been close to two months since you initially heard his voice in your head and you’ve been going insane for at least half that time.
It happens on a frigid winter night while you’re cocooned in a pile of blankets. Emily’s at home this weekend for a family gathering, so you’re all alone in your dorm room. You wonder if he knows and that’s why he decides to enhance your relationship, if you can even call what you have anything so formal.
Perhaps you’re just genuinely crazy and your lack of sexual encounters finally broke your mental state enough to create a fictional partner who spends the night with you. There’s no strength left within you to care either way; you’re too addicted to him, real or not, to rationalize or stop the dreams.
He’s touching you leisurely tonight, steadily inching his fingers up your waist before cupping your breasts in his large hands and giving them a generous squeeze. You’re used to the sensation and gladly welcome it as quiet, content sighs leave your parted lips. But the sound morphs into a sharp intake of air when he tries something different and you have to clutch the sheets in response.
All of the sudden, a warm mouth is touching your chest and the pure shock caused by his actions almost startles you awake. Your visitor kisses across the fatty flesh of your left breast before moving to the right as his hands descend to your hips. It feels immaculate and you desperately wish you could touch him in return while he pleasures you.
His lips wrap around your pebbled nipple and tug on the sensitive skin, making you moan exuberantly in your sleep. You believe that’s all he’s going to do, but then his fingers sneak into your wet folds so he can move your juices around and lubricate your cunt. He must be satisfied with how soaked you already are, because he switches to rubbing tight circles over your clit. It feels so intense you believe you’re going to burst, but he relieves the pressure by moving away from your pearl and parting your lips with his fingers.
He’s still sucking on your tits while exploring the pussy he’s no doubt memorized and the dual sensations are mind numbing, but nothing could prepare you for the way your ecstasy peaks when he sinks two fingers into your hole.
You scream as your back arches off the bed and you swear you can hear satisfaction in his voice as he continues singing to you.
He begins by fucking you slow and deep, obviously enjoying the tightness of your untouched cunt around his fingers. It takes time for you to adjust to the foreign feeling, so you appreciate his initially timid approach. His andante pace doesn’t last for long, though, and another wail rips from your throat when he scrapes your nipple with his teeth while forcing his digits farther up into your pussy.
Tears never once stop rolling down your cheeks throughout the entire encounter, but they’re all from the pleasure and relief of finally feeling him touch you where you need him the most. You’ve been craving this for so long and it’s even better than you imagined, so much so that you secretly hope your alarm never goes off so he can keep fucking you and slobbering all over your chest.
It only takes a few minutes for you to have your first orgasm caused by someone else and it’s the single most exquisite experience of your life. The euphoria is so extreme it leaves you sobbing into your pillow as your body shakes and convulses. Your cunt pulses around his phantom fingers throughout the high and the sensation must do something to him, too, because his song stops abruptly.
“Good girl, Y/N.”
His speaking voice paralyzes your mind to the point you don’t realize his fingers and lips are retreating. Besides him serenading you, you’ve only heard him say your name before, but his timbre is just as beautiful without a melody accompanying it.
“Jeongguk.”
You barely recognize your weak voice and using the unfamiliar name is purely instinctual.
“That is right, my little mortal.”
His reply is your final moment together before you gasp awake and find yourself drenched in a cold sweat. Throwing the blankets off your shaking limbs, you sit on the edge of your bed to catch your breath. When you glance down, you see a large wet spot on your pajama bottoms that’s without a doubt a consequence of the orgasm he gave you.
The room feels like it’s spinning and you can’t get a single thought straight, but one word manages to stand out amongst the kaleidoscope.
Mortal.
Despite leaving Emily in the dark for the last month or so, you practically word vomit an update to her when she walks through the door later that day.
“He’s not human?”
“Yes, and it’s the answer I’ve been looking for. He can do what he does because he’s not human!”
“And you know this because…”
You may have excluded some key details when explaining your recent discovery, like him touching you and making you come last night.
“Well, he called me ‘his little mortal’ last night,” you confess.
Emily blinks in shock a couple times.
“He what?” She shakes her head in pure disbelief. “I’m sorry, I thought he only sang to you. He’s speaking to you now?” You nod. “Girl, human or not, you need to talk to someone about this. I mean, he’s basically a stalker.”
“Em, who the fuck is going to believe that someone’s been singing and talking to me in my sleep?”
You purposely don’t mention that you enjoy his presence in your life, stalker or not.
“Fair. Do you at least have an idea of what type of non-human he is?”
“Not a clue. Monster lore has gotten pretty mixed up over the years and dream walking can be traced back to pretty much any of them,” you explain.
Emily sighs and sits beside you on your bed.
“I’m sorry you’re going through this, babe,” she tells you.
“You really believe me, just like that?”
“Of course I do,” she states. “I’ve seen what it’s done to you first hand. You’re antsy, talk in your sleep, constantly have your head in the clouds. You haven’t been yourself for a while now.”
Sighing in relief that you’re not alone, you rest your head on her shoulder while she reciprocates by wrapping an arm around you.
Even with your massive break in the case, it doesn’t change anything, and your mystery monster continues to pleasure you with his hands every time you close your eyes. Which happens often because every touch just makes you more infatuated with him and within a couple weeks, you’re sleeping between every class and waking up as late as possible to spend as much time in his arms as possible.
You’re aware how unhealthy the relationship is and yet something about it makes you feel fulfilled, rejuvenated, and whole. All you know is the sound of his voice and the weight of his presence, but he makes you feel things no other man ever has.
As if you being asleep half the time isn’t enough for him, his ghostly embrace finds you wide awake in the library one night. To be fair, it’s finals season and you couldn’t spare any time for a nap between studying and running across campus for class. Perhaps he’s just as needy for you as you are for him and his only option is to greet you outside of your normal schedule.
The book you’re reading falls right out of your hands and onto the floor when you first feel his fingers brushing your nape. You wonder if you fell asleep studying, but when you pinch your arm to check, the mild sting answers for you. Once you realize this is happening while you’re fully conscious and in public, you survey the area for any students or staff, but no one’s in sight. The library will be closing soon, so it makes sense you’re alone in the large building.
His fingertips travel from your neck down the front of your torso as you relish in the sensation. Your head falls backwards, mouth drops open, and legs instinctively spread apart as if to make room for him, despite knowing he isn’t actually there. He descends like honey dripping from a spoon, but you embrace the feeling of him languidly tracing your curves before finally reaching your center.
You're disappointed when his touch ceases entirely and a small whine leaves your throat in response, but he pacifies you quickly. Except when he returns to you, it isn’t the feeling of his hand on your core, but his lips.
A shuddering moan breaches the air as his tongue repeatedly moves through your pussy from bottom to top. He licks you up and down like he’s afraid he’ll miss a spot and your nails reactively bite into the leather chair. You’ve never felt someone’s mouth on you and the sensation is otherworldly. Unlike him fingering you which you could compare to your own hand, feeling him kiss and lick your cunt is completely unrivaled by anything else.
Releasing one arm of the chair to cover your mouth, you loudly moan and whimper as he continues eating you out. He works ravenously to drink up the essence pouring out of you and before you know it, you’re crying hot tears of pleasure.
You want nothing more than to touch him in return or at least lace your fingers in his hair while his tongue plunges into your hole. Without anything else to hold onto, your free hand nearly rips the chair because of the intense pressure in your abdomen and thighs.
It doesn’t take long for an orgasm to build in your gut because of his ministrations, but even when you come on his tongue with a sharp cry, he keeps lapping up your cum like water. He only stops his torment when you sob out the syllables of his name once the overstimulation becomes too much.
His presence vanishes just as soon as he appeared and you're left panting and sweating in your cum soaked underwear just as the closing announcement for the library rings overhead.
Frantically collecting your possessions, you practically run home with a half-zipped book bag and your headphones still around your neck. Upon reaching your dorm, you slam the door behind you and attempt to return your heartbeat to a normal cadence by remaining against the wood.
You’re unsure what about tonight terrified you so much, but for whatever reason, you decide it’s time to fight back against your mystery monster. His incessant actions are changing you, etching away at your morals, and you refuse to lose your virginity to a mere ghost or something far worse.
They say the best method of getting over someone is to get under someone else, so you ask Emily to go out with you tonight for the sole purpose of finding someone to fool around with. She’s rightfully hesitant and surprised by your sudden change of heart, but you assure her this is what you want and you leave campus together a couple hours later.
The plan isn’t to sleep with someone, but you at least want to feel the touch of another person so you can forget the bond you’ve formed with your nightly visitor.
It’s quite possibly the easiest mission ever to locate a relatively sober man to take you out back, and when you find someone you deem cute enough, you instruct him to follow you before taking his hand.
You lead him into the alley beside the bar and immediately grab onto his jacket for a searing kiss up against the cold brick wall. He seamlessly matches your enthusiasm by holding you flush to his chest and slipping his tongue into your mouth. After making out for a minute or so, you feel his hand sneaking towards your belt and brace yourself, but before he can even undo your buckle, you realize you heavily underestimated how ready you are for this and push him off of you.
“Sorry, changed my mind,” you state while moving out of his embrace.
A hand on the wall stops you from going any further and you glance back in confusion.
“I don’t think so, kitten,” he sneers.
Your face contorts in disgust at the pet name, but then you’re yelping as he tugs you back and cages you in with both arms. He cuts off any avenue of calling for help by kissing you again and your only choice is to try kicking him since he’s holding your arms up on either side of your head. But your attempts are unsuccessful once he uses his hips to pin you down and hold you still.
Fear courses through your veins like blood and you can feel tears pricking at your eyes. When he readjusts his grip so one of his hands is free while still securing you against the bricks, an unequivocal dread overtakes you.
Except nothing else happens. You see a flash of color behind his head and the next thing you know, his grasp is gone and he’s tumbling to the ground. For a poignant moment you just stare at his limp body beside your feet, but then reality creeps in and you lift your head.
“Humans should really stop touching what is not theirs.”
Before you is the man you saw a couple months ago and without any hesitation, you start screaming your head off.
The stranger’s eyes go wide for a split second before his expression shifts to one of annoyance, as if you being terrified of him killing someone is an inconvenience to him. His head tilts and he clicks his tongue before stepping forward to silence you by clasping his hand over your mouth.
His actions certainly don’t help the terror in your belly, and you continue yelling even though the sound is muffled.
“Shh,” he whispers. He’s merely centimeters away and you can feel his breath on your earlobe. “He is not dead, just unconscious.”
His voice is so recognizable you could pick him out of a blind line up and once you realize who’s standing in front of you, you cease your screaming and aggressively whine as a means of begging him to let go.
The pathetic sound must appease him because he chuckles while stepping back so you’re eye-to-eye.
“I know, I know. I am excited to finally be face to face as well.” His other hand rises to push some stray hair out of your eyes. “Are you going to be my good girl and stay quiet for me?”
You nod while maintaining eye contact and he removes his hand in response.
“You’re… him,” you pant.
“Him?”
It takes a second for the oxygen to return to your lungs so you can reply.
“Jeongguk. That’s your name, right?”
He smiles in obvious satisfaction and although it’s dark, you can see inhumanely sharp canines among the rest of his teeth.
“Yes, my darling,” he answers you.
The moment feels too surreal to comprehend and you’re unsure whether meeting him makes you happy or even more petrified.
“Why me?”
Jeongguk’s eyebrow quirks up upon hearing your question, but he nods in understanding after a second and offers you his hand.
“Come with me and I will explain everything.”
You wish it took you a while to discern the consequences and outcomes of leaving with him, but you take his hand almost instantaneously and follow him out of the alley without any further questions.
Jeongguk’s been alive for a long time, to the point he doesn’t necessarily remember the exact amount of years. He knows he’s the youngest of his coven since their leader is the one who turned him into a vampire, but as century after century goes by, his memories fade more and more.
What he does recall is that being a human is boring and he heavily prefers being a vampire. The abilities, lifestyle, and overall allure of his position in the world brings him far more satisfaction than his previous human life. As a vampire, he can spend all of eternity drinking blood, having sex, and enjoying life stuck in his late twenties. It’s quite the advantage for him to look as he does; his handsome, youthful features providing everything he needs to quench his thirst to feed and fuck. The vampiric gifts bestowed on him to bring mortals into his clutches aren’t even necessary half the time.
Even so, he doesn’t shy away from using them, especially his singing voice that can lure anyone to him with a single line.
Jeongguk can speak multiple languages after having plenty of centuries to learn some, but he still chooses to sing in his native tongue, albeit an older version of the language that’s since died off. Whenever he wishes to connect with a human, whether to drink their blood or use their body for his pleasure, all he has to do is sing an old Korean lullaby or ballad until they appear beside him. He could always coerce them to his side, a power shared by all vampires, but he prefers his company to join him of their own volition.
He’s never wanted a human for more than one night, unlike some of his brothers who have used their abilities to obtain a mate.
It’s incomparable to human mates, who fall in love, get married, and have children. A vampire mate is more or less an easy way of getting food and/or laid whenever one pleases. There’s a ritual which can be done to make said human immortal, although not a vampire, allowing the vampire to feed off the human’s blood without killing them. Most vampires still hunt for their meals and reserve their mates for sexual purposes only rather than a food source, but plenty of his kind use them for both.
Not everyone in his coven has a mate, but it’s seen as a goal for vampires to acquire one. Jeongguk doesn’t have any interest in it, perfectly content having his pick of the litter when it comes to mortals. Why settle for one when you can have as many as you like?
That all changes the moment he lays eyes on you.
He never understood why his brothers and so many other vampires would take on a mate when there’s millions of humans to choose from, but when he sees you for the first time, he finally gets it.
You’re sitting on a bench at the university Jeongguk often peruses to find his meals. The sun’s only just gone down, hence why Jeongguk can walk around freely, but even in the moonlight he can see how beautiful you are. At first, he figures he’ll just have a fun night by bringing you into his bed, but then the wind blows and he inhales your alluring scent for the first time.
Jeongguk can smell your innocence from a mile away, the dark red, rich, virgin blood pumping through your veins nearly causing him to lose his mind. Adult virgins are a rare find nowadays, especially one as undeniably gorgeous as you.
A mortal must be a virgin for the mating ritual to occur, making it harder for vampires to locate potential mates as human society becomes more sexually liberal as time goes on.
Alas, here you are, the most perfect little mortal he’s ever seen.
You’re merely reading with your legs crossed and your hair up in a bun, but having your jugular on full display for Jeongguk to see while you’re clueless to his nearby presence has his mouth watering.
It’s worrisome just how badly he wants you, both your blood and body, but he knows he has to wait. If he’s going to make you his mate, you have to want him just as much. He won't be able to utilize his normal tricks to attract you to him, he has to seduce you.
He skips dinner altogether to hurry home and ask his coven for advice. When he enters the massive, abandoned mansion they’ve been living in for the past few decades, he bounds down the steps a couple at a time until he finds his brothers in the large living room.
“Hyungs,” he calls out to them.
Six heads turn towards the sound of his voice and a couple of them gesture for him to join them.
“Why do you look so clean? Were you not going out to feed?” Seokjin, the oldest of his coven, asks.
Jeongguk waves his question off as he comes to stand in front of them on the couch.
“I found a virgin,” he states.
All of their eyes widen in both surprise and delight.
“An adult virgin?” Jimin asks.
“Yes.”
“In this day and age?” Yoongi comments.
“And?” Hoseok probes him further.
Jeongguk’s eyes roll into his skull as he imagines you all alone on that bench.
“She is the most stunning mortal I have come across in centuries,” Jeongguk explains.
“You finally settling down, then?” Namjoon asks with an eager grin.
“I do not believe I have a choice,” he admits with a smile of his own. “Will you help me?”
Despite not being the eldest, Namjoon is considered their leader and since he’s the one who turned Jeongguk, they have an especially close bond.
“Help you how?” Taehyung questions. “All you have to do is fill her womb with your seed.”
Jeongguk grimaces at the comment even though that’s precisely what he wishes to do to you.
“She has to ask me for it,” he replies.
Taehyung’s eyebrows rise at his response since Jeongguk’s usually the most sexually pervasive of them all, but he understands the sentiment.
“It is simple. You use your gift,” Yoongi answers.
All vampires have a specific power besides their normal abilities which they can use to attract humans to them. Jeongguk’s is obviously his siren voice, while his brothers have various other ones.
“I am aware, but I have only used it for single encounters and I will not be able to convince her after just one meeting.”
“You could dream walk,” Namjoon suggests. “It would give you enough time to slowly lure her in.”
“It will be hard, though. You have to resist going too fast or you will risk scaring her,” Seokjin states. “Mortals are able to seal their subconscious minds from us if they so wish. Then you will be left with no choice but to use coercion."
Jeongguk scratches his nape and nods his head as he processes their advice. It seems like his best option, but he’s never done it before, so he’ll need to practice before attempting it on you.
“Go get something to eat,” Jimin instructs while patting him on the shoulder on his way out.
His brothers concur with the final suggestion and Jeongguk can’t help but agree given that vampire powers work best following a meal.
So, he ventures out again to the same campus where he found you. It’s the weekend meaning he has plenty of young blood to choose from as students mosey about from party to party. He doesn’t particularly enjoy the taste of blood tainted with alcohol, but they’re the easiest population to subdue and coerce into forgetting the encounter.
Before finding his prey for the evening, he returns to the bench to pick up your scent and hopefully find where you live. It’s easy enough when yours sticks out so much amongst the rest, taking him no time at all to locate your dorm room.
The light is still on, so even though you’re on the third floor, he can see you sitting in bed watching something on your laptop. Luckily, you have artwork on your wall spelling out your name or else he doesn’t know how he would learn it. He whispers the moniker under his breath a couple times, practicing how to roll the syllables off his tongue.
Even though your hair is down and it unfortunately conceals part of your face, Jeongguk is just as enamored with you as he was a few hours ago. You look so gentle, warm, and soft and he wants nothing more than to sink his fangs into your neck while his cock is buried deep in your pussy.
No one’s ever had you like that, which means you’ll be entirely, solely his and in that moment he swears to do anything and everything to ensure that happens.
Jeongguk reluctantly leaves after watching you for a while longer and continues on his mission to feed from a couple drunk college kids.
Upon returning home, he swaps his bloody clothes for clean ones before immediately heading to the expansive library they’ve built up over many years, courtesy of none other than Namjoon. He spends the night studying both ancient and new vampire texts that explain dream walking in graphic detail so he’s fully prepared to accomplish it with you.
The following night he returns to practice on some unsuspecting students. He isn’t able to see their initial reactions in the morning, but once the sun goes down, he studies the humans and thankfully, all of them tell their friends about hearing a mysterious singer in their heads the night prior, so Jeongguk considers it a success.
He waits one more night so he can feed again beforehand and as soon as the moon rises, he finds himself outside your window. Dream walking is possible from afar, but at least for now, he wants to be nearby. Besides, he can’t help but crave seeing you whenever he’s able.
You take a while to fall asleep, but Jeongguk is patient and passes the time by admiring you as you complete your nighttime routine and change into comfier clothes before slipping beneath the covers. Once your eyes close, he focuses on propelling his voice into your mind as he did with the other students. He doesn’t have to actually sing to serenade you in your dreams, but he’s still technically singing in his head, so his emotions and inflections will reach you regardless.
There’s no obvious reaction on your face to show him his powers are working and it’s not as though he can stay until the morning to see you wake up. He believes he was successful, though, because when he comes back the next night, you’re dramatically explaining the occurrence to your roommate.
All your mannerisms, including your pretty voice and animated expressions, utterly captivate Jeongguk as he watches from outside and for the first time, he doesn’t mind the idea of spending eternity with a single soul.
He serenades you night after night for a couple weeks so he can gain confidence in his abilities before advancing to something more difficult. It’s important he has a good handle on the technique and he also wants to avoid moving too fast for your sake. Although, that plan doesn’t last long when he follows you out to the bars one night.
You and your friend, who he learns is Emily, are walking hand-in-hand towards downtown while Jeongguk trails behind a fair distance away since he can still see and hear you easily. He’s honestly surprised you’re going out at all, since you’re obviously not the type to have casual sex, but he definitely doesn’t mind seeing you in a skin tight outfit.
Despite remaining outside while you enjoy your night, he still smells you from across the street. Meaning he can tell when you end up standing too close to another human inside the bar.
It’s evident that alcohol is gradually mixing with your blood, but the scent isn’t potent enough for you to be drunk. He despises the idea of you willingly interacting with someone else, but he’s also aware that he’s helpless to stop you. So there you are, borderline sober and dancing with a human man while Jeongguk’s blood boils underneath his skin.
Even though you don’t know it yet, you're his, and these mortals better keep their hands off you before Jeongguk loses his goddamn mind.
In an act of desperation to separate you two, he decides to try speaking to you while you’re conscious. He knows it’s doable when in close proximity to someone, but still much harder than dream walking. Usually the person has to be inebriated, fatigued, or easily susceptible to persuasion and you barely fall into one of those categories.
Regardless of the possible hurdles, Jeongguk completely focuses on you using his mind to communicate with you. He figures keeping it simple will best accomplish his goal, so he merely utters your name in his head.
The sound must reach you, because your scent spikes with anxiety and confusion. He repeats your name, singing it this time so you know it’s him calling out to you and the plan works flawlessly. Within a single moment he smells you hurrying away from the man off to a secluded area far from anyone else’s scent.
He feels slightly guilty upon hearing your heart beating erratically because of him, but the knowledge that it’s only a matter of time until you’ll be happily welcoming the sound of his voice soothes him.
You leave soon after with your friend trailing close behind and Jeongguk waits while you walk far enough ahead of him before following you home. Once he sees you arrive safely back at your dorm room, he admires you from the shadows as you remove your makeup and let your hair down, every mundane movement of yours holding his full attention.
When you fall asleep, Jeongguk plans on continuing his previous endeavor of singing to you, but then he remembers the sick feeling in his gut when he knew you were in someone else’s arms. His jealousy and anger boils over until he has no choice but to change tactics. For the second time tonight, he attempts something new by sending not only his voice to you, but his presence. Vampires are able to use everything but their physical being to communicate with humans from afar, so he imagines his arms wrapping around you.
He watches as you shiver in your sleep and goosebumps appear on your arms, telling him everything he needs to know about the success of his abilities.
Satisfaction swirls inside of him as he holds you in his arms for the first time, albeit only subconsciously. He can’t sense any distress from you either, meaning everything is going according to plan.
Once he’s certain the connection will hold no matter the distance, he heads home to convey his accomplishment to his brothers.
Jeongguk doesn’t watch you sleep anymore since it’s easier to concentrate while relaxing in his own bed, but he still stands outside your window while you get ready or stay up late studying.
That’s how he knows you’re going out again a couple weeks later.
The usually quiet dorm room is suddenly full of laughter and music as you, your roommate, and two unrecognizable women prepare to head out later in the evening.
You look undeniably exquisite as you sit in front of a mirror applying your makeup and curling your hair. The sight nearly makes Jeongguk forgo his entire plan and take you right there, but he knows patience is the key to winning you over.
Just as he did before, he follows you and your friends along the winding streets leading to downtown. You seem nervous in comparison to last time and he wonders if it’s because of him and his previous actions. Even if that is the case, he has to push through until you’re comfortable and needy for him or he’ll never succeed in taking you as his mate.
He can tell you’re anxious immediately upon your arrival, but you self-soothe by drinking as soon as you step inside. Jeongguk grimaces at the smell of alcohol tainting your delicious blood and the night only goes further south when you remain close to multiple different men throughout the night.
The scent of their dirty blood standing near yours makes him want to be sick. His only solace is that you never spend much time with them, jumping from person to person every thirty minutes or so. Jeongguk is beyond curious why you’re behaving in such a manner, but he vehemently hopes it’s because he’s in the back of your mind.
He believes his theory might actually be correct when your scent spikes with adrenaline and your heartbeat grows closer. His whole body goes taught in fear of ruining things by seeing you face to face, but before he can hide, you’re pushing the glass door open and resting against the brick wall outside.
All of his senses dial to ten as he stares at you shivering in the cold. There’s a split second where he thinks he can make a run for it, but then you gradually lift your head in his direction. When your eyes land on him, they widen dramatically and your breath hitches. He knows it’s impossible for you to recognize him, but there’s a glimmer in your eyes telling him you have a hunch as to who he is. The idea makes him smirk as he appreciates you shamelessly ogling him, but he doesn’t remain there to enjoy your expression for much longer.
Disappointment is evident in your scent as Jeongguk walks away down the sidewalk and it fills him with pride. Seeing you up close and more importantly, your reaction to seeing him, is the exact amount of fuel he needs to keep your relationship moving forward. Truthfully, he simply can’t wait any longer to finally touch you.
Once you fall into a deep sleep that night, he imagines his hands caressing you, taking his sweet time feeling you for the first time by tracing your outline over and over again throughout your slumber.
His more intimate presence comes with the consequence of you being able to learn more about him in return. It’s a natural evolution of your bond growing stronger and the more intense your nightly routine becomes, the more of a two-way street the dream walk will be. Jeongguk isn’t sure how much your subconscious mind will absorb, but he hopes you’re able to sense something about him other than his phantom embrace.
It kills him that you’re both alone in your respective beds rather than tangled up in his sheets together, but despite the sensations not being as fervent as they will be in person, he’s pacified by the feeling of your soft, supple skin beneath his fingertips.
Jeongguk wishes the simple touch satiated him, but when you wake up in the morning and the connection severs, he realizes it isn't nearly enough. He just wants more, more, and more of you and although he originally planned to continue with his steady timeline, he can’t help himself from escalating things again the following night.
It'll be more difficult to accomplish, so as soon as night falls, he finds himself a couple humans to feed from before returning home to his bed. When he senses that you're asleep through your mental connection, he closes his eyes while picturing himself touching you.
His fingers meet your warm thighs and his mind goes completely haywire. Even through the dream walk you feel like absolute heaven to touch and it takes all of his willpower not to rush things. Knowing the wait will be worth it, he spends an ample amount of time moving his hands up and down your waist, hips, and thighs.
Once he grows too impatient, he finally rests his hand over your core after descending from your abdomen. He desperately wishes to see your reaction or smell your scent changing because of the arousal, but for now he’ll just keep imagining it. After waiting a moment for you to relax, he uses his fingers to part your folds so he can feel your pussy for the first time.
The sheer wetness and warmth of your cunt has his eyes rolling back as he bites his lip to refrain from moaning aloud. All he’s doing is moving his digits up and down your slit and yet his cock is straining against his pants. You feel unbelievable and exactly as he always knew you would, even without pushing his fingers inside of you.
He continue to play with you by spreading your essence around all night. He wants to do more; so much more, but he knows now is the most crucial time to move at a snails pace, so you acclimate to his touch to the point it’s the only thing you want and need.
When the morning comes, the first thing he does is pull his hard dick out of his pants to relieve the pressure that’s been building all night. Once he’s more confident in his abilities, he’ll be able to masturbate as he feels you up, but until then he’ll have to do so afterwards. In all honesty, his dream is to watch you jerk him off; to see your small hand wrapped around his cock as you pump him as fast as your humanity allows.
Jeongguk hasn’t masturbated in a long time, since he could easily find someone to fuck prior to meeting you, but now you occupy every single thought in his head and he can’t comprehend wanting to be with someone else when he has you.
Short, staccato grunts leave his mouth as he eagerly moves his hand up and down his cock, using the precum pooling on his tip to lubricate himself. He moans with his head buried in the pillows as an orgasm builds in his abdomen and before he can even fully enjoy the friction of his hand around his dick, he’s coming all over himself with a whine that sounds like your name.
It isn’t the last time he jacks off while waiting for you to return to him and as he continues to tease you by fondling your erogenous zones every night, you start sleeping even more.
You go to bed earlier, wake up later, and Jeongguk notices you begin napping the longer your ghostly affair goes on. It fills him with pride and satisfaction that he has you right where he wants you. It’s obvious you’re becoming just addicted to him as he is to you and he knows it’s only a matter of time before you can be together.
After about a month of touching you everywhere but within the walls of your cunt, Jeongguk decides it’s time to take your relationship to the next level.
He makes himself comfortable outside your window to watch, something he hasn’t done in quite some time, because there’s nothing he wants more than to see your reaction when he sinks his fingers deep inside you.
To his surprise and delight, he finds you alone in your room, meaning you’ll have no reason to hold back for the sake of waking someone else up.
Jeongguk’s eyes remain on your pretty face as he begins his nightly ritual. He’s sitting just below your window, in a hidden area that still gives him the perfect line of sight into your bedroom. It’s wintertime, so no one should be outside to catch him, but he still doesn’t want to risk being visible.
He waits until you’re fast asleep before shifting his shadowy presence from that of his hands to his mouth by kissing across one of your breasts. From his position outside he can see and hear your breath catch in your throat and it encourages him to continue relentlessly. He kisses and licks your chest, eventually latching onto one of your nipples and sucking on the sensitive skin. While his mouth is busy, one of his ghost-like hands descends to your core so he can play with your pussy to his heart's content.
He doesn’t tease you for long because he’s honestly dying to feel you, so upon deeming you wet enough, he pushes two of his fingers into your cunt to penetrate you for the first time.
Your tight, virgin hole sucks his digits into its warmth without him having to do any work, creating a feeling far better than his imagination could ever produce. The soaking wet, pulsing pussy wrapped around him drives him absolutely insane. Accompanied by the vision of you crying out and arching off the bed when he starts fucking you with his fingers, he feels so unbelievably satisfied the emotion seeps into his nightly song.
His eyes observe your every expression as he pleasures you in your dream and before long he joins in by palming himself. He’s rock hard and throbbing beneath the fabric of his jeans and if he wasn’t outside, he’d pull his cock out to get himself off alongside you.
It doesn’t take long for your climax to ramp up. Jeongguk can tell from both your body language and the way your pussy grips his fingers like a vice. He speeds up the pace of his own hand over his bulge so he can come with you and soon enough you both feel an unbelievably intense release from your individual orgasms.
Jeongguk uses his free hand to cover his mouth as he grunts, his hot cum soaking his underwear and revealing a wet patch on his denim. Meanwhile, your whole body is shaking as pleasurable tears roll down your cheeks and Jeongguk is beyond delighted at the sight of you writhing in ecstasy because of him.
Without thinking, he speaks both aloud and to your subconscious.
“Good girl, Y/N.”
He notices your eyebrows furrowing, but then you surprise him in return by replying.
“Jeongguk.”
His jaw goes slack at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue. He wasn’t even aware you knew his name, but the bond you share must’ve provided you with that information at some point.
You knowing who he is fills him with such pride and accomplishment that he happily responds to your call.
“That is right, my little mortal.”
Jeongguk continues making you come night after night for a couple more weeks and you seem to want it just as badly as him, seeing as you go to sleep almost every two hours like clockwork.
He certainly doesn’t mind fucking you with his hand or pleasuring your tits multiple times a day, especially because that’s his ideal cadence for when you become his mate. The issue is he grows comfortable with the routine, and when you break it one day by staying awake, he gets irrationally antsy.
After tracking your scent from your dorm room, he finds you in the library about thirty minutes before closing. You look to be studying, but Jeongguk can see your droopy eyes and slumped shoulders caused by exhaustion.
Since he’s been without you all day, he decides to use his proximity and your fatigue to his advantage by sending his presence to you while you’re awake.
The very second his hands graze your neck, you sigh in relief while your head lulls back, and as he continue down your torso, you spread your legs apart as though he’s actually there. Your innate reaction makes him chuckle. His claws are in you so deep and your obvious want for me makes him up the ante of your relationship yet again.
Rather than using his hands to pleasure you, he imagines himself licking a long stripe up your entire cunt before circling his tongue over your hole. He relentlessly eats you out, kissing and sucking on your wet pussy like a man starved. It’s not the same as it will be once he truly gets his hands on you, but that’ll be soon enough.
You taste fucking delicious and if it weren’t for you coming on his tongue in practically no time at all, he would go on for hours.
He doesn’t stop even as he’s swallowing your cum and you’re covering your mouth to suppress your loud, whimpering moans, but then he hears you crying his name and he removes his presence from your mind to grant you relief.
His eyes lock onto you afterwards, eager to see your reaction to his ministrations. Except when he peers into the window of the library again, you don’t look remotely happy and he can hear your blood pumping erratically in your veins. He watches you gather your things and rush out of the building towards your dorm and once you’re there, you press yourself against the door with your eyes shut while slowly inhaling and exhaling.
Did he scare you? It’s been months of him meeting you in your sleep and you’ve never once reacted like this.
It could be because you were awake or maybe using his mouth on you was too much. He vehemently hopes that isn’t the case and proceeds to follow you for the remainder of the night to ensure he didn’t ruin his carefully laid plans.
Unfortunately for him, your out of character behavior continues.
You seem to ask your friend to go out again and Jeongguk is forced to watch as you doll yourself up and head out with her to a bar or club where you’ll no doubt be interacting with human men. He follows you as always until you enter the establishment and he’s left outside to sense your movements rather than see them.
Although, you appear before him again far sooner than he expects by leaving hand-in-hand with some random man.
Jeongguk’s anxiety sky rockets as he observes you leading the man into an alley where you pull him in for a kiss. His nerves morph into pure, unadulterated anger, his hands practically shaking with fury as he stares at the scene before him of you making out with someone else.
Here he ate you out, most likely giving you one of your best orgasms to date, and you have the audacity to kiss some human a few hours later?
His emotions are about to get the better of him when he sees you push the man away and side step out of his embrace, instantly relieving his agony. The satisfaction is short-lived, though, because a moment later you’re being yanked back and pinned against the wall. The man kisses you again, obviously against your will, as you struggle helplessly to get him off you.
Jeongguk automatically sees red and within a split second he’s using his vampire speed to reach you so he can hit the man’s pressure point and knock him out cold.
He watches in disgust as the grimy creature falls to the ground with a pathetic thump.
“Humans should really stop touching what is not theirs,” he sneers.
When he glances towards you to check that you’re alright, you shock him by screaming bloody murder as soon as your eyes meet.
Your adverse reaction instantly frustrates him, as if he didn’t just save you from this punk. Regardless of his own feelings, he knows you’re only human and that adrenaline is likely running the show in lieu of logic, so he simply clicks his tongue before muffling your noises with his hand.
When you still attempt to scream even with him covering over your mouth, he steps forward to whisper in your ear.
“Shh. He is not dead, just unconscious.”
Jeongguk feels your entire body tense with realization and soon enough your cry for help turns into a pleading whimper, making him chuckle pridefully because of your quick recognition of his voice.
“I know, I know.” He steps back to see your pretty face. “I am excited to finally be face to face as well.” His voice seems to calm you and Jeongguk reactively brushes some hair out of your eyes. “Are you going to be my good girl and stay quiet for me?”
When you nod your head in response to his question, he drops his hand and gives you space to catch your breath.
“You’re… him.”
It’s the first time he’s hearing your voice up close and it has every neuron in his brain firing off.
“Him?”
“Jeongguk. That’s your name, right?”
He could hear you say his name over and over for hours and not grow tired of it.
“Yes, my darling.”
He’s wearing a saccharine smile because he simply can’t contain his happiness any longer. You’re finally right here in front of him where you truly belong.
“Why me?”
Your question gives Jeongguk pause and his eyebrow quirks up in response. It makes sense given the situation, but for him the answer is so obvious he doesn’t know how to properly verbalize it.
Instead of answering, he extends his hand towards you.
“Come with me and I will explain everything.”
Not an ounce of hesitation passes through you before you take his hand and Jeongguk internally celebrates as he leads you away from the alley.
The two of you walk hand-in-hand down winding back roads which run parallel to a large forest. Jeongguk doesn’t speak, but you can tell he’s perfectly content just holding your hand. You admire his handsome profile as you stroll and the feeling of being beside him after so long is both astonishingly surreal and totally natural. It should terrify you; he should terrify you, but you don’t feel anything close to fear.
“What are you?” You ask after a long time of comfortable silence.
Jeongguk smirks at your question before meeting your gaze.
“Would you like to guess?”
His antics make you chuckle. Here he is, some type of creature of the night, playing a guessing game with you. You play along regardless of the absurdity of the situation by tapping your chin with your free hand.
When you glance at him again, you allow your eyes to trace his features before answering him assuredly.
“Vampire.”
He smiles and it’s confirmation enough when you see his sharp fangs peaking out.
“Am I so obvious?”
“No,” you reply. “Just a hunch.”
Jeongguk stops abruptly and you follow suit, waiting patiently by his side for him to speak again.
“Are you scared, darling?”
“No.”
Your instantaneous response makes him smile again.
“Why not?”
It’s hard to explain given that you don’t truly understand your own emotions about the matter.
“I’m not sure to be honest. At this point, you’re just so familiar to me that I feel comfortable with you.” You sigh. “I am afraid of what you might do to me, though.”
Jeongguk’s brow creases as he invades your personal space by stepping closer.
“Do you think I would hurt you, precious?”
His reply makes your eyes roll.
“Well, you are a vampire. You know, the monsters who drink blood. Something I conveniently have plenty of,” you explain sarcastically.
He laughs while shaking his head back and forth.
“Oh, my little mortal, you truly believe I would spend months familiarizing you with my presence if I was just going to kill you upon meeting one another?”
You suppose he makes a great point since all his efforts would go to waste if he drank you dry right now.
“What do you want with me then?”
Jeongguk begins walking again, tugging you along by the hand so you can reach your destination and he can properly explain the answer to your inquiry.
When you reach a large mansion hidden amongst the tall trees of the forest, you know you’ve arrived without him saying as much.
Jeongguk leads you up the stone steps before opening the door and chivalrously offering you entry before himself. The home is beyond grand, with beautiful, ornate artwork and decor around every corner. It’s suited for someone as old as Jeongguk presumably is, but you wonder if it’s solely his.
“Do you live here alone?” You ask.
“No, I have a coven.”
He reclaims your hand to guide you down a long corridor left of the entrance.
“How many of you are there?”
Although you’re asking him question after question, your eyes are busy surveying every inch of the magnificent house.
“I have six older brothers, but there are people who stay here, too,” he explains.
“What… what do you mean?”
The idea of other humans being here sends shivers down your spine because you aren’t certain whether or not it’s by choice.
Jeongguk smiles while glancing back at you.
“You really are eager to know more, huh?”
Right on cue, he halts you in front of a wooden door. He doesn’t give you a chance to ask any questions before twisting the doorknob, revealing four women lounging on plush sofas and chairs.
“Hi, Jeongguk!” They cheer in unison.
“Good evening, ladies,” he greets them in return. “This is Y/N, the woman I have been telling you about.”
“Oh my gosh! Hello!” A beautiful blonde woman crosses the room to pull you into a hug. “It is so wonderful to finally meet you.”
You have no clue what the hell is going on, but you return her embrace out of politeness. She releases you to rejoin the others in the center of the room and the three remaining women wave.
“We have heard so much about you, Y/N,” a gorgeous brunette states.
The final two women nod in agreement while smiling graciously at you.
“These are my brother’s mates,” Jeongguk explains.
“Mates?”
Jeongguk nods before continuing.
“Vampires are very social creatures, so not only do we have covens, but many of us take on a human mate to be our lifelong companion.”
The scattered puzzle pieces of information begin clicking into place upon hearing his explanation and your blood runs cold when you realize what all of this means.
Jeongguk must notice you growing uncomfortable because he quickly waves goodbye before shutting the door and turning his attention back to you.
“C’mere, my darling,” he coos while taking your hand. “We can talk in my bedroom.”
Although your nerves are on the fritz and you aren’t sure if you want to hear more, you follow him in the opposite direction until you reach an open door framing a large, grandiose bedroom.
His room looks a lot like him; mysterious and dark, but full of old artifacts and deep, rich colors. Jeongguk allows you to enter first by gesturing for you to sit on his king bed and joins you once his bedroom door is closed behind him.
“You… you want me to be like them, is that it?”
Jeongguk’s eyes trace over your features before he responds.
“That is correct.”
You sharply inhale and stand to pace back and forth at the foot of his bed.
“What would that entail? I mean, how can I be your lifelong companion if you live forever?”
“There is a ritual that turns you immortal. Not a vampire, but you will be unable to die,” he calmly replies.
His answer only confuses you more.
“What’s the point? Wouldn’t you rather spend eternity with a vampire?”
“I cannot drink the blood of a fellow vampire.”
A beat of heavy silence passes, and then all of your bodily systems go on red alert and you run straight for the door without another thought, which is silly because Jeongguk is a vampire and moves at quadruple your speed.
“Y/N. Y/N, hold on.”
He reaches you before your hand can even graze the doorknob, snagging your waist and turning you around to face him.
“Let go of me!”
“I would never hurt you, YN, I swear,” he assures you.
“Please, I just want to go home,” you beg. Head falling to his shoulder, you grip his shirt in your hands in an act of pure desperation. “Please, Jeongguk.”
His fingers soothingly comb through your hair and despite your best interest, the repetitive motion calms your racing heartbeat.
“I will answer any questions you have, precious. Please do not go.”
While lifting your head to meet his reverent gaze, you take a deep breath in preparation for your next question.
“Do you love me?”
Jeongguk’s expression momentarily shifts into shock, but he quickly recovers.
“Love is a human emotion. It is not the proper way to describe my feelings for you,” he answers. “They say love is patient and kind, but I am neither of those things. The only reason I waited so long to introduce myself is because I did not want to scare you. Everything I do or have done is for my own selfish motivations.” He sighs and reaches out to caress your cheek with the back of his hand. “But I want you more than I have ever wanted something in my long life and I need you so bad I feel it in a heart that no longer beats. You consume my every thought and are the reason behind my every action, so if that is what you consider love, then I suppose I do.”
His words take your breath away and suddenly every ounce of fear in your body dissipates.
“You still haven’t told me why I’m the one you want.”
“The ritual only works if the human is a virgin,” Jeongguk answers.
Something about his response shatters your heart, because this isn’t about you, it’s about you being untouched, pure. Whether or not he loves you doesn’t matter when you’re merely a pawn to him.
You scoff while shaking your head, shoving his hand off of you and turning back to the door.
“I want to go home, Jeongguk.”
A loud sigh comes from behind you and the next thing you know, his strong arms are wrapping around your middle.
“You misunderstand, my pretty mortal. It is true you have to be a virgin to become my mate, but that is not why I chose you.” He presses a kiss to your nape and you involuntarily close your eyes in content. “I never intended on taking a mate until I saw you and became completely bewitched by your beauty, and later your mannerisms and personality. If you were not a virgin, I would merely turn you into a vampire to make you my companion.”
You wish you had the strength to pull away from him and leave, but everything about him is so addicting that you can’t bring yourself to move.
“What if I don’t want to be immortal?”
Jeongguk hums in thought while slowly kissing across your neck and shoulder.
“Do you not want to be with me?”
It’s a far too weighted question, but you attempt to answer truthfully anyway.
“I… I do, but it isn’t the same. We wouldn’t be able to grow old together or get married and have children,” you explain your point of view.
“That is true. I cannot offer you the same life a human male can, but no human can offer you what I can; pleasure you how I can,” he whispers in your ear.
His statement sends shivers down your spine and causes goosebumps to appear all over you. You have no comparison since you only know his touch, but you can’t imagine someone else ever making you feel how he does.
“I’ve waited my whole life to give my body to someone and always hoped it would only be one person,” you admit.
“It still can be,” he argues while brushing your hair away from your neck. His lips produce a dark, purple hickey on your skin and your head tips back in euphoria when he scrapes his fangs over the mark. “All you have to do is say the word and you will be all mine. Forever.”
His offer is all too enticing, and you have to rapidly shake your head to dispel your wild thoughts before turning to face him again.
“Why do you need my permission? You’re a vampire, aren’t you?”
One side of Jeongguk’s mouth curls up in a smirk.
“It is true I can make you do whatever I wish with the power of coercion, but I do not want to acquire a mate like that. You have to want it, want me, for yourself.”
“Have you ever used your powers on me?”
Jeongguk fervently shakes his head.
“Never.”
“How do I know you’re not lying?”
He chuckles in disbelief.
“You would know, darling.” You gesture with a wave of your hand for him to further explain. “When a vampire coerces you to do something, you feel it.”
“Show me,” you demand.
Jeongguk pauses as his eyebrows rise, but after a decisive moment he clicks his tongue and sets his sights on you, his brown eyes suddenly piercing and far darker than normal.
“Come.”
A crushing, unbearably heavy thought weighs down on your mind and without thinking or even flinching, your feet carry you to his side. He catches your waist once you’re close enough, but you can only feel his arm around you, not see it, because your brain and other four senses are too overloaded with his voice and intense aura.
When the sensation disappears after a second, you dramatically inhale to collect the air around you.
“Holy shit,” you gasp.
“See?” Jeongguk asks in a smug voice. “All I did was visit you in your dreams. Nothing more.”
“You ate me out while I was awake,” you correct him.
He smiles while tugging you closer until you’re nose to nose.
“Mm, yes. I just could not resist you a moment longer, my sweet little mortal.” One of his hands possessively cradles your jaw. “Perhaps I can convince you by showing you precisely what your future with me will look like.”
Your lips are only millimeters apart, your breath tangling together in the limited space between you and you want nothing more than to kiss him, but your conscience is still clouded with indecision.
Forcing yourself out of his embrace, you back away to keep a fair distance between you.
“Don’t you kill people?”
Jeongguk scoffs.
“Of course not.”
“Of course not? You’re a vampire, Jeongguk.”
“Darling, blood is a naturally replenishing resource. Why in the world would we kill people and have less of our only food source?”
All the vampire lore you’ve heard, read, or seen feels like a total betrayal when you hear his explanation, which arguably makes perfect sense.
“So then you just take a little bit of blood when you eat?”
Jeongguk sighs before taking a seat on the edge of his bed.
“It is roughly the same amount as if you were donating blood. Vampires have expert hearing so we know if we are taking too much based on the sound of it in your veins and the beat of your heart. On average, we feed from about two to three humans every couple days to remain fully satisfied,” he tells you.
“But if I were immortal, you could just drink from me without killing me,” you comment.
“Precisely, but many vampires do not exclusively feed from their mate and still hunt on occasion.”
“Why?”
“Well, you could compare it to eating the same meal for all eternity. Just as you would not want to eat chicken every night, we still enjoy some variety in our diet,” he replies.
You return to his side by sitting on the bed again.
“So not all blood tastes the same?” Jeongguk shakes his head. “What about mine?”
A mischievous smile spreads across his face.
“I have not tasted yours yet, precious.”
The conversation topic sets your nerves alight as you fiddle with your hands in your lap. This still feels unlike any reality you know of, but Jeongguk, and more important your feelings for him, are more real than anything else.
“Do you want to?”
“I do. You smell absolutely divine, my little mortal.” He reaches out to move your hair away and expose your jugular. His fingers trace along the large vein and even you can feel it pulsing with adrenaline. “I want nothing more than to sink my fangs into your soft, warm skin and drink the perfect blood coursing through your veins.”
Someone talking about consuming you shouldn’t have a positive effect and yet you find yourself rubbing your thighs together to relieve the sexual ache his words cause.
“Does it hurt?”
Jeongguk leans over to kiss the exact spot his fingers were.
“At first, but it feels good after the initial bite,” he answers honestly, all while continuing to kiss your throat.
You slowly inhale while collecting your racing thoughts. Every inch of your mind is saying something different, some in agreement and some not, but you don’t heed any of the warnings and turn your head to see Jeongguk’s lustful, hungry eyes staring back at you.
It’s been months of a one-sided, ghostly affair, and your need for his physical touch after all this time is so great you can hardly stand it.
“What was that about convincing me?”
Jeongguk doesn’t even wait a split second before grabbing your face and pulling you in for a damning kiss.
Par for the course of a vampire, he absolutely devours your mouth while you clutch his shirt between your fingers like a lifeline. His fingertips dig into your cheeks as his lips move in amorous, lewd circles to coax yours apart. Once he’s successful, he shoves his tongue inside and swirls it around so he can taste you. It’s not romantic or sweet as a first kiss probably should be, but you can’t seem to get enough as you press your face as close to his as possible and desperately chase after his lips.
Besides the sound of your wet mouths repeatedly meeting, all you hear are tandem moans and grunts as you kiss the air right out of each other’s lungs.
“Please, I have to have you,” Jeongguk begs between kisses.
You automatically grasp his face in both hands and move to straddle his lap, which he assists you with by wrapping an arm around your waist. He falls backwards onto the bed, bringing you with him without ever ceasing the feverish lip lock. On instinct you start grinding in his lap and Jeongguk reacts with a growl as he uses one hand to guide your hips.
It quickly becomes difficult to catch your breath while you hump the evident tent in his pants and continue kissing him senseless.
“Show me, Jeongguk. Show me everything,” you whimper.
Your words seem to light a fire inside of him and he releases your face so both of his hands can push and pull your cunt over his jeans. He stops maiming your lips and travels across your visage one kiss at a time until he reaches your neck, painting your throat with bruises and saliva while you pant in ecstasy.
“I will only bite you if you want me to, darling. Just say the word.”
Perhaps it’s unfair of him to suggest such a divisive act while your mind is hazy with lust, but deep down you know it’s his absolutely unbridled control over you that causes you to answer without any hesitation.
“Do it.”
Armed with your consent, Jeongguk wastes no time at all before flipping you both over and tugging your hair aside so he can savagely bite into your neck.
When his fangs pierce your skin, you scream as an overwhelming pain washes over you, but once he starts sucking on your throat and lapping up the blood pouring out of you, the sensation is so pleasurable the sound morphs into a delirious moan.
It’s sloppy, filthy, and a complete mess as blood seeps from the wound down your neck, chest, and even across your shoulder until it’s soaking the sheets. Jeongguk doesn’t seem to mind one bit and continues drinking from your vein like it's water.
In a complete betrayal to your own humanity, feeling him consume your very life source is somehow so sensual you find yourself lacing your fingers through his hair to tug on the black strands. He grunts in response and you feel his dick growing rock hard in his jeans, making you so aroused in return that your hips begin to chase his bulge as he feeds from you.
His fangs recedes from your skin when he begins licking his bite mark and the surrounding area to catch spilled blood. He trails his tongue down the river of red liquid on your chest until it disappears beneath your shirt before returning to your lips to kiss you with his blood stained mouth.
You gasp at the coppery taste of your own blood as it smears across your face and drips onto your tongue when he forces his own between your teeth. Making out with a vampire who’s just finished feeding from you should be disgusting and terrifying, but you’re soaking wet while tangling your tongue with his amongst all the blood.
“So good, my darling. Your blood tastes so fucking good,” Jeongguk praises.
He pulls back to admire you and you return the favor. The bottom half of his face is covered in blood and yet he still looks so handsome. It’s in his hair and some of it even got on his ears, but his wild appearance only makes you want him more. His thumb moves the blood around your cheeks and chin before stopping at your lips to push the digit inside. You respond automatically by hollowing your cheeks around him and gazing up with big, innocent eyes.
“Oh, my little mortal, just like that.” His eyes turn into deep pools of desire as he moves his finger in and out of your mouth. “Fuck, I cannot wait for you to suck my cock.”
You release him from between your lips and quickly catch your breath.
“Then let me,” you unabashedly beg. “Please?”
Jeongguk’s eyes go wide at your request.
“Do you even know how?”
A sly smile appears on your face.
“In theory, but you can teach me, can’t you?”
In addition to your question, you take the time to lick the blood off each of Jeongguk’s remaining fingers while holding his gaze. His eyes turn into thin slits in response to your teasing and he starts removing his belt before he even answers you.
“I am not a human, Y/N. I will not go easy on you,” he warns.
“Good,” you reply unapologetically. “I don’t want you to.”
Jeongguk sinisterly smiles while moving off of you. Once his back meets the wall facing his bed, he calls you to him with his pointer finger. Obeying without a second thought, you rise to stand in front of him with eager anticipation.
“Kneel.”
He isn’t using coercion and yet you instantaneously follow his demand by dropping to your knees. The plush rug provides some comfort as you await his next instruction, which he seems to be debating on as he combs your hair away from your face. After tucking some stray pieces behind your ear, he traces your jaw with his fingertip before lifting your chin so you’re staring up at him.
He’s wearing a proud and undeniably erotic expression, his pupils blown wide with his mouth slightly agape. It’s obvious how much he wants you and your own chest fills with pride the longer you’re on your knees for him.
All while maintaining steamy eye contact, he starts unbuttoning his jeans to kick them off. The first thing you notice is a wet spot on the boxers hugging his thick, muscular thighs and it nearly makes you moan.
“Tongue out,” he commands.
You immediately do as you're told and it satisfies him enough to reward you by removing his underwear as well. When he does, the sight of his hard cock makes a loud, broken gasp come from your open mouth.
To put it plainly, his dick is huge, both in length and girth. You don’t technically have anything to compare it to, but you can tell what’s big and what isn’t, especially when it’s that big.
“Is that a vampire thing?” You ask after shutting your mouth.
Jeongguk’s head tilts in confusion.
“Are you asking if vampirism has an impact on penis size?” When you nod, Jeongguk laughs out loud and for a moment he doesn’t look like a creature of the night, but the boy next door. “No, precious, it does not.”
“How old are you again?”
“More than five hundred, less than a thousand,” he responds. “I am not exactly certain anymore.”
You shake your head while admiring his cock twitching right in front of your face.
“Maybe men were just built different back then,” you wonder.
Jeongguk seems amused by your affectionate rambling, but refocuses your attention by cupping your cheek.
“Open wide, my sweet mortal.”
You stick your tongue out as he caresses your cheek in admiration of you completely submitting yourself to him. There’s a triumphant smile on his face as he pumps himself before guiding his dick towards your awaiting lips. You attempt to keep your eyes on his face, but the sight of his tip coming closer has you going cross-eyed as your heart hammers in your chest and when the head of his cock presses down on your tongue, his masculine taste sends your eyes rolling back.
Despite his earlier warning, he’s unexpectedly gentle as he steadily pushes his length deeper into your mouth.
“Wrap your lips around me,” he quietly instructs.
You do so while tentatively sucking on his shaft as his tip finds a home in the confines of your throat. He’s so thick that your lips are stretched to the max, but the pressure and ache in your jaw is surprisingly pleasurable.
When you bat your eyelashes up at him, Jeongguk looks supremely pleased with your actions so far and a groan comes from deep within his chest at the feeling of your warm mouth encompassing him.
“Good girl.”
Humming in response, you keep your eyes on him while experimentally moving your head closer to his pelvis. The more cock you take into your mouth, the louder Jeongguk’s noises become and the hand on your face possessively sinks into your hair so he can hold you right where he wants you.
“That is right, darling. Just keep moving your head back and forth.”
You pull back while inhaling before pushing forward again in an attempt to take more of him into your throat.
Jeongguk grunts and yanks on your hair when you’re successful and he can feel your esophagus constricting around him. His sounds of pleasure encourage you to keep going and you set a steady pace by bobbing your head while continuously sucking on his shaft. It’s easier than you expected, especially with Jeongguk’s hand on your head helping to guide your movements.
When your nose finally reaches his pubic bone, his head tips back as he growls deep in his throat.
“Breathe… through… your nose,” he orders across shaky exhales. “While using… your tongue.”
It seems even without any experience you’re still driving him mad and you feel infinitely smug. You take his advice and inhale through your nostrils so you can lick the underside of his cock when you retreat again. Before sinking back down, you swirl your tongue over his head and the taste of his precum makes you moan.
He responsively gasps and clutches your hair in his fist as your vibrations meet his cock and once you realize it feels good for him, you repeat the noise while his tip is nestled deep in your throat.
“Holy fuck.” Jeongguk looks down at you in complete awe. “You are doing so well, precious.”
Although his compliments make you want to continue even more, you momentarily release him to breathe deeply and massage your jaw.
“You don’t have to hold back, Jeongguk.”
His eyes widen as his eyebrows rise up his forehead, then a cheshire grin appears.
“Do you believe I am holding back for your sake?” He bends over while yanking on your hair so you’re forced to look up into his fierce gaze. “I am just getting started, mortal.”
He whispers the moniker like venom rather than his normal, endeared tone, but it lights you up inside far more than the sweet version of the phrase.
Jeongguk uses his grip to return your head to its previous position and before you can properly prepare, his cock is in your mouth again and you’re choking on his head as it settles in your throat.
“Do not forget to breathe,” he teases.
It’s his final instruction before thrusting forward, causing you to aggressively gag on his dick as he fucks your throat with relentless effort. You desperately clutch his thighs to keep yourself from falling backwards. Once you’re steady, you focus on suctioning your lips around him so his length can seamlessly move in and out of your mouth.
If you still had any doubts about Jeongguk being a monster, they all fly out the window due to his erotic assault on your throat.
Truthfully, this moment should have you running for the hills because he clearly cares more about his pleasure than the well being of your esophagus, but after months of him making you see stars, you figure it’s time to return the favor.
Your nails sink into the meat of his thighs in an effort to hold onto anything you can, including your sanity, but the longer he pushes his cock into your mouth, the easier it becomes and soon enough you begin licking along his shaft during each of his strokes.
Jeongguk seems grateful for your diligence, if his incoherent moans and grunts are anything to go by.
“Oh fuck, darling. Your throat is so fucking tight,” he whines.
When you respond with a pleased hum while his tip is tickling the back of your throat, he gasps in ecstasy and scratches your scalp. He picks up the already monstrous pace afterwards and you have no choice but to hold onto his legs for dear life, bringing tears to your eyes while drool drips from the corners of your mouth and down your chin.
A noise of surprises passes through your swollen lips when Jeongguk’s other hand steals one of your own to cup his balls that are covered in the saliva leaking from your mouth. You peer upwards with wide eyes and he smirks before providing an answer to your silent question.
“Gently.”
Taking his comment into account, you begin softly fondling his balls which you can tell are heavy with the cum you’ll soon be swallowing. Feeling them in your hand is totally foreign and you aren’t sure how well you’re doing, but Jeongguk’s euphoric expression as you play with his sack is encouraging enough.
You synthesize the movements of your mouth and hand, doing your best to match the cadence of his hips as he repeatedly sends his cock into your throat. While your tongue swirls around his velvet skin and caresses the large veins on his shaft, your fingers continue to massage his balls that are nearly slapping you with each thrust.
“Yes,” he enthusiastically moans as his head hits the wall behind him. “There you go, my darling.”
There’s something so unequivocally sexy about him teaching you how to pleasure him that sets every nerve ending in your body ablaze. Your sore jaw, swollen lips, chin that’s coated in a mixture of spit and dried blood, and cheeks covered in runny, black mascara are all worth it because you’re finally able to be with the man who’s haunted your dreams and consumed all your thoughts for so long.
“When I tell you…” Jeongguk groans through strained vocal chords. “Take me as deep as you can to swallow my cum.”
Nodding to the best of your ability with him still stuffed between your lips, you brace yourself for the feeling of his cum shooting down your throat.
It only takes another minute or so for his balls to clench in your palm and his dick to pulse with an impending orgasm and despite being able to predict what’s about to occur, Jeongguk warns you regardless.
“Fuck. Now.”
You avidly inhale through your nose before pushing your head forward until his entire length is resting in your mouth with his tip deep in your throat. He growls while using your hair to hold you in place as his thighs shake and he comes in hot ropes of white liquid.
A loud gagging sound accompanies his climax as you swallow everything he’s giving you, the unfamiliar but pleasant taste eventually making you moan once his seed stops dripping from the head of his cock.
Even once his orgasm ends, you continue moving your head to lick along his warm skin and clean the remnants of his pleasure off of him.
“Y/N, be careful what you do to me. You will not be able to handle another round,” he states.
Releasing his cock with a loud pop, you sit back on your heels while gazing up at him.
“Don’t you need time before going again?”
Jeongguk chuckles while shaking his head, the hand in your hair slowly releasing the strands to slide back down your cheek and wipe away your tears.
“No. As I told you, I am not a human. I do not need to rest or take breaks. I can go all day and night without stopping even once.” The notion of him fucking you without reprieve makes your pussy clench as your thighs twitch with need and he obviously notices the reaction based on the smile he sends you. “Would you like that, my little mortal?” You mindlessly nod. “I can make that happen, precious, but the decision is yours.”
He’s referring to you becoming his mate, an immortal who could keep up with his insatiable need.
“How does the ritual go?”
Your voice shakes as you ask him about the life altering event and he attempts to comfort you by offering you his hands so you can stand up.
“It is not really a ritual. I just have to come inside of you, your womb, more specifically.”
“That’s it?” Jeongguk nods and you take a couple steps back to sit on his bed. “Would I have to live here like those women?”
“Not if you do not wish to,” he answers. “Although, I am rather greedy, so you will have to be mine as soon as the sun goes down each night.” He pulls his boxers back up and occupies the spot beside you. “You will still be a human and can live life normally for a while, but once your lack of aging becomes noticeable, it would be best for you to stay with me to avoid suspicion.”
A million thoughts swirl in your head as you think about your options and the subsequent consequences. You want Jeongguk more than anything else and that scares you because in order to have him, you have to sacrifice everything you’re looking forward to. If you choose to remain as you are and leave his side, will you ever be able to find someone to compare? Will you regret not accepting his offer of spending eternity together?
“Do they enjoy their life here?”
Jeongguk smiles assuredly while nodding his head.
“You are more than welcome to ask them any questions you have.” He gestures towards the hallway where you met the women. “They each have their own bedrooms, too. The room you saw is just a lounge we established for them, although most of them sleep with their mates.”
You sigh while pressing your palms into your eyes as a means of focusing. This is all too much at the moment and you don’t know if it’s even possible to decide tonight.
“I’ll need to think about it, Jeongguk,” you respond.
He removes your hands from your face so he can hold them instead.
“Of course, my darling. Take all the time you need.” A lingering moment passes before Jeongguk reaches out to run his hands along your thigh. “In the meantime, I would still love to pleasure you. Doing so through our mental connection is not enough for me anymore.”
His statement brings a pink blush to your cheeks and you automatically lean in to kiss him, albeit much softer and slower than your first one. He responds immediately, bringing his other hand up to your cheek as you mold your lips together.
“Touch me like you did in my dreams, Jeongguk,” you quietly plead.
He continues to kiss you rather than respond, but his answer comes when he lays you down and proceeds to crawl on top of you.
You shamelessly make out as he hovers on his forearms above you, the mixture of blood, cum, and salvia on your tongues creating an erotic concoction in your mouths. Jeongguk takes his time exploring your body as though he doesn't intimately know every curve already, but you can both agree it feels so much better touching each other in person rather than your mind.
“I am going to take my time with you, precious. Do not attempt to rush me.”
Jeongguk gives you a final peck before kissing your neck and collarbones that are still stained with blood. He groans in delight at the taste of the potent liquid while he ceaselessly ravishes your soft, sensitive skin.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you breathe out.
“Do I have free reign to bite you wherever I please?”
He glances up so your eyes meet when he asks, wanting to see your reaction to his question.
The visceral memory of him feeding from you earlier makes you shiver.
“As long as you don’t take too much.”
When he sends you a dashing smile in response, your heart sings.
“I am quite the pro, you do not need to worry about that.”
The conversation ends with a harsh sound of fabric tearing and when you look down, your shirt is ripped in half to expose your bra and bare torso.
“Jeongguk!”
He giggles, a hundreds of years old vampire giggles at your poor, tattered shirt as he removes it from underneath you and unceremoniously tosses it on the floor. Before you can protest further, he returns to kissing and sucking on your throat.
“You.” He kisses you. “Your clothes.” Again, only an inch away from his last smooch. “Your possessions.” Another kiss. “Your body.” Kiss. “And your very soul.” Kiss. “Are all mine.” He kisses your pulse point. “I will do what I please with them.”
If you could argue against his claim, you would, but you know just how true it is.
When Jeongguk realizes you have no retort, he smirks and continues kissing down your front until he reaches the curve of your breasts. He cups them in his large hands and massages you over your bra, making your head fall back into the pillows as you whimper.
Just like your shirt, your poor undergarment is torn to shreds so he can see your tits unhindered. His initial glimpse must be enjoyable, given that you hear an animalistic growl coming from above you before you feel him mouthing at your skin.
“You are so soft, darling,” he notes while squeezing and kissing your boobs. “I could do this all night.”
His tongue peaks out for a lick before his teeth gingerly sink into your flesh. He gives the same treatment to your other breast, alternating between kissing, licking, and biting you until he eventually takes your nipple between his teeth.
You whine as he sucks on the nub to make it pebbled and hard while his hand tweaks the other to match. Even though he’s only fondling your chest, you can feel your cunt practically leaking essence all over you. His hands and mouth are a perfect team who work seamlessly in tandem to drive you insane.
“It feels… so much better… in person,” you pant.
Jeongguk nods in agreement where his face is still buried in your cleavage, but rather than responding to you, he lifts his head, harshly squeezes your tit, and pierces it with his fangs.
A scream rips from your throat as he sucks your blood straight from the source since he’s right above your heart. Dark, red liquid erratically spills from the wound and runs down the valley between your breasts like a river as your entire torso gets painted crimson.
“Fuck,” Jeongguk curses. He takes a break to lap up the thick blood with his tongue as more and more pours out of you. “You are s’fucking delicious.”
He returns to the scene of the crime to drink some more as you moan and writhe beneath him.
When he’s done feasting on you, he licks downwards to circle your nipple with the tip of his tongue before imitating the motion on your opposite breast. The fusion of pain and pleasure sends your mind into subspace and you lose all focus on everything but the man above you.
You think he’s going to keep trailing down your torso to reach the pussy that’s weeping essence for him, but his lips return to yours once he’s done making a mess of you.
“Je.. Jeongguk,” you whimper into his mouth. He hums in response while using his bloody hand to cradle your cheek. “Need you.”
“Where, precious?”
He kisses the corner of your mouth and up your cheek until his lips are on your temple. Meanwhile, you’re still in such a daze that it’s hard to answer him properly.
“Please, just touch me,” you weakly reply.
You can feel Jeongguk smiling where his mouth is on your skin and his lips momentarily caress your forehead before he moves away so you’re eye to eye again.
“Do you want me to play with your pussy, my darling? Hmm?”
All you can bring yourself to do is nod as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down for another messy kiss.
While you continue locking lips and sharing oxygen, Jeongguk’s hands glide down your stomach to ruin the rest of your wardrobe by ripping your pants and underwear off in one go. Once you’re completely bare underneath him, you return the favor by grabbing the bottom hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. He stops kissing you so you can remove the top, but he isn’t able to kiss you again afterwards because you’re busy ogling him.
“Damn.” As if his extraordinarily handsome face wasn’t enough, his torso is chiseled to perfection and he has not six, but eight pretty abdominal muscles. “This isn’t a vampire thing either?”
He steals a kiss while chuckling at your question.
“No, all me.”
“Insane,” you comment under your breath.
Jeongguk still hears you and his face scrunches up because of how big his adoring smile is.
“You are truly such an adorable little human.”
You’re too busy running your fingers along his taut muscles to acknowledge the compliment, but he forcibly reclaims your attention by kissing you again.
His hands spread your legs apart so he can settle between them before tracing along your skin starting at your knees. He squeezes your supple thighs between his fingers while traveling upwards until his hands finally reach your pussy. When his digits force your folds apart to feel your wet sex pulsing just for him, you both moan in one another’s mouth. Although him touching your cunt is familiar, the previous times are nothing in comparison to having him in person.
Unlike those nightly rendezvouses, he doesn’t waste any time teasing you and immediately sinks his fingers into your hole with a loud squelch.
“Oh,” you harshly gasp.
Him fucking you with his hands and mouth via a mental connection means you’re still technically a virgin and this is the first time someone else’s hand will be inside you. His fingers are significantly longer and bigger than yours, so he only needs two of them to stretch you open.
“Shh, you can take it,” he whispers against your lips.
He starts pumping his digits in and out of you at a steady pace, using his palm to rub your clit simultaneously. Despite the unfamiliar pressure in your core, the dual sensations feel amazing and all you can think is that you wouldn’t mind having this, having him, forever. You can imagine yourself 20, 30, and 100 years from now still wanting him just as infinitely as you do today.
Jeongguk pulls you from your reverie when he begins using his thumb to circle your clit at the same time he speeds up the cadence of his two middle fingers.
“Fuck, that feels so good,” you tell him.
“Mm, I can feel you clenching around me,” he replies. “Are you going to come, my darling?”
When you don’t answer right away, Jeongguk bites on your lower lip, tugging on it with his teeth before letting it snap back into place. The sting makes you gasp, but he swallows the noise when he forces his tongue into your mouth again.
“Yes,” you manage to respond.
The assurance encourages him to speed up again as he repeatedly makes a come hither motion inside your cunt, tickling the just right spot inside you to send your eyes rolling backwards into your skull.
“Come for me, little mortal.”
It’s all too easy to follow his command when he’s a goddamn expert at fucking his digits into you.
When you come, it’s more intense than all of the times he’s made you orgasm combined and you have to claw at his biceps just to hold onto something because of how overwhelming it is.
Jeongguk continues kissing you through the high, if you can even call it a kiss when you’re too busy moaning to return the affection. Your body shakes in his hold as a climax more pleasurable than anything you’ve ever felt in your life courses through you. His fingers are still deep within you gummy walls while your cunt tightens and leaks cum all over his hand, but he keeps going even when you whine from the overstimulation.
He ends your kiss with a final peck before removing his cum-soaked fingers from your hole and you watch in complete adoration as he places them in his mouth to lick them clean.
“Fucking hell,” he groans around the two appendages.
“Does my cum taste as good as my blood?” You tease.
His responding smirk reignites the arousal in your core and despite your body desperately craving a break, you’re already ready for more.
Jeongguk snatches your jaw before pulling his hand away from his mouth so he can shove his fingers into yours instead. You gasp in surprise as he gags you by pushing down on your tongue, a devilish grin appearing on his face as he watches you struggle with a lustful fire in his eyes.
“You tell me.”
His hand quickly retreats so you can answer him, but first you sharply inhale while clutching your throat to refill your lungs.
“Cum… the cum tastes better,” you tell him.
He chuckles while placing his elbows on either side of your head to hover over you as close as possible.
“Surprisingly, I agree with you.” Jeongguk kisses you for a mere second before descending until his face is directly above your cunt. “Which is precisely why I want more of it.”
“Wait — ah!”
Your nerve endings are still tingling from your last orgasm, but Jeongguk doesn’t seem to care as he tauntingly laps up the cum glistening on your pussy. His tongue moves from bottom to top multiple times to collect the wetness before swallowing it with a satisfied hum. Meanwhile the oversensitivity is causing your legs to aggressively shake and clamp around his head from all the pressure in your abdomen and thighs.
“I want you to come on my tongue before I fuck you, my darling.”
He kisses your clit once and then moves down to kiss along your inner thighs.
“I thought I have to be a virgin to become your mate,” you retort.
Jeongguk is too busy smooching and sucking on your skin to respond at first, but he eventually gives your thigh a playful bite before glancing up.
“Technically, but in reality it means I must be your one and only sexual partner. So us having sex tonight will not ruin the ritual for later,” he explains. You still look hesitant and Jeongguk tries to pacify you by gently kissing your supple skin. “Would you like that, precious?”
At this point the two of you are covered in a mixture of bodily fluids and the bottom half of Jeongguk’s face is stained light pink from your cum and blood, but he still looks so handsome and somewhat boyish for a creature of the night. His big, brown eyes are gazing up at you expectantly and you can’t imagine telling him no as you comb his messy hair away from his forehead.
“Yes, please,” you whisper to him.
He smiles and returns to ravishing your thighs with his mouth while you contentedly sigh and lace your fingers into his black hair.
Just when you think he’ll reclaim your cunt, you cry out because he pierces your inner thigh with his fangs and begins drinking your blood again. It’s less frenzied this time, his lips almost leisurely sucking on your skin to consume you. The stark difference causes you to pathetically whimper as the feeling turns your mind into mush.
Jeongguk releases you quicker than before, but proceeds to slurp up the remaining blood on your leg.
“I have never tasted blood as good as yours, Y/N.” He languidly runs his tongue through the liquid while staring up at you. “If I could still use the lord’s name in vain, I would.”
“You can’t?”
He shakes his head between sloppy kisses along your skin until he reaches your cunt again.
“There are not many things vampires are unable to do, but that is one of them.”
“What else?”
Jeongguk chuckles before curling the tip of his tongue through your pussy and effectively silencing you.
“Later, my darling.”
You certainly don’t mind cutting the conversation short so he can make out with your sex, especially since your body’s had time to relax from your initial orgasm.
While he licks along your slit and circles your hole with the tip of his tongue, he situates your thighs on his shoulders so he has better access to you. His arms wrap around each leg to hold you steady and when you begin writhing with pleasure, he tightens his grip to keep you in place.
His mouth masterfully produces stars behind your eyelids and he uses his evident talent to pull more juices from your hole that he spreads around your lips for an easier glide. It feels messy and sinful, but also so good you think you could climax again in an instant.
After a while of lackadaisically swirling his tongue through your folds and fucking your hole, he moves upwards to flatten the wet muscle on your clit. The delicious friction makes you whine and your tears of pleasure from earlier return to create more streaks of mascara down your face.
You’re surprised by his relaxed pace while he eats you out, but you soon realize he was just ramping up for the main event when his fangs teasingly scrape your clit.
“Jeongguk…”
“This will feel good, Y/N.”
That’s the only warning you receive before he growls and bares his fangs so he can bite right into your cunt.
The scream which pierces the air is your loudest one yet and you nearly suffocate him when your legs convulse from the intense sensation washing over you. He’s drinking your blood while continuing to flick his tongue over your pearl and the combination of the two actions is indescribable. When you still can’t refrain from flailing around, his fingertips dig into the meat of your thighs so he can literally eat your pussy undisturbed.
“Oh fuck, Jeongguk,” you helplessly whimper.
You can’t tell if the euphoria is making your mind blank or you’re simply losing too much blood, but you can’t bring yourself to care. It feels too good to ask him to stop and you don’t believe he would even if you did.
An orgasm begins to loom over you embarrassingly fast and you can’t even warn him before you’re coming all over his face while you cry out and desperately grip his hair between your fingers.
Jeongguk repeatedly grunts and moans as he simultaneously feasts from you and swallows your cum. It feels like heaven and hell are combining in your cunt and you have no idea which way is up or down anymore. His fangs are flanking your clit and as your core pulses through the high, more blood flows from the wound right into his awaiting mouth.
“Holy… shit…” you deliriously mumble.
He removes his fangs but continues to lick you, both to clean up all the blood and ensure he’s pleasuring you throughout the entire climax.
Once your body and mind settle into normalcy and you feel like you can breathe again, Jeongguk kisses along your torso, licking your dried blood as he goes until he can kiss you and make you taste yourself on his tongue.
“I have wanted to do that for so long, my little mortal,” he confesses. “The very second I laid eyes on you I knew you would be mine. I must have you, Y/N, or I will go mad.”
His words act like a magical spell and you nearly tell him to do it; take you completely and make you his for all time. Alas, a rational voice inside your head stops you and you refrain from uttering the life changing words by softly kissing him.
He returns the gentle affection with a content sigh. His warm, soft lips are swollen from all his previous efforts, but they still feel wonderful against your own. He slowly marries his mouth to yours, allowing your tongues to dance together inside your mouth and you eventually reach up to caress his cheek so he doesn’t go anywhere. Despite how nasty and devious the two of you have been tonight, the kiss is delicately passionate.
“Please don’t break me,” you murmur.
He snickers before pulling away to look at you. One of his hands cups your jaw while he runs his thumb along your cheekbone and it feels so calming you momentarily close your eyes.
“Do not worry, my darling. I promise I will make it worth the wait.”
Your eyes catch the movement of him removing his boxers and it causes your heart to pick up its pace. When you see his cock again, you begin to wonder what cards you pulled to exist in this reality, one where you’re about to lose your virginity to someone so entirely gorgeous all over.
Jeongguk begins coating his length in your cum by gliding the tip through your pussy and you distract yourself with running your hands all along his shoulders and biceps, eventually digging your nails into his skin when he teases your clit with the head of his cock. It’s common to be nervous for your first time, but uncommon for said time to be with a vampire. Ironically, you trust him more than any of the men back on campus with something as fragile as this.
When he’s sufficiently lubricated, he lines himself up with your hole and you take a deep breath while screwing your eyes shut.
“No, no,” Jeongguk scolds you, using his fingertips to lift your chin up. “Look at me.”
Your eyes meet per his instructions and you almost forget he’s not human for a second. His pretty irises look like they have stars in them and you nearly melt under his ardent gaze.
“I know it isn’t the same for you, but this means a lot to me,” you tell him.
His head tilts as a confused expression crosses his face.
“You think this does not mean anything to me?”
“I —”
“I have waited hundreds of years to find you, Y/N.”
You’re too awestruck to think of an appropriate reply, so you pull his face down to yours for a searing kiss instead.
Jeongguk’s free hand lands right beside your face to hold himself up as he slowly pushes his cock into you, using the avid lip lock as a distraction for the pain you’ll no doubt feel when he penetrates you for the first time.
When his head passes through your tight circle of nerves, you animalistically scratch down his arms to relieve the pressure of him steadily filling you up. He shushes you and kisses across your face to keep you at ease, knowing if he hurts you tonight, you won’t trust him enough to become his mate. Besides, he wants to bring you as much pleasure as possible.
“You’re… so… big,” you grunt as he enters you inch by thick inch.
You hear his bashful, melodic chuckle in your ear.
“I know, but I swear I will not ‘break you,’” he teases.
It takes some time for him to fully sheath himself inside you, but once his dick is pressing against your cervix, you release the air you were holding in while he groans and buries his face in your neck.
“Does it feel good?” You ask him. “I know you’ve been with plenty of women before me.”
He chuckles and presses a kiss to the wound he gave you earlier tonight.
“None of them compare to you.” His eyes find yours and it’s easy to see just how much pleasure he’s experiencing from being inside you. “You are fucking perfection, my sweet mortal.”
You cradle his face to admire him for a moment and you swear he almost looks shy over your affectionate stare.
“Will you tell me what it feels like?”
Jeongguk’s brow creases at the unique request, but he grins and complies with a nod. He waits until his lips are beside your ear again and even taunts you by licking along the perimeter of your earlobe.
“You feel like heaven. You are so tight that I can feel your warm walls rubbing against every inch of my cock and so wet you are practically drowning my dick in cum.” His words send a shudder down your spine as he bites on your ear to make you moan for him. “I could have anyone I want, my darling, but I am willing to give all that up just so I can have you for all eternity.”
He’s doing a ridiculously wonderful job at convincing you to accept his offer and let him fuck his seed into you, but you push the thought away.
There’s no turning back and you wouldn’t want to anymore, so you inhale and grasp his shoulders in preparation.
“Fuck me, Jeongguk.”
Those seem to be the magic words to make Jeongguk clutch your hipbone while rearing back so he can completely leave your cunt save for his cockhead. You whine at the sudden emptiness, but it isn’t for long before he menacingly thrusts back in all the way to the hilt.
Tears instantly prick your eyes as you scream and whimper from the mixture of pain and pleasure. Your veins, nerves, and organs feel like they’re on fire as he naturally sets a disastrous pace of sliding in and out of you.
You aren’t sure if sex always feels this good or if it’s just sex with Jeongguk, but as the ache slowly dissipates, it makes way for the most amazing sensation you’ve ever felt.
“Oh, Jeongguk. Holy shit.”
He’s entirely focused on fucking you with all his might, but he lifts his head from your neck to look down at you.
“Does it feel good, precious?”
You attempt a nod as hot, salty tears fall and make you look like even more of a mess, but Jeongguk just reaches up to wipe the liquid away.
Raking your fingers into his hair, you yank him down for a kiss that seems to motivate him to up the pace of his hips which are already rocking into you with inhumane speed. The change has you crying and writhing in ecstasy within seconds and Jeongguk responds by pinning your hips to the mattress.
When you still can’t refrain from wiggling, he hooks his arm under your knee and forces your leg up higher.
The angle brings his pelvis down on top of yours and sends his dick even further into you, making you gasp and sob from the fullness. You instinctively mirror the position with your opposite leg until you’re practically bent in half and Jeongguk clearly enjoys the adjustment because he growls and stops kissing you to heave out a couple deep, panting breaths.
“Fuck, I do not know what I will do if you say no.” The hand carrying his weight moves to your neck. “You have completely ruined me for anyone else. This tight, fucking immaculate pussy is all I can think about.”
You wrap your fingers around his wrist so you have something to anchor yourself to while he continuously pounds into your cunt.
He lightly chokes you, successfully ceasing your air supply and making the sex feel that much more debilitating. His cock is reaching so far up inside you that it’s almost like his tip is choking you rather than his hand and his reverent confession doesn’t help your dizziness.
“You say that as if I’m not in the exact same boat.” He removes his hand from your throat so you can continue. “For months now all I’ve known is your voice, touch, and presence and I have no idea what I’ll do if that goes away.”
His fingers rake into your hair before tugging on it and tilting your head back to give him access to your neck. He kisses you while his cock abuses your cunt to the point the entire room fills up with the noise of your bodies clapping together. He’s giving you even more bruises as he sucks on your skin and the harmony between his mouth and the big cock stretching you apart is enough to make you forget what you were saying in the first place.
Jeongguk’s other hand is still clutching your thigh and you wonder if his fingerprints will be left on your skin in the morning, as if he hasn’t already marked you as his ten times over, both metaphorically and physically.
“I will not let that happen. I will do everything in my power to convince you that being with me is worth it,” he finally replies.
You wish you could properly explain that it has nothing to do with him and everything to do with what you’ll lose. There’s a picturesque future in your head and you don’t know if you’re ready to give up on it.
“Jeongguk —”
“My precious, beautiful mortal.”
His adoring words melt your insides and silence anything waiting on the tip of your tongue, so you run your nails down his back as a means of expressing what you don’t know how to vocalize.
He groans at the sensation while readjusting his hands, pressing you deeper into the mattress so he can amp up the speed and force of his strokes. It makes you scratch at his shoulder blades again as the sheer brutality of his hips shoves you further and further up the bed.
“Jeongguk, I’m close,” you inform him.
“So am I, darling. Where do you want me to come?”
Remembering that he can’t finish inside you without changing your entire body chemistry, you glance down at your torso to decide on the ideal location for his seed.
“My tits?”
A boyish laugh comes from above you as he bends down to peck your lips.
“I was hoping you would say that.”
Your hands naturally move upwards into his hair as he works tirelessly to break you both off. Truthfully, you don’t want your first sexual encounter to end just yet, but your body is begging for rest and you aren’t sure if your pussy can handle anymore orgasms.
Jeongguk kisses you again when he feels your cunt constricting around his cock and you know he’s close too because his heavy balls are hitting your ass with each thrust.
In the end, it only takes a couple more times of his tip kissing your cervix for you to come with a loud, broken moan.
“Oh, fuck,” you cry.
The orgasm is so volatile it shakes your whole body and you sob hysterically while both your cunt and thighs repeatedly clench, but Jeongguk keeps you steady beneath him as he continues chasing his own high.
After a couple more minutes of him vigorously rolling his hips into your pussy, he whines while pulling out so he can fist his cock over your chest. Hot, creamy, white cum shoots from his tip and sporadically lands all over your tits, mixing with the blood already there and turning you light pink. It feels absolutely filthy, but the sight of him fucking his hand with his head thrown back is truly one to behold.
“Shit,” he curses breathlessly.
His chest is dramatically rising and falling to accommodate the comedown of his orgasm and he’s practically glistening with sweat. He’s still covered in blood just like you, the dark liquid staining his chin, neck, and chest and even dripping all the way down to his v-line.
Unable to help yourself from the mouth watering sight, you climb to your knees and crawl across the mattress to him before skimming your fingers along his thighs and up his stomach. Locating a trail of blood on his abs, you follow it with your tongue while watching for his reaction. He erotically moans as you lick along his muscular torso until eventually reaching his pecs where you circle his nipple with the tip of your tongue.
Jeongguk looks unequivocally fucked out, his eyes half-lidded and heavy with desire as he watches you in a sensual daze. He grabs your nape to guide you towards his face, but you ignore him and start kissing his neck instead.
Another moan leaves his lips when you swirl your tongue on his hot skin, seemingly causing him to forget what he was doing as his fingers intertwine in your hair.
You finish your exploration by biting him right where he first drank from you and his deep, low chuckle makes you smile as your teeth scrape his throat.
“Be careful, darling. I do not think you will survive me taking you again,” he taunts.
Heeding his advice, you fall backwards onto the bed with a soft thump.
He crawls over you again, hovering so close that the cum on your chest smears onto his own.
“You’ve made quite the mess of me, vampire.” Jeongguk playfully bares his fangs and you giggle while tracing one of them with your thumb. “Care to clean me up?”
He combs your messy hair out of your eyes before replying.
“I will run you a bath.”
Before he’s able to fully stand and leave, you grab his wrist to stop him.
“And you’ll join me?” You ask hopefully.
Your endearing expression has him shaking his head and clicking his tongue.
“You are an insatiable little thing, are you not?”
Giggling in accomplishment, you sit on the edge of his bed to watch him stroll into the en suite bathroom.
He returns a moment later and stretches his hand towards you, which you gladly take so he can lead you into the bathroom where a large tub full of water and soap bubbles awaits.
“A bubble bath?” He nonchalantly shrugs his shoulders. “Oh, and you’re supposed to be some big, scary vampire.”
“Watch it, mortal,” he warns.
You smirk at him before stepping into the bath one foot at a time and turning around for him to take your hands and join you. Once he does, you let him sit so you can occupy the space between his open legs.
It might not be the cleanest bath, since the water soon turns pastel pink from the mixture of shared bodily fluids washing off of your skin, but it feels wonderful on all your sore muscles.
Jeongguk wraps his arms around your waist while placing soft kisses over each of your hickeys and the single bite mark on your neck. Being completely encompassed by him in the warmth of the tub calms your nerves and you contentedly sink deeper into the water before resting your head on his shoulder.
“Will you sing to me?” You ask while tracing a large vein running down his forearm.
“Sing to you?”
“Mmhm.” Twisting your head around, you meet his eyes over your shoulder. “At first, it’s all I knew about you and after three months of hearing you sing to me every night, I’m just so used to your voice.” A bashful blush appears on your cheeks. “It brings me comfort.”
He smiles at your explanation.
“I have never done that,” he replies.
“What do you mean?”
“Vampires each have a unique power they can use to lure mortals in and mine is the gift of song, but I have never used mine to serenade someone, only to capture their attention or subdue them.”
“Oh.”
Jeongguk frowns at the disappointment in your voice before moving your wet hair aside so he can tilt your chin up.
“How about I make you a deal, precious? If you become my mate, the first thing I will do is sing to you.”
“Ugh, it’s so unfair to use that as a bargaining chip,” you complain.
Your obvious indignation makes a laugh rumble through his chest.
“I already told you, darling, everything I do is for selfish reasons. I do not care about playing fair when it comes to convincing you.”
Before you can protest again, he steals a slow, sensual kiss by gripping your jaw and pulling you closer.
Once you’re both clean of the remnants of your affair, Jeongguk helps you out of the bath and wraps a large towel around you. He leaves for a moment to get some supplies and clothes from the girls since he shredded every article of clothing you had. Upon his return, you do a short skincare routine and dawn the comfortable hoodie and sweatpants he brought you.
Thankfully, the baggy clothes cover all of your bite marks and hickeys that you have no reasonable explanation for. It’s already morning and you feel awful for leaving without telling Emily and hope she isn’t too angry with you for disappearing last night.
Jeongguk can’t go outside with the sun up so he only escorts you to the door before giving you a long, passionate goodbye kiss.
“Will you visit me tonight?” You ask just before heading out.
“No I will not, my little mortal.” When you pout, he uses the back of his hand to caress your cheekbone. “I do not want my presence to sway your decision either way. I think it is best we stay apart until you make up your mind.”
For some reason, and maybe because you know him well enough now, you think it’s the exact opposite and he actually wants you to miss him so bad that you say yes.
Jeongguk notices the inquisitive look on your face and immediately realizes he’s been caught red handed, but he doesn’t change his answer.
You leave with a reluctant wave goodbye before using your phone to guide you back to campus. When you arrive and unlock the door to your dorm room, Emily springs from her bed and nearly topples you to the ground with how forcefully she hugs you.
“Oh my god, Y/N!” Your best friend is practically shaking in your arms and you feel immensely guilty. “I thought something horrible happened to you.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” you whisper to her.
“It’s okay. I’m just so happy you’re alright.” She takes your hands after you part. “When we found that guy unconscious and you were nowhere in sight, I freaked out.”
“I went home with someone. We didn’t… we didn’t do anything.” You utterly despise lying to her, but she can’t know where you actually were. “He helped me when that guy wouldn’t take no for an answer, but I was so frazzled afterwards that he offered to take me back to his place. I got a good night's sleep, took a hot shower, and then he gave me these clothes to come back in.”
“Wow, what a gentleman,” Emily comments.
All you do is smile, not wanting to say any more and risk her catching onto your deception.
Even though she seems to believe you, she gives you space because she can tell you’re still not yourself. You hug her again while thanking her for being such a good friend before heading to your bed to get some sleep.
The only issue is you aren’t able to fall asleep because you’re missing a key element.
Without Jeongguk’s voice and presence, your mind feels unbearably empty and the stark silence makes it impossible for you to catch a single wink.
It goes on like that for three days before you finally break.
When night falls after a straight 72 hours of being wide awake, give or take a couple cat naps you managed to slip in, you leave a note entirely full of lies for Emily and retrace your steps back to the mansion.
Upon arriving at your destination, you repetitively bang on the door before stepping back to await an answer, but when it swings open, the people behind it aren’t who you’re expecting to see.
Six gorgeous men stand before you, all twelve pairs of eyes curiously observing you.
The sight momentarily frightens you, but then you remember Jeongguk mentioning he has six older brothers. You’re positive there’s no actual blood relation between them, but it also seems like too good of a coincidence for all seven of them to be absolutely breathtaking.
“How is all of you being this handsome not a vampire thing?”
A couple of the men laugh while others raise their eyebrows at your boldness.
“How can we help you, gorgeous?” A tall man with dragon eyes asks you.
“Is Jeongguk home?”
“Oh, you must be Y/N,” the one beside him with plush, doll lips states.
“Yes…”
Jeongguk must not have been exaggerating about how much you occupy his thoughts since everyone in his home already knows exactly who you are.
“He is in his room,” a shorter blond man tells you.
One of them gestures for you to come inside and after briefly thanking them, you head down the familiar hall until you reach the door you recognize as his. It swings opens to reveal the man in question before you even get the chance to knock, no doubt because Jeongguk heard your heartbeat right outside his room.
“What are you doing here?”
His voice automatically eases your tired mind and you suddenly want nothing more than to run straight into his arms.
“I may regret this for… well, forever, but I don’t think I can live without you.” Jeongguk’s already huge eyes become massive pools of chocolate as an expression of pleasant surprises takes over his face. “I’m here so you can make me yours, Jeongguk.”
Jeongguk doesn’t need to hear anything else and you experience his superhuman speed for the first time when he captures your waist, yanks you off the ground, and carries you into his bedroom all in a single millisecond.
Before you can even comprehend what just occured, he’s pressing you against the wall and using a firm grip on your thighs to wrap your legs around his middle. He tilts his hips forward, effectively pinning you down before tracing your entire outline. Once his hands reach your face, he rakes his fingers into your hair to fiercely kiss you.
He acts as though you were parted for months and not days, feverishly chasing after your lips like you could vanish beneath his arms any minute. His enthusiasm and evident need makes it impossible for you to keep up, so you let him take the lead while circling his neck and tugging on the black strands at his nape.
Whether or not he’s capable of loving you, he certainly kisses you like he does.
“Are you positive? I will not be able to stop once I start.”
You’re both panting after successfully stealing one another’s oxygen and Jeongguk’s hands are trailing down your face, neck, and shoulders as though he can’t believe you’re here in front of him.
“I’m sure. I want you. Now and forever,” you wholeheartedly admit.
Jeongguk shakes his head in disbelief as a massive grin forms.
“Oh, my darling.”
He lifts you again and turns around to send you both tumbling onto the bed, your two sets of limbs tangling together as you continue to make out.
His hands steal yours from behind his head to pin them to the mattress, giving him complete control over you as he pushes on them just to prove it. You don’t protest being held captive, though, in fact the feeling of being totally surrounded by him is pure heaven after missing him so much over the last three days.
As Jeongguk ceaselessly molds his mouth to yours until you aren’t sure when you end and he begins, his hips grind over your crotch and you can feel his bulge rubbing against your already soaked pussy.
“Please, I wanna be full of you again,” you pathetically confess.
Just dry humping is sending your mind into a tailspin as your immense need for him overwhelms all of your senses, but the feeling must be mutual because Jeonnguk leaves you with a final kiss before standing over you at the edge of his bed.
“Strip down for me. Then get on all fours,” he commands.
You comply without another thought and quickly remove your clothes before situating yourself on your hands and knees in the middle of the mattress.
Jeongguk looks pleased with your steadfast obedience as he smirks at you being in such a vulnerable position, stark naked on his bed.
He proceeds to take off his own clothes and you watch in awe and pure hunger while he strokes himself to full hardness. Once he’s erect and twitching in his own palm, he makes a twirling motion with his finger as an instruction to face forward before climbing onto the bed behind you.
You do as he says and turn to the headboard while slowly breathing in and out to calm your nerves that are tingling with anticipation.
“You look exquisite like this, my little mortal.”
His hands find your hips as he explores your waist, ass and thighs with his fingertips. He spends a tortuous amount of time caressing your skin rather than fucking you like you want him to, causing you to impatiently whine his name after a while.
“Please, Jeongguk, I need you so bad.”
There’s an airy chuckle followed by the harsh sound of a clap as he spanks you hard. The initial sting makes you gasp and lurch up the bed, but he tugs you back into place with a low growl.
The next thing you know his chest is touching your back as he bends over you to speak directly into your ear.
“We will have all of eternity together after this, precious. I am going to take my time.”
You turn your head to capture his lips, causing a noise of surprise from him that makes you giggle into the kiss. When you end the smooch all too soon, Jeongguk chases after your face for another peck.
“The sooner you fill me with your cum, the sooner we can fuck nonstop,” you argue.
Jeongguk tilts his head with a saccharine grin.
“That is fair.” He rises to his knees again. “This is the point of no return, my darling.”
“Good,” you whisper assuredly.
He clicks his tongue at you before leaning in so you can feel his hard cock against your ass and you moan as he moves his hips to slowly lubricate his shaft with your essence.
Just when you think he’s going to penetrate you, his hand lands on your hair and he forces your face down into his pillows. You grunt while turning your head so you can still breathe, but the air in your lungs is stolen from you when he aggressively tilts your hips until your back arches.
“There we go. Much better,” he coos.
Without any further warning, he thrusts forward and sheathes his entire cock inside of you in one movement. You cry out, shoving your face into the pillows and clutching his sheets in your fists to relieve the pressure.
His dick feels infinitely deeper in this position and you swear you can taste him in your throat, at the very least he’s rearranging your guts.
Jeongguk groans at the same time his hands grip your ass to spread your cheeks apart and provide him with the perfect view of your pussy stretching around his cock.
“Oh, fucking hell. If I could die, you would be the death of me.”
If you weren’t currently smothering your face with pillows just to survive, you would have a witty reply.
“Jeongguk —”
“I know, I know,” he pacifies you. “There is no need to beg, soon enough you will be so full of my seed it will be dripping out of you.”
True to his word, he doesn’t wait any longer before using his grasp on your hips to spear you on his cock. Sharp, desperate sobs come from you when he immediately sets a monstrous pace and you nearly tear his sheets with how forcefully you’re holding onto them.
Him fucking you from behind feels unbelievable, but it shuts down every system in your brain and your body has to run on muscle memory alone to control your movements. Although, you aren’t doing much besides whimpering and moaning while Jeongguk does all the work.
He doesn’t seem to mind, in fact, based on the animalistic sounds coming from his throat, he prefers being able to manhandle you and use your body however he pleases.
“Shit, you take me so well, precious,” he praises.
When he adjusts your hips again to arch your back even more, you’re forced to bite into his pillow, but it still doesn’t muffle your rabid screams.
His cock is continually penetrating you with so much force and in such quick succession that you worry about him actually tearing you in half. Yet he doesn’t let up for a single second, and along with his balls slapping your clit with each thrust, you aren’t sure you’ll survive long enough to become his mate.
“Jeo… Jeongguk,” you incoherently moan.
Honestly, you may forget all other words but his name before this is over.
He responds to your call by using his hand as a ponytail and yanking your head up. The new angle it forces your body into sends his cock even deeper into your cunt and you both loudly cry out in pleasure.
“You are so… fucking tight,” he grunts. “And your cunt is leaking all over me.”
You can hear exactly what he’s talking about, an erotic squelching sound that accompanies each of his strokes proving his statement correct.
As your end grows near, your pussy relentlessly pulses around Jeongguk, making him growl under his breath before pulling you up until your back meets his chest. He secures you in place by wrapping his hand around your throat as his other one continues guiding your hips to bring your cunt down onto his cock over and over.
“Oh, fuck,” you whine when the new position provides his tip with the perfect target inside your pussy.
“Mm, my little mortal must be enjoying herself, huh?”
His fingers spread out along your jugular so he can still choke you while licking and kissing your neck between his digits.
“Bite me, Jeongguk,” you breathlessly chant.
“No.” His teeth playfully dig into your neck, but nothing more. “Not until you are immortal. There has not been enough time for your body to replenish what I took last time.”
“Will that be soon?”
Jeongguk laughs at the subtle way you tell him to hurry up.
“Yes, my darling.”
He shoves you back down before retaking your hair like reigns and speeding up his thrusts. His inhumane tempo makes you arch your back again as you keen and sob at the sensation of his cock’s thick veins and ridges rubbing along your inner walls. It feels like you could burst from all the pressure in your core, thighs, and abdomen and before you can tell him as such, your cunt clenches and you come all over him.
“Ahh, fuck.”
Hot tears roll down your face and collect on your chin as an ungodly orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave. Your nails bite the sheets and your entire body shakes in Jeongguk’s hold because it’s more intense than any of your prior climaxes combined and all you can do is scream and pant as it works its way through your body.
Your high causes a chain reaction and Jeongguk’s hips momentarily falter as your pussy milks him for all he’s worth, bringing him right to the precipice of ecstasy.
“Y/N, I am going to come.”
He isn’t just warning you for the sake of it, but because there’s truly no going back after this. If you let him come inside you, your life as a mere human ends here and now.
There is no choice for you to make; he’s already completely conquered you, body and soul.
“Do it.”
Jeongguk doesn’t need to be told twice and he shoves your face back into the pillows before ferociously thrusting into your cunt. His dick swells where it’s buried deep inside of you and soon enough you feel his warm semen filling you up. It’s then you realize why he chose this position and pushed your face down when he came, because once his seed reaches your womb, it feels as though your entire body is being torn to pieces.
The scream that meets his pillows is horrific and gruesome despite being severely muffled by fabric. You wail and convulse as a burning sensation overtakes you, turning all of your nerve endings into small flames that ravage your insides.
“I am so sorry, darling,” Jeongguk pants. “I promise it will not last much longer.”
He’s right, and the feeling of a cool ice bath gradually douses each flame, replacing the pain with a soothing sensation that relieves the ache and grants you the ability to breathe again.
When Jeongguk pulls out, you automatically crash into the mattress from sheer exhaustion. He runs his fingers through your hair to move it aside, surveying your face so he can make sure you’re alright.
“Thanks for the warning,” you dryly joke.
“I did not want to scare you by explaining what it would feel like,” he explains.
“Did it work?”
As delicately as possible, he pulls you into his lap before sitting with you against the headboard. His arms keep you close as you rest your head on his bare chest while taking deep breaths to replace all the oxygen you lost.
Once you’re comfortable, he tilts your chin to the side where he’s softly running his thumb across your skin.
“See?” It takes you a second to realize you’re spotless and the hickeys and bite mark from before are gone. “You are pristine, my little mortal.” He kisses you where the wound once was. “And all mine.”
A smile breaks out across your face without you even realizing it.
“You know what that means, don’t you?”
Jeongguk affectionately rolls his eyes before stealing a kiss from you, but he follows through on his promise, and it turns out his melodic, captivating voice is even more beautiful in person.
jungkook is a virgin, a big one, and believes he might not be all that interested in the act. but as he finds himself stuck with you at taehyung’s summerhouse — his body seems to be reacting strangely to yours.
⭒ pairings. jeon jungkook x female reader
⭒ word count. ish 18k
⭒ tags & warnings. summerlovin, smut, virgin!koo, sub!koo, switch!koo, i’m afraid of flagging so the smut will be sort of like unwrapping a gift on christmas day lmao (but just know there’s a creampie on the way)
notes. this is just a written fantasy i came up with as i rewatched ays season one. notice the shirt jungkook is wearing during the smut… does it sound like a familiar look? mehehe. also, i love me a subby koo. if he ain’t pussydrunk i don’t want him. wrote this in two days so eat up this slop girlies <3 also banner by @voyter who is my wife.
It has been twenty years. Jungkook has been alive for twenty years. And during these twenty years, he has never once had sex. Not even once. This cannot be stressed enough. Twenty years. Two whole decades.
But, oh well — there’s a tiny, insignificant detail that might be the reason behind this. Jungkook believes he might not be interested in sex, like at all.
In his defense, it has been twenty years. Twenty years of Jungkook not being all too excited about the thought of touching someone of the opposite sex. He once asked his close friend Jimin (who had dabbled a bit), if this might mean that he’s gay. Jimin responded with a snicker that left Jungkook at unease, but followed it up by telling him it might just be the strange way Jungkook’s brain moves.
Because his brain is strange. He’s a restless boy, an overachiever, excelling at everything he does. And Jungkook does do everything. He plays the piano, he cooks, he dances, he paints, he writes, he plays video games, and he can’t keep still for more than a minute. And for some reason, he seems to be interested in every single hobby except for the one that involves sweaty bodies merging together after a night out.
He got a handjob once. That’s something, at least.
It was while he was still in high school, this very lovely girl named Hana, who he had been partnered up with for a science project. She invited him over to her house, while her parents were still home, and jumped his bones the second the door to her bedroom was shut.
But Jungkook couldn’t get a hard on. Because he was actually thinking of the science project the entire time. Who in their right mind, as a seventeen year old boy, would be worrying about school while getting their belt unbuckled by a beautiful girl?
She told her girlfriends about his softie, something that lead them to believe he was gay too.
And after that mishap, he has not only been extremely nervous about putting himself in a similar position again — but he has simply stopped seeking out girls. He goes to clubs with his friends, joins whatever party he’s invited to, but he never really takes notice of the girls that are around.
Even though he can appreciate their beauty, he just doesn’t feel like he has it in him to do anything about it. It’s too nerve wracking. Also, he looks very intimidating.
Tall, dark, handsome, tattooed — everything the girls on Love Island and Single’s Inferno believe they’re looking for. But when it comes to it, they sheep out. He just kind of looks like a guy who could break their hearts with a snap of his fingers. So everything seems to be working against him.
But that’s alright. He doesn’t care about that. He has better things to tend to. Like the trip he’s going on with Taehyung. To his parents’ beach house, which strangely enough also has a pool.
It’s just for them to blow off some steam, to cool off before the semester starts up again. They haven’t invited anyone else, and they’re just staying there for a long weekend — Thursday through Sunday. A very relaxed vacation. A place for them to swim, cook food, drink some beers, play video games.
But as Jungkook and Taehyung pull up into the driveway, the idyllic, solo-weekend is shattered instantly. For Jungkook, at least.
“What the fuck—that’s Sara’s car.” Taehyung tries to mask the grin on his face as he notices Jungkook’s obvious disappointment. His poker-face isn’t all that great, and he actually manages to roll his eyes upon seeing Taehyung’s girlfriend’s shiny Mercedes.
Taehyung bumps his shoulder, parking the car next to his girlfriend’s. “Hey, don’t sulk. She’s probably just here to steal some of my mom’s wine again.”
“You let her do that?” Jungkook huffs, sinking further into his seat, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. He just can’t help it but pout.
With a jerk of his neck, Taehyung tongues the corner of his mouth. “With tits like that I let her do anything.”
They throw their bags over their shoulders before heading for the entrance door, stopping in their tracks as they hear muffled laughter coming from the other side of the house. The side where the outdoor pool is located.
Jungkook throws his head back, obviously frustrated that there’s even more people here.
Instead of taking the front door, they snake around the house, walk across the grass until they reach the pale cobblestone that surrounds the pool, the dining table, the sun-beds.
There stands Sara, drenched in water from head to toe, only wearing a tiny bikini. Her feet are just about to lift from the ground and head for the pool, but as she sees Taehyung, they take on a new journey. She shrieks, running over to her boyfriend, throwing herself over his shoulders without caring if his shirt gets drenched. Jungkook catches some of the droplets too, landing in his eyes. He pouts yet again.
“Finally—oh my god we’ve been waiting forever!” she cries out, lathering him in kisses. Jungkook thinks he might vomit. Also, who’s ‘we’?
Taehyung places both hands on her waist, letting his bag slip from his shoulder. He laughs for a minute, kissing her back, before he looks at her with a mildly confused expression. “That’s so… Sara sorry, wha—what are you doing here?”
As Sara answers, Jungkook hears something moving in the water. He turns his head away from the disgusting couple, and lets his eyes fall to the silhouette getting out of the pool.
His lips part the moment he sees your face.
You let two hands run over your head, brushing back the wet hair while stepping up on the steal ladder. The fabric of your bikini clings to your wet, glistening skin, and the line between your legs has itched its way dangerously deep inside your cheeks.
Jungkook gulps. For some reason. His eyes widen. For some reason.
He has met numerous of Sara’s friends. A bunch of times, actually. But he can’t seem to recognize you. Maybe that’s because his eyes are now fixated on your breasts, how full they look in that tight bikini — but he’s still sure that he has never seen you before.
When was the last time he saw a girl in such little clothing? Except for in porn, or Sara just now. He can’t seem to remember it. And if he can’t remember it, it might’ve just not made such an impression on him.
But you did. For some reason.
Sara calls out your name as you step onto the stone and walk towards the three others. You have such a pretty name, it’s so fitting. Jungkook’s ears go red. Why do they do that? Has that ever happened before?
His tattooed hand, the one free of his bag, goes to the piercings in his ear. He fiddles with them as he watches you walk across the floor, not really sure where to look. He options for your feet, something that might not make him feel all that weird inside.
Your toenails are neatly polished, trimmed. And they look so tiny against the stone. Compared to your body, they look proportional — of course — but they look so tiny now. And cold… why do you have so many goosebumps spread across your skin? Are you cold?
“Come meet my boyfriend and his boyfriend!”
Jungkook snaps his head back to glower at Sara. She giggles in return, slapping a lazy palm over his chest. As the hand meets his t-shirt, his skin, he suddenly realizes how sensitive he has grown. Sensitive to touch. He clears his throat, looking down at his own feet as he listens to the wet sound of your feet padding across the floor.
You stretch out a hand, confidently, making Jungkook’s eyes dart up again.
“Nice to meet you.”
Is that a real voice? It sounds like an audio recording, one of those that supposedly put you to sleep. He looks at your hand with big eyes, almost like he’s from a different planet and has never encountered this kind of greeting before. So you giggle.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” You retract it, tilting your head to the side. “You don’t wanna touch me now that I’m all wet, do you?”
Jesus fucking christ.
Apparently, as told by Sara, you were her new roommate in college. The two of you had gotten close before even starting the new semester, meeting up during summer break to start your new friendship. Which is when Sara had the brilliant idea of bringing you along to Taehyung’s summer house.
She knew all about Jungkook and her boyfriend’s plan — that they would stay until Sunday — which just seemed even more perfect. The perfect opportunity to wiggle you into her life, her social circle. If Taehyung loved you, Sara would love you even more.
Jungkook wasn’t taken into consideration here. He is quite introverted, has a hard time making new friends, but Taehyung is so comfortable around him. And if Taehyung is comfortable, if he is already in a good mood around his best friend — he will for sure take a liking to you.
What she didn’t expect was for Jungkook to like you the most. This came as a shook for him too.
He packs out his bag, settling in his room, dragging stressed hands through his hair, pulling the fingers down to his mullet. His tongue finds his lip ring, playing with it as he debates ripping the strands straight out of his scalp.
He’s already so nervous around girls. Sara is different, but you are not. You just might be the prime example. Confident. Beautiful.
Why does his mind keep replaying your wet figure? Your gentle voice? How the bikini hugged you, how your waist curved inwards so beautifully, then outwards where your soft hips started.
The sight wrecked the poor boy.
It doesn’t help that you’re the one cooking dinner tonight.
He tried to avoid you when him and Taehyung got settled, and he managed. But it’s hard when he runs into you again, in the kitchen. When you stand there, cutting up pieces of pork ribs, wearing a see through, white gown. A new bikini underneath.
“I just—I’m just gonna grab a bottle.”
Jungkook reaches for the fridge, pulling the handle towards him while ignoring your eyes. It’s an easy task, as you actually don’t look at him and continue on with your cooking.
“Would you grab me one too?” you ask casually, still not looking at him.
He nods in response, realizing you can’t actually see it, but being too flustered to say yes out loud.
There’s only one bottle of water in the fridge. Except for the big Fiji one which has to be Sara’s. Jungkook gulps.
Without saying anything, he grabs the bottle and hands it to you. You’re occupied, he sees that, so he just places it on the counter, right by the cutting board.
As he’s about to leave, maybe go drink water from the pool, you speak again.
“Not thirsty after all?”
Jungkook closes a fist, opens it again, flexes his fingers. His mouth dries up, suddenly extremely parched.
“That’s alright,” he says simply, almost no volume to his voice. He gulps… again.
“I’m guessing there’s only one bottle—and you’re just being nice.”
Trying to stay cool, Jungkook starts walking away from you. “I’m not thirsty.”
“I only need a sip,” you call out before he’s able to exit the kitchen, still focusing on cutting the pork neatly. “You take the bottle—you’ve had a long drive. But I just need you to open the bottle for me.”
Jungkook thinks he’s about to burst into flames. It might be the heat, but the air-con is working perfectly fine. So he’s afraid it might be you. His back is facing you, and yours his. You’re not even looking at each other, but Jungkook can’t bring himself to answer. And he doesn’t want to force the bottle on you. And he is thirsty.
So he turns, walks back over to the counter where you stand so prettily, eyes immediately falling to your back. To your ass. The polkadot print of your bikini, which shines through your gown. How your cheeks look so plump, how they look so round, like a good handful each.
It feels invasive. He looks away, eyes going to the plastic water bottle.
“Could you open it?” you ask again, showing him a flat palm. “I have pork on my hands.”
Jungkook prays to god that you won’t ask him to feed you the water as well. But he does as you ask, without saying a word. He screws the lid off, handing you the uncapped bottle.
You take it with your free hand, the plastic looking so much smaller in your grip than in his. Your fingers wrap around it, and you bring the opening to your mouth. Surely you’ll waterfall it.
But you don’t. Your lips wrap around the bottle, touching it directly.
And Jungkook fucking dies. Inside, that is. His inner organs seem to be rearranging, his stomach turning. And a new, strange sensation appears. Similar to the one he gets while watching… porn.
Your throat bobs, your lips are closed perfectly around the opened cap, and you only take a few quick sips. No water drips down your chin, not like in cheap pornos. But as you let the bottle slip from you, you let out a sigh. A sigh that is music in Jungkook’s ears. Better than any home-made movie he has watched.
When finished, you put the pad of your middle finger to your lips, dabbing away what might be excess water. There is none, so Jungkook feels you’re doing this just to mess with him. You’re probably not, but it feels like it.
“Thanks,” you say as you hand him the bottle, and you look up at him. When your eyes meet his, Jungkook drowns. He tries looking away, but for some reason he can’t. Your eyes are shimmering, big and soft. Jungkook flicks his gaze back and forth from them, not knowing where exactly he’s supposed to be looking. He hasn’t even grabbed the bottle yet.
“Your turn,” you continue, waving the bottle in front of him. “Drink up.”
For you, he would do anything.
Jungkook takes the plastic from your hands, wrapping his larger fingers around the bottle. He didn’t brush against your skin, which is a plus, but he kind of wishes he did.
You continue looking at him as he takes the bottle in his hand. Expecting him to drink up.
Are your lips usually this plump, this soft? Do you always speak in this tone? How are you so comfortable wearing such a revealing gown? Is it because you know you look good?
A bit nervously, he puts the bottle to his own lips. He debates waterfalling the water himself, but is afraid you might think he doesn’t want your germs in his system. That’s not at all what this is, and he doesn’t want to come off as rude. So he copies you by wrapping his mouth around the plastic opening, tilting the bottle until water falls down his throat.
Jungkook, for that matter, is sloppy, and manages to spill. Two measly droplets fall from his mouth and land on his chin, dripping down until they reach his jaw. This is simply because you won’t look away.
It feels inherently sexual, whatever this is, something Jungkook can’t quite grasp. He has never been interested in such activities before, so why does he flush so easily just by knowing he’s under your eyes? He can feel his neck burning up with heat, his ears grow red. So he calls it quits, deciding to swallow one last time.
“Sara told me you’re single.”
Jungkook chokes on the water.
Jesus christ, why are you asking him this question? Why is that important? Why right now, as he coughs up the lost water particles in his throat, eyes widening with shock. He looks like a lost sheep.
Your lips curls into a small, almost unnoticeable smile. But Jungkook sees it, he notices everything you do, every small detail. This detail has him blushing. He removes the bottle from his mouth, coughs one last time and wipes away the droplets from his jaw. His tattooed hand moves from his chin, down his neck, trying to feel how warm it his. The pulse underneath his skin is spiking.
With a deep inhale he answers, still a bit sore. “Uh—yeah, uh I am.”
You huff out a breath. “I’d never guess.”
Returning to your cooking, you look away from him. You continue cutting the pork, tilting your head to the side. Like this would be a normal ending to your conversation.
Jungkook has no idea what he’s supposed to say. Does he look like the type of guy to be in a relationship? No one has ever told him that, they usually tell him the opposite. That he looks like the type of guy to never settle. That’s before getting to know him, of course. But upon first glance, yes — Jungkook does look like a hit and run type of guy. So what do you mean?
He asks you just that. “Huhwhatwhy?”
The words tumble out of him, desperate to receive an explanation.
“I don’t know—you seem sweet,” you answer, finishing the last piece of pork. You reach for the cabinet above your head, stretching tall on your tippy toes. As you do, the fabric of your gown clings to your skin, making it easier for Jungkook to see the soft shape of your ass through the see-through dress. He looks away immediately, trying to focus on your words instead. You continue while opening the cabinet, grabbing for a bottle of olive oil. “Like the kind of guy who has a girlfriend that’s a lot to handle.”
This analogy is completely foreign to Jungkook — he has no idea what it’s supposed to mean. Also, you just met him today, exchanged only a few words with him. How do you know he’s sweet? Are you just a good judge of character?
Jungkook rolls his shoulders once before answering, stretching his neck. “Oh, okay.”
There’s nothing more to add to that. He has no idea what you’re talking about. He has no idea what you mean. And he doesn’t want to tangle himself into an unknown world right now, he’s too hot, too sweaty, a bit too worked up. Because upon seeing the outline — the beautiful outline of your ass — there has grown a problem in Jungkook’s black, cargo shorts. The fabric is pliant enough to give it away. He has experienced boners in public before, but only the ones explained by hormones and puberty. The ones who arrive unannounced, without any encouragement. Boners are now usually something he only gets while watching porn, something he does maybe twice a week. Maybe once. So sporting a hard-on while standing next to a girl in little to no clothing seems like a violation, and he wants to bolt away as fast as possible.
He turns, ready to walk off.
“Does the description fit?”
Your words still him in an instant. His back is facing you again, but he hears a shift in your stance, knows you’ve turned around from the counter. He hears your gown move. Fuck. If he turns around, you’ll see the obvious tent in his shorts. The large bulge. Jesus christ.
He places his hands in his pockets, stretches the fabric out, looks down to check if it’s still visible. It is, but not as prominent as before. So he decides to turn one last time.
When he’s facing you, he gulps. The gown has slipped just slightly off one of your shoulders, revealing your collarbones and sun-warmed skin. You’re leaning against the counter now, crossing one ankle over the other while tilting your head to the side. Jungkook’s growing problem seems to be screaming in his shorts.
Trying not to seem like a total idiot, he answers before the silence stretches further. “I don’t know.”
“Mhm.” You nod, tilting your head to the other side. A single piece of hair falls from behind your ear and gets in your face, tickling your cheek. You don’t bother brushing it away, instead you take in Jungkook’s state of flush. His wide eyes, his tense posture.
“I think a girl like that would suit you, Jungkook.”
Jungkook went to bed before the others. They got a bit too drunk, and Jungkook kept looking at your tits in that gown, in that bikini. He was maybe too a bit drunk.
But when you suggested they would all go for a swim in the pool, get a feel of the summer night breeze, Jungkook was quick to depart. He told Taehyung he was a bit tired from all the food — food coma — and that he wanted a good night’s sleep after a long day of travel. No one really questioned this, and Jungkook was free to leave the table.
The walls are thin. The window is too, apparently. He can hear the others splashing around in the pool, shrieking, playing, laughing.
Most of all — he can hear your laughter. He hears it so well. Your giggle, the one that sounds like tinkling glass. He tries tuning out every sound, trying to wiggle himself to sleep, tossing and turning. But that only highlights your laugher, your voice. Jungkook swears he can hear your exact footsteps on the cobblestone. Because your feet are so small. They make the cutest sound.
While listening to you guys, he imagines what it looks like outside. When you’re playing, swimming.
The image of you getting out of the pool, greeting him, pops back into Jungkook’s mind. The bikini clinging to your skin, disappearing between the slit of your ass, your perfect round cheeks. The slightest bounce of your breasts when you walked over to him.
You don’t wanna touch me now that I’m all wet, do you?
Fuck. The problem is back.
He has no idea what you do to him, but it hurts. It feels like he’s about to explode… down there. The skin feels too tight over him, the muscle is pulsating. He tries to ignore it, turn to his side, block out your voice, your laughter from outside. But as he turns, it hurts again. So he tries thinking of anything else.
His own apartment. He’s in his own apartment. His mind drifts to the kitchen, for some reason.
Okay. Food is good. If he’s hungry, that’s usually all he can think of. Whenever he plans to jerk off, he sometimes has to stop mid act because he feels a rumbling in his stomach. Food comes first.
So he thinks of cooking. At home, in his kitchen. Standing there, boiling water on the stove. Waiting until the bubbles appear. He turns to the side, looking for the packet of ramyeon. But as his hand reaches out, it doesn’t go to the packet of noodles — it goes to the curve of your ass.
Why are you there?
In that see-through gown. In that same bikini underneath. You’re just standing there, watching him cook. And you let him feel you, let his large palm meet your ass, not even flinching or making a sound, like it’s completely normal. Actually, you push your ass back further, leaning down on the counter now, just watching the water boil.
His hand moves around, just feeling you. And it’s marvelous. Your skin is so plump, so soft, even through the gown.
Fuck — he’s back to square one. Why are you there, in his mind, while he’s actively trying to keep you out? Maybe it’s because your laughter is so much more prominent than the two others. Or maybe you’ve just managed to completely occupy him, never letting him think of anything else.
There’s only one thing that will make this problem disappear, and Jungkook grits his teeth while thinking about it. He has only ever jerked off to porn, never to anyone he knows in real life. Again, it feels too invasive.
But he knows porn won’t work this time. No, it’s you he thinks of, you who’s making him feel like this.
Jungkook’s arm drapes over his eyes as he slips the other hand in his boxers, almost as if that would block out the embarrassment of doing something like this. He lets his fingers trace the length of him, feeling how sensitive he has grown. He teases his own cock while listening to your laughter, eyes still buried where his forearm meets his bicep. Finally, he wraps his full hand around himself.
Pressing his lips together, he tries to imagine what you look like right now.
You’re still in that bikini. Maybe you’re sitting on the edge of the pool with your legs in the water. Maybe your hair is wet again, slicked back like earlier. Maybe you’re leaning forward while talking, elbows on your knees, looking up at the others with those soft eyes. Or maybe you’re leaning back, with straight arms, your stomach moving in and out as you breathe.
The vision causes Jungkook to squeeze his cock lightly, letting a breathy moan escape his lips. Your hips, your ass, spread out so nicely when you sit by the pool. The bikini only covers your most treasured parts. But he can imagine them anyways.
What you would look like with him. You are already so small compared to him. Wouldn’t it look bizarre if you were with him? Your small hands on him, his big hands on you. His long fingers removing your thong, kissing your skin while on his knees. He would kiss you everywhere. Leave you red with bitemarks.
Jungkook’s stomach tightens. Pleasure flows through him, and sweat starts to appear in his hairline. He bites down on the piercing in his lip, thumbing the slit of his cock to spread the beading precum over his head. The tip has grown so sensitive that he can’t help but gasp once touching it. He twists himself at the base, squeezing tightly as he pumps himself to the image of you.
Your perky breasts. How your nipples might look. How he would love to make them go hard, to see goosebumps appear on your skin. How he would love to kiss down on them, bite them, lick them, suck until you pulled on his hair. How your fingers would feel in his hair.
When thinking of pleasuring you, Jungkook has no idea how to do so, but imagines himself more experienced. Just in this dream scenario.
He knows porn is nothing to compare the real deal with, he has been told so numerous of times. But for now, it will do.
Jungkook sets a steady pace, whining as he feels his balls start to tighten.
If he had his hands on you, he would never let go. He wishes he knew how to make you beg. That he could kiss you, spread you open, give your most precious spot a harsh suck until stars appeared in your eyelids. That he could lap at you like a parched animal, even sink his tongue deep inside you, swirl it around.
You don’t wanna touch me now that I’m all wet, do you?
Oh, how he would love to touch you. How he would love to feel your wetness. Have his fingers in it, his tongue in it, bury his cock so deep in your wetness that you’d beg him to stop. You would look so beautiful with your eyes rolled back into your skull.
Imagining the noises you would make has him sweating more than ever before. He gasps when he imagines you gasping, he whines when he imagines you would do so. It’s a synchronized performance he’s playing out, and when he imagines your climax — he breaks in half.
Thick ropes of cum, more than he has ever produced before, spurt heavy out of his cock, leaving his boxers a white, sticky mess. He throws his head back against the headboard, shutting his eyes completely as he strokes himself through the orgasm. Jungkook feels he has just entered the gates of heaven. Never before in his life has he climaxed this hard before. An otherworldly experience — that’s what this was.
When Jungkook comes down from his high, he looks down at himself, at his ruined boxers, grimacing at the amount of cum.
That will have to do, he thinks. Tomorrow is Friday, meaning there is only really two days left. He can survive two days with you, but only at a distance. He’ll have to make sure you won’t rile him up again. He’ll have to avoid you.
Jungkook hates couples.
He hates Taehyng and he hates Sara. Why do couples need so much alone time? This was supposed to be Taehyung and Jungkook’s trip. So why is he being pushed away?
Better question — why is he being pushed into interactions with you?
“I’m just gonna fuck her in the pool—so can’t you guys go grocery shopping or something?” Taehyung begs, mirroring his friend’s pout.
Jungkook scoffs, crosses his arms over his chest while avoiding Taehyung’s eyes, acting like a sulky little kid. “No, I want to stay here.”
“But that’s not your decision, Kook.” Taehyung curls his lips together, speaking in a whisper. “This is my house—and I want to fuck my girlfriend in the pool.”
Fuck off.
Jungkook fastens his seatbelt, trying to ignore the scent of your perfume. It’s hard. Lilac, lilies, something like that.
You’re trying to pick out a song on your phone after connecting it to Bluetooth, mumbling under your breath. You can’t seem to land on anything, but you’ve forbidden Jungkook from pulling out of the driveway before you’ve found the perfect song. “What songs do you like, then?”
Everything about you makes Jungkook embarrassed after last night. He can’t even dare to look you in the eyes, let alone hear your voice. This shopping trip will be awful.
“Everything,” Jungkook answers simply, tapping the steering wheel with his index finger.
“Come on—just name a song!”
“Uh…” He has apparently forgotten every song ever. “Bennie And The Jets.”
The sound of tinkling glass reappears. The sweet sound of you giggling. “Alright—Bennie And The Jets it is.”
As you type the embarrassing song request into your phone, Jungkook starts driving. The car rolls down the long gravel path towards the main road, and he desperately tries ignoring your scent.
You smell like flowers, warm skin, summer. Every time the wind shifts through the cracked window, it carries your scent straight to him. It’s almost enough to make him puke. Or maybe cry. He dares to look at you for just a second. Look at the way your hair blows in the wind, how you play with a few strands between your fingertips. The fabric of your sundress moving in waves with the wind, just like your hair. Your gentle, slender neck, the soft flesh there. How he would love to feel you.
Jungkook hates grocery shopping now too, apparently. Walmart is too big, there are too many options. Sara has sent over a list for you guys to check off, but it’s so long that Jungkook is suspecting they’re just stalling you while the two of them have sloppy intercourse in the outdoors pool.
And your dress is too pretty. You’re too pretty. What the hell is Jungkook supposed to do?
He pushes the cart while walking behind you, trying not to stare too much. But the dress sways across your thighs, makes him think. His ears go red again.
“—And I want chocolate covered raspberries. And those cola lollipops. And some popcorn. And Ben&Jerry’s—” you continue. Your list is quite long, and it seems you’ve steered away from what Sara wants you guys to buy.
As Jungkook pushes along, he only thinks to himself: Anything for you.
“—Also I forgot my wallet.”
Again, he thinks: Anything for you.
You make him carry all the bags. It’s heavy, but Jungkook is strong. You bought an insane amount of groceries for such a small person (with Jungkook’s money, that is). He wonders how you’re planning to get it all down. If you’re evil enough, you bought all this just to watch Jungkook’s neck pop with veins as he carried it over the parking lot.
As you get to the car, you don’t even bother opening the trunk for him. You simply wait for him to unlock the door before you slip inside, hissing as the black seat has heated up.
You seem sweet. Like the kind of guy who has a girlfriend that’s a lot to handle.
Sure enough, you are a lot to handle.
The two of you haven’t been away for that long, probably about thirty minutes, but Jungkook hopes Taehuyng and Sara might be done with their session by the time you arrive. But as Jungkook gets in the car, you stop him before he turns the engine on.
“We have to go see the view point by the beach.”
Get away — Jungkook thinks — I don’t have to do anything. He brushes off the hand that you’ve placed on his, starting the engine anyways. Jungkook wants to go home. He wants to listen to music in his room, try to do anything besides thinking of you. You make his whole body warm, and he’s not sure if he likes it.
You gasp, making a grimace laced with disappointment. “You’re so mean!”
“I just wanna go home—I’m not mean.”
“Can’t we just—”
Jungkook cuts you off mid-sentence. “Your ice cream’s gonna melt.”
With a huff of air, you sink further and further into your seat. You don’t even bother putting on the seatbelt. Your eyes fall to the window beside you, ignoring Jungkook. But as Jungkook gives a quick side-eye, he notices how your lips have formed into a pout. How you look just like he did when he sat in that exact spot yesterday, realizing the trip with Taehyung wasn’t a solo one.
He starts driving, trying to not look at you too much. But you seem like you want him to talk, want him to say something, as you keep huffing and puffing out irritated small breaths.
“You’re pouting.”
You don’t answer. So Jungkook tries again, something a bit bolder that makes his heart race.
“You’re a lot to handle.”
A tiny smile appears on your face, but you try masking it by pursing your lips. It doesn’t work all that well, so you cover your mouth with tiny fingers, letting them play with your lips. It’s almost like you want Jungkook to crash the car, because as you fiddle with the plump flesh, Jungkook can’t help but look at it. How plush they look, how glossy. He bets they would feel good on him. Good wrapped around him. Or just against his own lips.
Jungkook’s mouth waters while his thoughts run wild. But as he continues driving, he notices that you still haven’t fastened your seatbelt. You might be sulking, but he can’t have you flying out the window in protest.
Without looking over, keeping his eyes on the road, he reaches over you, grabbing for the buckle. Quickly, he traps you in, securing the belt until he hears a ‘click’.
“How nice of you,” you mock, pitching your voice higher.
He keeps quiet for the rest of the ride. You don’t bother putting on music this time, and just stare at your phone. For some reason, Jungkook worries. He hopes you won’t get sick. That your stomach can handle the car ride as your eyes are glued to the screen. If you feel sick, you should just tell him. He’d pull over. In a heartbeat, actually. But you don’t say a word, so Jungkook doesn’t either.
When you pull into the driveway, Jungkook senses a smile on your face, just a tiny one. It seems like an evil one. So his neck goes red, his ears too.
As the engine shuts down, as Jungkook removes the keys and his belt, you stay still. He looks over at you, wondering, furrowing his brows as you keep looking straight ahead.
“Unbuckle.”
That’s all you say.
Jungkook gathers that you want him to unbuckle your seatbelt. Just like when he trapped you in, but in reverse this time.
He does as you tell him, pressing down until the belt flings open. As you’re freed, you turn in your seat, looking at him with narrow eyes. You skim over his face a couple of times, almost like you’re debating something. Jungkook can’t for the life of him understand what’s going on. His eyes are big and glossy compared to your glowering ones.
“Put your seatbelt on,” you demand, speaking in a low voice.
What are you doing?
There’s something about you that makes it hard for Jungkook to question your words, what you ask of him. So without second thoughts, he simply pulls his own seatbelt back on, staring at you with big wondering eyes the entire time.
You press your lips together, fighting laughter. But your eyes are still fierce, narrow in a way that makes Jungkook’s pulse spike.
“Unbuckle.”
Again.
Jungkook does as you say. With a click the belt pops open again, and Jungkook is still confused. But it’s like clockwork — whatever you say, Jungkook does. Except take you to the view point, apparently. He still doesn’t understand why he drew the line there.
As the belt flings open again, you let out a breath of air, bordering on a demeaning laughter.
“Why are you like that?”
“Like what?” Jungkook asks mindlessly, his voice gentle but breaking at the edges. You rile him up, but not so much now that he can’t take it. There’s more of a thrill to it. Something he can’t quite understand. But again… for some reason — he feels himself growing in his jeans. Horrible timing.
“You do everything I tell you to.” With your next smile, you bear a bit of teeth. You use them to bite down on your bottom lip, just the slightest, letting them bounce back as you release them. They look so soft, so plush.
Jungkook can’t be thinking about that right now. Not with what’s going on in his jeans. He actually can’t be here right now. Thank god the two of you have reached the house. Maybe he can just sit in the car and wait for it to pass, ask you to leave him alone for a minute. But then he would have to watch you walk away, ogle at the way your dress moves softly across your thighs.
That doesn’t seem like a good option either.
“I don’t do that,” he responds, shifting in his seat as he feels his whole body tighten. Maybe it’s the way you speak to him. Or maybe he likes being told what to do? Is that it? He hopes not, as that would be quite embarrassing.
As he shifts, your eyes unfortunately go to his pants. To the bulge that’s growing there. And Jungkook has watched enough porn to know that he’s big. It’s not easy for him to hide an erection, so as your eyes meet his crotch, he gathers you know what’s going on.
You give the bulge a devilish smile. “What’s going on down there?”
The fact that you’re so forward isn’t helping. Goosebumps cover Jungkook’s neck, and he jerks his head to the side giving you a small hiss in response. “Come on…”
“I knew I was right about you!” Your smile grows, and you lean forward a bit, resting a palm on your thigh. Jungkook can’t help but let his eyes follow your hand, where it meets the fabric of your dress. The outline of your thigh.
You giggle again, patting down on yourself almost like you’re clapping. “Jungkook—you’d love a fiery woman!”
This conversation is not happening.
Jungkook goes white, completely white. His face loses all color, and he looks at you with a pair of mortified, black orbs. Why are you so unfazed while talking about this — while Jungkook has an obvious boner in your presence? Because of your presence?
He lets one hand go to the fabric that has tightened around his crotch, trying to cover himself up. Your eyes follow immediately.
“Jungkook, I’m serious—it’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” you sigh, itching even closer. One of your legs crosses over the other, causing your dress to itch higher up on your thighs. The edge of the skirt is dangerously close to a part Jungkook definitely shouldn’t be watching in this state. Your hands fall into your lap. “If anything—it’s just flattering.”
With a shaky inhale, Jungkook closes his eyes, preparing to tell you off. He lets out your name with the next exhale, even more unsteady than last time. “Can’t we just please go inside?”
“You have to be more open minded.” You don’t pay attention to his erection anymore, instead you lock eyes with him, something that makes Jungkook even more nervous. He blinks over and over again, waiting for the moment to pass. Jungkook doesn’t know what’s more embarrassing — the fact that you’re so forward, or that the bulge in his jeans won’t seem to go down. His entire body tightens, his stomach turning. This is by far the strangest, most uncomfortable feeling he has ever felt.
You tilt your head to the side, lick your lips. “Do you need help, Jungkook?”
What?
I’m sorry — what?
Jungkook freezes. The corners of his eyes start watering, strangely enough. He blinks again, a few times more, trying to piece together the puzzle that is this conversation.
You can’t possibly mean what Jungkook thinks you do. That can’t be right. That would at least mean you’re teasing him, for whatever reason. He hopes you don’t know about what happened last night. That would be all too much. Maybe you can read his mind. That would be a more logical explanation. Anyways — why on earth are you asking him this?
He swallows hard, eyebrows lifting high on his forehead. “H-help?”
The sound of tinkling glass. You smile, and don’t cover it up this time. The one leg crossed over the other nudges Jungkook’s ankle, playfully kicking him. He breathes in a shaky inhale, having grown so sensitive to any kind of touch. Especially yours.
“Your little problem won’t go away on its own.”
Jungkook has tried convincing himself it was all a dream. That what happened in the car didn’t really happen. That he had just imagined it, that his horned-up brain continued to make up unlawful scenarios about you. He tried his hardest. He tried so hard.
But you wouldn’t leave his mind. The image of you looking him up and down, eyes so dark it almost frightened him. He thought he was about to be eaten alive.
Somehow, he wasn’t.
Because after teasing him about his erection for about five minutes, nudging him with your feet, your fingers — you seemingly had enough. Your face went back to normal, you let out a huff of air, and you reached for the door on your side. When you hopped out of the car, you didn’t even look back. You walked away, left Jungkook hard and dumbfounded behind — with a trunk loaded with groceries.
Did you really ask him that? Better yet… were you serious?
You couldn’t possibly be. This is real life, not a porno. It’s not like women throw themselves at boners in real life. They are usually rather put off by them. So why is it that you teased him so much about it, without seeming disgusted?
Had Sara told you something? Or had maybe Taehyung? Jungkook knows Taehyung has a habit of telling girls Jungkook is a virgin. He knows some girls find it cute (it doesn’t happen often, but sometimes). But that’s only when they’re out drinking, usually at a club where Taehyung knows they won’t ever have to see these girls again. So why would he ever tell you such a thing?
After getting back inside, Jungkook practically ran upstairs and into the shower. He couldn’t take a minute more of his suffering, and knew he needed release. So he stripped himself of his sweat drenched clothes, turned the water on until the room filled with steam, and hopped right in.
He came harder than the night before, if that was even possible. His vision wiped out, and he had to whine a loud ‘fuck’ in order to not call out your name. It was maybe the hardest task he had ever carried out in his life. The stream of the water was harsh enough to block out the sounds he was producing, or so he hoped, and he was far away from the others. He saw you run towards the pool area instead of going back inside, and he was certain that both Taehyung and Sara would be sound asleep after their many rounds in the pool.
Jungkook hides in his room after jerking off. He feels absolutely mortified. There was absolutely no reason for him to get a hard-on in the car, you didn’t do anything sexual. Except maybe for that last part. But the thing is — he was hard even before that. So what’s the deal?
When Taehyung comes knocking, asking if he’s up for dinner soon, Jungkook tells him he has caught some kind of cold. Which is a statement Taehyung easily believes as Jungkook quite literally looks like shit.
His bangs stick to his forehead, his mullet sticks to his neck, his eyes are red and his skin is white. It looks like he has got it bad, when in all fairness — he’s just extraordinarily horny… and also very embarrassed.
He tries falling asleep, even though the time only reads seven o’clock. Maybe if he listens to some music, it might help. Grabbing for his phone, he turns to his side and feels a loud rumble in his stomach.
No, god no.
As stated earlier, if Jungkook is hungry — nothing else matters. If his stomach is rumbling, he needs to do something about it. But right now… he can’t. He can still hear the voices coming from downstairs, the three of you laughing and chatting. Exactly what it is that you’re talking about, Jungkook can’t hear, but he knows you’re laughing. He knows you’re having a good time.
He wishes he was able to make you laugh like that. You only do so when he’s sporting a full one, apparently.
Why won’t you guys just please go to bed? Jungkook has to get down there. Make himself some food. He has to.
Tossing and turning in bed, his mind runs wild. Which is when he remembers something horrible, something so extremely unfortunate.
He forgot the groceries in the car.
Jungkook bolts upright in bed, almost gasping out loud at the realization. He forgot the fucking groceries. They are still in the car, all of them. Your snacks, your drinks, your ice cream. God — your ice cream. It’s all probably melted by now.
He throws the blanket off himself and scrambles out of bed. Rushing around his room, he yanks open multiple drawers, grabbing the first pieces of clothing he can find. A blue t-shirt with a yellow crab on it, and a pair of grey cargo shorts. He pulls them on hastily, nearly getting his foot stuck in the fabric.
“Shit, shit, shit.”
If you see the melted ice cream, you’ll be crushed. You’ll be so disappointed. All he had to do was carry the bags inside. He couldn’t even do that. You would be so sad if you found out your ice cream had been standing outside, the milk getting spoiled. You wouldn’t be able to eat it anymore. How sad you would be.
When fully dressed, he stumbles into a pair of Puma slippers and tip toes toward his door, opening it just enough to peek out into the hallway. The house is dim, looks almost asleep, but he can still hear your laughter from downstairs.
Is he supposed to climb out the window? Or how will he go about this?
Without really thinking more of it, he makes sure to tread as lightly as possible, not making any sound as he escapes his room. He makes his way down the stairs, trying to ignore the small creaks the wood makes. If he’s lucky, you’re all drunk by now, and woozy enough to look past the man lurking around ‘undetected’ behind them.
Finally making it to the last step, he crouches down. The main entrance is so close, but it’s too risky — the dining area is right by. So he options for the terrace door, the one that leads to the pool.
Carefully, he shifts his weight and begins creeping across the living room floor. Jungkook is as careful as a soldier crossing a field full of land mines, knowing that an awkward bump-in would be too much for him now. He moves slowly enough to keep most of the creaking quiet, but the boards under his slippers give in a few times. Not loud enough for you guys to take notice of it though, thankfully.
He doesn’t dare look toward the sound of your laughter. He doesn’t know where you’re seated. You could be facing him, or maybe not. Either way, if you turn your head at any given moment, you’ll spot him immediately — half crouched, sneaking across the living room like a criminal. Jungkook gathers none of you have spotted him yet, as you would point it out. So he carries on until he reaches the door, opening it just a tad, making just enough room for his large frame to slip through the crack.
Finally being out in the open, away from the ongoing dinner inside, Jungkook hurries down the path that leads from the terrace to the driveway. His eyes find Taehyung’s car — it sits exactly where he left it, untouched and unmoved, still in the driveway. Seeing it almost gives him war flashbacks from earlier, and he tries his best blocking out the memory of your foot against his leg. How it brushed against him only for a second, then once again. The peak of his demise.
When he reaches the car, he pops the trunk open immediately, grimacing the second it lifts.
The bags have spilled, groceries lie scattered around. A mess, really, one he can thank none other than himself for.
He clicks his tongue. “Shit.”
His eyes go to the spilling reminders of your ice cream, the milky fluid having leaked out of its container. Poking at it once, he feels how soft it is, how the carton has fogged up and gone all wet. Fuck, it has been sitting out in the heat for too long.
Jungkook sighs miserably and starts pulling the groceries into a pile, shoving them back into the grocery bags one by one. He grabs the plastic once fully packed and starts carefully stacking the sachets on the pavement beside him so he’s able to carry it all in one trip.
And in the midst of all this, Jungkook is so focused on salvaging the groceries that he doesn’t even hear the footsteps approaching behind him. But he can’t help but flinch when a sudden voice cuts through his concentration.
“Boo!”
Taken by surprise, Jungkook lets out a strangled yelp while his body jerks forward, nearly headbutting the open trunk as he whips around. He recognizes your voice before even laying eyes on you.
You stand cross armed before him, still in the same sundress from before, looking at him with an unimpressed mine. The startled sound he just produced wasn’t a exclaim for the history books, something he can read from just the look on your face. After examining the flush on his face, your eyes drop to the grocery bags at his feet.
Jungkook scratches the back of his head nervously. “Jesus, you scared me.”
“Ah, I gathered that,” you respond, nodding in a belittling way with your eyebrows high on your forehead. A short laughter breaks from you as you probably play back the previous look on his face. “What the hell are you doing anyways?”
“Uh the—” Jungkook stops himself. He’ll probably have to answer why he’s not at dinner, either. Why he told Taehyung he was sick, while still prancing around outside in only a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. Nothing anyone with a real cold would do. “I forgot the bags—in the car—earlier today.”
You purse your lips while nodding. Jungkook can’t help but notice the goosebumps on your skin. The straps on your dress are tiny, you’ve got no real fabric protecting you from the cold. He wishes he never set foot outside, so that you wouldn’t have to stand outside shivering because of him. On that note — why exactly are you here…?
“So you’re lurking around late at night in order to save my candies?”
Great point you’re making, because it does sound stupid. But Jungkook would go to even further lengths to salvage what you hold dear to your heart — and since you seemed to care so much about your lollipops, your ice cream, your chips, he felt lurking around was needed. Although this might sound strange to you, since Jungkook has only known you for less than two days. So maybe he should keep quiet.
“I didn’t want to disturb you guys,” he ultimately answers, rocking back and forth trying to keep himself from bursting into flames in your presence.
A giggle escapes you. “You know—you could always join us…? Eat dinner with us? Maybe not hide out in your room?”
Fuck, how did you know he was hiding?
“It’s—I’ve caught a cold.” His voice is fragile, words bordering on a whisper. “I’m not hiding.”
“Pfft, come on,” you scoff, letting your head loll back — baring your neck to Jungkook. He can feel his mouth start watering, salivating at the view in front of him. Your soft skin, where your neck meets your chest, your collarbones, your gentle cleavage in that dress as you’ve crossed your arms tightly across your breasts. He snaps out of it the moment you straighten your neck, looking back at him with serious eyes. “Jungkook, I told you—you don’t have to be embarrassed. Not around me, anyways.”
Now, this is exactly why Jungkook has been hiding. Why are you always so forward, why can’t you just let him suffer in peace?
His ears go red immediately, and before he manages to answer, he swallows hard, trying to make himself look at serious and tough as possible. It’s hard for Jungkook, as he suffers from a condition called big, black puppy eyes.
“I’m not embarrassed,” he lies, stuffing his hands in his pockets. The bags around him stand still, the trunk stays open, and there’s nowhere for him to go. He’s trapped.
“Mhm, okay.” Your eyes skim over his body, locking with the yellow crab on his t-shirt. How embarrassing. The shirt is tighter than what he would usually wear, so he suddenly feels like he’s on display. He flexes his stomach (force of habit), hoping he might look good under your eyes. You smile in response. “Okay—so you say you’re not embarrassed. But you’re nervous.”
Jungkook can’t even manage to get a single word or sound out before you let your arms fall from their crossed position. As they slip, you take a step forward, breathing in a deep breath. Your chest rises, the outline of your soft cleavage making a strong appearance, before it falls again.
With you walking towards him, with you in that dress, Jungkook’s eyes go wild. His eyes flick over your face, your chest, your stomach, before falling to your feet.
Mother of god.
You’re barefoot.
“Could you…?” you ask, eyes going to the bags by Jungkook’s feet.
He doesn’t even think twice. With nervous kicks, he shoves the bags out of the way, the contents spilling out and landing scattered around in the driveway. At least — it clears your path. Which is all Jungkook cares for.
“And the—”
Jungkook won’t let you finish your sentence. Before you reach him, he hurriedly stretches his arm out, aiming for the trunk and shutting it close. It almost hits his head, but he’s quick enough to move away, holding your eyes the entire time.
You stop maybe two feet before him, looking over at Jungkook as he nervously leans his back against the trunk. A smile spread across your face.
“What do you study?”
Huh?
Jungkook parts his lips, but no sound comes out. He doesn’t know exactly what he was expecting, but it most certainly wasn’t small-talk. Not when it looks like you’re about to eat him alive.
“Uh… I—cybersecurity,” he finally manages. His eyes can’t help but flick over every single part of you, trying to ignore your bare feet. He has never before found feet attractive — he doesn’t find feet attractive. So what on earth is it that you do to him?
“Do you like it?”
“Well—yeah, it’s alright.”
You step forward, watching his every reaction. His eyes dart down to yours as you close in on him. Still, you continue talking — like nothing’s going on. “Are you good with computers?”
Jungkook’s breath hitches at he feels your breath against his skin. None of your body parts are touching yet, your knees haven’t even met his. Yet, he feels like he might fold in half where he stands. His arms shoot out behind him, bracing himself on the polished trunk, veins popping underneath his skin as he tries to restrain himself.
“Yea-uh,” his voice cracks halfway through the word. Trying to redeem himself, he coughs once, looking up into the air above him. He breathes out, trying to steady himself. “I’d say so.”
Your eyes are glued to him, and he even feels you huffing out a laugh against him. And suddenly, he feels skin brush against his knee. Your thigh. Your thigh still hidden behind your soft dress. Without meaning to, he gasps.
“You play video games?”
He can only nod, still looking up, trying to keep his cool. He might just come off even more nervous. But he can’t help it. The fabric of his shorts, his boxers, start tightening around his crotch as he feels himself growing. By how close you are, he gathers you’ll soon be able to feel it too.
Tilting your head, you lean into him, rising on your tippy toes in order to reach the skin by his ear. “Think you could teach me once?”
“Uh—of course. Yeah—I could do th—”
Jungkook feels a pair of soft lips against his neck before he can finish speaking.
His entire body shudders, and the bulge in his pants continues to rise. Your lips part once, taking his skin in deeper, letting the wet part of your mouth reach him. It’s so incredibly soft, so tender, that Jungkook almost feels his stomach grow sick. Involuntarily, he lets out a whine, and your name follows.
“W-what are you doing?”
You shush him softly, tracing his neck with your kisses, your plush lips welcoming his salty skin. Jungkook thinks his knees might buckle when he hears you give a small moan, bracing his arms behind him, trying to dig his fingernails into the car’s polish. There’s no use.
Letting a breathy laugh leave you, you answer his question with a low voice. “I’m just paying in advance.”
“H-huh?”
The kisses start moving upwards, and you let one of your hands find his lap. Jungkook flinches, his thighs twitching, alongside the growing cock hidden away in his pants. You purr against his skin, soft lips meeting his jaw as you stretch taller.
“You’re gonna teach me how to play—aren’t you?”
Jungkook wasn’t really paying attention to your meaningless small-talk — but he’ll never deny you anything. However, he knows you’re not being serious. He feels you’re egging him on, teasing him, riling him up.
None of that matters now that your lips are on him. They are even softer than he had imagined, and now that it’s finally happening, it feels like his cock is about to explode in his boxers. He’s so hard it’s starting to hurt, the length of him twitching every time your small hand squeezes his thigh through the shorts’ fabric.
Fuck this — he has you now.
In no less than a second, his hands are on you. He gives up on his quest for the stars, where he stands looking up at the sky trying to avoid you. It has been twenty fucking years, and Jungkook is yet to have had a good kiss. A great fucking kiss.
His hands find your waist, knead the supple flesh there before he pulls you in. Your lips crash together, and he shivers at the sound of your surprised gasp. Whining into your mouth, Jungkook lets one hand find the small of your back while the other still holds onto your waist.
You feel so unbelievably soft in his grip, so small and tender. The force of Jungkook’s kiss, the un-expectancy of it has you tumbling forwards, falling into Jungkook’s arms. But you still manage to assert some dominance, pushing on his knees in order to part them before you slip between his legs with ease.
Holy fuck — he can feel you between his legs. You’re in between his legs. Pressing against him, pushing yourself further into him.
“Ohh—fuck,” Jungkook whines as you roll your hips softly, simply letting him know you’re there. And he knows alright, the bulge in his pants twitches and pulsates at the feel of you. Impatient and so extremely touch-deprived, Jungkook pushes his tongue against your lips in order to part them. You let him slip in easily, the muscle rolling into your mouth messily.
The two of you gasp, moan, whine into the wet kisses, going at each other like starved animals. Although the only starved one here is him.
“Jungkook?” you ask in the midst of a kiss, such a soft voice that has Jungkook’s breath hitching in response.
“Mm-hm?” He whines as you press against him once again, the bulge in his pants brushing against your crotch. It feels so fucking good — nothing he has ever felt before. It’s even better than jerking off, even though all his clothes are still on. Why is that? Are you a witch?
One of your hands find Jungkook’s cheek, brushing a gentle thumb against his skin. You give him a tiny peck before retracting, staring up at his big, glistening, wondering eyes.
“I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with.”
Jesus christ.
This either means: 1) you’re nasty as shit or: 2) you know he’s a virgin.
He prays to god it’s not the ladder. Or maybe… he does. Then it would explain why he might not be so good to you, if he might do something horrible or something you don’t like. He has no idea.
His eyes grow wider, if possible, and he wets his lips twice, wishing for more kisses. “It’s okay—I’m okay—I promise.”
The words roll off his tongue, or rather tumble out his mouth, and he eagerly leans in to kiss you again. He has felt nothing like it, how soft your lips are, how sweet you taste. He could kiss you forever, every day, all the time.
Your tinkling laughter reappears, and you back away from his kiss. Jungkook is stronger, and still keeps you close to him, but he can’t seem to reach your mouth. So he whines yet again.
“Shh—Jungkook, slow down—I’m not going anywhere,” you say in between your giggles, pressing both palms flat against his chest. Your cheeks flush the moment you feel his plump skin under your hands, something Jungkook can’t help but love.
“Then kiss me—come on!”
You reach out for his erection, cupping a palm over the bulge in his pants and squeezing tight. All the air in Jungkook’s lungs is punched out, and he lets go of your waist. His hand shoots up, and he bites down on the back of his hand, trying to suppress an embarrassing moan. The others are still inside, after all. Only a few walls away. They could slip out and see the two of you, just as easily as you did just a few minutes ago.
The palm rubs over his length as you lock eyes with him, even though Jungkook keeps trying to shut them. You lean further into him, purr when Jungkook digs his soft fingernails into the small of your back. He’s unbelievably hard.
“We have to take it slow, Jungkook—if it’s your first.”
There it is. Jungkook clenches his eyes shut, a harsh rumble escaping from his throat as his cock twitches in your grip. He can feel himself spilling in his boxers, leaking from the tip. He knows he’ll come harder than ever before if you continue, but he can’t wiggle out of your grip. It feels to good. Instead, he embarrassingly enough starts slowly rutting into your palm.
You click your tongue and lean into Jungkook, your breath fanning his neck. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”
“S-so good,” Jungkook breathes, throwing his head back and leaning heavier against the trunk. His hips thrust into your hand, and you haven’t even wrapped yourself around him. It’s just a tease, but a tease that feels so good Jungkook is about to start levitating.
“You know what would feel better, Kookie?”
Oh my fucking god. Jungkook sees white, the sound of the sugary nickname on your lips causing him to tremble in your grip. He pulls you tighter against him with the hand on your back, searching for your lips. When they meet, he shamelessly moans into your mouth, rolling his tongue against yours, biting and sucking down on your bottom lip.
You gasp and purr against him, cupping his erection even harder as you start applying slow strokes to him. He feels heavy in your palm, thick and long.
Breathing hot against his lips, you kitten-lick his mouth, pulling away to tell him sweet nothings, words that leave Jungkook white. “Wouldn’t it feel better to have my mouth on you, Kookie?”
Absolutely not. No way in hell. Nuh-uh.
Jungkook shudders only hearing you suggest it. Of course it would feel better — he’d fuck your throat so hard you wouldn’t be able to speak for days. But he can’t, he knows he can’t. He’d come so embarrassingly fast that he’d ruin everything. On top of that, he wouldn’t be able to fuck you. To finally get laid.
He shakes his head against your kiss, whining when you tease the tip of his cock through the shorts. You let your thumb find the slit of him, rubbing around it before pressing your palm hot over the bulge again.
“No?” you ask, biting down on his bottom lip. “You wouldn’t want that? You wouldn’t want my lips around your cock? Wouldn’t want me to choke on you? You’re big, Kookie. You wouldn’t want your big cock in my pretty little mouth? Would it be too much?”
Mother of god. Jungkook feels like a dog hearing all his favorite buzzwords. You’re just throwing them out there, hoping for a reaction.
Trying not to lose his composure, or the tiny bit of it he had left, he lets go of your back. Both hands come behind him to rest on the truck, breathing out deeply as you continue lathering him with kisses. Just like him, you switch positions. Your hand lets go of his erection, but you replace the stimulation by grinding against his crotch. Jungkook’s breath hitches, and he shuts his eyes hard, actively trying not to come in his shorts. It seems fucking impossible, the combination of your kisses and the way you press against his cock has stars dancing in his eyelids.
“You don’t want that, Kookie?” you breathe out seductively, both hands coming to play with his mullet. “You don’t want your cock in my mouth?”
“N-yes! But—” he stutters, trembling while you rub yourself on him. Both his boxers and shorts are about to turn very wet, the precum leaking out of him ruining both fabrics. “Can’t. I can’t.”
You pout, but kiss him nonetheless. Your tongues move in perfect synchronization, and Jungkook thinks this might be all he needs. Until something gives him away. Because as your moans die down, another sound breaks through — the sound of Jungkook’s stomach rumbling.
Fuck that’s embarrassing.
He wines, leaning further back, but that only invites you to press yourself harder against his cock. And as you notice his talkative stomach, you giggle.
“Hungry, Kookie?”
God yes. God, he’s hungry. He’s so hungry he could die. But he’s determined to do nothing about it. He wants to stay here, with you, kiss you forever. Feel you rub yourself on him, feel your fingers in his hair. Have your soft lips on his, have your sweet, sweet tongue deep in his mouth.
But he is hungry, there’s no denying that. His stomach continues growling, causing you to scoff out teasing laughs every single time. But that’s only until Jungkook feel you smile devilishly against his kisses. And Jungkook — a fond watcher of porn — thinks he might know what you’re up to.
You slide one hand from the back of his neck, finger finding his jugular, and you slowly wrap them around his throat — very lightly. Tickling his skin. And as you retreat from the kiss, you lock eyes with Jungkook.
“How hungry are you—exactly?”
Jungkook waists no fucking time now. He has seen this in porn too many times to want to wait. He’s fucking starving, and by what he has seen on the numerous raunchy sites, there’s only one thing that can ease his cravings.
Suddenly, his hands find the back of your thighs, and with ease — he lifts you from the ground.
You give a quiet squeal, pressing your lips harder against his, letting your body melt with his. He drinks is the feeling of your spread legs wrapped around him, how the dress has risen up your thighs, almost exposing your panties to him. There’s almost nothing concealing you from him, and as he has you in his arms, Jungkook feels his cock grow even more.
He turns with you wrapped around him, backing off from the trunk in order to switch places with you. As your ass meets the cool car polish, you sigh against his kiss, and the sound makes it hard for Jungkook to let go of you. He wishes he could carry you around everywhere, all the time. That you would maybe give up on walking, let him keep you in his arms for him to work as a personal carrier.
But he lets you go nonetheless, pushing himself in between your legs while his hands move up your back, one finding rest on the back of your neck while the other caresses the space between your shoulder blades.
“Wow,” you tease, giving him one last peck before baring your neck for Jungkook to access the sweet skin there. He latches onto it immediately, kissing and sucking on your jugular. “I didn’t know you had it in you, Jungkook.”
“Mhm,” he hums while lathering you in wet kisses, lips pressing down on a particular spot that has you squirming. The hand between your shoulder blades roams further, slips down your back and makes its way to your thighs. He feels your bare skin for the first time, instinctively rutting forward, his erection pressing hot and heavy against your panties. “Oh fuck.”
Jungkook grows impatient, and in a hurry, he takes ahold of the hem of your dress, dragging it upwards until your ass is bare. You help with a compliant lift of your hips. Your bare cheeks are revealed, and Jungkook immediately lets a big palm find the firm flesh there, kneading it while still rolling his hips into your crotch.
Both his boxers and shorts are almost ruined with his precum, the constant leak. He knows he can’t keep going like this — that he will break if this goes on for any longer. And since his stomach has been growling, since he is so hungry, he lets go of your neck and starts kissing lower.
“Fuck—Kookie—are you sure?” you breathe as Jungkook starts applying kisses to your breasts. He’s easily distracted, and once his lips meet the soft flesh of your cleavage, he almost forgets the path he has taken on. Jungkook bites down on one of your breasts, licking and kissing the mark in order to ease the small amount of pain. “Ah—oh my god.”
It seems like you can’t take it anymore, and you help Jungkook without him even asking. You let your head loll back as your hands go to the waistband of your panties. Hooking your fingers into the fabric, you start wiggling out of the fabric. Jungkook groans against your neck as you start undressing yourself, taking a small step back in order for you to rid yourself of your underwear.
The fabric bunches around your ankles, and Jungkook hastily takes ahold of the hem — ripping it off you in an instant.
“Oh my god I need you so bad,” he whines as he lets go of your neck with a slick pop, looking proudly at the red mark he has left behind. That will stay. Jungkook just marked you — for everyone to see. Holy fuck.
You only sigh in respond, but you do it so prettily. Jungkook’s brain tangles, and he no longer sees straight. He forgets all about rutting into you like an animal in heat, and suddenly drops to his knees without warning. Jungkook shoves you further onto the trunk, the sound of it squeaky and humorous, but not enough for him to snap out of his trance.
When met with the new view before him, he whimpers. There’s no other way to explain it — Jungkook whimpers at the sight of your bare cunt.
Porn can’t compare, Jungkook knows this now. God why has he held himself back for so long, why hasn’t he been met with the real deal before now? Or is it just you? Is it just you and your perfect, soft, wet, glittering pussy? Jungkook has nothing to compare this to (other than the on-screen vaginas he has seen before), but he can confidently say this is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen.
He releases a moan that carries your name, eyebrows lifting high on his forehead. And what really seals the deal is when he feels your fingers in his hair. He looks up at you with big eyes, almost breaking in half when he sees the flush on your cheeks, how you press your lips together in order not to let out any sound.
Jungkook realizes, while sitting down on his knees in front of your parted legs and dripping cunt, that he has no idea how to do this. He’s a fast learner, and he usually excels at everything he tries — but this is human anatomy. What if he’s awful? What if you don’t like it? He would never want to disappoint you, and he would most of all want you to feel good — to make you cry, scream, beg for him to keep going, beg for him to stop.
His eyes give away all his questions before he even has to ask. You lick down on your lips, caressing his scalp as your fingers play with his soft hair.
“Kookie, just—” you say in between a breath, almost like you know exactly what’s going on inside his head. “Just start out with a kiss—okay?”
Okay, he can do that. He gives you one single nod, his eyes tripling in size before he looks back down on the meal before him. Before actually kissing it, he moves his hand, letting his knuckles drag experimentally through your wetness.
To his surprise, you twitch before him, letting out a whimper. And even more surprising is what Jungkook sees before him — the white slick that leaks from you. His lips part instinctively, and his mouth waters. Is this all for him? Is he doing this to you?
Jungkook leans in, feeling your fingers tighten in his hair as he closes in on your wetness. And slowly, he closes his eyes, parts his lips even further, and kisses the soft, beautiful nub that crowns your mound.
Holy fuck.
Your hips jerk upwards, but there’s no use. Jungkook has just gotten the taste of something life altering. His eyes open, still kissing down on your clit, and like clockwork — he plants another kiss there.
“Oh my—fuck,” you moan as you breathe out, fist closing around a big chunk of Jungkook’s silky hair.
Is this what he has been missing out on this entire time? Is he a fucking idiot? Is this what he has been giving up — and for what? To play video games, get drunk and sing karaoke with his friends, refusing to get laid? What a fucking dumb idiot he is.
Now that he’s here, he gets drunk off you. Absolutely hammered.
His hands push both your knees to the side, spreading you further apart, and he dives in yet again. This time, he does exactly like when kissing you — rolling his tongue out, this time letting it catch in your clit. He realizes this might not be such a poor method, as your writhe before him whenever he nudges the wet nub.
“Jesus—Jungkook, right there.”
Dingdingding — jackpot.
He flattens his tongue, delving down and lapping at you like a parched animal. His hands spread apart your legs, fingertips digging into the supple flesh of your thighs as he goes — to — town.
Nothing has ever tasted this good before. Your juices have Jungkook’s mind going hazy, his thoughts wiping out. His eyebrows curl together low on his forehead, concentrating to the fullest as he eats you out with the sole purpose of his own pleasure. Because it tastes so fucking good. Where have you been all this time?
Your clit twitches on his tongue, and you try scooting away from his mouth, but Jungkook’s strong hands pin you down against the car.
A moan gets caught in your throat. “Mrph—Jungkook, oh my god—you’re doing s-so good.”
The praise flies right above Jungkook’s head. He can’t hear or see shit. He wishes he could do what all the guys do in porn — lock eyes with you and map out every single one of your reactions, your pretty facial expressions. But he’s too far gone to be doing all that. You taste too fucking good.
More and more juices keep leaking from you, covering his tongue as he messily eats away at you. He drags his tongue lower, gathering your slick purely because of its sweet taste, but suddenly gets a feel of a pulsating, sopping hole.
He moans against your pussy at the new discovery, mapping out the hole with the tip of his tongue. It keeps spasming, keeps pulsating, and Jungkook’s expression only grows more concentrated when experimentally dipping the tip of his tongue into your wet center.
Your head lolls back in pleasure, and you tug on Jungkook’s hair. You’re so incredibly taken aback by Jungkook’s skillful use of tongue, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he slowly lets the thick muscle sink into your core. “Yes—yes, Jungkook—oh my god.”
Oh my god is right — because with where Jungkook’s tongue is buried now, he can taste all of you. His brows furrow even further, similar to the expression he makes when eating great food, and he slowly lets his tongue curl inside you, mapping out every single inch of your insides. It’s all so wet, so warm, and your sweet slick covers his entire face. His chin is dripping with your juices, and he’s nearly suffocating on your cunt. But it’s all good — Jungkook would happily choke and die here.
As Jungkook retracts his tongue, you jump at the sensation. But he needs more, he needs to savor the taste of you. His arms move, curling around your thighs, and he shoves you against his face — his tongue entering you once again as his nose presses against your clit.
“Kookie—please—” you cry out, causing Jungkook’s eyes to search for yours, afraid he might’ve done something wrong. And as your eyes meet, Jungkook’s cock jumps in his shorts.
The corner of your eyes, the top of your sweet cheeks, are covered in tears. Wet, glittering, beautiful tears that Jungkook wishes he could lick away. But his tongue might be a bit busy at the moment. Jungkook waits for you to catch your breath, continue speaking, and he watches the way your belly moves up and down, how you’re panting.
You caress his scalp again, his hair, twirling it around in your grip. The look on your face is nothing short of pleading, and Jungkook believes he can come right here and now.
“Please—” you continue. “Fuck me with your tongue. Fuck me s-so good.”
Point taken.
Jungkook waits no more time, always following orders, and starts doing as told — fucking you dumb with his tongue.
It retracts, pushes back in, repeat — repeat. When diving back in, he buries his big nose right onto your pretty clit, shaking his head a bit just to make your thighs shake. He loves when your thighs shake. He wants more of it. And they shake so beautifully, spasm so perfectly, whenever he rubs against your highpoint. So thinking no more of it, he presses a thumb against it, flicking over the sensitive area until you can do no more but cry out his name into the summer night.
He wants you to break. Wants you to feel as helpless as he has been feeling for the past days. He wants you trembling on his tongue. And if the sounds you are producing are anything to go by — he’s almost there.
Once feeling your thighs clamping around his head, his hands go back to pulling you further apart for him, and Jungkook’s tongue again finds your clit. The muscle has gone all slick and wet, more than before, and he uses it to repeatedly flick over the nub until you writhe against his face.
“Fuck I’m gonna—” you start, breathing heavily as Jungkook won’t give up on stimulating your clit. He uses only the tip of his tongue, flicking fast over it, causing you to tug on his hair. “Oh my god please don’t stop!”
He won’t stop — he’s not fucking brain dead. He’s hungry, starving, loving the sweet, perfect taste of you. And trying to down it even further, he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking on it in order to drink you up completely. His tongue rolls with the suction, working over the nub until you can’t take it anymore. He lets go only once, in order to come up for air and gasp, but he quickly delves in again.
You break in half.
Your whole body locks, and even as Jungkook keeps you spread open for him, your thighs try clamping around him. You clench your fist in his hair, the other hand slamming down on the trunk, and you call out his name in a row of beautiful moans.
As you come, Jungkook loses it completely. It’s the most wonderful thing he has ever experienced, and as you spasm in his grip, on his tongue, he just continues sucking. He won’t give this up — he wouldn’t give this taste up for anything in the world. So Jungkook sucks, moans, pants, acting out on pure instinct as you fall apart for him.
But you try getting him to ease up, try pushing him away — something Jungkook won’t have.
“Jungkook—fuck, stop—oh my god,” you say between moans, head lolling back in pleasure filled pain. One of your feet come up to Jungkook’s shoulder, desperately trying to kick him off. Your back arches, and you try and try and try, but Jungkook won’t let up.
He knows you like this — knows you love it. Because why else would your core keep pulsating, clenching around nothing, producing more sweet juice for Jungkook to lap at?
“Please, Kookie—for fucks sake, s-stop.”
You yank his head back with the fist curled up in his hair, causing Jungkook to finally give your clit a rest, hissing as you’ve hurt his scalp.
As he looks up at you, finds your eyes, he gasps. The tears have now fallen completely, covered your entire face, some small droplets still creasing in the corners of your eyes. You look so pretty when you’re fucked out. How is that even possible?
His chest moves up and down as he finally comes up for air, arms still wrapped around your thighs. When drinking in the state of you, he starts worrying the tears might be a bad thing, that he hurt you. That you kicked him off because he hurt you — and he never meant to do that. He would never, ever hurt you.
The words tumble out of his mouth. “Wha—what—I’m sorry, I’m so sorry did I hurt you?”
Still trying to catch your breath, you thankfully give him a smile. You ease the hand tangled in his hair and let it move to his mullet. “Awh—aw no, you’re so sweet,” you say, caressing him as he looks up at you like a lost puppy. “It’s just—it’s sensitive. That’s just how it is for girls. For everyone, Kookie. You did nothing wrong. You did so—so good.”
Jungkook lets out a big sigh, suddenly feeling that his chin is starting to grow cold. He let’s the back of his hand meet the skin there, noticing how slick it is, and wipes it off at once.
“Okay, that’s good. I’m happy I did good,” he answers awkwardly, now unsure of where to put his hands. He lets them find rest on his knees, rubbing down on them while his eyes drown in yours.
You tilt your head to the side, give him a comforting smile and reach for him with grabby hands. “Look—come here.”
He does as told, rising to his feet and lets your hands find his soft cheeks. You pull him in for a kiss, quick and playful pecks that move from his lips, to his chin, to his jaw.
“You’re a mess now, Jungkook.”
“It’s okay—I kinda like it,” he says in a whisper, closing his eyes in pure bliss as your kisses move further down, finding his neck.
You’re sensitive. You just told him you’re sensitive. That all girls are — even boys. So his hopes drop just a tiny bit.
Maybe he won’t get laid tonight, maybe that will have to wait. It might be sad, but Jungkook at least got a taste of something borderline perfect. He got to drink you in, make you cry. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get over it. Maybe he can ask to do this every day. Wouldn’t you like that? It’s at least his new favorite thing ever, or at least top three.
As his thoughts run wild, his breath suddenly leaves him.
Because you push yourself further into him, all the while you’re kissing and licking down on his neck, tongue swirling over his Adam’s apple, feeling the way it bobs when Jungkook swallows hard at the new sensation. The feel of your bare, sopping pussy pressing ever so gently over his still hard and clothed cock.
Jungkook has never been this hard in his life. He bets his balls have turned blue, maybe even purple.
He gives your name in a low breath, “We don’t—ah—we don’t have to…” You grind into him once more, a moan getting caught in his throat.
“Jungkook, take off those shorts now.”
Holy fuck this is happening. Holy fuck holy fuck holy fuck.
Wait — aren’t you sensitive? Whatever that means.
Jungkook doesn’t care right now, he wants to feel you. Correction — he wants to fuck you. Deep. Fuck you until Taehyung and Sara can hear, until they rush out to see why you’re screaming, see if you’re being attacked or killed, only to find out you have Jungkook’s cock shoved so deep inside you that your stomach shows the outline of him. Until you can’t fucking think, speak or walk.
Something like that, at least.
Anyways, Jungkook spends no more than two seconds in his ruined shorts. He pulls them off so hurriedly that you can’t help but laugh. There’s really no time to take notice of the wet patch in his Calvin Klein’s as he pulls them down just as past as the pants. Both stay bunched on his thighs, just enough for his cock to spring free.
When it does, when he’s bared to you, a sound nothing short of a gasp leaves you.
He’s thick, long, big — and most of all leaking. The tip of him has gone dark red, flushed and angry, precum seeping from his slit every so often. And upon seeing him, your mouth waters — and you’re quite literally gagged.
“Okay… alright—wow.” You tuck loose strands of hair behind your ears, your cheeks growing warmer by the second.
Jungkook takes this the wrong way, suddenly a bit embarrassed by how hard he is. “Uh, yeah—well, sorry it’s just—I’ve never—”
“Fuck Kookie—you’re so big.”
Oh. Oh, that’s why your jaw is slacking. Jungkook can’t help but smile, his embarrassment turning into pride. He feels snug as a bug, actually. He can live with this. A pretty girl just gasped at the size of him.
“You’re gonna have to take it slow, okay Kookie? You think you can do that for me?” you ask with a gentle voice, bracing your arms behind you on the trunk as you spread your legs again, now even further to accommodate the size of him.
Jungkook nods fast and a lot. Okay, he’ll be careful. He’ll take it slow. No problem.
You’re still so wet, you still look so sweet, and Jungkook could possibly come just by looking at your sopping cunt. But that’s what porn is for. He has the real deal now, and he has to bury himself inside you by yesterday.
Taking a single step forward, Jungkook reaches for his cock, but is pleasantly surprised that your smaller hand takes his place.
He uncontrollably whines at the feel, your grip gentle but commanding, wrapping around the girth of him in order to angle his hard on directly to your entrance. You tease for a bit, letting the leaking head of him just get a feel of you first.
“Oh my fuck holy fuck,” Jungkook gasps, even more precum slipping out of him as you drag the tip through your puffy folds, letting it catch in your clit. That last part has even you moaning, eyebrows creasing as your jaw goes slack.
“Fuck—feels so good, Kookie.”
“Yeah?” he asks in an embarrassingly high pitch, eyes locking with how his cock slips through your wetness. He leans further forward, both hands going to your waist, caressing you before finding shelter on your ass. Jungkook grabs two handfuls of your flesh and starts kneading, his cock almost exploding when you slowly drag it through your pussy once again. “Ah—yeah? Feels good?”
“Feels so good Jungkook, just—just take it slow, okay?”
Fuck okay, okay he has to take it slow — he needs to take it slow. He can’t come right away, he just can’t. That’ll be too embarrassing.
“Okay I’ll take it slow—I’ll be good, I’ll be—I’ll be so good,” Jungkook whines, eyes darting up to search for yours. He drowns in them immediately, how pleading they look, and immediately forgets all about his promise.
He leans in for a deep kiss, and uncontrollably ruts forward, his cock once again sliding through your pussy, this time a bit more awkwardly, a bit messily. You gasp against his lips, but immediately reroute his shaft, pressing the head of him directly against your entrance. And with a deep breath, a wet kiss, Jungkook pushes forward.
Jungkook whines out a deep moan of your name traced upon his lips, a moan that comes from low within his chest, maybe even all the way down from his stomach. He feels every single wet wall of yours pulsating and clenching around his skin — the feeling something he has no way to put into words.
Do people really do this? Do people have access to this daily? Is this what Taehyung and Sara keep doing every single day?
Suddenly, Jungkook wants a girlfriend. Or maybe just to fuck everything. Everyone. Or maybe it’s just you. Maybe it’s just your pussy that has him acting this way. Because there is no fucking way, absolutely no fucking way.
“Jesus—oh my fucking god—feels so fucking good,” Jungkook moans hoarsely, pushing even further in, slowly (as you’ve told him), until he is completely bottomed out. “Ah—holy fuck.”
He buries himself balls deep inside you, his head falling to your shoulder the moment he’s all the way in. You comfort him despite the harsh fit of him inside you, hugging him tightly against your chest while drawing circles with your nails on his muscly back.
Jungkook’s entire body shudders against you, and he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to move even if he tries. But he feels you pulsate around him, and you feel so warm, so plush. He has to move.
You’re so wet he almost slips out of you when retracting, holding onto your ass cheeks for his dear life in order not to come right away. And as he pushes further in, you moan so prettily that he has to shut his eyes. He wishes he could watch what’s happening, look at how your juices covers his abdomen, but he can’t. He just has to pray to every god out there that he won’t come.
“You’re so big baby—mrph—take it slow,” you whimper, placing a kiss on the soft skin behind his ear.
Baby. You called him baby.
Alright that’s it — pound time.
Jungkook moans at the pet-name, retracting from your heat then surging forward, not caring even a bit about taking it slow. Fuck taking it slow — he needs you screaming. Crying again.
And you do, loudly. When Jungkook sets a mean pace, you scream out over his shoulder, burying wet eyes in the crook of his neck. Your whole body jumps with every thrust of Jungkook’s hips, and he lets out animalistic noises every time he feels you clench around him. He might be a bit too big for you — he feels that — as the fit is so unbelievably snug that Jungkook’s vision almost wipes clean out.
Fuck, he has to swallow his moans. He needs to silence himself — focus.
One of the hands squeezing your ass tumbles upwards, searching for your chest. He reaches for the fabric of your dress, happy to find you’re not wearing a bra, and simply just rips. The dress tears, the seams hanging loose across his tattooed fingers — but at least your tit pops out.
Jungkook’s eyes widen. He has never seen such a pretty breast. So perky, round, such a cute nipple. Bite-sized.
He wraps his lips around it without thinking twice and sucks for dear life.
You cry out, biting down on Jungkook’s ear in hopes of something. What it is, neither you or Jungkook knows. But you bite and suck when Jungkook bites and sucks, your moans breaking with every pound that Jungkook’s heavy cock bestows upon you.
“Fu—uu—uuck Jungkook!” you whine, resting your head above Jungkook’s, letting one hand find his hair again. You seem to have a habit of tugging and pulling on his hair — something Jungkook loves. And he loves your pretty tits. He loves the taste of your nipple. He loves the taste of your pussy. He loves your pussy. Maybe he should tell you this?
“Love this fucking pussy,” he mindlessly rambles while biting down on the peak of your tit, sweat dripping from his forehead. Jungkook slams his hips into you, his cock buried to the hilt inside you, but only for a mere second before sliding out — then right back in. If one can get drunk of pussy, Jungkook is exactly that. Pussy-drunk, and heavily that is. His breathing goes ragged, and he thrusts into you like a madman, not even letting you get a single word out. So he fills the silence himself.
“Love this pussy—how tight it is. How tight you feel around my cock. How it fits my cock perfectly, taking me like the slut you are.”
You clench the moment the word slut leaves his mouth.
Jungkook looks up at you, still near your tit, having left your nipple wet with spit. “You like that, huh? Me calling you slut?”
Apparently two can play this game. Jungkook isn’t even allowed to play big-shot for even a minute, as you suddenly pull on his hair, make him meet your eyes and bare his neck for you.
“Awh, that’s cute,” you purr, trying to keep yourself from moaning his name. Jungkook tries stealing glances, searching for a way to ogle at your tits bouncing with the force of his thrusts, but you make him look up at you. “Try not to cum right away, Kookie—can you do that? Even with how wet I am for you? H-how my pussy sucks you in so greedily?”
Your words might be a bit broken, a bit breathy with the way you’re taking his cock — but they send shivers down Jungkook’s spine.
His pace wavers for a second, but he snaps right back into it as he feels his balls tightening. Fuck — what a bad timing to come. He can’t come. Fuck, he can’t look at you, watch you like this. You look so flushed, so unbelievably fucked out. And it’s all because of him — this is his doing.
Jungkook closes his eyes and lets his head loll back, trying to uphold the thrusts but also not spurt into you after only a couple of minutes. But as his neck stretches before you, you lean into him, flinging your arms over his shoulder while whispering sweet nothings in his ear.
“I know you w-wanna cum, Kookie,” you whisper in a seductive tone, moaning so prettily when Jungkook slams into you repeatedly. “Know you wanna cum so bad—fill me up so nice. Have me dripping all over Tae’s car. Wouldn’t you like that? Have your cum so deep inside me, make me cry all over again? Huh, Kookie?”
A load and deep moan rips from Jungkook’s throat, spilling out into the free air above him. He wants to come so bad. He wants to fill you up so nicely. And right now, he can’t exactly think straight. He bets that he’ll be crossed if he looks back at you. So he keeps his head up, jaw slacking as he slams into you again and again and again.
Apparently, that last slam hits a spot you like. A spot you really like. You gasp, choking on a moan, before searching for Jungkook’s lips. Dear mother of god — Jungkook likes that. He likes that very much, he has to hit that spot again.
And he does, again, and again until you cry out into his mouth. All you can produce are long, incoherent rows of his name as Jungkook hits your sweet-spot repeatedly. Fuck, the noises are too good. Your pussy is too tight. Your lips are too soft. And it’s all too much when you suddenly start clenching, gasping for air as your body spasms in Jungkook’s grip. Fuck — your pussy is milking him dry.
With two final, deep thrusts, Jungkook buries his cock to the hilt, a long and rough moan tearing from his throat and spilling into your parted lips. The two of you gasp for air as thick ropes of Jungkook’s cum spills inside of your warm pussy. Now this is the hardest Jungkook has ever climaxed. The spillage just won’t stop, and he continues leaking, white and milky contents seeping out of your spent cunt, covering Jungkook’s abdomen.
He lets his head find your chest, forehead resting against your skin as he catches his breath. As his eyes open, he’s met with the view of his own cum dripping out of your pussy, spilling onto his own cock. Fuck, he fills you up so perfectly. Looks like he’s made to be there.
As the two of you come down from your high, you start caressing Jungkook’s scalp, the back of his neck. It has him shivering, your fingernails long enough to cause a slight tickle.
“Holy shit—th-that was the best thing ever,” he embarrassingly admits, breathing hot against your chest. He suddenly remembers ruining your dress, whining at the sight. “Ah—shit—I’m sorry about your dress—fuck.”
You giggle, finally, after so long he finally hears that beautiful giggle. “That’s all good.” With trembling fingers, you play with his hair, still shuddering after your orgasm. You let out a content hum, breathing through your nose. “You’re so cute.”
“I’m not cute—don’t say that.”
As your fingers move, both your hands come to cup his cheeks. You pull his head off your chest and force him to look you straight in the eyes before planting a soft kiss on his lips. “Unfortunately you are, Jungkook. You are really cute.”
The next kiss is just as soft, and neither of you feel the need to use tongue, to act lustful. It’s just a simple kiss. Just a soft, simple kiss. But Jungkook’s cheeks turn pink, and he shuts his eyes while breathing through his nose, kissing you still.
And there you stay for a while, still messy and locked, with Jungkook’s cock buried inside your warm heat, letting it soften as his cum seeps from your entrance. You’ve been loud enough for Taehyung and Sara to take notice of it — but Jungkook is guessing that they’re good enough friends to not break anything off. Even though you just fucked a girl on the trunk of Taehyung’s car.
That’s a worry for another time.
The worry comes earlier than excepted.
Jungkook slept in his own bed last night — but so did you.
After tearing each other apart on Taehyung’s car, Jungkook offered to carry you inside as your legs had stopped working and your dress was completely ruined. You of course let him do so, stealing tiny kisses from him as he carried you bridal-style all the way to the second floor. But you whined the moment he started walking towards your room, and demanded to sleep in his bed. When Jungkook tried knocking some sense into your head — telling you it would be best if the two of you kept a low profile — you simply laughed in his face.
You slept in his arms the entire night. It was a bit warm (or extremely sweaty, actually) and you tried to push Jungkook away numerous of times, but the attempts were all unsuccessful. Jungkook’s big arms caged you in, and when you tried wiggling away he locked you against his warm body by curling a thick thigh around you.
The sounds he made when sleeping bordered on soft purrs, and he believed he had never been a happier man. He just had sex. He just had sex with a beautiful girl and now she’s sleeping in his bed. He could dance, probably, but he was a bit too tired. So he optioned for the next best thing — falling asleep to your breathing.
But the happy, giddy illusion was all shattered when the door busted open in the morning.
Taehyung stands with fiery eyes in the doorframe, hair wild and everywhere.
He and Sara had apparently went to bed the second you slipped away from the dinner, and fell fast asleep with no worries in mind. They hadn’t even heard the fact that you guys had been fucking like animals outside.
But the problem has creeped up on Taehyung now, as he just went outside into the driveway, ready to take his car for a spin before going to the gym — when he was met with a big, melting stain of old cum on the back of the trunk. As well as a big mess of spilled groceries, wet ice cream seeping into the black and hot tires of his car.
“I hope the two of you had a great time last night, and I’m happy the plan worked, blah blah blah—whatever,” Taehyung hisses, curling his lips inward and jerking his neck. “If that car isn’t cleaned within ten minutes, I’ll castrate Jungkook and send you off to boarding school, miss.”
You apologize immediately, covering yourself with Jungkook’s blanket, looking over at him for any signs of embarrassment, remorse, confusion. But you find none, since Jungkook simply nods, bearing a big, teethy smile.
As Taehyung leaves the room, you turn to Jungkook yet again. He doesn’t seem to have noticed anything weird in Taehyung’s words.
Until he does.
His eyebrows crease low on his forehead, and he turns his head to you slowly. “Uh—plan?”
You let out an awkward giggle, scratching the back of your head. “Okay—don’t be angry with me,” you start, tumbling over your words. “But we kinda planned everything. For me… to you know… sleep with you.”
Mhm. Okay.
Jungkook doesn’t give a fuck at all. Not a single fuck. He just had sex last night. He just had great, fucking, mind-blowing sex. Who cares about Taehyung’s car? Who cares if it was all a plot?
Without even answering, Jungkook leans in with slender eyes, smiling as he kisses you. You on the other hand look confused, not really understanding why he’s not more riled up. You don’t really kiss him back, you just sit still. However, your heart does a weird little flip. Your head tells it to stop, but somehow… it just doesn’t.
And Jungkook keeps his blissful energy, humming contentedly against your lips. The world is all butterflies and rainbows. The world is beautiful, and so are you.