summary: in which maybe you and jungkook get married one day, but who knows?
idol!jk x afab!reader / fluffy fluff with a dash of angst / word count: 2.4k
warnings/content: suggestive, butt mentions lmaoaoao, talks of marriage and breaking up <3/3 oc cries :,(
> in which masterlist!
note: hi here’s some surprise self-indulgent fluff written in one sitting in pure art fashion because i couldn’t sleep :,( i have a lot of plot focused drabbles lined up (oc has too much lore t_t) and a fic !! planned out though so hopefully i get to work on them in the summer <3 + comment/send an ask to be added to the taglist!
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your playlist softly plays in the background from your phone, left untouched for the past couple hours since you became occupied with your kindle. the music gets lost every now and then because your dear boyfriend is a big fan of hilarious clips and dance challenges on the internet. he laughs, and he sings, and you can’t get mad because you will miss his different forms of noises once he has to leave. besides, he respects your reading time by instead sending you the tiktoks he wants to show you so he doesn’t break your focus.
however, the heartbreaking book has captured you and your mind has flown too far away.
“jungkook?”
he lifts his chin to meet your gaze. “mhmm?”
“what do we do if we break up?”
his smile quickly morphs into a frown, face illuminated by the screen of his phone.
along with his namjoon-hyung, jungkook trusts your judgment more than anyone else. he admits that you’re the more logical person between the two of you. you view life as a matter of survival. you’re not afraid to make sacrifices along the way if it means safeguarding your security. a pro at defense, a seasoned thief of hearts. he’s lucky enough to have become an extension of your heart, because you’re protective of him as much as you are protective of yourself.
though, sometimes, he wishes you weren’t so mindful of the future.
because his first instinct is to say that he will cry a river. beg on his knees. wait for you at the door every night. profess his love in every possible way. maybe even accidentally make the world collapse. print out your photos so he doesn’t forget your face. suffer for eternity because he has a memory of you attached in every little thing in every corner of his life. make a heartbreak album then follow the footsteps of his taeyang-sunbaenim. as much he wants to appear cool, he’s too far gone to refuse to admit to himself that he’s quite pathetic when it comes to you.
five years. five birthdays. six christmases. six new years. three years living together. he cried at your graduation day. you cried when they got their first grammy nomination. he knows you even just by the sound of your breathing and the weight of your step. he knows he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.
“what do you mean? why would we break up?”
“uh, i don’t even know,” you shrug and turn on your side to face him. “but that’s not the question. if we break up, what happens? what do we do? how do we detach from each other?”
“baby, it’s 1am,” he whines. “i don’t like thinking about this kind of stuff.”
“but don’t you think it’s important to have this conversation too?”
“why? why?” his eyes nearly double in size as he demands for a reason. “we don’t have any problems, do we?”
“we’re perfectly fine, babe!” you chuckle. “it’s just, i don’t know… we’ve been together a while. our lives are so intertwined now. we live together. we have bam!”
“yes, i know, exactly,” he nods, casually dropping one of the most romantic lines you’ve ever heard from him. “it’s that way because i intend on marrying you. i’m building us a house. a real house!”
your breath still hitches every time he mentions marriage. it isn’t news, and realistically it’s far away, but it makes you excited all the same. the thought of it used to suffocate you when you were younger. your life is a fairytale in the ugly and beautiful ways.
“exactly, right? marriage is even a bigger deal. so many couples end up hating each other after marrying. this is why we need to talk about this. we need to be prepared so we don’t hurt each other a lot.”
“ah, i really understand what you mean, but…!” jungkook slides down on the bed, squeezing himself against your body. he cages you in a bone-crushing hug and you try your hardest not to laugh at his adorable protest. “we’re not breaking up, though.”
“of course, we’re not. it’s hypothetical,” you playfully mess with his hair. “but i’ll sign the prenup, of course, when we get married. and i’d probably be the one to move out if we break up, right? and no matter what happens, we still co-parent bam?”
“okay, i’ll humor you,” he rolls his eyes, but a smirk is already pulling at the corner of his lips because you just said technically said ‘yes’ to his marriage proposal. “hmm, if it happens when we already live in the house, then you can just come back here.”
“what?” you look at him like he just said the earth is flat. “why would i want to live here after we break up?”
“then sell it. do whatever you want. i don’t care.”
“i can’t just accept a house from you!”
“you can when we get married. and what if it’s my fault?”
“oh, that’s a good point…” you pause to think. “but doesn’t that mean i have to give you a house if it’s my fault?”
“eh, isn’t that blackmail now?”
the two of you make eye contact, and you simultaneously burst out laughing. jungkook didn’t expect to be sweating from laughter minutes after hearing that question from you, but maybe he should’ve. you’re so good at putting his nerves at ease. you make living so fun that he doesn’t want to sleep.
“shouldn’t we decide based on those terms then? if it was a mutual decision or not? something like that?”
his heart flutters when you plant a gentle kiss on his forehead. hard to miss with the cold and sticky lip mask you dilligently apply on your lips before hopping into bed.
“what do you think the reason would be?”
“i thought that wasn’t the question?”
“well, you opened it up.”
“i honestly don’t know,” he genuinely sounds clueless, not having considered it at all. not since he made that impulsive decision when he was young and stupid, anyways. “i trust you. and we’re pretty in love, aren’t we?”
“you know…” you trail off, as if you’re guessing if you should continue your sentence or not. “if you could only have one, i swear i won’t hate you if you choose your career over me. i think i’m over that. i’m so much more mature than i was.”
“babe…”
“in fact, i’d get angrier at you if you do the opposite.”
“but that’s not fair,” he pouts, not agreeing with you. he’s not mad, but maybe a little upset that you consider giving up on him, even if it’s only a made-up scenario. “it- it’s not that simple anymore. we’re not just dating. maybe in 2018, 2019… but we’re way, way past that. you’re a part of me at this point. i love you. i want to marry you. we have a dog! we have a family. you- you’re my family. my family sees you as family. you’re a reason for me to live as much as performing. and you know how performing is like breathing for me? loving you is like that, too. having to choose will be the worst thing to ever happen to me. i mean it, seriously. i can’t do that-”
jungkook’s passion-fueled rant is interrupted by the sound of your sniffles.
“baby, are you crying?”
“you just work so hard,” and the rest of your words become caught in between sobs and gasps for air. “and i want nothing more than for you to reach all your dreams, and it hurts when i see you doubting yourself and when people are being assholes and when the world isn’t fair to those who play fair. you’ve been doing this for so long and you’ve given your entire soul to it. i just- want you to be happy and fulfilled.”
“yah, shh- babe, there’s no need to cry,” he sits up in panic, sweeping you into his arms. he brushes away the strands of hair sticking on your wet skin and peppers your face with light kisses. “why are you crying so much?”
“it just breaks my heart when you’re having a hard time.”
jungkook also tethers at the edge of sobbing. you’re one of the few people who knows almost everything that happens behind the scenes, and it feels so good to hear himself be recognized with such a deep level of respect and admiration. you have a very unique way of saving ‘i love you’ back. you’re a selfless utilitarian who loves logically and he’s a greedy bastard who gets everything he wants.
“but okay, fight for me as much as you want. since you made a strong case.”
“you drive me insane, you know that?” he mumbles. “you still make my heart beat like crazy. i don’t understand it. and i’m too old to be saying shit like this.”
you snort at his last sentence. “you’re so dramatic. 26 is not old.”
“wait until you turn 26, then you’ll feel old,” he argues, reaching for some tissue on the nightstand. “sometimes i forget you’re two years younger than me.”
“we’re soooo young,” you marvel at the realization while your boyfriend wipes away your tears. it’s such an odd feeling. you wonder if it’s normal to feel like you’ve lived a hundred lives at this age. you started living off part-time jobs almost a decade ago and now you’re living comfortably with a stable job. you were so convinced that you would end up dropping out of college because of debt. you ate everything but your pride. “i can’t wait to turn 30, and 40. i’m going to be such a cool adult.”
“blow your nose-”
“i’ll do it,” you snatch the tissue away from his hands, discarding it in the bin under your nightstand afterwards. “crying made me sleepy.”
once you return to cuddling position, you begin melting under jungkook’s starry eyes.
“kiss?”
he nods like a puppy, swiftly crossing the distance between your lips. you share a few more lazy kisses before fully settling down under the covers. you put your kindle away. your playlist has ended many minutes ago. the bedside lamps have been turned off, making your bedroom finally pitch black.
“we totally lost the topic,” jungkook whispers.
“that’s so on-brand,” you comment with your eyes closed. “what do we do about our premium subscriptions?”
“i don’t mind sharing forever.”
“until we find someone new to share with?”
“i won’t fall in love again,” he grumbles. “i’ll grow old and die alone.”
“shut up, you’d probably move back in with your members.”
he giggles as he imagines himself sharing a dorm with his hyungs in their 60s. will they still fight over stupid things? probably. “i guess that’s not so bad.”
“no but, breaking up is a lot of work. my wallpapers, my gallery… do we unfollow or block each other everywhere? we’d have to change passwords too. your credit cards are saved on my phone.”
“true, and you’ve seen my asshole. we can’t possibly break up after that.”
the word came up so out of the blue that your eyes automatically peeled open. you can see jungkook’s body vibrating with laughter even in the dark.
“i have your personal details on my phone and that is your concern?”
“wow- wow! are you invalidating my concern?”
“it’s not like i have a picture of it!”
“you can probably draw it from memory!”
“w-what-”
“no, you’ve already seen too much. we need to be together forever,” he announces with finality. “i’m not showing another person my asshole. you’re the first and the last.”
“oh my god!” you hit his chest in shock upon hearing it again. “i cannot take this discussion seriously anymore! how the fuck did you come up with that?”
“i feel like you see me naked more than i see myself naked. no- i mean, like, not as often, but… but you see more of my body.”
“it’s the same with me,” you point out. “it’s only fair game.”
“i know, it’s amazing,” he sighs dreamily. “you’re amazing. you’re beautiful. me? i’m the luckiest person in the world.”
“aw, thanks, my love. i’m just as in awe of you.”
your sweet voice compels him to inch closer to your body, burying his face on your chest. it’s quiet again for a moment. he yawns, and you catch it only seconds after.
“sometimes, i’m little afraid that we’d eventually get bored of each other and fall out of love after being together for so long,” you quietly confess the worry that urged you to open up the conversation earlier. “do you ever think about that?”
“isn’t that a common concern for every married couple?”
his warm breathing tickles a little. you push his head slightly to escape from it.
“i guess so… maybe it’s kind of cool that that’s the type of problem i get worried about.”
“see, babe? i told you. nothing to be scared of. look at us— we met six years ago and we still stay up all night talking like this.”
“but can i take our pillows in the divorce? i like our pillows.”
“okay,” he hums, giving little kisses on the skin along your collarbone.
“and the oven, too?”
“u-huh…”
“i’m the one who bought the treadmill.”
he uses it more than you and he doesn’t seem to care at all. “whatever you want, baby,”
“aren’t you supposed to fight me?” your fingers curl and grip the duvet hanging over his shoulder as his lips reach the sensitive areas of your neck, nipping and sucking. it’s too late in the night to wake up the butterflies in your stomach. “fuck, are you leaving marks?”
“you had it coming— got me feeling all territorial.”
“you know that i just end up covering them with makeup, right?”
“okay,” his hold on your waist becomes tighter. “use my card to buy new makeup.”
jungkook’s fantasies are tragically shattered when you abruptly flip around and turn your back on him.
“you’re not seeing my butt tonight. we need to keep the mystery alive or whatever.”
“huh, is that so?” he huffs in offense, deciding to bite back. “then you’re not seeing mine for an entire week!”
“fine! then you won’t see and touch mine for two weeks!”
“fine by me!”
“fine! goodnight!”
“i feel that,” you say in a threatening tone.
jungkook sighs obnoxiously and moves back his boxers-covered crotch, yet he insists on tangling his legs with yours and hugging your torso close. you know he can’t sleep without his personal pillow, after all.
“i am in a very awkward sleeping position right now, i hope you’re happy.”
you giggle in satisfaction. “yeah, we’re never breaking up.”
kinda age gap relationship — jimin is 30, reader is 25
cw: reader is jks sister, kinda secret relationship, jimin is lowk down bad, ending is a tribute to allie & dean from off campus series if ur niche enough to understand
𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ 西村 力 x yn. angsty/situationship nishimura riki texts. part 2. 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚
part 1 | part 2
ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ content: usage of pet names, riki is kinda nonchalant but starting to show his feelings, he’s very in love with u but tries not to show it but is lowkey v obvious, no specific pronouns mentioned but implied afab
idk how to write angst they’re getting cute already😞 probably will cap this at 3 parts
|| mr. jeon wasn't looking for a girlfriend when he hired you as a babysitter for his 5 year old son - however, he took a liking to seeing you in his own home, way more than he'd realized. (13k words)
content : age gap (31 & 22) , secretly down bad jungkook, mini slow burn, sensitive reader, teasing, jealousy moment, eventual smut (mention of m. masturbation, unprotected p in v, oral f. receiving, praise and degradation, edging, doggy, hair pulling, talking her thru it, small boobs appreciation, clit play ..), fluff, lwk mean dom kook, they want each other bad, reader has long hair, jungkook is kinda grumpy, themes of dom & sub faintly underlying
♡ bunny´s notes : dad jungkook is my fav trope ! i worked hard on ts,, lmk what u think (This took ages to write) >.< may contain typos or errors
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Life looks different twice a week.
On boring mondays and long wednesday evenings, you'd been making your way over to a neighbourhood that seemed far out of reach before, getting on a bus you'd never thought to ride. Lavish residences with blooming gardens line the streets of his district, among them, a rather dark looking, simple house; plain garden with a swing placed thoughtlessly right in the middle of the neglected front lawn, a broken porch light glowing whenever it felt enticed to.
Yet the herbal, earthy and simultaneously fruity scent of bonterra organic cabernet lingers in the air from what feels like a mile away. The artificial sweetness of your 16 euro body spray - notes of sugar and vanilla - create a mismatched harmony that infiltrates Mr. Jeon's home.
His son fell in love with you at the first meeting.
The puppy-like looking little boy had nannies on trial and error before - highly paid, recommended ones, the kind that have a linkedin, like all the other rich bastards in Jungkook’s circle have. While the first two's soft approach got the occasional giggle out of Jukyung, the following three, stricter ones, failed to do anything but make him cry and refuse to eat the meals they had spent so much time preparing. All of it seemed to make no sense since - he is by no means a difficult child to charm, proving equal habits by the time you came around. Hiding behind his dad’s leg and clinging his tiny hands to the cashmere pant, eyes wide and already glossy from glancing up at the fresh face in front of him.
Maybe that's why Jukyung came to adore you so quickly. Sweet faced and unmistakably younger than any of the other women his dad hired. Old enough to be old in his eyes - but young enough to know the shows he watches, recognize marvel superheroes and play the songs currently on the radio - when he repeats them with a jumbled melody and made up, Incoherent lyrics.
“He's a bit shy” Jungkook sighs, muttering as his fingers skim down the kid's tiny shoulders soothingly. You reply with a small hum, offering an inviting smile to him as you talk,
"That's okay. I'm sure we will get along. I'm – , nice to meet you Jukyung.”
He blinks slowly, the big doe eyes that match his dad's shine with childish excitement Jungkook lost somewhere along the way of becoming a man.
“Namjoon said you're good with brats like him” Jungkook continues, a curious glint in his serious gaze, his friend's judgement remaining under scrutiny.
“Mr. Kim?”
He nods, “He suggested you to me”. While adjusting his tie, he spares a quick look at the golden watch on his wrist.
“I hope you get along. Don’t hesitate to call me if there is an emergency.”
Jukyung pouts as he looks up to his dad, his iron man shirt bunched up in angry little grips of his hands. You stay quiet, listening to the serious tone in Jungkook's voice fade out into a parental gentleness, wiping the look off his son's face as he crouches down, giving him a kiss to the forehead and a reassuring pat on the head. “Appa is gonna be home in a couple hours. Be nice, okay?”
“Okay” he grumbles in return, almost managing to sound annoyed - if it wasn't for him nodding enthusiastically. The determination of his dad is wearing off on him even at this age.
Overall, the resemblance is striking, which is definitely why your eyes keep scanning over Jungkook's form. Noticing his full, pierced bottom lip, the slenderness of his fingers, the sharp contours of his jaw and round tip of his nose that looks exactly like his sons.
Jungkook also thinks his son is just like him.
The panorama window sits high above the rest of the city, his desk overlooks people scrambling for a taxi, kids leaving their school's building with a backpack that's almost bigger than their own body. The corner of his office desk is decorated with a frame holding a picture of his son on his third birthday, smiling at him. The assistant left long ago, the humming of the radio turned off with her departure, Jungkook always works in silence when he is in solitude. His mind was filled with enough noise.
Vibrations drumming against his desk snap him out of the deep focus read he was loosing himself in, his eyes feel dry from the screen's blue light that glowed continuously - picking up his buzzing phone, trading for a smaller blue light to stare at him.
A picture of Jukyung takes up his screen, a large wooden spoon clutched in his hand, his feet anchored to the stepper in order to reach their stovetop. From the caption, it reveals the orange hued, vegetable filled pan to be a coconut curry that his son has, supposedly, made all on his own.
He huffs in the memory of Jukyung attempting to help him with pajeon when it had rained two days ago - knowing from extensive experience that his five year old may be a talented boy, but certainly no chef.
The screen turns dark again, leaving a read notification on your end. Streetlights down the line start turning on their yellow glares, the sun’s glow replaced as it bids goodbye slowly, notifying him that it is time to go home soon.
“Appa!”
“You’re not sleeping yet?” he tuts, loosening his tie and pulling off his suit jacket that survived another day. Jukyung shakes his head, a mischievous look proudly displayed on his face.
“You should have put him to sleep” Jungkook says, looking over at the neatly cleaned kitchen. From his distance, he can make out a covered pan still filled with a generous portion of food.
“He has a set bedtime” he continues, brushing past you as you walk to the front door, picking up your shoes.
Up until now, you assumed to have done a good job with his son. He was quick to talk to you, engage - reluctantly - with your suggestions, his shy and guarded posture loosening into clumsy movements as time went by.
“Right, i’m sorry, i guess i forgot about it”
Your reply is timid, shoulders raised against your knowledge, voice lowering into a smaller, flowery tone. The coconut curry’s aromas fly their way from the kitchen into the rest of the house, lingering in the air like an apology.
“Next time then”
Next time - Jungkook wants you to come back for a next time. Satisfaction runs through you quietly, Jukyung’s sleepy face looking up at you as he waves goodbye,
“Yes, see you next time” you say, waving back at the two politely.
It’s even quieter in his home than it is in his office once his son has fallen asleep. There’s no loud clock ticking on a wall, no background of employees talking in the hallways or printers working.
But there is a warm, home cooked dinner, sitting on his stove for him to eat.
Upon lifting the pan’s cover, the scent gets stronger, delicious spice and freshness rise with the steam of the dish. Jungkook doesn’t recall the last time he came home to the warmth of someone else’s cooking. Since Jukyung was born, there might have been a day - once or twice - where someone was watching him and there was food left over for him to eat. A day or two, where he didn’t need to carry his tired hands to rummage through his cabinets after vast hours of working. It was always cold, he knows that for a fact.
It wasn’t the comfort of a hot meal, the embrace of a taste that was seasoned with care - the picture of Kyung stirring the curry flashes in his mind as he scoops another spoonful into his mouth. He groans, aware of the inevitable look of anger crossing his expression. Jukyung pointed it out to him a couple months ago, how he always looks mad when he likes the taste of something he’s eating.
The static rush of water running is the loudest one in his house as he rinses off the empty plate, even with the pressure turned up to it’s fullest - with the water splashing over the rim, wettening his underarm, the rhythmic beating of his heart sounds loudly within his ears.
It’s the last sound he hears before he goes to sleep, the last thing he feels when his eyes are closed and his body feels warm, even with the AC running in the background.
Mondays always brought giddyness into his home. Jukyung got to pick the movie for the night- which typically ended up being either ponyo or spiderman into the spiderverse. His matching spiderman socks glide against the wooden floor as he sprints towards the front door, where you're sliding into the cotton slippers Jungkook bought for you to wear on your visits.
“You're gonna hurt yourself Kyung” Jungkook calls out, walking up behind him in slower strides.
“Hey Kyungie” you greet while his giggle starts up your own. Freely letting it out, the smile lines craving your skin, the scrunch in your nose blooming. You're reaching to mess up his hair a little, as he peers into the large tote bag hanging from your hand, the coloring book you brought looks very tempting.
“Noona, you have one?” he gushes.
“Of course. Told you I would bring you one didn't I?”
Nodding, he looks at his father who's displaying a lighter version of the same grin he's got on his face.
“What do we say?” Jungkook raises an eyebrow, turning his expression into a playful look of strictness.
“Thank youuu” Jukyung sings, sporting another giggle. He probably never wanted his dad to leave the house this badly, the idea of filling out little bear drawings with you couldn't wait any longer.
"That's right” his dad retorts.
“Give that to me” he continues, grasping the handles of the bag with his hand and pulling it out of yours. He must've noticed how it looked filled to the brim, now setting it on his couch as you pour yourself a glass of water.
“You can leave your things here, no need to carry everything over and make hassle”
You set the glass down, smiling at him awkwardly. “You’ve been saying that for weeks”
“Exactly” he says, buttoning up his coat, “And you keep ignoring it”
“Most of it is my uni stuff, Kyung's been sleeping early lately”
"You're studying that late?” he asks, narrowing his gaze at you. You hum in confirmation, explaining that the exam you're about to write has been driving you crazy. “I just can't get the hang of his writing. You’re not secretly a kant lover, are you?”
Jungkook scoffs, shaking his head abruptly. Philosophy has never been his thing and probably will never be. His life lessons wouldn't have been avoided by knowing what some old man thought a thousand years ago, his business would not have grown to be any bigger either.
"Unfortunately not. My advice is to keep reading. You'll get it eventually”
“Stellar, Mr. Jeon” you say, watching him shut his eyes in response. Juykung's laugh sounds faintly in the back of the open living room, busying himself with the crayons he snuck out of your bag.
"There's money on the counter for food, I didn't have time to go grocery shopping”
You look over to the couch as you speak, purposefully raising your voice to get the kid’s attention.
“That’s okay. I was thinking of making pizza from scratch”
Jukyung's doe eyes widen at your suggestion - snapping towards you for the second time, his excitement spills over into the room, flooding it with infectious, childish happiness.
“Pizza, I love pizza. Appa never makes it”
You gasp loudly at the perfectly reasonable revelation, shaking your head at Jungkook with faux disappointment.
“Really? That's no good”
Jungkook, a bit caught off guard at his son's cheekiness though it should come to no surprise, crosses his arms over his chest as he defends himself with the excuses of that being untrue, that if Jukyung ate his vegetables, maybe he'd consider pizza more often.
Their back and forth grants a glimpse into the home the way nothing material ever could. His son's expensive backpack and cheap pokemon bodywash don't account for the late nights that he lets him crawl into his spacious bed, strokes his head and mumbles made up stories to get Jukyung to fall back asleep. Domestic bickerings of father and son that are too alike and yet, couldn't be more different.
Jungkook's face never looks more handsome than it does when he's with his kid, his smile only reaches his eyes in moments like this. It's a sight you felt privileged to, a sight you, admittedly, called back into your thoughts often.
“Noona always gets to be the nice one, isn't that a bit harsh on me?”
“No, no you aaare is nice too. But noona is so nice. Just like you said noona is...” he trails off, pursing his lips and really straining his thoughts. He's thinking hard, and the adults have to hold back a laugh at the deep frown in his brows, the angry purse of his lips. At least before you understand that he's trying to recall something Jungkook had said about you.
“That's enough” he cuts in, reaching his hand down to high five his son,
“Don't cause trouble”
The front door creaks open, turning back with a composed expression, he nods at you, stepping out of the house without another goodbye to spare.
The sun is high up in the sky even in the afternoon. Rays of light reflect on the metal slide tucked into the back of the playground, scorching and unusable on days like these. From the bench you're sitting on, next to moms spreading the newest affair stories coursing through the neighbourhood, Jukyung is in perfect view. Running around in the knee long denim shorts he begged you to let him wear - they look just like ones his dad has on when he's not in a suit, he said. Watching his short legs scramble around among the equally tiny ones of his two friends, you could make out that they must be playing catch - or something akin to it. His giggles are loud and his friends laughter bright, it felt impossible not to smile at the combined sound of it.
Jungkook spots you as he rounds the corner, his shortsleeved button down shirt and black jeans sticking out sorely in a crowd of floral dresses and lightly colored Tshirts. The low call of your name gets you to notice him taking a seat on the bench as well.
“Mr. Jeon, you're early”
“My meeting was cut short” he replies, facing the playground in search of his kid. You can tell the moment he spots Jukyung, the frown in his brows evening out, his upper back now rests against the bench in relaxation.
“Has he been good?”
“Of course. He's really energetic today” you chuckle, meeting his eyes that have shifted over to you. He huffs out a short laugh, “Yeah, Kyung loves this weather” he adds, seeing a strand of your hair swaying past your face in the breeze. You tuck it back in place, holding a hand up to see past the blaring sun.
Your words about the new show Jukyung started watching turn into background buzz for him as Jungkook's gaze wanders off to the side, trailing after a mother holding hands with her son as they make their way out. Heesung, the little boy and Soojin, his mother, live a block down from him. Kindergarden has caused their worlds to collide in more than one way - Jukyung frequents their home, Heesung and him play football in their yard - while Soojin sometimes laughs a tad too loudly at Jungkook's sarcastic remarks and accidentally goes to pick up her son in a shirt that might've been washed too hot. Watching her now, his expression doesn't change, his frown never returns as though there is nothing present to bother him. Maybe there wasn't, maybe he had five years to get used to being a single father, to this inner feeling of somehow taking something away from his son.
He pushes it back down, letting his thoughts run back to routine - when his next meeting starts tomorrow, what he'd be cooking for dinner later.
“Sounds like something he'd like” he states, unsure if that's even the case. “How was your exam?”
“Oh, it went well, I think. I'm just glad it's over now” you reply, sighing with the relief of long studies that have come to an end. The glimmer of initial surprise doesn't go unnoticed, he himself is a bit stunned he managed to remember anything outside of his own schedule.
“I was always stressed in uni. I'm sure you did a good job” he says, seeing the exhaustion behind the coralish blush and the concealer you wear daily.
You try not to visibly melt at the validation, it was like he could pick out on your underlying insecurity, your silent need for something as simple as reassurance - someone to tell you that you did well, as embarrassing as that is.
“It is stressful. I have a paper due next week and I haven't had time to start it”
Jungkook hums, "Shouldn't have come today. You never cancel” he mutters almost disapprovingly, the image Jukyung swinging next to his friend reflects in his eyes.
“I wanted to see Kyungie. Promised him we'd be going to the playground”
A subtle, sunny smile takes its place on your lips when it’s your turn to face the swings - just as he's pulled to look at you again, because as time went on, it's been becoming increasingly, infuriatingly difficult to stop himself from doing so. Reluctantly, he allows his focus to remain on the sheer softness he can make out by looking at your lips, the fondness painting your face in peace. Something compels him to mumble that you're too nice to his son, wishing for you to overhear. He knows you do hear him once that gentle smile turns into an actual chuckle again and suddenly, he is almost grateful that you did.
Jungkook also knows what classes you have on the days you watch Juykung, he knows that the dress you’re wearing is your favourite because his son said it makes you look like a pretty princess - and he knows that he tried his hardest to pretend that he does not know any of those things. Just like he ignores how you remembered to ask him about the marketing deal that'd been stressing him out lately and how you noticed that he fixed the porch light after months of putting it off.
“Seriously, how long was that thing flickering for, it would drive me crazy”
Jungkook snarls briefly, the way he does when his son is being a bit of a brat, before searching for the answer to your question in the back of his mind.
“I don't remember a time it ever worked. When Hyejin and i first moved in it was already like that”
Hyejin.
It wasn't like you'd never thought to ask. Never sat in their home looking for evidence of another parent - pictures where she'd be seen moving in the background or posing with him. The absence of a mother was impossibly evident, regardless, never making the home feel incomplete. Jukyung never asked complicated questions about his mother, never had a complaint about her working too much, like appa does, or why all the other kids had one to come home to. But there had to be one, gathering from that one time he asked you if your mother and you are still friends, he knows he has one too.
The first ten seconds after he says her name are silent, it's always like that when he does mention her to anyone, like a curse you weren't supposed to say out loud.
“She's..?”
“His mother” he finishes, the uncomfortably familiar tightening in his throat fails to climb all the way up to shake his stable reply, practice over the duration of five years does that to someone.
“I see. I've never heard you talk about her” you say awkwardly, only noticing how that sounded once the sentence is spoken, you open your mouth to stumble over words that tell him “It’s not like you have to, i just meant-”
"No need to get scared” he says, the rough laugh that follows makes a flash of heat go through your stomach and an embarrassed flush flood your system. His unshakeable calm and stupid, serene seriousness even whilst laughing - rattled you every single day since meeting him. It makes you nervous by default, to engage with someone that seems to have it all together. So unlike you, so unlike any of the men that you’ve come in contact with in university frats and hallways.
“It’s not like there's much to say, she didn't want to be in his life, so she isn’t”
Occasionally, fragments of life were really that plain. That easily explained, a history of grief, longing, hard work and separation summarized into a bite sized answer that accomplished as much answering as a question like that can be answered. The addition of her leaving Jungkook stranded at 26 with a newborn that, he now has to raise into a functioning human, didn't serve any purpose. The detail that they had just begun renovating the house was useless. Five years later, all that matters is that the world kept spinning, that Jukyung may not have a mother but he does have a father that loves him unconditionally. A father that's happy with the way things are, for the better.
The simple answer sunk in and now, it didn't matter to you either, insignificant how's and why's vanished because of how hollow it felt to look into a story that ended in a content little boy.
“I don't think he needs more than his dad. You're doing amazing at giving him what he needs to be happy”
Jungkook’s throat tightens again, unfamiliar this time, fondly, like he wants to bathe in the compassion of that sentence and remind you - that Juykung needs you too.
“Thank you” is what he settles for, allowing enough space for quiet appreciation to sit down between you.
It doesn't stretch on much longer, interrupted by the high pitched crying ringing through the otherwise tranquilly chaotic playground. Crying that sounds too much like Jukyung. You're on your feet before he registers; it is indeed his child that's sitting on his newly scarped knees, sobbing tears that tumble down his chubby cheeks in a stream.
“Shh, it's okay Kyungie, come here.. Let noona see..” you mumble into his black messy hair, the wetness on his face seeps into your shirt as he molds himself into your chest. You're crouching form has Jungkook standing uselessly to your right, looking down at your hand that soothes his kid's back, the comfort of your embrace sparks Jukyung to sniffle in order to catch his breath and explain that he fell, only for his voice to break at the end.
You place a kiss on his temple, picking him up to sit on your underarm while inspecting his minimal wound with worried eyes that look suspiciously glossy. Jungkook's whispering gruff “It’s okay" 's, the unease in his own body diffusing when Juykung naturally reaches for your embrace, seeks your soft words with tiny hiccups. Softening even further, as his miniature fingers brush a salty tear from your own cheek.
Jukyung pouts, telling you not to be sad, that he's a big boy. He knew he’d be safe when you came walking, knew you’d be there to hold him when he was hurt and Jungkook now knew - that his son's trust in you is the biggest blessing a curse could possibly bring. Butterflies that he thought lost their wings half a decade ago begin to fly through his stomach briskly, the tingle so juvenile and youthful it feels almost wrong to pay attention to.
“You need to be more careful buddy” he grumbles, hugging the small boy to his chest as you´re passing him over, listening to his sobs subside slowly.
“Do you wanna eat ice cream before we go home?”
Jukyung's mood brightens in a bat of his long eyelashes, the glossy doe eyes staring into his dad's demandingly and he knew no better than to give in. “I want choco ice cream" he nods enthusiastically, forgetting all about his scraped knee at the thought of tasting chocolate that melts into his mouth.
“Would you like one too?”
“Yes, yes noona take one! You like strawberry” Jukyung says proudly, stealing the polite no off your lips, declining the idea of you missing out on something as amazing as ice cream. Jungkook looks at you to confirm,
“You're right, I do like strawberry” you say to Jukyung, though you're looking at his dad, who is already pulling out cash from his wallet, whilst his son is beaming about being able to recall the flavour you favor most.
“Thank you Mr. Jeon” you tell him after he's done ordering for the three of you. He's about to open his mouth to tell you that it's really nothing, but Jukyung butts in.
“Jungkook”
Both of you share a look of confusion, tilting your head at the little boy apparently does the trick, he repeats his father's name - this time elaborating simply,
"Appa's name is Jungkook”
Jungkook's puzzle pieces fall into place before yours do, huffing at the innocent ease of his words, the weight behind them invisible and unimportant in the mind of a five year old. Jukyung takes the icecream into his greedy little hands as soon as it's in reach, licking away at it like there was a timer running - the pain of his previous injury long left in the dust.
“You're right Kyung” he enforces after a split second of bravery in his weakness, handing over your own portion and hoping - that you'd understand the message he's trying to send.
Normally, you’d refuse. Immediately result in professional smiles and head shakes, saying that there is no need to skip formalities. It might have been the intensity of his brown eyes as he established what he wanted, how there was never an offer as much as there was a demand. Doomed to the beauty of his name and the honey as he said it, there remained no bone in your body that craved to deny him. Your throat itches to say his name, let it roll off your tongue delightfully, let the sound hang in the thick summer air.
“Jungkook” you repeat, satisfied at hearing yourself say it. The wall tore down loudly, echoing a minimized space between you two. Realistically, it was nothing more than his first name - but also, nothing less than being called by his first name.
“Getting used to that will take time”
"Don't stress out” he exhales heavily, facing his kid that's succeeded in smothering his mouth in chocolate ice cream.
“Noona, can you not stay for longer? pleeeease?”
“Jukyung, let noona go home, she's been entertaining you all day” Jungkook chimes in, picking up his whiny kid by his armpits, the stretched word please becoming background noise as he groans, settling him against his broad chest.
“Enough, it's late and you're sleepy, say bye to noona” he says, a slightly worn out edge to his tone. Jukyung pouts as he waves in your direction, watching you zip up your jacket with glassy puppy eyes.
“Bye bye noona” he mumbles dramatically, making a kissy face afterwards. With your fingers scratching at his head that rests on Jungkook, you tell them, “Goodnight, sleep well”
Jungkook's tiling his head down involuntarily - closer, focusing his unguarded gaze on the genuine smile on your face, the tenderness in your words as you speak to his baby. His heart thumps stupidly loud when Jukyung giggles at your touch and he hates how submissive he feels to all of it. To the ridiculous image of extending the hold to include you, attach his lips to your head because it'd be so easy to just lean down and -
"Mr. Jeon?”
“Yes”
Sharp. Maybe too sharp - too forced against the silent, pillowy warmth that bubbled up inside him moments ago. He notes your startled blink, the sweet innocence of those pretty eyes that don't understand what it does to him when you stare up like that. He doesn't correct you, respects the much needed, accidental distance in the usage of his last name.
“I uhm, just wanted to say goodbye”
“Yeah” he grumbles, roughly wiping a hand down his tired face, his other holding on to the squirmy child, “Goodnight”
The door shuts, Jukyung is rubbing his eyes sleepily and it's just them now. He's just Appa now, and you're on the bus - on the way back to the university dorm you live in. At times that felt like a united world broke its illusion. You were, whether you yourself knew or remained painstakingly unaware, in utterly incompatible worlds. That is his mantra, his voice of reason anytime he starts drifting into thoughts that notice how much your dynamic creates a harmonious balance despite it all. Despite him being nearly a decade older, a single dad, a rich business man.
Because as much as he feels sick being stripped down like this, naked in the shower - exposed to his bare thoughts - in your eyes, all he truly ever was, is Jukyung's dad. Just Appa - just Mr. Jeon, Jungkook. He desires nothing more than to solely be Jungkook, that's who stares back at him with every glance in the fogged up mirror. But he isn't, or more so, he cannot be. Not when you have too much ahead of yourself, the youth of nine years he'd lived through already- and deserve so much better than a thirty-two year old single father that fists his cock to the remembrance of his first name on your lips, in that sweet, girlish voice.
He groans your name quietly - like the sound hurts and scratches its way up his throat because it feels wrong, so wrong how naturally it seeks to slip out no matter how much he forbids himself to voice it. Slow drags of his hand over his aching cock transform into hasty strokes that crave a smaller, softer hand to tip him over. The blurry picture of you earlier, in that pretty dress that hit just below your knee, the fabric denting at the curve of your waist just enough to make out the dips and curves - felt sinfully beautiful in his mind's eye. It would've felt much more satisfying to spill into a hand that has polka dotted gel nails, watch his milky arousal drip from those feminine fingers instead of his tattooed digits. He wouldn't be washing it away shortly after, there would be no shameful cloud to loom over his head as he shampoos it.
“Would you like to stay for dinner?”
“Sorry,” you hush, gathering up the limp child in your arms. His head lolls back, pouty lips parted in a relaxed snore. Jungkook’s fingers brush yours when he takes his sleeping kid into his arms, bicep straining against the black button down, “I tried to keep him awake. The playground really did a number on him”
"Not surprised” he says, stroking some long strands from Jukyung's forehead, “So?”
“Oh, right” you almost forgot he asked you something. It was just so distracting - the subtle ways he would soften when looking at his son, the way his shirt clung to his arms and chest in an intimidating contrast, “Sure, if it's no issue”
“Of course not” he mutters back like the question was an inconvenience, the width of his shoulders coming into view as he steps up the staircase, getting ready to lie Jukyung into his racecar bed.
Jungkook’s long day shows up in his slower movements as he chops up the ingredients, adding that tired rasp to his already sultry voice as he talks.
“You bought it for him”
“What?” his eyes narrow a little, swinging the noodle pan with an easy wrist,
“The bed he's been rambling about” you answer, standing just shy of brushing against his frame when attempting to pull out two plates from the top cabinet. Your stance proves unstable, fingertips reaching for lengths out of reach even on the balls of your slippers,
“Yeah. He wouldn't let it go” Jungkook says with a short exhale, his fingers reach beyond yours, pulling out the two plates with a clank that's too loud in the sudden silence. His chest brushes against your shoulders with the slight lean, the ghost of his contact haunts your skin with shivers, no matter how brief it had been.
“Here” he says, his gaze dropping to meet yours, already looking up at his face that seemed too close - even though there is a respectable distance, you could clearly see the mole under his bottom lip, the silver ring in the corner that glistened in the fluorescent kitchen light. The action remains uncommented but you swear you see his eyes dart to your parted lips for an unusually long second- just as he returns his attention back to the curry pasta, leaving you to set the plates down like nothing had happened, because nothing did happen.
The unforeseen pulse between your thighs would beg to disagree. Embarrassingly it blooms, causing you to press your legs together secretly - hidden under the dark wood table just as he sits down next to your tense figure. Not across, not facing you with the length of his table separating you. On the chair next to yours, body angled in to fill up your empty plate with a delicious smelling dinner. The action is careful, caring in a way that only worsens the ache with its underlying dominance, with the gruff mumble of him telling - or rather, ordering you to start eating. You wait for his plate to be full before you do, and with the first bite always comes that satisfied, low moan. Jungkook knew it was coming, he'd first lost his mind when you got icecream together and braced for its arrival ever since. Your reactivity had him fantasize about how stupidly easy it is to make you moan, how he would probably be able to make you cry if he just kissed you for long enough, deeply enough.
“You should eat too” you mumble, covering your mouth. He's staring, he just now realises.
“Is it good?” Jungkook questions, taking a first bite himself - the flavours spark on his tongue in the familiar comfort of a dish he has cooked a dozen times over.
“Soo good” you hum, nodding your head as if to support the statement while chewing. He hums too, beginning to feel the heat rise up his neck and it steals his ability to speak momentarily.
“Yeah?” he huffs, a swipe of his tongue over his lips accommodate the strangely sultry intonation that's laced itself into the conversation,
“You like it?”
The way he asks feels loaded. You do like it. Both of you know you do. The simple answer is yes, the complicated one is the softer sounding yes you give him;
eyeing his lips, voice quieting to mirror the weight of his own gaze.
“I'm glad. It's nothing elaborate” he mutters, spinning his fork slowly with a stern glare into the plate. He was getting distracted.
“I saw normal people by sally rooney in your bag” Jungkook states, remembering how the cover caught his attention. He read that book a while back, turning the pages about stories of, well, normal people. Relationships, lives. From the handful of books he read, he wouldn't shy away from crowning this one as his favourite. Something so ordinary and complicatedly mundane felt like second nature. You, on the other hand, take another bite as you gather your thoughts.
“Terrible book. Don't read it, it's a waste of time”
“What?” he fires back, a sharp huff of air leaving him.
“What? It's so boring, basically nothing happens in it” irritation laces quietly into your words, watching him get increasingly more irritated in return. He sets his fork down, a tinge of sarcasm accompanying him, “Right, nothing in 300 pages”
“Yes” you say, barely smiling while gesturing his way, “Now you get it”
Jungkook shakes his head, grumbling that, “You have terrible taste”
“Because I don’t wanna read about someone’s daily life?”
“Because you think that slice of life is boring. It's social commentary” he says, his voice getting a tad louder with his increased annoyance and it hits him then, that he's getting way too worked up over this. He can’t help it, the feeling of being misunderstood prickles underneath his skin. Instead of going on a tangent about the lessons in life and the beauty of normalcy in a society where there’s so many expectations thrust on you, he resumes eating.
“If I wanted philosophic takes I’d read my classes notes”
“Maybe you should”
“Sorry?” you say, more mockingly than seriously offended. Jungkook, looking back up at you with his signature, neutral expression tells you; “Apology accepted” before breaking out into what can only be described as an indefinite smirk.
“Once you get older, you’ll understand wanting to know about lives like your own” he retaliates, eating another mouthful of pasta to let the statement settle first.
“I’m not saying it’s not understandable, i’m saying i think it’s boring”
Your explanation doesn’t pull an answer from him, pushing you to start talking again. “I like when a book takes me places that.. aren’t realistic”
“Most people do”
“Yeah, i guess”
You’re looking at him from the lens of someone that has lived an equally as normal life - maybe even more so, without a child to take care of on your own, without the headstart of abundant money, the responsibility of a business on your shoulders.
“But I guess it’s nice to read something boring once in a while. Makes you feel less boring yourself”
"Recommend me one. Maybe it can change my mind” you add after a moment of consideration, the olive branch fragile and swaying as you wait for him to take it.
“Intermezzo. Also by sally rooney.”
“Are you a fan?” you joke, raising an eyebrow at him. He tuts, his shoulders shaking slightly with a gentle, low laugh spilling from his lips. Ease takes over your body, a smile openly shines on your own lips now, the thought of wanting to hear his laugh again makes you feel impatient.
Impatient to listen to more of his opinions, unwrap the tangled ropes that tie together his thoughts.
Perhaps too impatient, too uncoordinated as you brush the fork past your lips.
"There's something” he begins, inching closer with intent. His hand reaches to your face, thumb swiping at the corner of your lips with added pressure as he mumbles the remainder of his sentence, “... on your face”
He’s unable to stop looking, unable to pretend he does not see your eyes widening, your breath catching in your throat. The tiny sound of surprise has him holding down a deep moan. He doesn't let his finger linger afterwards, his thumb is gone from your skin as fast and unexpectedly as it had landed there in the first place. However, you would be able to feel it tingle there for hours later. Even days.
Like on this quiet friday evening, standing in your cozy bathroom, looking into the mirror as you tie your hair back, remove your hoops - wash off the make up that’s been marinating on your face for longer than it should have. You scrub, closing your eyes, the warm water feels like a hug on your stripped skin. In the black behind your eyelids, the touch on your face feels lively - and you can almost hear his voice too, telling you to read the book that’s now sitting on your nightstand, halfway into a story of grief, love, family.
A story about a part of life everyone will be confronted with. An ending no one can escape witnessing and falling victim to. Nature taking its breath back, people losing each other and gaining vital epiphanies, long winded stories that end in questions and answers. Reflection, a window into your own life and it's fragile evanescence. Death isn’t the only grief a person can experience. Losing someone - something, the effects of that run through your veins because of absence. Learning to fill the hole - whether by stitching it up or embedding its presence into routine, isn’t a task exclusive to the aftermaths of a death.
The text message notification dings, transferring you out of the story that’s been playing out on the laid out pages.
“Can you watch Kyungie today? It'd be from 7pm to around 9:30pm.”
With a glance to the time on top of your screen, you close up the book, letting him know that, yes - you’d be there soon.
When you arrive after taking the usual route, nothing is particularly unusual, though something is different. Impossible - to - ignore - kind of different. He stands in front of the hallway mirror for much longer than normal, adjusting his tie for what seems like the seventh time in five minutes. And when he walks past to slip into his jimmy choo's, the air reeks thickly of bleu de chanel.
Manly, fresh, deliberate.
“What’s the occasion ? You never make me watch him on weekends”
“It was a bit spontaneous. I’ll pay you extra for the short notice - and I’ll text you if it gets later.”
You nod in agreement, give him another questioning look he fails to acknowledge as your heartbeat continues to speed up, the clingy awareness of insecurity providing its steady beat. He swings his coat over his shoulders, slipping into it carefully. The gust of wind that passes when he closes the front door behind him is cool, uncovering how suffocating the air in your lungs is. Suddenly, you knew what this was. Why it might get later than anticipated, later than how things usually are.
Jungkook is going on a date.
It doesn’t matter, does it?
That you’ve never seen his hair styled like this and you're already mentally scrolling through restaurants he might be taking her to, silently wondering If he kisses on the first date,
If he tastes like nicotine and sugary maturity.
It matters when the strong feeling of disappointment rushes to your chest and your mind wraps itself around the concept of Jungkook looking to date. The quiet intimacy from your perspective now staring back at you like a huge misunderstanding. It didn't vanish - if anything, the plunging feeling only grew with his son that is already tugging on the sleeve of your oversized sweater, babbling about wanting to watch ponyo and do puzzles. Activities with his noona, the babysitter that watches Jungkook’s son.
Jungkook's son, who’s so completely in love with you, who you've sung to sleep with Jungkook admiring quietly, leaning against the doorframe - hoping you didn't spot his shadow. Jungkook who'd heard you tell Jukyung your favourite fruit and somehow, always ended up buying tangerines at the end of the week after that
“Noona actually brought you a new puzzle”
His smile widens into an innocent giggle, wrapping his little grubby hands around your arm and you can not be asked not to chuckle in return, letting him walk you to the couch. “Did you eat dinner Kyungie?”
“I’m starving” she chuckles, "Haven't eaten in hours”
Boring, god the woman in front of Jungkook is so incredibly boring to him.
Soojin's pretty, with long brown hair and a low cut shirt, a gentle voice and a nice smile. The faint touches of her hand on his arm when she laughed at something he had said - or the way her eyes darted to his lip ring - didn’t reel him in. Not like it did with you, where he felt the pull of wanting to kiss that needy look off your face. Everything she said, about her yoga studio and the way she liked going golfing, was so boring to Jungkook. He wondered, at some point of watching her sip the wine he ordered, if you had already put Jukyung to bed, if your hair is pulled into a messy pony yet and if you knew what he was doing right now.
Something about it made him feel almost guilty. He'd avoided saying it on purpose, why you're watching over his son today and yet, when he glanced back at you through the window, It was obvious you had caught on. Obviously, whatever you were feeling about the realization, you did not look happy for him. In a twisted way, it made him happy, even if for a mere moment.
Dinner tastes good, steak always does the trick - wine always relaxes him. Unable to indulge in it to the full extent, he had to drive - but getting wine drunk has never sounded more appealing. Especially after the fifth failed attempt of intellectual conversation. Words were not getting him anywhere but deeper in thought, nowhere and yet, parked in front of her apartment, with a slightly frustrated frown in his eyebrows - his lips kept colliding with hers anyways, allowing her warm tongue to lip past and explore his mouth. His eyes shut tightly in an effort not to sink into this burdening feeling, the low groan that he lets out sounds more frustrated than blissful. Frustrated with himself, with the fact that Soojin's hands on his shirt buttons fail to faze him, that he doesn't move his hands up and down her body to map out the curves she has - but simply anchors them to her hips. He was holding on to the denim like the image of you, despite wanting nothing more than to let go of both at that very moment.
“I should get going” she mumbled breathlessly, the desperation in her airy voice sounded like she imagined him to refuse, to keep her in his car and mess up the make up she'd spend so much time putting on, let her undo the very last buttons of his shirt too. So when he hums and agrees, saying that it is getting late and they both do have a child at home after all, her slick smile turns almost polite. Straightening out her hair with her fingers, she stepped out without meeting his gaze once more.
Jungkook exhales heavily after the Mercedes door slams, running a sweaty hand down his handsome scowl and begins driving home, to his son, to you.
The rattling of his keys don’t wake you from the slumber you’d fallen into about halfway into the second round of ponyo playing on the flatscreen. It laughs at Jungkook, mocking the storm that was already rampaging his thoughts. You looked like a domestic wet dream; Jukyung's sleeping from with his head laid on your chest that is rising and falling, comfortably matching the rhythm of his son's slowed breathing. With unspoken awe, he notices how his son holds on to your shoulder loosely, how your soft hand looks big on the little boy's back and your eyelashes fan so prettily against your rosy cheeks. Noting the absence of a blanket, he’s already halfway into laying one over the both of you, ignoring the sheer fact that, realistically, he would need to wake you and you should be making your way back home.
“Jungkook?”
The dazed mumble of his name halts him in his tracks, widened blanket hanging in his hands without a purpose. He lets you wake up, waits until the fog of sleep disappears from your eyes to continue talking. The taste of his date's lips haunts his mouth in a bitter aftertaste now, seeing how your first instinct was to pull Juykung closer to your body, perching him upright as you sit yourself up.
“Shit I must've fallen asleep. Did you just get back?”
“Yeah, about a minute ago” he answers, folding the blanket back up, “Did he make you watch that fish movie again?” he mumbles, nodding towards the tv.
You nod too, groaning softly while tucking the sleeping child into the corner of the couch, coming to yourself from the nap. “Probably why we fell asleep, seen it about a hundred times now.” A beat of silence passes, your voice turns painfully careful,
“ How.. was it?”
Jungkook stills, the air between you both growing thick. A tense glance is exchanged as he steps forward an inch, his fully dressed-up form standing right in front of where you are sitting on his couch with a softness he isn't familiar with. He tried to clear himself of his actions - weak attempts in forgetting about you, buttoned his shirt back up and reapplied his perfume to overpower her stench. He was aware it was to no use, not when you could see his well gelled hair now beginning to fall loose, how a trace of red was smeared slightly around his lips and the pristinely ironed shirt looked just a tad messed up. He clears his throat, answering the question you never wanted to ask in the first place.
“Okay, I think”
“Okay?” you echo, the curious undertone smells like a hope you didn't dare to have. Misplaced, possibly unwelcomed.
He sighs, a quick shake of his head following,
“Nothing special. "Didn’t feel it.”
It was short, direct. An answer that was true to his nature and another relief to yours.
“Not your type?”
“No, not my type” he says, his body slumping down on the couch next to yours with a hand reaching to caress Juykung’s back - his head tips back against the couch with a delicious stretch of his neck. No purple bruises, no wet patches of skin decorating the road down to his shoulder. The darkness of the living room provides you with a slight comfort, swallowing details of your feelings, like the slight shake in your fingers when you too - lean back against the couch, head tilted enough to face him. He looks at you for that brief lapse of time, vulnerable wordlessness settles down, taking up the remaining inches between your faces. Raw and hidden all at once, the absence of light strikes Jungkook to be honest with not only himself, but you.
“It just felt unnatural. I didn't really.. want to be there”
He murmurs, his eyelids feeling heavy with drowsiness, “Wanted to go home”
“Sounds boring. We had fun here, you really missed out” you mumble back with withheld amusement, feeling the effects of this moment take a toll on you. It’s easier to tease him when you feel unseen, there is less resistance to the pull that always wants to tug you together adjacently.
The hum he lets out sounds from deep within his throat, almost rumbling through his deep, quiet words.
“Like I said, I wanted to be home”
Home, didn't just mean at his house, inside his walls without anyone to bother him but his kid. Home meant being somewhere you were, somewhere he had his son in reach, somewhere he knew he belonged. There was no use in explaining his favourite book to a woman that wasn't interested in the workings of his mind, no use when you'd read the same book and - hated it, listened to him bitching about you not getting the point but nonetheless, ended up reading another one of those just because he saw value in it.
When you breathed a part back into his lungs that was devoid of air, that now longs for warm meals after a long work day, the sight of a woman sleeping with his kid in her arms, a soft laugh he helped elicit.
Utterly, devastatingly terrifying.
“I felt like that with my ex boyfriend. Like I had to be what.. he wanted me to be” you say after a deeper inhale, the breath filling your tight chest with courage. You learned not to cry because he would get annoyed, mastered to dim your light for comfort, but it's plastered all over your face, how much allow yourself to show when you feel like it's just Jungkook that's watching.
“Unnatural, if that's what you meant”
“I did” he clarifies, “How long were you together for?”
“Not too long, I broke up with him after six months” you explain, reminded of the day you chose yourself. It must be laughable in his eyes, you think. Six months was nothing compared to his break up. Instead, he sympathetically quiets his words, mist of late hours making them feel too loud anyway.
“I’m sorry to hear that”
"Don't be” you shake your head, "It's better that way. I don't want to pretend”
“Neither do I” he admits, running his fingers through his hair, the previously formal style now messily sitting on his head with wear. He looks comfortable.
“Was.. this your first date after Hyejin?”
The question is a leap, a gap you didn't know you had permission to breach. As the question leaves your lips, the dark gives away how he doesn´t seem fazed or surprised, he just presses his lips together, nodding “Yeah. Had a baby to raise”
“Do you feel ready now?”
Jungkook cocks his head, his body instinctively turning towards you. The invisible string of rough, vague want and deep, intricate need for connection pulls tighter.
“Ready?” he hums, a moment of debating his answer goes by “Ready isn't a feeling. You decide ready”
Control is a possession he kept dearest to him. Decide how people look at you. Decide what they know. Decide when you're ready, no matter how much his heart rebels against it with its violent beat, no matter how much his hands long for a counterpart to lace his finger through and squeeze when things get overwhelming.
“You shouldn't pretend. There's nothing you have to hide”
You mutter, turning to your side as well. Whilst looking at him with the slit of separation that presented as a large wall, there still wasn't anything he could hide under. You'd seen him, even with his suit on and his back turned, you were always able to see Jungkook.
Midnight struck on his rolex like lightning, the string that's been pulling at your heads and hearts snaps underneath the tension of him deciding - that he isn't ready yet.
“You should go home, you'll be exhausted for your 8:00 am class”
He rises to his feet, cracks in his surface blend back together as the newfound space creates enough room to stop breathing in each other's exhales, swallow each other's words.
A sinking feeling comes up back as you do from the suede couch, the distance is notable, your smile adjusts into one he knows is restrained and it makes him feel like an asshole. He doesn't fight it, tells you to be safe after you open his front door, stepping outside of the isolated world they created.
The candle, a big, blue and sparkling six, is lit with its swaying flame moving in the wind passing through the Jeon’s kitchen window. Jukyung leans forward, his lips pursed as he blows out the candle with his birthday wish rooted deep in his mind, letting the smoke from the extinguished flame carry it out into the world.
“Did you wish for something good buddy?” His dad asks, wiping off the chocolate icing sticking to the bottom of the candle.
“Of course I did” he smiles proudly, the shimmer of childhood bright and alive as another year of life is ahead for him. His eyes widen in amazement the second the knife slides into his belgian chocolate mousse cake,
“What did you wish for?”
“That’s a secret, silly” Jukyung nods enthusiastically, watching as his dad raises a questioning eyebrow, placing a generous slice down on to the plate laying on the table.
“Alright, Alright” Jungkook says, pressing a kiss to his son's ruffled hair. In true Jukyung fashion, the chocolate spreads beyond the corners of his lips and somehow always ends up all over his fingers. But it's his birthday today, so all Jungkook can really do is watch, smile and hold back the current of emotion raving through his pulse.
After dropping Jukyung off at his best friends house, he drives back up the road, spotting someone waiting on his porch.
“What are you doing here?”
“Hey” you start, shuffling the blue paper bag from one hand to another,
“Sorry, i just wanted to drop off a gift for Kyung. Guess I'm a little late” you smile, reading him unlocking the door as a silent invitation for you to follow. Taking off your shoes as always, sliding into your house slippers laying right next to his.
“What did you get him?” Jungkook grabs two glasses from the cupboard, holding up a bottle of lillet. You nod, “A coloring book. The totoro one, i'm tired of ponyo”
Jungkook grins, pouring the both of you a refreshing, full glass. The weather is beautiful today, breezing romantic summer air. His eyes note the pink lipstick stain on his glass after you took a sip, sitting prettily.
“I can't stand that stupid fish” he grumbles, bringing his glass to his lips, concealing the way his smile widens at the sound of your laugh.
“He's growing up fast. He was so much more.. baby like when i started”
“Yeah. He's a little gentleman now” Jungkook rests his forearm on the counter, leaning against it casually by your side.
“He starts preschool soon right?”
He hums, looking into his glass,
"In September"
You hum too, the marble counter reflecting a ray of setting sunlight into the room. Glows of the golden hour soak his honey skin in it's hues, the glint of fresh tears in your eyes is more obvious when colorful.
“Ahh..” you shake your head, smiling to suppress it further, your finger already on the way to catch what's threatening to fall from your eyes, “Sorry, i get emotional so quickly”
Jungkook shifts closer, the natural black strands falling over his forehead - his body folds slightly to adjust to you, he knows this feeling. He recognizes it for what it is, for what it has always been with you around. He's not good at hiding it this time.
There's beauty outside control.
“That's okay. I get it, he's my son” he murmurs, brushing his fingers against yours, resting on the cool surface. You wait for them to disappear, but they never do. His fingers stay on top of yours like a feather light kiss, brown eyes refusing to look away from your face as the sadness disappears into sheer relaxation.
“You do realise that he loves you” Jungkook says, his thumb slowly moving against your hand,
“Do you know what he wished for, when he blew out the candle?”
His body moves forward again, you shake your head no, letting him continue, the words drowned in quiet affection.
“He said it's a secret, but that lasted for maybe 10 minutes”
Another smile blooms on your lips, waters the one growing on Jungkook's as he continues, focused on keeping that devastatingly heartfelt look all over your face.
“He wished for you to keep watching him when he gets older”
Jungkook is mesmerized with the first tear that truly tumbles down the apple of your cheek, a single, short sigh passing through your lips as you do nothing but look at him. Into his eyes, searching for something.
He inches his fingers closer, time feels stretched out into slow motion as his thumb makes contact with the wetness on your cheek, swiping it away carefully. You don't shatter under his touch, encouraging his thumb to wander down your jaw, caress again, until, unwillingly, tilting up the tip of your chin subtly.
He's powerless as he leans down, breathless at the first angelic touch of your lips on his.
Jungkook wants to kiss you until the world fades out.
Your lips attach to his too, slowly at first, testing how good it feels in your whole body every time his quiet sounds slip into your mouth, getting louder once your arms have made their way around his neck. His kisses grow demanding at the closeness, the warmth of your body creeping from your waist into his palms, your sweet moan of satisfaction makes him smile faintly right into the kiss, sliding his tongue against yours to pull another moan from your mouth.
“We need you” he mumbles, the words swallowed under more passionate collisions, drowning in your combined heavy breathing that resulted from being each other's source of air.
“Do I kiss better than Soojin?” you mumble after a hitch of your breath, his swollen lips trail down your tilted neck eagerly and patiently all at once. The memory of her makes his skin prickle, wanting nothing more but to tie himself to you further. Wet, open kisses punctuate his response, the nickname seeping into your skin, embedding its low sound into your body.
“Jealousy looks cute on you, sweetheart”
“M'not jealous" you chuckle, airy and full of lies. You can feel his grin resurface against your jaw this time, his hands slip underneath the hem of your blouse, tracing the slit of skin with slow strokes,
“Don't lie to me” he murmurs, brushing his lips against yours for another taste of you. “M'gonna take this off”
He announces it, waiting for your nod to confirm before pulling the fabric over your head. The white, lace adorned bra cups your small chest beautifully, pulling his eyes to trace down the curve of your neck, the line of your shoulders, down to your breasts. He attempts to soothe his ragged need by running his hands up and down your back, feeling the skin grounding him.
Your manicured fingers pull him in by his tie, loosening the patterned fabric as he works on shrugging his heavy jacket off his shoulders. The rings on his finger are cool against your cheek, while your fingertips thrum against his chest once you've managed to unbutton his shirt. The desire in your eyes is honest as you do nothing but look at each other, painted under the light of the kitchen, shifting as he carries you up the stairs, lays you down into the plushness of his large bed. His black covers dip underneath your combined weight. There's gentleness in this heat, in the way his fringe tingles on your forehead as he supports himself - bicep flexing next to your head.
“You're so fucking beautiful” he whispers, nipping at your bottom lip the moment a pout forms on your face. Inside his chest cracks open the sentiment of being naked. Everything you know about the way he is, the pressure of his kisses and the taste of his skin, how his muscles flex and his eyes get heavy lidded - made him so, so naked.
Above you, the warmth radiates from him, forgetting that your skin is exposed to the cold nightly air taking up most of the tranquil room. Birds singing outside remind you that there's a whole word beyond this moment and these four walls that surround you.
Jungkook, most of the time, knows what he wants. His lips and hands wander all over you, rounding your shoulders, unclasping your bra with distracting flicks of his tongue on your collarbone. The bra gets tossed somewhere unimportant, his mouth devotes itself to leave every patch of your chest kissed, tracing down the subtle swell of your breasts - but there's only so much throbbing you can take between your thighs, so many little nibbles until you get restless and dig your nails into the naked muscle on his back.
“Stop whining” he huffs, tugging sharply at your right nipple while lapping at the equally stiff left one, his lips close around it with a rougher suck. You naturally whimper again, raising your back off the bed to indulge into his touch as much as you try to squirm away from it. The only place you wish to run to right now is this.
Alternating sides, he glances up at your pleasure clouded face, circling your bud the tip of his tongue torturously slowly, rubbing against the other one with the pad of his thumb without necessary roughness.
Too shallow, too soft.
“Please”
Jungkook hums at your whiny plea, noting the furrow in your eyebrows that's formed in concentration to, somehow, feel more of his touch.
“Ask nicely for what you want” he retorts, continuing to suck on your skin with time entirely at his mercy. Your fingers curl into his hair, voice coming out quietly and stained with embarrassment.
“Please.. give me more”
“Not so hard, is it?”
You shake your head no - breaking into a louder moan as he sucks more insistently, lips smacking against your skin. “Yes- mh -mmh”
“Like this yeah?” he mumbles, the breathless moans coming from your lips fill up his ears with motivation to keep kissing at your chest until your palm flattens on his forehead, pushing in overstimulation. He smiles, dominant and beautifully dangerous while dancing down the line of your stomach, kissing along your navel with his tongue dipping just a slither below your pant line. Warm fingers cup your thighs, carrying the need to rip off your pants to be gratified with the feel of your skin on his own.
If both of you listened closely enough, the joined, rapid thumping of two interlinked hearts could be heard below Jungkook's deep murmurs.
“You're so needy, what are you squirming for?”
“You, Jungkook” you pout again, unfamiliar with the desperate edge in your voice and the urge to beg for something like the touch of another person. His grip on your thighs loosen, repositioning to rub your hips on either side.
“What do you want from me? Talk to me”
“Something, just do something” you groan impatiently, biting the corner of your lip at the sudden sting after the smack he lands on your thigh, shaking his head to retaliate.
“Ask nicely. You want me to take this off and touch you?” he asks, narrowing his voice down into a delicious, low rumble that melts you down further, sinking into the intoxication he's drunk with. His dark eyes look straight up at you, expecting you to answer him. Still, there's an underlying question in the way he brushes his thumb over your hip bone as he waits for your response.
“Can you please.. take it off”
“And do what?”
He slowly unzips your pants, popping the button and getting a glance of the tiny bow sitting obediently atop your panties. Teasing, so sweet.
The sensation of your pants sliding down your legs feels freeing, an obvious damp spot greeting Jungkook as he tugs your legs free - making his painfully erect cock twitch against the material of his boxers.
“Touch me, please” you finish, a glossy layer overshadows your eyes and a slight sheath of sweat coats your palms. Nervously, you grip the dark sheets, closing your thighs to hide your growing arousal from him. His demeanor shifts to compliment your surfacing emotion, sliding his warm, steady hands up and down your arms, placing a longing kiss to your forehead. Your chest deflates with a heavy exhale into the safety.
“Good girl, that's it pretty. I'm gonna touch you, just like you want”
His own need is mere background noise the minute he parts your thighs again, sees the reciprocated craving of your body for his. The tip of his index draws a line on your inner thighs, touches the scruff lace edges of your panties before laying his palm out, cupping your mound into his hand possessively.
His round nose brushes your cheek as he just holds patiently, grinding ever so slightly against where you need it most. Jungkook’s tongue comes out to take a brief lick at the shell of your reddened ear as his whispered lures taunt you.
“M'gonna be so good to you. You want that don't you? You want me to make you feel good?”
The depth of his fingers circling your tender clit is sufficient for a gasp to leave you, for your lips to seek out his in order to dim down the volume of desire coursing through you. He doesn't respond by engaging in your kiss, rather by slipping his fingers below the cotton to find a small sea to dip in, trail back up to more gratifying touches on your most sensitive part.
“You gotta use your words” he insists, the circles growing smaller, faster against your slickness. Practically coaxing the words he needs to hear out of you, the want much greater than any fear.
There's beauty outside control.
If Jungkook was pretty before, he's striking now. Buried deep between your thighs that he has hooked over his shoulders. Inhaling the scent on you, tangy candy and musk, coating his tongue from the first long stripe he licks up your center. Your thighs tighten, secure in his hands that lock you down on his mouth.
The slow, long licks don't last for long, shift into sharp, short flicks against your swelling clit. Feeling him strum the pad of his fingers against your entrance, you break out into another helpless whimper, tightening around nothing but the sole thought of his thick fingers nestled inside your cunt.
Knowingly, he doesn't push in, keeps sucking on your clit, letting his saliva run down your puffy folds, you know what he needs to hear, you know what he wants you to do.
“Please, put it in - haah”
Jungkook groans, the deep noise vibrating against your soaked skin. One of his fingers slide in slowly, pausing his mouth's actions as the warmth welcomes him in like it had been awaiting his arrival. He uses the pause to listen to his name falling from your lips, appreciating your eyes shutting when, without a warning, a second finger sinks in, curling both digits upwards deliberately.
“You're so good, look at you” he mumbles, plunging his fingers in and out of you slowly enough to feel them drag against your walls, making a mess with relentless laps on your clit.
“I - fuck i'm gonna come” you squeak, tugging the strands of his hair weakly, your lower stomach is full to the brim with pressure, a large wave of pleasure tips right over you, swimming into his mouth greedily.
“That's it, come right into my mouth” he moans, licking up every drop of delightful pleasure spilling from you. Your taste hits him all at once, eyes closed and frowning for more. He doesn't stop you, lets you rock your hips into his mouth, unfiltered.
“Needy fucking thing aren't you? Not enough?” he huffs, rising back to his original position of hovering over you. Flushed, trying to suppress the panting and submission. Red looks elegant on your face, his thumb traces the color in adoration, watching the pupils dilate in your eyes.
He looks just like you do, exhales heavy and raw, desire replacing the blood in his veins.
The tension winding in his toned stomach snaps at the brief, careful touch of your warm hand on his bulge. Hard, straining aggressively. Your hand rests there, feeling out his thick shape, his length below your fingers.
“I need to feel you” he breathes out, permanently etching the words into your brain despite how softly they were spoken. Quickly returns to smash his lips onto yours with a rough kiss as if to consume you whole, passing the taste of yourself onto your tongue.
“Lift a little f’me”
One of his many pillows slides under your stomach, the imprint of his hand burning your bare hips, knees rooted in his sheets. Jungkook takes a shaky inhale, gathers your hair into his hand to reveal the curve of your spine, there for him to kiss reverently.
“Fuck, you’re soaking” he bites down on his lip, a groan ripping from his throat at the sinful sight below. Your thighs gleam, the same shine coating his heavy cock as he grinds it through your folds, slapping the pink tip against your glossy, tight hole once, then twice.
“Thaaaat’s right, take my cock so well”
Praise soothes the stretch he’s giving you, building a cozy home inside your body to reside in. You know now, that you want it all. His heart, his mind, his body craving itself into yours on nights like these. Your hands are planted down securely, though your elbows wobble under his impact.
Pushing in further until his pelvis makes contact with your backside. At the first feel of him, entirely sunken into you, intertwined, both of you remain melodically silent.
He adjusts the position of his hips, angling until a spongy, soft spot nudges his tip - and starts moving his hips. Deep with a craving for connection in this messy pleasure. It’s been so long since he felt himself burn with another person, smell the sex in his bedroom and enjoy the taste of salty sweat and sweet skin to skin.
“Good, so so good” your broken words buzz inside his head, making the deep and rhythmic ruts get sloppier. Moans, groans and whines come together in harmony, loud, shameless.
“Suck on it baby, c’mon” Jungkook threads his strong arm around your throat, holding his thumb on your plush bottom lip. When you don’t open your mouth right away, too lost in the vast ocean of pleasure, he shoves it past your lips - grinding against the wet muscle.
Your lips close around it instinctively, mindless callouts muffled by sucking just like he’d ask. Your obedience sparks him to thrust deeper, pushing your body back into him gets you another reward - his wet thumb finds your oversensitive clit, stimulating it wildly. No direction, no even movements as he seeks you out and you keep calling for him.
“I’m gonna come jungkook”
“You're gonna hold it” he gruffly says, taking away the additional pleasure to run his fingers through your hair, pulling your head back at the roots. Your neck stretches - back arching more than either of you thought possible and it stings better than you’ve ever felt it before.
The thorough, overwhelming orgasm building in your body is impendant, you clench on his big cock and whine for him louder,
“Can- can’t, please, mhh- fuck”
“You can, you can. C’mon be good and hold it” he grits out, jaw tense as his hips snap ruthlessly, chasing his own high.
You’re so soft and warm and so fucking tight - the arch of your back clings with sweat against his will and he loves it. The knowledge of you wanting to break all over his cock - all of it comes together to push him over the edge he’s been dancing on. He’s falling fast, closing his eyes for one last time to pull the strings of his voice together,
“Let go for me, let go baby”
“Fuck” he whispers, pumping his cock into his fist, right after feeling you gush on him. He throbs in his own hand, then you feel it - sticky, warm as it leaks down onto your back, drips down while he’s attempting to catch his ragged breath. Your knees finally give out - with a long, tired sigh, your sore chest makes contact with his bed, head buzzing, aware of your body’s heat and unaware of the look in his eyes, the heaving of his broad upper body.
Footsteps sound behind your closed eyes, inching closer to you. He places the damp towel on your spine, wiping away the traces of his cum, kisses the spot after, pats your butt like he had every right to that normalcy.
The normalcy of laying down next to you, wrapping his still bare body around yours - heart beating against your back. You still don’t see him, your open eyes scan his colorful tattoos contrasting your skin.
“Are you feeling okay?”
His voice is rough, the aftermath of what you did audible, louder in the proximity of his mouth to your ear. You give something close to a nod, a mumbled yes in response. You are okay. More than okay.
“Not too rough?”
“No”
“No?” he buries his nose into your neck, mumbling your words back in a question.
“No,” your body moves before you could stop it from happening and finally, after everything, you’re looking straight at him.
“Was perfect”
It’s not monday or wednesday today, which is precisely why Jukyung is confused for the first minute of seeing you take your jacket off.
It’s saturday, his dad has a day off and is wearing black sweats and a dark grey t-shirt. So he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
What matters though, is that his favourite person is in his home unexpectedly, so he runs up to you, flinging his arms around you in a rush.
"Noona! "
“Hey there” you greet back, returning the hug. Jungkook watches with his arms crossed and his head slightly tipped to the side.
The confusion in Jukyung’s eyes returns when you give the same greeting to his dad - allowing him to sneak his arms around your waist. This is new.
“We’re having movie night, i told you buddy” Jungkook says, reading the question off his child’s lips. He did tell him, however, Jukyung naturally assumed it would be on the following Monday. Not a boring, 7pm saturday - an hour before his technically strict bedtime.
“You decide on a movie while appa and i make snacks yeah?” You add, smiling at Jukyung warmly. Behind you, the older man waits impatiently, holding the edge of the door in his hand. Jukyung nods, taking charge of the remote to select a movie - all three of you knew what it’d be, you’ve been unsuccessful in redirecting his favourite ghibli movie.
“Missed you” Jungkook mumbles against your lips, the door mostly closed - shielding you from the curious pair of eyes his son holds.
Smart kid.
You tell him you missed him too, breathing in the subtle perfume on his shirt. His palm holds the side of your face, making an effort to keep your eyes on his.
“He’s used to sleeping early, an hour and he’s dozing off, promise” he says quietly, knuckles grazing your powdery soft skin,
“I know” you whisper, closing your eyes to soak up his touch. When Jukyung would find out is still undecided - it hasn’t been long but, sneaking around creates a guilty cloud to float above your heads, raining down anytime the three of you come together.
Jungkook smiles, precious and simple, then leans down again to feel your lips on his to reassure that - soon, you’d tell him soon.
A gasp erupts in the silence but neither of you are the cause of it.
Or.. right now.
“Appa - you’re -” the childs eyes widen alongside his big, toothy smile.
“Kyungie - listen to me-” you start - frantically turning to him while Jungkook shuts his eyes tightly, accepting their dooming defeat.
“Appa likes noona, Appa likes noona” Jukyung sings loudly, skipping around the kitchen.
|| jungkook finds himself pathetically begging for you to stop ignoring him - to the point he's quite literally, on his knees.
content : age gap relationship !! (22 & 31) , implied jealousy, slight argument and silent treatment, subby kook !! grumpy but obsessed, SMUT. begging, praise, male whimpers !!! <3, oral fem.- rec., multiple orgasm, cowgirl p in v, lots of talking, hes so needy guys,, lil tit play, clit play, light hair pulling, aftercare <3
♡ bunny´s notes : our fav dilf is back !! do we like this version of mr jeon? thank u to anonie for requesting !! may contain typos & errors as usual,, even more so bc its late and not proofread lolz
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If bringing over Jukyung to Soojin's house was a sin, Jungkook would be a sinner right now.
It's not like he brought him over to Soojin, he thinks - their kids have been friends before you had even stepped foot in Jungkook's house, much less, expressed your dislike toward Soojin.
Yet, in your book, Jungkook has definitely sinned.
"But don't you understand what i'm trying to say here?"
He watches your hands gesture the way they always would when you're frustrated; palms up, moving up and down with every word coming out of your mouth - empathizing their weight appropriately.
"I do, but he wanted to visit his friend. What was i supposed to do baby, say no because you weren't there?"
"Yes, that's exactly what. You could have waited those 30 minutes until i came to bring him over myself"
Jungkook groans, running his promise ring adorned hand through his messy hair, rolled up sleeves reveal the beautiful stories trapped in his body art. Somehow that made the situation at hand ten times worse in your mind.
"You're being immature __ , nothing happend and i promise i won't do it again but we don't need to drag this out"
Immature.
You hated this word so much- and Jungkook knows, the moment his eyes find yours again, narrowed below the soft frown blooming between your eyebrows. The age difference between the both of you is an unspoken sore spot, a sensitivity you bump into often - without ever really speaking of it.
For the moment of silence, your hearts beat in sync, lining up only to be rattled by the soft scoff passing through your lips.
It stayed silent for long after that.
During dinner about an hour later that was eaten separately, one person on the couch - one in the kitchen, and during the thirty minutes afterward, when jungkook had enough of washing dishes and being in the wrong. The water shuts off, he shakes his hands once before walking over to where you're laying on the couch.
"Baby" he says, your eyes flicker toward him in reaction - only to glue themselves back on to the screen in front of you. Voices of a show you hate watching fill the room quietly, but the remote is too far away to grab and there's no way you're acknowledging Jungkook right now.
"Come on love" he sighs, sitting down next to you. The presence and smell of his fresh scent is a comfort you try your hardest not to welcome, though it doesn't work quite as much as you want it to.
From the outside however, you don't budge. Eyes trained foward, head resting in your hand, silent as a statue.
Jungkook is a patient man.
" __ , i'm sorry baby. I should'nt have.. said that. It was important to you. Maybe i don't.. see it the same way, but i should have respected it anyway"
His large palm moves up and down on the curve of your hip, down the the edge of your silky shorts. Warm and sweet even through the fabric, the warmth of his words also seep through to you - reaching the stubborn part that's been holding on to your heart.
But not fully, not yet.
Jungkook's doe eyes run over the smooth expanse of your legs, up to the neutral expression on your pretty face. When you fail to acknowledge him again, the hand on your hip tightens it's grip slightly, squeezing,
"Baby"
"Baby? Come on, please"
There's nothing youre giving him, not after his sincere apology, not after repeatedly kissing your cheek and jaw,
Nothing.
With nothing left to do for him either, he groans, mumbling about you being a brat while making his way down from the couch - knees hitting the carpeted floor with a light thump.
Your heart skips a beat when his hands find your hips again, only for them to run down your thighs, pulling them off the couch.
Finally, your gaze collides with his.
"I said, i'm sorry. Please baby, you can stop ignoring me"
There's a want in his eyes, a needy glint for attention shining up at you. You hum, the sound low and barely audible - nonetheless more than you'd granted him so far. With your knees still in his hands, he waits for more.
"Talk to me" he mumbles between kisses, dragging his plump and pierced bottom lip down the side of your leg, against the risen goosebumps that betray your pissed off act wordlessly.
"Don't do this to me hm?"
You sigh, the breath coming from the bottom of your lungs - releasing any ounce of annoyance you truly had for him. His tongue flicks over your inner thigh the instant one of his hands found grounding there, resting promisingly. The breath of his needy voice dances against your skin like a slow walz, complimenting the rhymic steps of his lips on your skin, traveling closer to the edge of your shorts.
"I'm mad at you kook"
"I know you are. But please, please stop ignoring me" he rasps, the flat tip of his round nose grazing just under your shorts, fingers skimming the lines on either thigh with an underlying ache in their tips. He wants to touch you, kiss you, feel you - all of your affection, your attention.
"I can't stand this, please baby, i'm literally on my fucking knees here"
You reach down to cup his chin between your thumb and pointer finger, his focus redirects to your face obediently - to your lips as they move with more than just a passive reply.
"You're sorry right? Won't do it again, not without talking to me, yeah?"
He nods, a messy strand of his dark hair falling over his forehead, the desprate edge in his grumpy tone makes more heat pool on your lower tummy - where it'd started acquiring the moment his knees had hit the ground. As much as he pretended to be convinced by your act, jungkook and you both know - this is just a little powerplay to you, a way to reclaim what he took by calling you immature.
And to hell if he isn't deeply, deeply into it.
"I swear, and i said it a million times baby, just - fuck, just let me make you feel good. C'mon"
Your shorts are tossed away, his hands hold your thighs open wide and secure, making space for his face to nuzzle into the space between without a second to spare. Nose running against your damp cotton panties, tongue eager to taste the tangy sweetness off the fabric.
He's starving for you.
Groans of his satisfaction sink into your dripping cunt alongside a single one of his thick fingers. Your own, softer moans fill his ears like the prize he worked oh so hard for. As his greedy tongue laps on your clit, accompanying the shallow thrust of his digit, your sounds of pleasure grow louder - more rewarding.
"That's it - ahh - right there"
"Mhhh- yes, yeahh, you're so good, good job"
Jungkook's cock strains painfully against his slacks, the outline of his curved, girthy length giving away as much of his own enjoyment as the furrow in his brows and the whimpers shamelessy spilling from his busy lips.
As he sucks on your clit, feeling your walls spasm around him - his eyes stare up at your blissful expression, chaining your gazes together, intertwining your joined pleasure further. He lets his spit run down your puffy folds, lapping it back up to spread on your swollen pearl as he whines beneath breathy words,
"Gonna cum for me? Please baby, give it to me"
You nod, a broken up yes managing to escape as well. With your fingers tightening around his hair, you pull him closer between your thighs, his entire tongue grinds against your pussy - his moans vibrating against the wet skin adding to final push.
The taste flooding his mouth is enough to nearly tip him over, his hand quickly stalling their rough palming - he wanted to be fully indulged in your high - your open mouth, lolled back head and twitching cunt. Tasting the forgiveness on his lips as he licks them, he's making his way on the couch, kissing up your neck, thumbing your sensitive clit.
"You taste so good, so so good for me"
The sore feeling in his knees fades into the background even as you swing your thighs on either side of him, hands swift to reach for his zipper. The noise rings in your ears similar to a bell realising everyone after a long day. The addition of rough, open mouthed kisses on his jaw make Jungkook circle back to helplessly whimpering - suppressing the itch in his hands to flip you over and dominate, claim, take.
You deserve this control.
"Want my attention don't you?" you speak against his ear, nipping at the lobe briefly. Jungkook exhales, relaxed back against the cushions, eyes heavy lidded.
"Yes angel, all of it"
You push up the bottom of his shirt, revealing the lower part of his toned stomach, burning your fingerprints into him and wishing they'd be as visible to everyone else as they are to you two. He nibbles on his bottom lip, pushing his hips upwards in hopes to feel something, some part of your body meeting his ache.
Feeling generous, you finish undoing his pants and wrap your delicate hand around the twitching cock beneath his boxers. His breath hitches, abs tensing once skin to skin. You move your hand for one beat, spreading the drop of saliva you'd spit down before raising your hips.
Both of Jungkook's hands couldn't stay off of you for too long, finding their rightful home on your waist right over your baggy tshirt, feeling out the familiar curves and dips underneath. His reddend tip nudges your tight hole - intruding the clenching slowly, way too slowly for his liking. His chest bristles as your hands support your weight on it, hips sunken down until you meet his pelvis.
"Fuck, fuck baby" he mumbles roughly, opening his shut eyes to find you staring at him already - looking for approval. With a chaste kiss to his lips, your hips start off languid - adjusting to the deep pressure, riding out the initial stretch until a consuming sense of satisfaction settles in, motivating sloppier, faster movements. His hands on your waist stabilize every rise and fall, his moans and higher pitched praises mirror your own in a submission you weren't used to seeing from your older boyfriend.
"You feel so good baby, yeahhh, yeah take it. Take what you need" he says, dropping his hands to fumble with your t-shirt, tossing it over your head, baring your torso into view.
"Keep going, take what's yours angel, this cock is allll yours" he murmurs into your neck, squeezing your chest in his hands, the small weight feeling like it was made just for him, him and him alone. You moan, arching your back into his touch - then into his mouth once his slick lips enclose your stiff, pink tips.
He tugs with his teeth, soothes with his tongue all while gripping your full ass in his desprate and grateful hands. Your movements narrowed down to deep grinds, your vocal praises reduced to half breathed groans in a mess of skin slapping and raw, honest love.
Without announcing it- rather , without needing to, he spills, tipped over by a kiss that's equal parts messy and gentle.
The warmth welcomes your own orgasm to wash over for a second time, whispering encouraging words into his mouth, pulling from the roots of his raven strands as if it were possible to mold him closer.
Your kisses linger past sliding him out of you, continue between smiles and rooms as he carries you into the nearby downstairs bathroom.
"You know i really am sorry, don't you?"
He asks, running the damp cloth under more warm water. His wrist flexes, turning the faucet off. You rub his shoulders, hiking up one knee for his better acess. As the warm cloth runs carefully between your thighs, you find your words to his question.
"Yeah. I know baby"
"Good" he starts, pressing a kiss right in the center of your forehead, "For calling you immature too. You aren't. Your mind doesn't work like mine, that's okay, i have to be more sensitive" he mumbles, dragging the kiss down to your temple, your cheek, then your jaw. Smiling a little, you swat his hand away as it finished cleaning you up.
"It's okay. I didn't have to make it a big deal"
He lets out a huff, rolling his eyes at your last words. Picking up his touch to line up your shaky thighs, his lips attach to yours, speaking against them with the hint of a grin hiding behind the kiss.
"If it's a big deal to my baby, it's a big deal to me. We're picking him up together later. Got it?"
You nip at his piercing, giggling when he hisses in response.
"Brat"
"I love you" you say, catching his fingers before they can start their slick plan of tickling your sides. He smiles, amused at how easily you read him - but his voice remains low and grumpy, sounding into another comforting kiss,