Being the heirs of rival mafia families means that you and Jungkook are supposed to be sworn enemies. Yet, as much as you claim to hate each other â deep down, you both know that the feeling is so much more than that. A feeling you both act oblivious to and bury under a haze of lust.
genre â enemies to lovers au, smut, denial,angstÂż.
pairing â jungkook x fem reader.
warnings â explicit language, smut, pussy-whipped possessive jk, jk & oc bicker a lot, fingering, rough fucking (oc likes it rough), oc is very vocal (jk LOVES it) , mentions of creampie, spanking, oral (both receiving), titty worship, jk praises oc, squirting, okay basically they're obsessed with fucking eo. etc.
wc â 14k+
you're currently sitting in one of the most grand and luxurious ballrooms in the city. tonight is supposed to be something neutral - a friendly ceremony. one of those where every major family in the underworld pretended civility for a few hours before going back to fortresses to plan their next betrayals.
the jeon family is occupying the left side of tables, whereas your family is occupying the right - as far away from each other as possible. your father is standing near the bar, looking every bit the rich, powerful and dangerous mafia, he is, while glaring at his rival - the head of the jeon family, jungkook's father. who, in return, stares back at him with the same cold, hateful look.
they hate each other so much. if there's a feeling stronger than that, then that is exactly what they feel for each other.
your eyes continue to roam around the room until they find jungkook. he's leaning against a pillar near his family's side, looking so fuckable in that tailored suit he's wearing, with the first few buttons left open, giving you a glimpse of his chest and the ink on his shoulder. his hair is a bit longer than the last time you ran your fingers through it, which you're thankful for because it looks even better than it usually does.Â
he looks bored until his eyes find yours. you hate how your heart stutters at the eye contact. it's been three weeks since he last had you pinned against his office desk, three weeks since he had you whimpering beneath him, three weeks since he fucked the living daylights out of you.
you tear your gaze away first, accepting champagne from one of the servers who happens to be too scared to even meet your eyes. every few minutes you would catch him staring holes into you, eyeing you. you knew that he'd be here drinking you in and that's exactly why you've decided to wear an elegant gown that's just a little revealing - cut low at the back with a slit running up your thigh. easy access.
after a few minutes of sitting, you decide it's time to slip away for a little while. you excuse yourself and no one questions it. heirs disappear all the time, whether it's to powder their noses, make discreet calls or converse with family allies, so it's a normal thing to do without getting suspicions.
you walk through the crowd until you reach the long corridor that leads to the private restrooms, inside the women's restroom is pristine and polished. there's a massive mirror stretched across the wall above the vanity. you set your bag down and study your reflection. you look perfect, but still, you tuck a small strand of hair behind your ear and adjust your hair - not because you need to, but because you know that he'll be here soon.
and right on cue, the door opens slowly, closes once he's inside and locks. instead of turning to face him, you watch him in the mirror. he leans against the wall with his arms crossed and head tilted, watching you watch yourself.
"still primping?" his voice is rough and a little mocking. "thought you'd at least pretend that you weren't waiting for me."
you roll your eyes at him. "thought you'd at least pretend that you aren't desperate enough to follow me into the bathroom like some horny teenager."
he huffs out a laugh. "three weeks is a long time, princess."
"don't call me that."
"why not?" he pushes off the wall and approaches you slowly. "you know you love it when i call you that."
"i love a lot of things you do with your mouth. talking isn't one of them."
he stops directly behind you, his hands settling on the vanity on either side of you, caging you in without touching you. his scent fills your lungs, something that isn't too strong, but still expensive, that signature smell of his that's grown to give you some kind of comfort you're unable to explain.
"look at you," he murmurs. "all dressed up, standing there and trying to convince yourself you hate me."
"i do hate you."
"yeah?" his lips brush your earlobe. "then why're you shaking? nervous?"
you scoff before speaking. "because i'm imagining all the ways i can kill you."
he chuckles against your skin. "liar."
your breath hitches when you feel one of his hands sliding up one of your thighs, under the slit of your dress, until he finds your core and cups it over your underwear. his palm rests there, making you suck in a breath.
"i missed you," he says quietly,
your eyes snap to his in the mirror. he doesn't have that cocky look on his face. his eyes roam your body with that hunger that makes you feel weak.
"three weeks," he repeats. "way too fucking long."
his lips find the side of your neck.
"don't." you warn.
"don't what?" he leaves an open-mouthed kiss on your neck. "don't tell you the truth? or don't do this?"
"both." you breathe out.
"too late,"Â
his other hand goes up to grab a fistful of your hair, tugging it back so your head is leaning on his shoulder. in the mirror you watch your reflection, noticing how your lips part and eyes darken.
"look at us," he rasps against your throat. "look how fucking perfect you look with my hands on you."
you try to glare at him, but unfortunately your eyes look more pleading than anything.
"shut up, jeon."
"why don't you make me?"
you gasp in his mouth when he suddenly kisses you roughly and passionately, showing you just how much he's been needing this the past few weeks. you arch back into him without thinking, your ass pressing against his cock through his slacks, making him groan into your mouth.
your hands thread through his hair, angling his head where you want him so you can lick deep into his mouth. he groans again, and rewards you by cupping your core harder, the heel of his hand pressing against your clit causing your hips to buck forward.
"fuck," you gasp into his mouth.
he swallows the sound and kisses you harder while his fingers slip into your underwear. two of them caress your folds, gathering your wetness before circling your clit the way you like. he starts off slow at first then picks up the pace, going faster. you can't help the needy moan that slips out of you and the way your pussy clenches around him.
he breaks the kiss to murmur against your lips. "so wet already. been dreaming about this pussy for three weeks straight.
"oh, shut up," you hiss.
he pushes two fingers inside you until they're knuckles deep. your eyes flutter closed as you let out soft moans of pleasure that become more audible when he starts pumping his fingers inside you deeper. you meet the thrusts of his fingers shamelessly.
"how nice that you're clenching around my fingers in a bathroom while our families are a couple feet away plotting each other's deaths."
again, you try to glare at him but miserably fail when he curls his fingers inside you.
"jeon-"
he pulls his fingers out of you and your eyes open widely at the loss. you whip your head around to glare at him properly now. he just smirks down at you, looking all cocky again. that sight makes you want to slap him and ride him at the same time.Â
without breaking eye contact with you, he brings his hand to his mouth and sucks your arousal off his fingers. his tongue swirling around each of them slowly. you stare at him. he's so filthy and you love it.
"asshole," you say.
he ignores your rude comment and spins you back around so fast your hands slap down onto the vanity to steady yourself. you're facing the mirror fully now with him behind you. his eyes locked on yours in the reflection again. he doesn't say anything, he reaches down and unbuckles his belt, opens the buttons of his slacks then pulls down the zipper.
you watch every single thing he does in the mirror. watching as he pulls his pants and boxers down halfway. watching as his hard length springs free. your mouth goes dry (even as you mentally salivate at the sight). he wraps a hand around himself, giving himself a few strokes, from the base up to the tip, spreading his precum with his thumb. he reaches down between your legs again, collects more of your arousal and uses it as lubrication on himself as he keeps stroking his cock. you clench around nothing just watching until he stops touching himself.
with one hand he reaches for the hem of your dress and pulls it up over your hips, bunching it at your hips. the other hand he uses to pull your underwear down, so it pools at your ankles. the cool air hitting your soaked core and the anticipation make you tremble a little. jungkook groans at the sight of you like this -trembling, your ass bare and pussy glistening.
"so fucking pretty." he mutters mostly to himself.
after admiring you for a few more seconds his fingers are on you again rubbing your clit until you twitch and chase the pressure for a short while before he withdraws his fingers and brings them to his mouth again, sucking them clean with a hum of satisfaction.
"you're disgusting." you whisper.
he leans over so his chest presses against your back and talks near your ear.
"don't act like you don't love it."
you want to say something to argue, but he's right. very much right.
he lines himself at your entrance, sliding his tip inside and pulling out, teasing you (and himself)
"jungkookâ"
"tell me you want me." he says.
you bite your lip when he sinks in a little deeper, stretching you open.
"say it, princess."
"fuck you." you hiss.
he lets out a little disbelieved scoff. but pushes in slowly, filling you with his large length until he's all the way in, buried to the brim with his hips flush against your ass. you both freeze, eyes locked in the mirror. both of you looking wrecked. jungkook flexes inside of you causing you to whimper. he stays there buried inside you, not moving, just giving you a stern look.
you put your pride aside and whisper, "i want you, jungkook."
"good girl." he murmurs.
he pulls out almost all the way before slamming back in. again and again. his thrusting in and out of you drives you insane. your palms slide against the vanity, fingers curling, wishing you could grip on something instead.
"faster," you demand with a sweet gasp.
he leans down, speaking near your ear. "beg for me."
you lift your head to glare at his reflection. "fuck. you."
he grins, knowing his luck wasn't going to work. he gives you what you want. he increases his pace, fucking you with a rhythm that has you seeing stars. the entire time you try your best not to look away from him. you want to watch him fuck and mark you.
his free hand slides up your back pushing it down so you're arching beautifully, giving him a better and deeper angle. your moans and his groans grow louder as the pleasure builds for both of you.
"you feel too good," he pants. "so tight and wet. you've really been waiting for me, hmm?"
"i wasn't." you lie as your walls flutter around him.
"liar." he growls and punctuates it with a hard thrust.
you cry out from pleasure and a little bit of pain. one of his hands slide down to find your clit, rubbing it circles that match his brutal thrusts.
"jungkook- fuck. don't stop."
"i won't," he says through gritted teeth. "not until you're coming all over my cock."
you whimper and clench hard around him. the sensation causes him to groan loudly.
"f-fuck," he grunts.
you do it again. your walls clamp down on him hard making his thrusts stutter. his hips slam forward one last time, buried in completely before he halts his movements.
"stop," he grits out. "stop clenching me like that, you're gonna make me come too fast."
you let out a breathless, mocking laugh before speaking. "poor baby. can't handle it?"
after registering your words, his hand comes down to deliver a sharp smack to your ass. the sting is delicious and causes you to involuntarily flutter around him again.
"brat," he hisses. "if you want me to fuck you properly then behave."
you force yourself to relax, trying to loosen your muscles even though your body is screaming to pull him deeper, to keep him there inside you where he belongs.
the second you unclench around him, he rewards you but pulling all the way out and slamming back in with a force that has your eyes rolling back.
he sets a perfect pace that makes it impossible for you to stay quiet as much as you can try. sweet loud moans and profanities leave your mouth that is definitely audible to anyone outside; "jungkookâ oh Godâyes right there! â fuckâ"
he curses under his breath before placing his palm over your mouth, muffling your loud, inappropriate sounds before you attract any attention.
"shh. you wanna get us caught? want your father kicking down the door while i'm balls deep in his little princess?"
the image of that terrifies you. it would be an abomination if something like that ever happened. your father has been very vocal about his pure hatred for the jeons, including the one currently giving you one of the best fucks of your life. but still jungkook always feel too good for you to control yourself, so unfortunately you cannot help the whiny, muffled moan that slips out of you.
"fuck's sake."
he slides two fingers past your lips, pushing them deep in your mouth until they hit the back of your tongue.
"suck." he orders. "keep that pretty mouth busy."
you obey without hesitation. wrapping your lips around his fingers and sucking hard, hollowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue the same way you'd done to his cock more times that you could count. thinking of the blowjobs you've given him makes you hum around his fingers, eager to feel him in your mouth again.
"that's it." he rasps. "prettiest sounds i've ever heard."
you whimper around his fingers. his thrusts get harder and deeper, making your toes curl.Â
after a few minutes, your pussy starts fluttering around him causing his breath to hitch.
"there it is," he groans and picks up the pace even more. "love when you do that. when your greedy little cunt starts begging for it."
you try to speak, try to beg, but his fingers are still deep in your mouth so all that comes is a desperate, garbled whine.
"come with me. let me feel you." he orders.
after the last thrust, you release with a muffled sob of his name. your pussy spasms and milks him so hard he swears violently under his breath. he follows you right after, burying himself as deep as possible and releases inside you until you feel it leaking out around him, dripping down your thighs. his hand goes up to cup your jaw gently, tilting your face so he can leave a soft kiss on your temple before carefully pulling out. you whimper at the loss, he watches himself leaving you as your combined release drips.
"fuck, that's so hot."
you shake your head despite the heat warming up your cheeks at his words. "we have to get cleaned up, jeon. we've got something to get back to."
he reaches for one of the thick towels from the stack on the counter and wets it under the tap. he kneels behind you. the sight of jeon jungkook on his knees in a tailored suit is definitely something out of your wettest dreams.
he cleans you up, wiping between your thighs. he's so gentle it surprises you, because some seconds ago he was fucking you like he hated you. once most of the evidence is gone, he looks up at you and leaves the softest kiss to the back of your thigh before standing up again.
"don't get used the princess treatment, yeah?" he murmurs, tossing the towel in the bin. "next time i'm leaving you dripping down your legs."
you roll your eyes at him for the one millionth time. "next time you'll be lucky if i let you touch me at all."
"sure."
he turns his attention to your messy appearance. your dress is a bit creased and still bunched up at your waist. your hair looks - well it looks like you've been thoroughly fucked, which of course you were. your lipstick is smudged and your mascara smeared under your eyes. he steps in close and starts fixing you. neatening your dress, adjusting your dress's straps with his fingertips mistakenly grazing over your breasts.
"careful." you warn.
he hums amused and then moves to your hair, combing it with his fingers and brushing a stray strand behind your ear in a way that seems way too tender for people who are supposed to be enemies.
"there," he says quietly, stepping back to survey his work. "you look almost respectable again."
you turn to face him now. he looks delicious. his hair falls into his eyes, lips swollen from your kisses, his collar wrinkled and he's a little sweaty. he looks like he deserves the best and sloppiest head in the world.
you reach up without thinking, straighten his collar and smooth his shirt. before you can pull away, he catches your wrist and holds it there, near his chest.
"why're you looking at me like that, hmm?" he asks, staring down at you.
"like what?"
"like you want me to take you again. i will if you want me to."
you yank your hand free from his hold. "in your dreams, jeon."
"yeah, almost every night." he shoots back with a smirk.
you ignore his statement, despite the wanted eruption of butterflies you feel in your stomach. jungkook checks his watch with a sigh.
"we've been gone too long already." he says.
"you go first. i'll wait for a while then come out."
he nods before leaning in to press a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. he gives you a little smirk then slips out the door. you give it at least two minutes before exiting the bathroom and slipping back into the hallway.
once you get back to your family's table you take your seat next to your mother, softly wincing at the dull, delicious ache between your legs. your mother turns to you immediately, her eyebrows knitting.
"what took you so long?" she asks while her eyes inspect you. "and your hair... it's a mess. are you alright?"
you force a smile. "i wasn't feeling well. must be the champagne and all the people. i needed a minute to breathe."
she studies you for another few seconds before her face softens. "poor thing. we won't stay much longer, i promise. your father's already been itching to leave anyway."
she reaches over and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. "you sure you're okay?"
"fine, mom, really."
she squeezes your hair once then turns back to whatever conversation she was having before you came. across the room, you see jungkook at his table again. he's sitting with his legs spread and an arm draped over the back of another chair. he looks so hot, still so fuckable, you wish you had agreed to let him take you again.
a server places a dish in front of him. a large piece of steak with some vegetables on the side. he picks up his fork and knife and digs in as if he hadn't just fucked his sworn enemy senseless in a bathroom minutes ago.Â
you've grown to learn that jungkook loves food, he loves eating. loves the way food feels on his tongue, loves the flavours, loves everything about it. but you've also grown to learn that if there's anything he loves to eat more than food - it's you.
you can't help but think about how he devours you like he's a starved man, instead of the rich, cocky bastard he usually is. the way he feasts on you, holding your thighs spread open until you're crying, shaking and begging him to stop but also to keep going.
your whole body heats up traitorously fast. damn jungkook and the stupid effect he has on you.
â˘âââŕ¨ŕ§ââââ˘
a week passes by slowly, excruciatingly slow. all because it's been seven days of radio silence between you and jungkook. no messages, no random calls ending with you two having phone sex, no nothing. not that you really expected anything else, that was the deal. fuck and forget and hate each other. except this time you can't find yourself enjoying the last two very much.
you've spent most of the week locked in your own head, isolated in your fortress of an apartment. the one your father spent hundreds of thousands on. another one of the luxuries in your life that's starting to feel like a cage.
your parents love you, you know that, it's unquestionable. but love, in your family comes with terms and conditions. because your mother had complications getting pregnant again, you're an only child. the sole heir, the future of an empire that's built on money and dead bodies. you have a lot of expectations. one day the power will be yours, whether you want it or not.
and of course, you do not want it.
you want something better, something that actually makes you happy, something that's nothing like the obligations you're forced to have.Â
you want to write, live in your head and put your wildest thoughts on a piece of paper. you want to express all the thoughts you've never gotten to word into a book - every fantasy you've lived, every fantasy you have yet to live. it's all you ever wanted since you were a little girl.
you've majored in literature at a university your father only tolerated because it was an ivy league and it looked good on paper.
even in your free time, writing feels like the only thing that allows you to be your true self. so when you can, you write. most of the stories you write about one specific person you despise. jungkook. he's such an interesting source of inspiration for you, especially in all of the erotic stories you write. well of course he would be. that man gives you the time of your life every time his dick is buried deep inside you.
But your dreams and ambitions don't really matter. Because at the end of the day, your parents want security, powerful alliances and legacy. And lately whenever you were alone with your parents they started dropping hints.
"Have you ever thought about settling down?" your mother would casually ask.
Your father would nod before adding on. "There are good guys out there. Sons of men we trust. Strong families. It would solidify things."
They didn't name anyone yet, but you knew many of their friends from over the years. They were all powerful, all of them safe for you. All of them so fucking boring you wanted to scream.
You didn't argue with them because you didn't think you had a right to. You have to please your parents no matter what. Even if it means putting your own happiness on the line.
So you spent the next week in your own isolated bubble - writing whatever came to mind, treating yourself to whatever you wanted, ignoring the ache between your legs that could go away if you had Jungkook.
By saturday morning you still weren't feeling too good. Which is why you've decided to text your best friend Megan for a little spa day - which of course, she immediately agreed to.
After the most relaxing day of facials, body scrubs, massages, manicures and pedicures - you and Megan are finally feeling surreal, chilling in a jacuzzi. After a while of silence, Megan turns her head to look at you.
"You've been rather quiet today. What's up?" she asks.
"I'm always quiet."
"Not like this." she nudges your foot under the warm water with her own. "Something's on your mind. I can see you're thinking too hard."
"I'm just tired." you lie.
"bullshit .
You crack one eye open, noticing that she's watching you. Who are you kidding? This is Megan, your best friend of over nineteen years. If something's wrong with you, she'd definitely know.
You let out a defeated sigh. "It's a lot." you admit. "The empire, the expectations
. And there's - the rest of it,"
"The rest of it being your extremely hot, extremely forbidden hate sex situationship with Jeon Jungkook.?"
You groan and give her an annoyed look. "Don't start."
"I'm not starting. I'm just stating facts." she gives you a small smirk. "You two still pretend you hate each other's guts while simultaneously trying to break each others's pelvis everytime there's a gala?"
You glare at her. "I do hate him."
"Mmh."
"I can't stand him."
"Sure."
"He's arrogant, stupid, fucking annoying-"
"That's funny, you say." Megan cuts in. "You light up like a Christmas tree the second his name comes up."
You open your mouth, close it then open it again. "I only need his dick." you force the words out, knowing that they might not be entirely true. "That's it. Hate fuck. No feelings. No complications."
"It's okay to want more than that, you know." she says softly.
"I don't want more. I just want to write. I want to be free. I want to be... happy,"
Megan reaches over and squeezes your shoulder. "It's okay, y/n. You're allowed to want all of that. You shouldn't be forced to do anything you don't want to."
You swallow a little lump forming in your throat. "They think marriage will fix everything and we'll have more power. They haven't said it yet but I can feel it coming."
"So what're you gonna do when they pick someone?" Megan asks softly.''
"Then I guess I'm gonna have to learn to live with it." you let out a bitter laugh.
She doesn't say anything, silence sits between the two of you for a minute before she bumps her shoulder with yours.
"Jungkook's not on that list, is he?"
You grin in disbelief. "Definitely not. My father would sooner shoot him than shake his hand."
"You're not gonna miss him afterwards?"
You don't answer her right away. Because if you had again, it would taste too bitter. Would you miss Jungkook? You're not just scared to admit the truth to Megan, you're afraid to admit the truth to yourself as well. The ugly truth that's been developing for the past few months.
"That doesn't matter."
Megan smiles sadly. "You're gonna be okay."
You lean in closer and lay your head on her shoulder, feeling relieved that you've finally gotten some things off your chest,
â˘âââŕ¨ŕ§ââââ˘
Once you get into your apartment, you kick off your shoes by the door and take off your coat, dropping it somewhere. With a loud sigh, you head straight towards the bar cabinet and grab the most expensive wine you have and pour a generous glass.
As you sip on the wine, you think to yourself. You don't want to marry some stranger. Wake up next to someone you know absolutely nothing about. Be with a person whose touch would feel foreign to you. Someone who would be polite with you, instead of the possessiveness you're now used to.
But, at the same time, you don't want to disappoint your parents. Legacy means everything to them, so you're not going to let them down. Even if it means spending the rest of your life being a miserable trophy married to a business partner.
Just as most times when you're feeling stressed or uneasy, your mind wanders off to Jungkook. How addictive his touches are. How rough he can be, yet so gentle. How he fucks you so good, you can't think of anyone else but him.
You want him here right now. Want him to shove you against the nearest surface, wrap your legs around his waist and fuck every last coherent thought out your head. You want him here to make you forget all about the weight of the crowns you never asked for...
You set the wine glass down and pick up your phone, opening your messages with him. Most of the texts are filthy things - provocative, sexy pictures sent to each other. Coordinates for hookup spots. Before you can think yourself out of it, you're typing a message
You : you busy tonight?
The three dots appear almost immediately,
Jungkook :Â yeah. Got things to handle til late.
After reading his message you let out a highly frustrated groan and carelessly toss your phone onto the couch.
"Fucking asshole. Busy when I need something."
You gulp down a huge sip of wine before you end up cursing him out.
You love sex, love the intimacy of it, love the way it feels, love absolutely everything about it. You've always been a rather needy woman, always. And when things first happened with Jungkook, your needs had become even more unbearable.
The first time with him happened almost a year ago. You were both dealing with business when something went wrong for both of you. You both ended up hurt, cornered somewhere with nowhere to go - stuck with each other.
The details of what happened that night is a story for another time ;) But somehow, for some reason, Jeon Jungkook had ended up kissing you. For unknown reasons you had started kissing him back. You kissed each other as if you were fighting, tongues colliding together, teeth clashing,saliva dripping down your chins.
Soon enough clothes were getting pulled off, bodies were gettting marked up and you were moaning the name you despised the most as he gave you the best orgasms of your life.
Since then, the two of you had made it a thing. Instead of killing each other, you used each other - fucking where you could - in his car, in yours, in private jets, in warehouses, in hotels he'd book.
The sex you have with Jungkook was undoubtedly the best thing you could ever experience. He's perfect when it comes to giving you a good time. He loves when you ride his face, loves eating you out until you're oversensitive and screaming his name, loves fucking you good and edging you until you're crying, creampies he'd finger back inside you while whispering the filthiest things in your ear. There are so many things that you and him have tried and have yet to try, and the thought of that excites you every single time.
You're certain Jungkook loves this as much as you do, if not, he loves it even more than you do. He is pussy-whipped for you. You can tell by the way he moans when he sinks into you, the way he messages you at the oddest hours to tell you how horny he is thinking about you, the way he usually cancels everything if you send him something provocative, and so much more.
It's just a mutual hate-addiction thing between the two of you. You hate his guts. You tell yourself that every time you come around his cock. And anyways, he's just a cocky bastard who loves to get under your skin, especially when he teases you about your 'princess' status even when he's balls deep inside you.
You want to kill him sometimes, strangle him with your bare hands, shoot him - anything.
But there's another part of you that hated those thoughts (even though you'd probably wouldn't actually kill him). Sometimes you thought to yourself;Â What if you don't actually hate him? "What if you and him actually got to know each other? What if there could be something more between you two?
You push the thoughts away, drinking some more wine. Jungkook's a good fuck. The best fuck. You don't need more, neither do you want more. You just need him to relieve your stress and give you pleasure. But unfortunately, tonight he isn't coming.
You walk to your bedroom, lay on your bed and stare at the ceiling, trying not to think about how empty your bed feels since Jungkook isn't in it. You try not to imagine him on top of you, pinning you down, kissing while promising to fuck you exactly how you like it...
â˘âââŕ¨ŕ§ââââ˘
The next few days go by quickly. You haven't done much, since there wasn't a lot for you to do - other than a few errands your parents asked you to handle, or random outings with Megan.
It's been a bit boring, but rather peaceful and relaxing, the only thing that had been worrying you was the fact that you had no messages from Jungkook. Not a single text asking to see you, not a single picture from him, not even a single voice note. Usually he'd reach out at least once or twice a week, sometimes more if the week had been boring. But now there's been nothing but silence.
Throughout these days you've tried to convince yourself that it doesn't matter, you don't even care. He's busy, he's an asshole, maybe he's got his dick up someone else. It's fine. Good for him. It doesn't bother you. You don't need him.
Except you do need him. And that's been abundantly clear every time you touched yourself and failed to bring to yourself even a quarter of the pleasure he brings to you.
By Thursday evening you were feeling rather miserable, and to make your matters worse, your phone buzzed with a message.
Mother : Sweetheart, we have another event this Saturday. Your father insists we all attend together. Dress appropriately.
You groan loudly. Yet another night of forced smiles, politics and fake performances. You're so tired of it, you almost tell your mother that you're in no mood to attend when you remember something. Jungkook will be there, of course he will. None of the Jeons ever miss prestigious events, they show up to these things as if it's the biggest blessing.
You're itching to see Jungkook. He hasn't said anything in longer than usual, so you're very curious about his whereabouts. On Saturday night you'll corner him somewhere quiet and kick him in his groin and demand he tell you why he's been ghosting you.
â˘âââŕ¨ŕ§ââââ˘
It's finally Saturday night. You're standing in front of your mirror assessing how you look. You look beautiful, wearing a long, emerald-coloured dress with the neckline dipping enough to show some cleavage and a slit that shows your thigh every time you take a step. Your hair is let down and you've touched up with just a bit of make-up. You look perfect, but inside, you're far from it â you're feeling nervous.
Once you reach the venue with your parents, you enter and take your seats. As discreet as possible, you start scanning the crowd. The Jeon table is already occupied. Mr Jeon sitting beside his wife, along with some of their other family and advisors, but no Jungkook. Your heart drops. Jungkook is always here, he'd never miss such events.
You force your gaze away and accept a glass of champagne from a passing server. Your mother says something to you, but you barely register her words, since your mind is completely elsewhere. Where the fuck is he?
You keep your eyes forward as the elderly host welcomes all the guests. For the next couple of minutes you watch as people converse with one another. Watching as you sit alone, hoping that he'll just show up soon â not because you're eager* to see him or anything! But because he really deserves to get kicked in his balls. That's all.
After a while, the doors open again. You turn your attention to the late arrivals, and there Jungkook is. Painfully looking as handsome as ever in a black tuxedo with his hair a little messy, just as you like it. His movements cause multiple heads to turn to him and look at him with either respect, admiration or envy.
But he's not alone. A woman is clinging to his arm. She's beautiful and elegant-looking wearing a silky pink gown that hugs her curves. She leans into Jungkook as they walk, her head tilted on his shoulder, and he... he's smiling at her. Smiling at her as if she's the most interesting thing in the room.
The glass of champagne freezes halfway to your lips. They walk over to the Jeon family table together. When Jungkook's mother sees them, the warmest smile spreads across her face. She stands to greet the woman, lightly kissing both her cheeks. "So lovely to see you again, darling." she says clearly enough for everyone around them to hear. The girl smiles back sweetly and lets Jungkook guide her into the seat right beside him.Â
A cold shiver runs down your spine. You force your gaze back to the stage to whatever the host is talking about. Your fingers tighten around your glass, you're certain it might break. A few minutes later, you glance back at Jungkook, he glances at you too, making brief eye contact before he looks away. He looks away as though so very recently, he did not fuck you so passionately, so needily.
Your blood turns to ice. Is this why he ghosted you? He found himself a real girlfriend? One who he can bring to fancy events. Someone who his mother clearly approves of. Someone who isn't a secret he has to hide. You want to walk over there, yell at him and beat the shit out of him, but how can you?
Despite all the anger you're currently feeling, buried deep beneath, something you don't want to acknowledge is that you may be hurt. But of course, you tell yourself that you don't care who else he fucks, who he dates because you hate him. And right now you hate him more than ever.
You don't look at him again, you keep your eyes anywhere but him. Though many times, you've gotten the feeling of him looking at you.
You look completely unbothered, but mentally you're cursing him. Piece of shit. How dare he?
The event isn't even halfway done when you watch movement in your peripheral vision. Jungkook and the girl are standing. He murmurs something to his mother before offering the woman his arm again, she takes it with a smile. He walks her toward the exit with his hand on her lower back as she continues clinging to him.
You endure the rest of the event with your parents, until it's time to go home.
â˘âââŕ¨ŕ§ââââ˘
The days after the event were unbearable for you, and unfortunately for everyone around you as well. You were being rather bitchy to your assistants, your mother and anyone else really. Everyone has been getting the worst of your mood swings.
One of the days, you had printed a booklet filled with pictures of Jungkook's face so you could use them on dummies at your family's private shooting range to practise your headshots. And not so surprisingly, you had blown the heads off of all the dummies. At a sparring session, you had taped one of the pictures to the punching bag and beat it up, vividly imagining that it actually was Jungkook
A few nights after that, as if he was trying to get under your skin, he had the audacity to message you.
Jungkook : you up? Can I come over.
The audacity that this man has astounds you. You type messages swearing at him before deleting them, deciding to be mature and block him instead.
the following evening you sit at your desk and decide to pour your rage into pages. You describe your male as very similar to Jungkook (which you often do) and describe the female lead as similar to you. In your little story, the female lead becomes aggravated with the male and ends up trying to physically harm him.
Somehow, things end up becoming even more tense between them and they share the most heated kiss, until things elevate. You write the scene until it starts to read like something too close to reality. Something too close to what you and Jungkook would end up doing.
You slam your laptop shut, telling yourself that none of those stories you've written are about him. None of the stories you've written in there are anything about the experiences you've had with him. You'd never write about him. You love to write whereas you have nothing but hate for Jungkook. It would be too ironic.
ŕ¨ŕ§
On Saturday evening, you're still feeling quite awful. You need something urgently, something to make you feel good. You reach in your freezer for some soju, just to help quiet the noise in your head. You're about to open the bottle when you hear a sound upstairs, the sound of your window opening followed by steps.
Your heart skips a beat. Nobody gets past your security, absolutely nobody.
Quietly you take one of the knives from your kitchen drawer. Your parents have made you train how to fight, you know how to use weapons, so you know exactly how to draw blood without killing.
You walk up the stairs to your bedroom. The bedroom door is cracked open; you push it open with your shoulder whilst keeping your knife raised. A hooded figure is stepping in, a figure you recognise immediately despite the darkness. Once he's properly inside, he gently closes the window.
Without hesitation, you close the distance, hook your arm around his throat from behind and yank him backwards and hold the knife firmly to his throat.
"Don't move." you warn him.
He freezes before pulling his hood down.
"Hey hey, it's me." he says quickly with his hands up. "It's just me, princess. Put the knife down."
You stare at the side of his face, remembering how he brought another woman to the event, yet still has the guts to show up here as if you're just going to allow it. Your grip on the knife doesn't loosen, instead you press it harder against his skin.
Jungkook's breath hitches and his eyebrows knit together, his confusion turning more cautious.
"Baby... what are you doing? It's me." he whispers.
You lean in closer so your lips brush his ear.
"What the hell are you doing breaking into my house?" you ask. "You think you can just come here after ghosting me?"
Jungkook swallows. "I just came to see you. I've been calling and texting, you haven't picked up once. I thought something was wrong."
You huff out a bitter laugh. "Something wrong? Yeah. You. You're what's fucking wrong, Jeon."
He blinks once, confusion mixing with his fear. He's scared, not necessarily scared of the knife being pressed to his throat (he's been threatened with worse), he's scared of you, like this.
"You blocked me?" he asks.
"Yes, I did."
He exhales through his nose. "Then why the fuck are you acting like i ghosted you on purpose? I've been-"
"Shut up." You press the knife even harder, until a thin red line appears on his skin "You're stupid for coming here. I don't want to see you. I could kill you right now and nobody would know."
His adam's apple bobs. And then faster than you can process, he twists. His forearm knocks the knife out of your hand while the other grabs your wrist tightly, causing the knife to clatter on the floor. You don't even have time to gasp when he spins you and slams you back against the wall, pinning both your hands on top of your head, using one of his hands.
He uses his body to keep you in place, his chest pressing against yours, his hips flush against yours, his thigh slotting between yours. Your breath hitches when his free hand comes up to cradle the side of your face, a bit roughly.
"Gotcha." he teases
Your heart's racing so fast, you're almost sure he can feel it.
Fuck, you love this. You hate that you do. You love the way he manhandles you, so rough and possessive, all dominating. Your body reacts before your brain can catch up, your nipples harden and you feel that little flutter in your lower belly. But even despite your growing arousal, you're still so fucking angry.
He leans in slowly, his nose brushing the side of your neck. Earlier on you had the longest bath, shaved, used the sweetest smelling soap and applied your favourite moisturizer. You've done that for yourself, to feel good. You surely did not expect Jungkook to be here inhaling your smell as if you're a drug. He exhales shakily, letting out a soft groan.
"Fuck," he curses against your throat. "You smell so good."
His kisses on your neck start off soft, then they become open-mouthed, his tongue flicking out to taste you. You gasp when he starts biting you. He goes further up to suck just below your ear, hard enough to leave a mark.
"What's wrong, princess?" he asks roughly. "You're angry. Talk to me."
You keep quiet, not wanting to answer him. He pulls back to look at you, his eyes searching yours.
"Baby..."
"Don't call me that."
He exhales through his nose again, sounding a bit frustrated. He kisses your neck again while rolling his hips against you, grinding his hardness against you causing you let out an involuntary high moan.. Jungkook pulls back to look at you again.
"Tell me what I did."
You say nothing, he waits for your answer that is not coming anytime soon. You just stare up at him. He sighs before dropping his forehead to yours.
Soft and almost pleading, he asks; "What's wrong? Why are you being like this?"
Hearing him ask what's wrong, as if he's not the source of your anger further enrages you. You're not sure what comes over you, but you do what you've been meaning to do â you knee him square in the balls.
He groans and sucks in a sharp breath, followed by a few curses. He stumbles to the side, one of his hands going down to cup himself as the other hand braces on the wall. The pain he feels is strong, but it's not excruciating. It was your intention just to hurt him a little, not to break your favourite part of him.
After the pain seems to fade, he straightens with his jaw clenched. You don't wait to see how he recovers, instead you walk towards the bedroom door, eager to get away from him. If he values his life, he better get out the same way he came in.
You make it about three steps to the door when suddenly strong arms are being wrapped around your waist, lifting you off your feet. You squeal, shocked and furious.
"Jungkook! Put me the fuck down!"
He does not listen to you, instead he carries you over to your bed and drops you face down on it. Before you can get up to swing at him, he delivers a very hard smack to your ass. Involuntarily you let out a high pitched gasp, jerking forward a bit.
The delicious sting of his smack goes straight between your legs. Fuck. You hate how your body betrays every single time. You're a sucker for his hands on you, you've always been one. You love his touches - whether they're rough or gentle, punishing you or praising you. The second Jungkook touches you, your brain short circuits and you get rather excited*
He leans over you, so his chest is pressed against your back. One knee is between your thighs to keep you spread open. He delivers another smack to your ass, this time it's even harder. You fail to hold back the moan that makes its way from your throat, it's so needy that you want to punch yourself.
"There she is." he murmurs against your ear lowly. "My princess making those pretty sounds for me."
"Fuck off." you try to say, as petty as possible. Though, it just comes out breathless.
He chuckles at that, rubbing your ass cheek softly, soothing the skin through your thin, silky shorts. His hand goes down to caress you where your thigh meets your ass cheek. He bends to press a soft, open-mouthed kiss there then a lot more.
You squeeze your eyes shut. How the hell can he do this? How can he climb through your window, man handle you, spank you and kiss you so intimately after everything?
You hate him so much right, yet you've missed him too. You've spent nights alone, dreaming of him being here, doing exactly what he's doing now. But now he's here, aching to please you and all you want to do is dig his eyes out. Jungkook shifts a bit, pressing his hips forward so you can feel exactly how hard he is.
"Been thinking about this pretty pussy nonstop. You gonna make it better, baby? Or you gonna keep being a brat and making me beg?"
You bite your bottom lip, wanting to do both of those options. But you're still feeling petty so you keep quiet instead, not giving him any answer.
He lets out a long, frustrated exhale. "You're really gonna do this tonight."
Again, you don't answer.
"Do you want me gone?"
"Yes."
He stops for a few seconds, breathing in and out, his cock throbbing against your ass. Eventually, he sighs deeply and pushes off you. The sudden absence of his weight on you feels awful. You didn't think that he'd actually get off.
"Fine," he says softly. "If that's what you want."
He stands, adjusts himself and turns to your room window, walking toward it. Once you hear him opening it, panic claws its way up your throat. You roll over fast.
"Jungkook. Wait "
For a while, he stands there for a moment, with his back turned to you. Slowly, he turns back to face you, his eyes meeting yours, you notice that he looks a little hurt.
"I'm not gonna force you. If you want me gone, I'll go."
You stare up at him with your chest tight. You want him to stay, you need him to stay, and you hate the fact that you do.
"Don't go." you whisper.
Jungkook sighs, walking back over to you. You're looking up at him with the prettiest expression he's ever seen. Your eyes are a little glassy, your lips slightly parted. The look undoes him, makes him weak, so fucking weak. He's faced dangerous men who've had loaded guns pressed to his forehead, and even then he'd been okay. But with you - you unravel him in ways he never thought were possible.
He stops right in front you. He reaches out, his knuckles grazing your jaw. His hand opens to cup the side of your face as his thumb caresses your bottom lip. Your breath hitches, he uses the opportunity to press the tip of his thumb inside your mouth. Your lips close around it gently first before you start sucking and twirling your tongue around it while maintaining eye contact with him.
Jungkook swallows hard, his other hand balling into a fist at his side as if he's trying to hold himself back from grabbing your hair and yanking you down to suck onto something else.
"What's the matter, baby?" he asks rough, yet tenderly. "You've been so mad ever since I came."
He pulls his thumb free with a wet pop, brings it to his own mouth and licks your spit off it with his eyes locked onto yours. You stare back at him, your mouth opening and then closing, still holding back your answer.
Jungkook sighs again softly before leaning down close. So close that his nose brushes yours.
"Can I kiss you?" he asks.
You give him a confused, almost amused look. How dare he act polite now after spanking your ass the way he did?
Your lips pout just a little - enough for him to understand what you're saying. He grins, closing the distance. The kiss starts off gentle and soft. But you're not in the mood for his gentleness or softness. Your hands fly up to his hoodie, bringing him closer to insert your tongue into his mouth whilst kissing him harder.
He lets you dominate for a few seconds until he takes control as usual. His hand makes its way to the back of your neck, threading into your hair to tilt your head exactly where he wants it. His other hand goes to your waist, pulling you flush against him. He kisses you like he's trying to suffocate you, it's filthy and possessive. His tongue thrusts into your mouth making you whimper into his mouth. He sucks onto your bottom lip, nips on it then soothes it with his tongue
You try to fight for dominance â pushing against his chest, trying to change the angle, trying to get control. Jungkook just tightens his grip, growls low in throat and keeps dominating you. Until the memory of him walking into that event with that woman on his side, smiling with her, being glued to her, his mother beaming at her as if she's her future daughter-in-law - the memory hits you, ugly and unwelcomed. You bite down hard on Jungkook's lip.
He winces and breaks the kiss with a hiss, a little bit of blood blooms on lip. He looks at you with something dark and wild in his eyes, before suddenly placing his hands on your hips and flipping you onto all fours with effortless strength. You squeal, surprised. Before you can snap at him, his fingers find the waistbands of your shorts and your underwear underneath and pulls them down.
They pool at your knees, so now you're presented to him with your bare ass up, back arched and pussy glistening. He groans before leaning down to sink his teeth into one of your ass cheeks, biting on it as revenge.
You gasp and moan loudly at the same time. "Jungkook-"
He soothes the mark almost immediately, kissing his bite mark softly.
"Payback." he says against your skin.
He leans down lower, spreading you wider with his hands before latching his mouth on you. He doesn't start off slow, he licks you from your entrance to your clit greedily. You cry out loudly, your hips bucking back against his face.
He groans into you as if you're the best thing he's ever eaten. Because you are. He missed this â he missed you. Missed the way you taste, missed the way you get so wet for him, missed the you sound. He eats you out like he's starving. His lips latch onto your clit, sucking softly then becoming harder, thrusting his tongue into your entrance, while his tongue nudges your clit every time.
You're loud, you're always extremely loud. Moans escaping you loud and needy. "Jungkook- fuck. Right there, don't stop."
He hums against you, the vibrations turning you on even more. His hand grips your thigh tightly, holding you in place to prevent you from moving an inch from his mouth. After a very few minutes, you're shaking, moaning even louder.
"Jungkook- I'm- ah."
Jungkook always knows when you're close. He doubles his efforts, sucking and tongue fucking you even harder until you're releasing while moaning his name. He doesn't stop. He keeps licking you up slowly until you're whimpering softly. He pulls back to breathe, before leaving a few pecks on your swollen and sensitive pussy
He straightens and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. You turn over so you can watch him. He reaches behind his neck to pull his hoodie over his head, his shirt follows afterwards.
You missed this sight more than you'd ever admit. The sight of Jeon Jungkook standing near your bed shirtless, flushed, looking so lustful. He's definitely the most attractive man you've ever seen â handsome, tall, muscular, tatted. You can't look away from him.
He catches you staring, his eyes darken and he gives you a small smirk. His hands move to his belt so that he can unbuckle it and put it aside. He pulls down the zip on his pants and pulls his pants down, along with his boxers. His cock springs free, hard, thick and leaking at the tip.
You get off the bed, getting to your knees. Your mouth waters and your pussy clenches at the thought of having him in your mouth as soon as possible. At this moment all you think of is how you're about to give him the best head. You're concerning yourself with the event, with the other woman, nothing.
You wrap your hand around his thick cock and guide the tip to your mouth. Your tongue swirls around it, licking and swallowing the precum. Jungkook hisses through his teeth. One of his hands finds the back of your head - not controlling your movements, just holding instead.
"Ah fuck, good girl..." he breathes.
You hum around him, content at the praise. You know he likes it so you take him deeper and hollow your cheeks as you suck on him. You've given him head countless times so over time you've learnt how to give him the most enjoyable time.
You're pleasuring him exactly the way he likes â deep throating with saliva dripping down your chin. Jungkook's hips start jerking, chasing your mouth as you start bobbing your head.
"Just like that." he groans.
His free hand finds yours near his thigh and he intertwines them together.
"You're taking me so well, princess."
You moan around him, high and needy. Again, loving his praise. You pick up the pace, going faster until wet, slurping sounds fill the room. Saliva drips down your chin onto your chest, but you don't stop, you suck him deeper until your eyes water. Jungkook's losing it. His hand grips your hair tightly now as he thrusts into your mouth as gently as he possibly can.
"Gonna come-" he pants. "You want it down your throat?"
You answer by twirling your tongue around him, trying to take him impossibly deeper. He groans as he comes hard, down your throat. You swallow it as your head still bobs slowly. Jungkook curses under his breath.
When he finally stops pulsing, you pull off slowly until the tip is out your mouth with a string of saliva still connecting your mouth to him. You look up at through your slightly wet lashes, he stares down at you with an unreadable look.
You stand up slowly and sit back on the bed, propping yourself on your elbows. Jungkook stands there frozen for a few moments. Fuck, you're gorgeous. Eyes watery, chin wet, hair messy. He wants to tell you, wants to drop to his knees and tell you that you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, that just looking at you makes his heart flutter, that he'd climb through your window every night if he could, just to see you for five minutes.
But the small ache that's still there in balls reminds him that you'd probably knee him again if he tried to be soft with you. So he doesn't speak, he just climbs onto the bed, hovering over you. He kisses you filthy and hungry. Your tongues slide together, tasting each other. Both of you moan and groan into each other's mouths animalistically.
It's one of your nastiest make-out sessions yet - teeth clashing, tongues colliding. He sucks onto your tongue, pulls it between his lips and thrusts his tongue into your mouth. He grinds against you causing his cock to slide against your inner thigh.
You arched up into him, nails digging into his shoulders, trying to pull him closer. He breaks the kiss to lift your camisole top up so it bunches at your arms. He doesn't pull it completely off yet, he just leans down and licks between your cleavage. He comes back to lick one of your nipples, sucking it into his mouth.
You gasp, back arching off the bed and fingers flying to his hair. He groans around your nipple before switching to your other breast. He sucks and bites on it, making sure to leave his marks on you. As he sucks on the one, he palms the other, squeezing while using his thumb to play with your nipple.
"Gonna fuck you so good tonight." he mumbles roughly. "Gonna ruin this pretty pussy so every time you walk you'll remember I was here, so you remember that you're all mine."
You love this side of him. You love how possessive he sounds over you, how he praises you, but the words do not sit right with you tonight. 'Mine.' When he walked into that event with someone else by his side. The anger suddenly surges back, but you don't say or do anything yet. You know how you're going to torment him and you're about to enjoy it more than anything.
Jungkook pulls your camisole off completely, tosses it somewhere then gets his pants and boxers off. He's completely naked now. He settles between your thighs while he keeps kissing you wherever he can reach â on your throat, your collarbone and between your breasts.
One of his hands reaches down to wrap around his length, guiding himself to your entrance. He nudges the tip through your folds, teasing the both of you and he smears his precum with your wetness until you're both softly groaning. He looks down at you, his eyes dark and wild and lustful.
"You want me, baby?" he asks, his voice rough and heavy with restraint.
You stare up at him, your nails now digging into his shoulders a bit angrily. Instead of answering him, you lift your hips, trying to slide yourself down onto him, taking him slowly. Jungkook curses and pushes in the rest of the way, stretching you open until he's buried all the way.
You both freeze for a second, breathing in each other's air. After a short while, Jungkook starts to move into you. His hands find yours and he intertwines them above your head. He pulls out then sinks in even deeper with a loud groan.
"Fuck." his forehead drops down onto yours and his eyes flutter shut. "This is the best feeling in the world. Nothing comes close to this.
He truly means it. To him there's nothing better than being buried inside you and feeling you wrap around him. It's addictive to him, he could spend the rest of his life buried in your pussy and be the happiest man on Earth.
You're soaking wet, allowing him to thrust into you with ease. He moves slowly at first, pulling out and pushing back in, until he goes deeper and harder. Fucking you in the way that drives you insane for him.
By now you're moaning, unfiltered and needy. Your nails rake down his back, hard enough to leave your marks on him. Your legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into his lower back to pull him deeper.
Jungkook loves how you get when he fucks you. He loves how needy you get, how pretty you sound. He doesn't know why it gets him so hard and turned on, why hearing you fall apart because of him makes him feel so possessive over you. Jungkook wishes he could experience this feeling forever. Just you and him, being so intimate and desperate for each other.
"Listen to you." he groans against your ear, fucking you harder now. "So loud for me. Taking me so well."
You're enjoying this way too much. Jungkook is being so perfect tonight. He's rough and praising â just the way you love him. You can feel him everywhere, on top of you, inside of you, surrounding you.
This has to be one of the best fucks you and him have ever had. Maybe it's because you're angry at him, and maybe it's because you felt something you'd hate to admit when you saw him with that woman. Maybe those are reasons why you're enjoying it so much, it's because a part of you is glad that he's here, pleasuring you.
But even as you melt under him and the pleasure builds, your mind still wanders off to places you wish it wouldn't. What if he fucks that woman like this? What if he whispers the same filthy praises in her ears? What if he tells her that being inside of her is the best thing ever?
Your nails grip into his back harder, with a small intention to hurt him. To make your marks on him even more visible and obvious. Jungkook hisses, both in pain and pleasure. His pace increases as if you marking him turns him on more.
"Fuck, mark me up, baby." he pants. "Let everyone know who I belong to."
You almost let out a bitter laugh, because it sounds so ironic. Purposely, you clench around him hard, pussy fluttering tightly around his cock causing Jungkook's perfect rhythm to stutter. A moan escapes Jungkook and his hips jerk forward.
"Fuck â don't - don't do thatâ"
He loves when you do that, when you squeeze tightly, clenching around his cock, trapping him inside you. But on the downside, it makes him come way too fast â embarrassingly fast. Every time you do it, he begs you to stop. His hips thrust forward as he pant.
"Baby stop. I'm gonna â "
You do not stop, instead you clench and unclench around him until he's groaning loudly and releasing into you. He buries his face in your neck, hips bucking as he comes with a curse.
When it's over he stays there breathing hard with his hands still laced with yours. The bliss for him does not last. He lifts his head slowly and looks at you, realising that he hasn't made you come. You're just looking at him with something mean in your eyes. Jungkook's eyebrows knit together.
He does not like this. He never ever likes coming before you. It feels wrong, like he failed you somehow. He always wants you to come first, or at least to come with him. That's how it should be. Your pleasure before his own. Your pleasure is his priority.
He pulls out slowly and braces himself on his forearms above your head. "Baby..." you notice he sounds quite pissed off. "What the fuck was that?"
You blink up at him, looking like the picture of innocence. "Hmm?" you hum sweetly. "What was what?"
Jungkook stares down at you. He opens his mouth, wanting to say something. He wants to question you, wants to accuse you. He wants to ask what the hell is going on in that head of yours? Why are you doing this? He swallows his questions and leans in slowly to kiss the corner of your mouth before pulling back to look at you.
You stare at him, he's all flushed with his hair messy. You can't help but think that he looks cute like this. Way too cute for someone who can kill with his bare hands. Your heart does something stupid and infuriating. You hate him for making you feel this way.
He reaches down, grabs his discarded shirt and uses it to wipe between your thighs where his release still spills out. He tosses the shirt somewhere and lines himself at your entrance again.
You're still wet, but still, he pushes in slowly until he's deep inside. You both exhale. He stays still for a second, feeling how you're still lightly fluttering around him. He starts to move through your tight walls against your sensitive spots that he knows so well. He knows your body better than his own, so he definitely knows how to give you a good time.
You moan right against his ear and he groans lowly in response. He buries his face in your neck and starts kissing you there, open-mouthed and hungrily. You tug his hair, pulling him closer, motivating him to pick up the pace. Your breasts bounce with every one of his thrusts and Jungkook cannot stop staring at you.
"You're so pretty when you're getting fucked." he rasps.
He hooks his hands under your knees and brings your legs up over his shoulders. The new angle allows him to sink in even deeper. Your eyes flutter shut at the perplexing feeling.
Minutes pass, sweat forms on Jungkook's temple, dropping down to his jaw, making him look even hotter. His stamina is insane, he could usually go on for hours. His focus right now is on making you come all for him.
He's been very needy as of recently, since he hasn't been sexually active in a very long time, so when he feels his own pleasure building in his lower belly and his thighs starting to shake, he's not surprised.
He can feel that you're close as well, your pussy starts fluttering around him. You're so close. He brings your legs down and hooks them around his waist so he can hover over you with his forearms braced on either side of your head. He's close enough to you that you both breathe in each other's breaths. He kisses your jaw, the corner of your mouth and you cheek bone before leaning to your ear to speak roughly.
"I'm close, baby. Come with me." he whispers. "Please â wanna feel you come on my dick. Wanna come together."
Your pussy flutters around him greedily and he groans. "Fuck, yeahâ"
You're milking him hard, making his head spin. He cannot hold himself, he comes hard, burying himself inside you with a moan, his hips jerking through it. He waits, waiting to feel your walls seize him deep and gush around him. But there's nothing, absolutely nothing. You're panting and breathing heavily but you haven't released.
Jungkook processes it for a few seconds, then slowly, he pulls out. His cock is still hard, but softens now that the pleasure is being replaced by something else entirely. He braces himself on his forearm, hovering over you.
He asks, low and quite annoyed, "Are you doing this on purpose?"
Again, you look up at him innocently. "Doing that?" you tilt your head at him, faking confusion. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Jungkook clenches his jaw. He exhales through his nose, frustrated. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. You're not coming. You're holding it back just to fuck with me."
You let out a small scoff. "Maybe you're just not doing a good enough job."
The words hit Jungkook right where it hurts the most. He freezes for a few seconds. Then his eyes darken, his fingers grip the sheet as if he's trying to hold himself back. What you just told him is the worst thing you could've ever told him, it bruises him like nothing else. You've told him that he isn't good enough for you, that he could not satisfy you.
He growls low, "You fucking brat."
He roughly flips you over so you're on your stomach. You gasp and barely have time to brace yourself before he yanks you up, so you're on fours in front of him. Your face is pressed into the sheets and your ass in the air. His slaps your ass cheek hard, so hard that the sound echoes in your massive room. You yelp and moan, jerking forward.
His hand wraps around throat, tilting your head back so you're arching. He pulls you up until your back is against his chest and your head resting on his shoulder. His warm breath fans your ear. His other hand goes down to deliver a smack directly to your clit. You cry out shamelessly, pain and pleasure shooting through you.
"Stop your fucking shit." he growls against your ear. "Right now."
You laugh breathlessly, your head lolling against his shoulder. "Why? What are you gonna do about it, Jeon?"
His grip on your throat tightens slightly and his teeth graze your earlobe. "I'm gonna fuck that attitude out of you."
His hand between your thighs moves up higher, he slides two fingers through your folds, circling your clit. You whimper, melting into his touch even as you try to stay defiant.
"You think I don't know what you're doing?" he murmurs. "You think I don't know how you're trying to make me mad?"
His fingers press against your clit harder as he kisses your neck, sucking onto the marks he's left. He inserts his fingers inside you again, curling them deep. He finger-fucks you until you're panting and moaning again.
He carries on until he knows you're about to release, but still, you don't. You refuse to give him what he so desperately wants, you continue denying yourself just to spite him. You're still winning whatever fucked up game this is.
Jungkook pulls his fingers out abruptly and uses his hand to deliver another smack to clit before cupping it, feeling you throb against him. He tries to catch his breath, he's fuming at this point. What kind of torture is this?
But Jungkook being Jungkook, is not going to give up. He lines himself at your entrance again and sinks into you in a hard thrust. You moan, nails digging into his arm where it holds you across your stomach. Again, he starts fucking you, but harder and deeper now, keeping one arm securely around your waist and the other loosely around your neck.
You're so loud, whimpering and moaning softly â those sweet sounds he lives for. He goes on for long until he can feel the pleasure building for himself, warning him that he was going to come yet again but he can still feel you holding back.
He stops moving, his hips thrust forward one last time and he stays buried deep inside you. He lets out a frustrated groan as his forehead drops to your shoulder, both his hands moving to your hips now.
"What is your fucking problem?" he asks furiously, almost pleading.
For a moment, you say nothing. Then you finally let it out. "I can't stand you." you say, your own voice furious. It kind of sounds like you're at the verge of crying. "You're so stupid, Jungkook. So fucking blind. How can you be here, fucking me, when you brought someone along with you to the event? Let your mom beam at her, like she's something important to youâ"
Jungkook freezes, although his grip on your waist tightens as he processes your little outburst. After a few seconds, he huffs out a laugh against your neck.
"Is this funny to you!?" you hiss, yanking forward trying to pull away from him.
His cock almost slips out of you, but you don't make it away because he pulls you back against him so roughly, your ass recoils against his hips. You hate yourself for the pure moan that spills out of you.
Jungkook's lips brush your ear as he speaks, "You're jealous." he says, smug and delighted.
"I'm not jealous." you spit, rageful. "I hate you. I hate that you think you just parade with someone else, then climb through my window like I'm yours to fuck whenever you want me."
"Oh, princess." he pulls out and thrusts inside you. "You are still mine. And yeah, I brought someone else to the event. She's just a family friend. An old arrangement my mom's been pushing for years. She doesn't mean shit. I don't want her, baby."
"Bullshit."
He presses a soft, tender kiss to the side of your neck. "You think I'd risk everything, my reputation, my life â just to be someone who isn't you?" his tone turns serious, losing the smugness. "You're the only person I want."
You're speechless, not believing what you just heard. But of course, you're not going to admit how happy his words have made you, so instead you clench around his cock hard. He winces and his hips jerk forward.
"Fuck." he grunts, letting out a ragged breath.Â
He sucks another mark onto your neck while rolling his hips into you.
"You think I look at anyone else the way I look at you?"
He thrusts into you deeply again, making you moan and arch your back.
"You're the only one," he growls, leaning down to nip at your earlobe. "The only one who makes me this stupid, this weak. This fucking desperate."
He punctuates each sent with a thrust before sticking to the perfect rhythm that has you moaning his name. He removes the hand from your throat and brings it down to your breasts to knead them.
"Look at these tits. So fucking perfect." he groans. "You know how many times I jerked off thinking about them?"
He pinches one of your nipples, making you whimper before he soothes it.
"You're so tight," he continues, his hips carry on thrusting in and out of you. "So wet, so fucking greedy. No one else feels like this."
He sucks more marks onto your neck while his hand goes down to rub your clit, causing you to cry out his name.
"Jungkookâah"
Fuck. He wants those sounds in his mouth, he wants to swallow it, he wants to taste you. He grabs your face with his other hand, turning it to give you a messy kiss. He pushes his tongue inside your mouth,exploring and swallowing your pretty sounds.
Jungkook doesn't even understand what he wants anymore. All he knows is that he wants all of you. He never wants to ever pull out, he just wants to spend the rest of his life buried deep inside of you. His thrusts become even more relentless. He pulls out almost all the way before slamming back in. He puts a hand on your hip, pulling you against him to meet his thrust.
You're fluttering around him wildly, more than usual. Your breathless words become incoherent now, making Jungkook dizzy.
"Come on, baby." he growls against your mouth. "Come for me. I need to feel you."
You shamelessly scream his name as you gush around him. Warm liquid drips down his cock, soaking his thighs and sheets. Jungkook's eyes open wide as he feels the sensation, the wetness drenches him from the base to the tip. His thrusts stutter as he continues slamming into you
"Oh fuckâ"
Jungkook is gone. He must be in paradise.
He releases, burying himself as deep as possible, coming into you while panting. He carries on going while you tremble and whimper beneath him.
When it finally ends, he collapses over you, his forehead on your back. He stays inside of you, not being able to out since you're still fluttering around him.
Jungkook is astounded. After a moment, he finally speaks. "Fuck... you just squirted all over me."
You immediately stiffen, feeling a sudden sense of embarrassment. You try to squirm away, but he tightens his hold on you, staying inside of you. You bury your face into your pillow and let out a mortified groan. Jungkook softly kisses your shoulder and then your neck.
"That was the hottest fucking thing ever." he rasps against you. "I'm gonna make you do it again and again."
You whimper, wanting to protest, but deciding against it, because you know that once Jungkook wants something, he's determined to get it. Especially if it revolves around you.
â˘âââŕ¨ŕ§ââââ˘
Minutes later, the room is quiet. Jungkook lay on his back, an arm over his eyes, the other resting on his stomach. The sheets are damp beneath him, but it doesn't bother him. He stares at the ceiling, thinking.Â
He turns his head to look at you. You're laying on your side, facing away from him with a blanket covering half your naked body. Jungkook looks at you in pure admiration and desire. He could go again right now. Slide inside you from the back and go for another round or two, but he decides not to â he's a bit tired and you must be even more.
The distance between the two of you feels wrong, he wants your bodies to be touching, he wants contact with you. He shifts over, closing the gap until your back is pressed against his chest. He puts his arm over your waist, bringing you closer to him. You let him pull you close until your ass is nestled perfectly in between his thighs. He buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent â you smell like your sweet body wash, sweat, sex and mostly him. He kisses your neck a few times.
"Why're you so away from me?" he asks, against you.
You sigh. "I feel gross." you admit.
"I don't." he kisses under your jaw softly. "I feel incredible."
He caresses your stomach soothingly. "But I do think you should pee. And we should shower."
"Yeah..." you say.
He kisses your shoulder one more time before standing up. "Come on." he lets out his hand for you to take.
You take his hand, letting him pull you up. Your legs are wobbly so he steadies you by holding you and guiding you to the bathroom. Once in the bathroom, Jungkook opens the taps, making sure that the temperature is perfect for you, while you pee.
After you're done, you step past him and into the shower. He follows after you. The hot water cascades over you, it feels absolutely amazing. Jungkook squeezes some of your body wash into his hands, planning to wash you. But you shrug him off, not wanting him to touch you.
His hands fall away. He takes a moment to look at you. You look really tense as if something is wrong. As much as he wants to, he doesn't try to get you to tell him. He just stands under the shower next to you and washes himself as well.
Once you're both done, you turn off the tap. Jungkook grabs a towel and wraps it around you. He then gets two more, one to wrap around hips and the other for your wet hair.
"Thanks." you tell him
He nods before following you out the bathroom and back to your bedroom. The sheets are a disaster so he takes them off, dumps them into the laundry basket and puts new ones on the bed.
Jungkook glances at you every now and then, watching as you dry your hair with a stoic expression. He finds his discarded boxers and puts them on before getting into bed with a tired sigh.
He watches you pull over a silky, short sleep dress and tie up your hair. You look like something out of a fever dream. A little ruined, his marks all over you, limping a little. You're so beautiful.
You get into the bed next to him, laying on your side, facing him now. None of you speak, you just stare into each other's eyes.
After a while you speak. "When did you start being so... affectionate?"
He raises an eyebrow at you, amused.
"Most of the time you just fuck me and leave, or I leave. You don't stay, hold me or do any of this."
Jungkook gives you a small smirk and moves closer to you, putting an arm around your waist to pull you against him so that there's absolutely no space between you. He dips his head to peck your lips then looks at you again.
"I feel bad.. For making you think that there was someone else."
You snort softly in disbelief.
"Although," he smirks. "You being jealous was so adorable."
You smack his chest. "I was not."
He hums sceptically. "Sure you weren't."
"I was not."
"Uh huh."
You glare at him, half-heartedly. He tightens his hold on you, pulling you even closer to make you snuggle against him.
"Goodnight, baby."
"Goodnight, Jungkook."
ŕ¨ŕ§
The next evening comes quickly. Jungkook snuck out of your room early in the morning, making sure that nobody had seen him. Before leaving, he cradled your face in his hands and kissed you deep and desperately, asking you to unblock him and text him when you can. After he left, you felt a great sense of relief, but also missed him.
The rest of the day went by sprightly. You made yourself a delicious breakfast, you wrote and took a heavenly bath. Around six, your mother texted you, telling you to come by for dinner and to dress elegantly. You chose a beautiful outfit and got ready.
Soon, you're arriving at your family's estate, walking inside your childhood home to the dining room. When your mother sees you, she stands up and walks over to you.
"Sweetheart, there you are." she kisses your cheek before leading you to the table.
Your eyes wander over the scene before you. Your father sits at the table, across Mr Kim* and Mrs Kim, both of them looking sophisticated as always. And beside the, Sits a guy around your age.
He's tall, handsome, almost bewitching, you find yourself staring at him for a few seconds too long. You vaguely recognise him. He's Taehyung, heir of the Kims.
Your mother squeezes your waist gently and a little too enthusiastically. "Y/N, you remember the Kims?"
You nod politely, faking a smile.
"This," your mother says excitedly, "is their son, Taehyung. Taehyung, this is our daughter."
Taehyung stands. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you properly." he says, sounding rather amused.
"Likewise."
Your mother beams, looking between the two of you. "Why don't you sit, darling? Dinner's almost ready."
You nod and walk over to the table, taking a seat. Taehyung slides into the chair next to you and you catch the scent of his cologne, it's almost identical to Jungkook's, though you find Jungkook's much more preferable.
Your father clears his throat before raising his glass to make a toast. "To family and legacy."
Everyone raises their glasses and clinks together. Your mother waits until the clink fades, before she speaks.
"Sweetheart... we wanted to tell you this in person."
You stare at your mother with a poker face, though your awful suspicion grows. You want to throw up when your mother actually confirms your fear.
"Taehyung is your fiancĂŠ."
hii pookies, i worked so so so hard on this! i hope you guys enjoyed itđŠˇif you're interested, you can find part two on my patreon. either as a normal product â Best mistake 02 or on my membership tier â rkive (comes with other benefits, i will be posting everything on here first, along with extras in the future. feel free to check it out). also, ios users please try purchasing via the web to avoid paying extra fees. and once again, if you guys do support me, please know that i sincerely appreciate you <3
warnings â y/n's kinda emotional, mentions of period sex, possessive and kinda crazy jk, multiple rounds, multiple orgasms, mentions of oral, fingering, praising, jk makes out with her pussy, deep and rough sex, boob sucking, explicit language, i cannot mention a few things as it will spoil the story lol, but there's drama and a lot of cracking, etc...
Jungkook, the man every sane woman wants, has his eyes set on you only. He's willing to drop to his knees, fall at your feet and worship the ground you walk on. if only you'd stop messing around, and just be his officially.
genre â fwb au, unrequited loveÂż, smut, fluff.
pairing â jungkook x fem reader.
warnings â little bit yandere, again, pussy-whipped, obsessed, desperate jk, penetrative sex, oral (y/n receives), house breaking, a little bit of stalking, a lot of orgasms, mentions of multiple rounds, jk slurps while eating her coochie, pervy possessive jk, he's a little delusional, he sniffs her panties đ, jealous jk, well most of the story is about jk is being desperate for y/n's love, car sex, y/n rides him, oh and big dick jk, etc.
wc â 8k+ (snippet 1,7k)
as self-centred as soojin is, she would give Jungkook her whole entire world, she'd give up anything and everything for him if he'd ask. chloe, as a petite as she is, would move mountains if it meant getting into his heart. maya, as confident as she is would change her way of living if it meant pleasing him. actually every single old love interest in his life would orbit around his axis if he wanted them to. but they were not really love interests to Jungkook. no, they were merely distractions. distractions from the woman who could own him in any way possible. the one woman he longs for with such desperation. the woman he's obsessed with in a way he should understand is unhealthy.
you. his beautiful, smart, sexy, perfect woman. you're not officially his yet, but he needs you to be or else he'll probably lose his mind.
Jungkook's life would be so euphoric if only you felt the same way he did. but you don't and just thinking about it is enough to depress Jungkook. he has it all â the looks, the confidence, the figure, the money. so why can't you just like him as much as he likes you? not to say he doesn't work for your love. he does. he works so fucking hard for it, without trying to embarrass himself too much, of course.
he does various things, trying to prove it to you, obvious actions that practically sing about how much he wants you. but you just can't seem to get the hint, can you? or maybe Jungkook's current worst fear is true. you know how he feels but you just don't care. that thought causes Jungkook's heart to tighten in his chest. he likes the first option, so that is the one he chooses to believe. as ignorant as Jungkook is, the intellectual part of him questions it. how can you not know how he feels for you when he does everything a guy in love would do? for a few examples, he cares for your likes and ambitions, he changes his busy schedules just to accommodate yours, he takes care of you when you're sick, he's constantly checking up on you when you aren't with him, he buys you flowers and chocolates. he makes the best love* to you, just like he is right nowâŚ
Jungkook grunts through gritted teeth as he thrusts as deep as humanly possible into you, hitting the perfect spot inside you that makes you let out a breathless, high moan of his name. the sweet sound you've made under him only motivates him to do it again and again. Jungkook thrusts his massive cock into your pussy, keeping his pace fast, hard and a little rough â just as you like it. your nails dig into his broad shoulders and rake down his back, causing it to sting. Jungkook groans at that, knowing it's going to leave marks on him. Jungkook loves any form of possession you show over him, he loves when you leave marks on him or tell him that he's yours. it's as if you know the power you have over him and you can see how badly you affect him.
Jungkook is one strong man, yet you have the ability to make him the weakest and most pathetic on earth. before you walked into his life, things were normal. he had gotten into short situationships, he fucked whoever he wanted, he could do whatever he wanted without you being in his every thought. but after he understood the depth of his feelings for you, things had become complicated and absurd. after a while, Jungkook could no longer live his life the way he used to. he couldn't fuck anybody else, he couldn't touch anybody else, he couldn't even bring himself to look at a woman who wasn't you. it would feel like he's cheating, cheating on you and cheating on himself â cheating on himself because you're a part of him, a big crucial necessity in his life. it shouldn't make sense, but it does to him. you're the other half of his soul, you just don't feel it like he does, as yet.
at the thought of his seemingly unrequited romantic feelings, Jungkook thrusts into you even harder than before, earning him a sweet gasp from you. he hums at the sound before watching you, your eyes are almost rolling to the back of your head and you look so heavily cock-drunk. well of course you'd be, this is the sixth? seventh round? Jungkook's hands that had been on either side of your head now move â one grips your hip, feeling your soft skin and the other goes to the back of your neck to guide your face to his, to meet him in a kiss. His kiss immediately starts off passionate, wet and filthy. you eagerly kiss him back, moaning into his mouth when his tongue slides into yours. you kiss him with equal fervour as he pounds into you so good.
you break away from the kiss, a string of saliva joining your lips to his. you keep your eyes open and on his, gazing up at him. he's sweaty and staring down at you with dark, hungry, heavy-lidded eyes. he looks so fucking hot, you're so grateful to have this beautiful man fucking the living daylights out of you, looking at you with such need. but beneath all the lust, you think that you notice something else. it looks so sincere, so precious. you think hard what it is you see there. you might have an idea, but that's just preposterous. right?
you don't dwell on that forbidden thought, since your seventh orgasm of the night is approaching. your moans become louder and you start clenching around Jungkook's cock. he thrusts become sloppy but he still keeps the animalistic pace, wanting to make sure your approaching orgasm is as good as the previous ones â maybe even better.
"f-fuck," he groans. "you feel too good, baby. always feel too good."
his praises always have your head spinning and pussy throbbing. your nails dig into his back as you mumble incoherent nonsense. you're on cloud nine, just as you usually are when Jungkook fucks you. he's the best you've ever had in bed, you wish you could be full of his cock every day and night.
"kâkook," you gasp.
"hmm?" he hums, looking at your parted lips and hazy eyes.
"gonna come." you mutter shakily.
Jungkook grips your thighs with both his hands and lifts you up a little. he finds the angle that's even deeper, making you whimper and arch up, throwing your head back into the pillows.
"yeah?" he asks before leaning down to lick your now exposed neck. "me too, baby."
you're so gone and drunk on his cock, Jungkook thinks you might finally agree to what he's been wanting to do for the longest time now â to come inside you. oh fuck, the thought of it makes Jungkook want to bust immediately. he imagines filling you up with his release, fucking it back into you, watching it drip out of your pussy. he hopes you'll finally allow it. he's feeling lucky tonight, perhaps you'll allow it since your walls are clenching so hard around his pulsing cock.
"want me to come inside, hmm?" please say yes, please say yes.
"no." you say, panting.
Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek, feeling bummed. but rest be assured, he will release inside you one day.
you release first, crying out his name. he thrusts inside you a few more times before pulling out and releasing over your belly with a groan. he looks at your belly messed with his come, it's not where he wishes it was but it's still so fucking hot. after he reels from his high, he collapses beside you, staring up at the ceiling for a long while. your chest heaves and your eyes threaten to close. despite your body feeling like jelly, you decide that you really have to shower. you turn toward Jungkook, placing your hand on his chest, over his racing heart and throwing your thigh over his hip. Jungkook feels warmth spread through his body at the contact. he turns to you as well, placing a hand on your hip to tug you closer.
"can we take a shower, kook?" you ask, so soft and tired.
Jungkook smiles at how cute you sound. he'll obviously take a shower with you, he's more than happy to do that.
"yeah, baby." he says before gently kissing your forehead. "we'll go soon. I'm too comfortable to move right now."
"Jungkook the sheets are wet and i have your come on me." you state, threading your fingers through his soft hair. "let's go now and we'll come back and cuddle."
Jungkook nods, happy with that deal. he helps you out of bed and picks you up, carrying you to the bathroom since you're drained and walking on very weak legs â it's understandable, he's done a number on you. inside the shower, he steps behind you and turns on the water, setting the temperature to exactly how you like it. you lean against Jungkook and sigh in contentment as the hot water washes over your sore body. the both of you spend a long time in the bathroom â washing up thoroughly and sharing heated kisses. Jungkook initiates more intimacy by reaching between your thighs, but you smack his hand away with a little laugh, telling him that any more of this would leave you rotting in bed due to the inability to walk. he pouts but respects your decision of course.
after the shower, you both change into sleep wear and cuddle just as you've said. Jungkook brings you right against his chest, holding you tightly against him while breathing you in. he feels so full of everything nice at this moment. you're where you're meant to be, safe in his arms. he wishes that all of his nights could be like this, instead of a few nights only. he does appreciate what you do give him. after all you are the woman he loves with all his heart. he yearns for you in a way that borders on madness, so he needs all of you entirely.
note â hey pookies. i am posting the full part on my patreon first. so if you're interested in early access, you can find the link to the full part here â Tell me you love me. if you do end up purchasing, thanks a bunch i could really use the support. i will ofc also post the full thing here on Tumblr eventually!!
synopsis. as a freshly graduated college student just starting out your first job, you make a single impulsive mistake that turns out to involve sleeping with your boss! he's hot, angsty and everything you oh so desperately want need.
warnings. p in v, unprotected (wrap it up!), oral (f receiving), tittie sucking, tittie biting, fingering (one, two fingers!), oc orgasm!! kissing, multiple orgasms (m & f receiving), a tinyyyy bit of cock-warming, squirting, he finishes on her tits <3
genre / pairing. smut, angst, fluff, slooooooow burn, ceo!jungkook x marketing associate!reader, a wee bit of forced proximity
notes. banner made by the lovely @kookquettes (MY BABBYYY) anyway.. the first part of the LEAK THIS series is here... are we excited.
you refresh your email for the fourth time in three minutes. still nothing. you tell yourself to relax, that checking it again wonât magically make it appear, but you do it anyway. two days since the final interview. two days since you sat across from a panel of people who looked like theyâd never made a wrong decision in their lives and tried to convince them you deserved to be in the room. your phone lights up and your stomach twists automatically.
you werenât always aiming for this. glass buildings. corporate offices. job titles that sound impressive but donât actually explain what you do. but graduation happened whether you were ready or not, and reality followed close behind. your student discounts stopped working. your parents started asking how the job search was going in voices that tried to sound casual but really weren't. so you applied everywhere. some places seriously. some places just to prove you were trying.
jeon global was supposed to be the latter.
a long shot. a reach. the kind of application you submit and then immediately forget about because hoping would feel embarrassing. global company. brutal standards. a ceo whose name shows up in articles with words like visionary and uncompromising attached to it.
jeon jungkook.
you didnât think about the name for long when you applied. names like that donât belong to people you actually meet. they belong to headlines. concepts. men in suits who exist several floors above your reality.
your phone buzzes.
you freeze, then grab it so fast you almost fumble it. one glance at the subject line and everything else drops away.
offer letter â marketing associate
you just stare at it. like if you blink, itâll disappear. then it hits you all at once. a laugh bursts out of you before you can stop it. you clap a hand over your mouth, sit down hard on the edge of your bed because your legs suddenly feel unreliable. your chest feels too tight, too fullâ half disbelief, half relief, all adrenaline.
you open the email. itâs exactly what youâd expect: polished, professional, enthusiastic in a very controlled way. start date. salary. benefits. numbers that feel fake when you remember how broke you were not that long ago. you read it once. then again. then a third time, slower, just to make sure it still says yes.
you call your best friendâ megan, who screams so loudly you have to pull the phone away from your ear. you call your parents, who tell you theyâre proud of you in voices that sound like theyâve been waiting to say it out loud. when you hang up, the room feels strangely quiet. you sit there alone, staring at the email like it might suddenly ask something from you in return.
this is really happening.
your first night out sneaks up on you. you almost skip itâstand in front of the mirror too long, tilt your head, change earrings twice. the invite said casual, which somehow makes it worse. thereâs no script for this. no rules to hide behind. just a room full of strangers who all seem to know where theyâre meant to stand. you settle on wearing something black. simple. familiar. something that makes you feel like yourself instead of someone trying too hard to be impressive.
the venue is already alive when you arriveâ music humming low enough to talk over, laughter rising and falling in waves. itâs warm, crowded, a little overwhelming. you take a glass from a passing tray mostly so your hands have something to do. you tell yourself youâll stay an hour. youâre halfway through that promise when someone steps into the space beside you. not abruptly. not intrusively. just there, like he waited for the exact right moment.
you glance over, and forget what you were thinking. heâs taller than you expected, shoulders broad beneath a dark jacket he wears like an afterthought. no tie, collar open, sleeves pushed up like he gave up on pretending halfway through the night. his hairâs a little messy, like heâs run a hand through it too many times. he looks tired, not sleepy, but deeply restrained, like holding back has become second nature.
âyou look like youâre deciding whether to escape,â he says. his voice is warm, low, careful in a way that feels intentional.
you huff a quiet laugh. âis it that obvious?â
âonly to someone doing the same math.â
you turn fully toward him. âhave you escaped yet?â
he lifts his glass slightly. âunsuccessfully.â
conversation happens without effort, which almost feels suspicious. you talk about the party, how loud it is, how no one knows what to do with their hands, how everyone pretends theyâre more comfortable than they are. he listens like it matters, like heâs not just waiting for his turn. he doesnât flirt at first. when it starts, itâs subtle enough you almost miss it.
âyouâre very calm,â he says after a moment, eyes on you like heâs studying something delicate. âfor someone who clearly wants to bolt.â
you scoff. âiâm panicking internally.â
âmm,â he hums. âdoesnât show.â
âyou donât know me.â
his gaze dropsâ just briefly to your mouth. when it lifts again, thereâs something heavier there, something restrained. âi think i know more than youâre letting on.â your stomach tightens. annoying. inconvenient. he steps a little closerâ not touching, just close enough that youâre aware of him, aware of the way he keeps his hands wrapped around his glass like he doesnât trust them loose.
âcan i get you another drink?â he asks, then softer, âyou can say no.â
you like that he says it. you say yes anyway.
the second drink loosens somethingâ not enough to blur the night, just enough to soften the edges. you laugh more. he smiles more, still restrained, but real. you catch flashes of something heavier when he talks. pressure. expectation. the exhaustion of being wanted for the wrong reasons. he never says who he is. you tell him your name. he repeats it once, quietly, like heâs testing how it feels. you donât ask for his.
thatâs the mistake.
outside, the night air cuts through the haze. you step away from the noise, breathing deep, grounding yourself. the city hums around you, alive and indifferent. he follows, stopping a respectful distance away.
âyou okay?â he asks.
âyeah. just needed quiet.â
he watches you like heâs standing at the edge of something dangerous, jaw tight, shoulders tense. âyou donât owe me anything,â he says. âyou donât have toââ
you step closer. close enough to feel his warmth, close enough to see the conflict in his eyes. âthis feels like a bad idea,â you murmur.
his laugh is soft. hollow. âyeah.â
he doesnât move. doesnât touch you. waits.
so you kiss him.
for half a second, he freezes, like the world has short-circuited. then he exhales, slow and shaky, like heâs been holding his breath far too long. his hand comes to your waist carefully, like heâs afraid of crossing a line he wonât be able to uncross. the kiss is unhurried. deliberate. when you pull back, his forehead rests against yours.
âwe shouldnât,â he says.
you nod. âi know.â
neither of you moves away.
laterâ too late, thereâs a cab, a quiet expensive apartment, the weight of what you donât know settling in your chest. and the sharp, unmistakable feeling that whatever youâve just stepped into is going to cost you something.
"gonna let me take care of you won't you?"Â
a pleased sigh leaves your lips, while his trace along your jawline, creating a trail down to your slender neck, pressing wet, open mouthed kisses to the soft skin, "shit." you mumble for the first time since his hands landed on you, watching how his pierced lip curls into a small smirk, your bra quickly discarded and thrown somewhere in the roomâ you for one, couldnât care less.Â
not when he unclasps your bra and takes your nipple in between his lips
"holyâ" you trail off, closing your eyelids to feel wave of pleasure crashing over you, he flicks his tongue over itâ rolling the hardened nub with his wet muscle to hear your little moan. similarlyâ his fingers take your other boob into his hands, rubbing it gently,
âyou're so pretty, baby.â he husks against your skin, the air blown out of his lips causes goosebumps on your skin, and a shiver to follow down your spine.Â
the inked man, takes his time to worship your body, addicted to watching how your lips part after he flicks harder, captivated by how you whine when he pinches the opposite nipple in his fingers.
leaving your nipples with a pop, he groans at the sight of you nakedâ all perched up, boobs slick with his saliva. âsuch a slut.â he murmurs, gliding his tongue along your skin accompanying the slow, rough, wet kisses that trail down to your stomach, his hands accompany them by grazing his fingers along your waistline, down to rub small circles on the small of your hips
your fingers clutch his dark long hairâ a pool of heat, now leaking between your legs, drooling with need that has to be tended to, "fuck, feels so good baby." you tell him, body now focused on how his perfect nose was pressing against your slick lace covered clit, nuzzling into it with his eyes closed in pleasure
he lowers his lips, keeps his eyes on yours, as he presses a chaste kiss to covered clit, before moving over to your thighs, making little dewy marks that follow his journey. before removing your lace underwear, a string of wetness following. he slides his long digits through your folds. âdamn baby, youâre wetter then the fucking atlantic.â he groans. how you moan is greenlight for him to continue his sweet torture on your body.
his head dips down to run his tongue flat against your clit, slowly flicks at it with the tip of his tongue, only to lap up everything that's seeping out of your entrance, teasing you as much as he is patientâ takes his sweet sweet time to lazily circle your clit, suck at it only with a little amount of pressure, making you buck your hips, desperately aching for more contact.
"mhm.. taste so sweet." he speaks into you, burying his tongue further deeper inside of your cunt, licking fat stripes up to flick your clit faster, harder. and then add on to the pleasure he slips in two of his fat digits, fucking them into you at a inhumane pace.Â
"shitâ oh fuck. iâm gonnaâ " you choke out, barely able to form coherent sentences, closing your eyes at the feeling of his fingers and tongue bringing you to a state of no return. you swore you could see stars as your climax approached, the lewd sounds of his fingers fucking into you muted, all you could hear was how fucked your breathing was, and his deep velvety voice, âgonna cum for me aren't you baby? make a mess on my fingers?â he asks, tongue viciously attacking your delicate bundle of nerves, you pathetically nod, lips resting ajar letting moans slip through.
âbe a good girl fâme, and cum,â he says, his words encouraging enough to coax your orgasm out of youâ back arching, hands clawing at his shoulders, leaving angry, red half moons with your nails. his fingers fuck into you helping you ride out of your high.
âdid so good love.â he coos, as he withdraws his fingers from your heat, shoving them down his mouth to gather your slick in his mouth, moans once he tastes you on his tongue.Â
he was so painfully hard in his boxers desperate for a release, "let me get you off,â you whisper, he yanked his boxers down in less than a heartbeat, desperate to get your hands around his cock as quickly as he could, all he could think about was your slender fingers covered in his essence.Â
the man, now tips his head back, breathing fucked. his forehead now resting up on your shoulder, as he hums into the feeling your hands provide him with. "grip it tighter baby." he whimpers. god he was big, âa cock youâd feel for days.â you think to yourself as you pull one of your hands away, to spit on your fingers and wrap them back around his thick shaft.Â
âfeels sâgood baby, gonna nut all over your pretty little fingers.â he whines. pushes his hips up to meet your slippery palms, is utterly obsessed with the way you feel.
"ohâ fuck, baby," he whimpers when you pick up the pace, his breathing all out of sync and so terribly hot. "doing sâgood," he praises. "so good."Â
you decide to tease himâ "so needy, aren't you?"â and are ever-so-pleased when he confirms your accusation. bites down on his lips to drown out his noises.
his orgasm approaches rather quickly, he covers your slender fingers white with his slick, gets all whimpery and whines as he cums, âso cute.â you think.
the expression on his face changes, darkens âlet me fuck you, babe.â he says voice laced with need. a soft smirk rests on your pink lips, as you re-adjust your position, you lay down spread your legs wide enough for him to slide his shaft up & down your folds. grunts once at the contact before he slips into your gummy walls, whines a little as you clench around himâ keeping him warm, âuhâ wait, shitâ fuck, can we just.. stay like this for a minute.â he whimpers, and you happily comply.
his tip, now kissing your cervix, makes you whine a little when he moves to sit on his heels, eyes now fixated on your slick covered pussy and how his cock sits inside your gummy wallsâis taken out of his trance like state when you ask him to actually fuck you. he groans and starts to pick up the pace.
thrusts into you like a dog in heat, addicted to watching how your lips rest ajar, your hands resting on his stomach, eyelids shut tight.
"oh, shit," he curses. "god. taking me so well, aren't you, hmm? taking my fat cock so easily." he growls out, "oh, god," you mewl, unable to form anything coherent.Â
he continues fucking you with such a brusing pace, you swore you could feel him in your stomach, "right there, right there. fuck." you moan out, your high approaching, âi know baby, i know,â he whimpers.
he doesn't ease his thrusts. gets faster. fucks you harder, and harder, till all you could hear in the room was the sound of his skin slamming against yours. the wave crashes over you, your release was dizzing, eyes resting shut, strings of curses escaping your lips. it jolts through you, legs shaking, hot walls clenching, breathless mewls of pleasure letting him know just how well he did. he doesn't stop. pushes you further. gets you gasping for air, your delicate hands slamming against his rock hard chest begging him to stopâ he doesnât.
"this cunt... fuck." he groans.
heâs so fucking obsessed. youâre so fucking wet, whimpers are getting louder, too. the way your legs shake like a goddamn washing machine? the way you can't fucking breathe and are practically gasping for air? how your pussy is quite literally clamping his dick inside of you? it's all too much.Â
he doesnât notice until its happening, how you squirt all over him, "fucking hellll," he curses against your lips as he realises what's happening. keeps going.Â
fucks his dick into you, still. his body getting wetter, you shake, âshit, mâso close baby, where?â he whimpers.
âtits.â you respond tone barely audible
with one final trust, he pulls out and finishes on your tits, a streak of his hot cum rolls down your body causing you to shudder. âno more,â you whimper.
when you fall asleep tangled together, his arm snakes around you, holds you close as you both drift off into dream land.
you wake up slowly, disoriented before you even open your eyes. the sheets are cool where youâve kicked them aside, the room unfamiliar in a way that makes your stomach dip before your brain catches up. the ceiling is too high, too clean. sunlight spills through massive windows, pale and merciless, illuminating a space that looks less like a bedroom and more like something curated.
right.
not your place.
the memories come back in piecesâhis voice, low and careful. the way he kissed you like he was holding himself back. the cab ride, quiet but charged. you exhale and turn onto your side â
and freeze.
heâs awake, sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, phone in his hand. he looks tense, shoulders tight like heâs already been awake too long. when he hears you move, he looks over. his expression shifts instantly, something guarded sliding into place.
âmorning,â he says.
your stomach flips. âhi.â
you sit up, pulling the sheet around yourself. thereâs a strange distance between you now, like the air has changed overnight. he stands, crosses the room, hands you a glass of water without comment. it feels⌠considerate. deliberate.
âyou okay?â he asks.
âyeah,â you say. âjustâprocessing.â
he gives a small, humorless smile. âme too.â
that should be the end of it. awkward but manageable. you expect him to joke, flirt, soften the edges like he did last night. instead, he looks heavier. quieter. like somethingâs already gone wrong and youâre the only one who hasnât caught up yet.
he checks his phone again. frowns.
âwhat time is it?â you ask.
âearly,â he says, then hesitates. âi should probably tell you something.â
your pulse ticks up. âokay.â
he drags a hand through his hair, exhales slowly, like heâs choosing his words with care. âi didnât ask you much about your job.â
you shrug. âthere wasnât much to tell. i just started.â
his jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. âwhere?â
you name the company without thinking.
the silence that follows is wrong.
not awkward. not casual. wrong in a way that makes your stomach drop before your mind understands why. his face doesnât change muchâbut something shutters behind his eyes, something that looks dangerously close to regret.
ââŚright,â he says quietly.
you laugh, a nervous sound. âwhat?â
he finally looks at you fully, gaze steady, unreadable. âi work there too.â
your chest tightens. âoh. okay. i meanââ you smile. âguess itâs a small world.â
he doesnât smile back.
you watch the realization hit you slowly, like a bruise blooming under the skin. the apartment. the restraint. the way people at the party had seemed to orbit him without you noticing. the weight in his voice when he talked about pressure, about being watched.
âwhat do you do?â you ask, already afraid of the answer.
his voice is quiet when he says your name for the first time. it sounds heavier than it should.
âiâm the ceo.â
the word lands between you like something fragile shattering.
you stare at him, breath shallow. âthatâsânot funny.â
âiâm not joking.â
your head spins. images flashâ your offer letter. the articles you skimmed. the name you didnât linger on because it felt unreal.
jeon jungkook.
you stand abruptly, the sheet slipping from your grip. âyou knew.â
his voice is immediate. ânot until you told me just now.â
âyou stillââ your voice breaks. âyou still let it happen.â
his jaw tightens. âso did you.â
that shouldnât hurt, but it does.
he steps closer, then stops himself, like crossing that line would make things worse. âi wouldâve stopped it if i knew,â he says. âi swear.â
you believe him. thatâs the worst part.
âwhat happens now?â you ask.
his eyes darken, something raw surfacing. ânow i do the one thing i shouldâve done last night.â you cross your arms. âwhich is?â
he looks at you like it costs him something. âi let you walk away.â
silence stretches, thick and unbearable. he hands you your clothes, folded neatly. too carefully. like heâs afraid of touching you again. when you leave, the hallway feels colder than it did before. you donât look back, because you know if you do, you wonât like what you see in his eyes.
and as the elevator doors close, one thought settles heavy in your chestâ
the mistake wasnât sleeping with a stranger. it was sleeping with the one man who now has the power to ruin you.
you wake up too early.
your body does it before your brain has a say, like it already knows today is going to hurt. the light creeping through your curtains feels wrong, too sharp, too honest. for a few seconds, you lie there staring at the ceiling, heart already racing, and try to pretend two nights ago, you had a wet dream you can just roll over from.
it doesnât work.
your phone buzzes with a calendar reminder. first day. the words sit there, innocent and cruel. your stomach twists. you swing your legs off the bed and stand, a little unsteady, like the floor isnât quite where you left it.
everything goes wrong in small ways after that.
the shower wonât get hot enough. your hands shake when you try to line your eyes, the pencil smudging until you wipe it off entirely, frustrated. the dress you planned to wear suddenly feels wrongâtoo tight, too soft, too much. you change twice. then a third time. nothing feels like right anymore.
you catch your reflection and barely recognize her. eyes too bright. mouth set too carefully. someone who looks like she made a mistake and is trying not to show it.
you think about him without meaning to. the way his voice sounded when he said morning. the look on his face before he told you who he was. the weight of it presses against your ribs until breathing feels deliberate.
you almost donât go.
your hand hovers over your phone, thumb poised over an imaginary message you donât send. thereâs no one to call anyway. no excuse that wouldnât sound thin. you grab your bag instead, forcing your feet toward the door like momentum might carry you through.
the city feels louder than usual. harsher. every reflective surface shows you back to yourself. you tell yourself it doesnât matter. you tell yourself you can be normal. professional. fine.
you know itâs going to happen the moment you step off the elevator. the floor is quieter than you expected, muted voices, carpet swallowing sound, the kind of place where people move with purpose and never look lost. you straighten your shoulders, adjust your grip on your bag, tell yourself this is just another morning. your pulse doesnât listen.
someone says his name like itâs nothing. âheâs already in.â
your stomach drops.
you donât see him right away. youâre guided into a glass-walled conference room, laptop open, notebook placed carefully in front of you. you choose the seat closest to the door without thinking. an exit. your team murmurs around you. polite. normal. the room changes before he speaksâ chairs straighten, backs go rigid, attention snapping into place like muscle memory.
then he walks in.
jeon jungkook looks nothing like the man from last night. the suit is sharp, dark, perfectly fitted. his expression is calm in a way that feels practiced, eyes cool, distant. controlled. he doesnât scan the room, doesnât need toâ until⌠his gaze lands on you. it lasts less than a second, but itâs enough. his jaw tightens. something flickers, gone just as fast. then he looks away and takes his place at the head of the table like nothing has ever touched him.
âletâs begin.â
his voice is steady. professional. it feels like a blade.
you sit there, nodding when expected, hands folded to hide the faint tremor in your fingers. every word he says is measured, precise, like heâs built a wall and locked himself behind it. last night feels unreal here. the kiss. the hesitation. the way he fucked you open last night? none of it exists in this room.
someone asks for marketing input. your manager turns to you. âsheâs been leading the draft.â
your throat tightens. you speak anyway. your voice doesnât shake. you hate that youâre proud of that. you explain your idea, concise, careful, aware of every eye on you. you donât look at him until youâre finished.
he hasnât looked at you once.
âitâs solid,â he says finally, eyes fixed on the screen. âtighten the messaging. i want clarity, not charm.â
itâs not cruel. itâs worse. impersonal. like youâre just another variable heâs already accounted for.
the meeting ends. chairs scrape. people file out in clusters, conversation resuming like nothing significant just happened. you pack up slowly, heart pounding, pretending you donât feel exposed. when you finally glance up, the room is empty except for him.
he hasnât moved.
âyou shouldnât stay,â he says quietly, still facing the window.
âi didnât mean to,â you reply.
silence stretches, thick and uncomfortable. then he turns. the distance between you feels charged, dangerous. up close, he looks tired. not sleepyâworn. like heâs been bracing himself since dawn.
âare you okay?â he asks. the question feels loaded. you swallow. âare you?â his mouth tightens. âthis canât happen again.â it lands harder than you expect. final. controlled. like a decision already made. âi know,â you say, even though something in your chest aches at the sound of it.
his gaze betrays him for half a secondâ drops to your mouth, then snaps away like instinct. âgood.â another silence. heavier now. âwhat happened last night wonât affect your job,â he adds. âor how youâre treated here.â
you nod. âi donât want special treatment.â his laugh is quiet, bitter. âyou wonât.â you turn toward the door before your composure cracks. your hand is already on the handle when he speaks again.
âyou shouldâve asked who i was.â
you donât look back. âyou shouldâve told me.â
and the silence that follows is brutal.
you step into the hallway just as the elevator doors slide open. heâs already inside. alone. his hand hovers near the control panel, like heâs debating whether to stop them. when his eyes flick to you, something tightens in your chest.
you step in before either of you can change your mind.
the doors close.
the elevator starts its descent, smooth and quiet, and suddenly the air feels too heavy for such a small space. you stare straight ahead, your reflection in the mirrored wall looking steadier than you feelâ chin lifted, shoulders back, pretending you arenât unraveling.
he stands beside you, close enough to feel without touching. not even a brush of fabric. his restraint is deliberate. painful.
neither of you speaks.
the silence stretches, thick with everything you didnât say in that room. two days ago, he kissed you like it meant something. this morning, he looked through you like it didnât exist.
âwe shouldnât be alone like this,â he says quietly. his voice is controlledâ too controlled. like heâs been rehearsing.
you glance at him. âitâs an elevator.â
âI know.â his jaw tightens. âthatâs exactly why.â the floor numbers tick down slowly. you fold your arms, guarded. âif this was such a bad idea,â you say, âyou couldâve waited.â
his eyes stay forward. âi didnât think youâd follow me.â
that shouldnât hurt.
it does.
the elevator hums. the space feels smaller with every second. âwe need boundaries,â he says. there it is, not an apology, not an explanation. a decision.
ârules,â he adds, quieter. âclear ones.â you swallow. âokay.â
âno personal conversationsâ â he continues. âno being alone together if it can be avoided. If it canât be avoided,â he pauses, breath tightening, like even saying it costs him. âWe keep a strict business relationship.â
your fingers curl at your sides. âand what about the other night?â
his shoulders tense. âit was a mistake.â you turn fully toward him. âyou didnât treat me like one.â
his gaze snaps to yours before he can stop himself. something dark flickers there â want, guilt, frustration all tangled together.
âthatâs why this ends now,â he says. the elevator slows slightly, dragging the moment out.
âYouâre acting like this is about rules,â you say softly. âbut it isnât.â he finally looks at you properly. up close, the distance cracks. he looks wornâ not cold, not cruel. afraid. âIf anyone finds out,â he says, voice dropping, âyouâre the one who pays the price. Not me.â
the words settle heavy in your chest.
âso i pretend nothing happened,â you say.
âyes.â
âand you?â your voice is quiet now. âWhat do you pretend?â
his breath stuttersâ barely. âthat i donât think about it.â
the elevator comes to a stop. the doors slide open to a group of waiting employees, normal life flooding in without mercy.
he steps back immediately, space restored, expression locked down. CEO. untouchable. distant. he exits without looking at you.
you follow a beat later, heart pounding, hands unsteady.
by the time you get back to your desk, youâre vibrating.
not visiblyâ no one could clock it if they tried. your screen is open. your posture is fine. your face is neutral. inside, though, youâre unraveling thread by thread, replaying his voice in the elevator, the way he said rules like it was mercy instead of a sentence.
you donât even make it to lunch.
you text the group chat with shaking fingers.
you: i need to talk to someone, or i will actually spontaneously combust
megan: that bad???
mina: did u get fired already babe
you: worse
you: call. me. Now.
one second later, you get the call.
âokay,â megan says immediately. âstart talking.â you inhale. exhale. then it all spills out. âso first of allâ heâs hot.â âoh my god,â mina groans. âwhy do you always start like that.â
âno listenâ i need you to understand thisâheâs not just hot. heâs unfairly hot. like emotionally dangerous hot. like looks-at-you-like-heâs-judging-himself hot.âÂ
âthis is already not helping,â megan mutters.
âanywayyyyy. i meet him at the company party. i think heâs justâ some guy. flirty. quiet. a little sad. which shouldâve been my first red flag but no. iâm stupid. so we talk. we drink. we kiss.â
mina makes a noise that sounds like sheâs sitting up straighter. âyou kissed a stranger at a work event??â
âYES BUT WAITâ it gets worse.â
âit always does,â megan says calmly. âwe go back to his place.â thereâs a beat of silence. âyou went home with him,â mina says slowly. âyes. i did. and before you say anythingâit was consensual, it was fine, it wasââ you stop, groan, drag a hand down your face. âit was good. okay. too good.â
âi hate this for you already,â megan says. âfast forward to the morning. we wake up. weâre talking. normal. awkward. whatever. and then i tell him where i work.â
another pause. longer this time.
ââŚno,â mina says.
âyes.â
megan swears. âno no no noââ
âheâs the ceo,â you say flatly. âthe ceo. jeon jungkook. THAT jeon jungkook. my ceo. the one with articles. and interviews. and a name people say like itâs a brand.â
mina groans loudly. âyou slept with your bossâs bossâs boss??â
âI DIDNâT KNOW,â you say, defensive and miserable. âhe didnât tell me.â
âdid he know?â megan asks.
ânot until i said it. he looked like someone punched him. i swear. like instant regret. Whichâ fine. whatever. but todayââ
you start pacing again, faster now.
âtoday he acts like i donât exist. full corporate mode. ice cold. and thenâafter the meetingâwe get stuck in an elevator.â
âSTOP,â mina says. âyouâre lying.â
âi wish i was. he sets rules. RULES. no personal conversationsâno being aloneâstrictly professionalâlike heâs my parole officer.â
âoh thatâs sexy in a deeply infuriating way,â megan mutters.
âNO ITâS NOT,â you snap. âbecause then he says the night was a mistake.â
âoh,â mina says softly. âthatâsââ
âBUT THENââ you cut in. âhe also says he thinks about it. like he just casually drops that and expects me to be okay.â
âmen,â megan says, exhausted. âtruly a disease.â
âand the worst partââ your voice drops, quieter now. âhe keeps saying heâs protecting me. like iâm some fragile thing that needs to be managed. like i donât get a say.â
thereâs a silence on the line. not awkward. just listening.
âdo you like him?â mina asks gently.
you sink onto the couch, staring at the wall. âi donât know him,â you say. âand thatâs the problem. because i stillââ you stop, huff out a laugh. âi still think about how he looked at me. like it mattered. and now heâs acting like it didnât.â
âthat kind of whiplash messes with your head,â megan says. âanyone would be mad.â
âi am mad,â you admit. âiâm mad that he gets to decide this. iâm mad that he gets to want me and still shut me out. and iâm mad that i still want him even after all of that.â
mina sighs. âyouâre cooked.â
âi know.â
âbut,â megan adds carefully, âthis isnât over. not with that kind of tension. not with a man that repressed.â
you groan, dropping your head back against the couch. âi donât want it to be over. and i donât want it to keep hurting. i want him to either want me properly or leave me alone.â
âmen like that,â mina says, ânever do either cleanly.â
you close your eyes, the elevator replaying behind your lids. his voice. the rules. the way he looked like he was losing something.
âyeah,â you murmur. âiâm starting to realize that.â
you donât notice at first that heâs there.
youâre mid-complaint, pacing the empty hallway outside the cafeteria, phone pressed to your ear. megan and mina are still on the line, but youâve gotten loud enough that no one could miss you if they were walking past. youâre saying the words you shouldnât, the words that feel like fire leaving your mouth:
âheâs impossibleâ i swear, he acts like he doesnât even exist and then he, ughâ he thinks heâs protecting me, i donât even know what that means! and the way he looked at me in that elevator, like he was losing somethingâ iâm not supposed to want that and yet, ugh.â
your knees almost buckle when a shadow falls over your line of sight. you freeze. and there he is.
leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets, expression unreadableâ full of control wrapped so tight itâs almost painful to look at. he doesnât move closer. doesnât say anything. just listens.
your stomach drops, and your hand flies to your mouth. âshitâ heâsââ you try to whisper, but itâs already too late. your voice isnât even quiet. heâs heard all of it. every word.
he tilts his head, and just for a second, thereâs something unguarded in his eyesâ hurt? amusement? frustration? all tangled up together. you canât tell.
âi⌠i didnât mean for you to,â you start, but your voice falters.
he cuts you off with a small shake of his head, like heâs already deciding what this means. âyou donât get to pretend you werenât thinking about me,â he says quietly, voice low but carrying just enough to make your ears burn.
you gape. âiâi wasnât,â
âdonât,â he interrupts. âi heard everything.â
you can feel your face heating, heart hammering. the hall feels smaller now. every step you thought you could take back disappears under the weight of him knowing.
he lets the silence stretch, and somehow itâs heavier than any words could be. heâs watching you unravelâ tight jaw, restless hands, the way your voice stutters when you try to explain yourself.
âthis isnât over,â he murmurs finally, almost to himself. or maybe to you. you canât tell. and the worst part? you donât want it to be.
and then heâs goneâ slipping around the corner with the same impossible control he wears like armor. youâre left in the hallway, phone forgotten, knees weak, lungs burning.
he knows. he heard it all.
you didnât want to come. megan and mina dragged you anyway, laughing, joking, insisting you needed a night out. you tried to argue, told them you were exhausted, told them you had work tomorrow, told them you just wanted to stay home with wine and your couch, but of course they didnât listen.
the music hits before you even step inâbass vibrating through your chest, lights flashing in patterns that make your head spin, bodies pressed too close, heat everywhere. the air smells like perfume, sweat, and something faintly metallic, and you clutch your drink like itâs a lifeline. your eyes scan the crowd, searching for anything familiar, wishing you were anywhere else.
then you see him.
jeon jungkook.
leaning against the bar, dark suit tailored perfectly, untucked just enough to look effortless, sleeves rolled just a fraction, tattoos peaking out. eyes catching yours immediately. calm. sharp. dangerous. your stomach twists like someone just took your organs hostage, and your breath catches before you even realize it. heâs looking at you, and itâs not casualâheâs assessing, tracking, predatory in a way that makes your pulse spike.
you back up instinctively, but he doesnât move. he doesnât crowd you. he just stops, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from him, just a fraction, and itâs almost cruel.
âdidnât expect to see you here,â he says, voice low, edged, rough in a way that makes your spine tingle. a smirk curls at the corner of his lips, sharp, unreadable.
âi could say the same,â you mutter, forcing your voice to stay steady, though your hands grip the glass until your knuckles ache.
âyouâre reckless,â he says, eyes flicking over you slowly, deliberately, like heâs memorizing every inch. âalways running headfirst into things you canât control.â
you glare. âiâm notââ
âoh, donât,â he interrupts, leaning just a fraction closer, so close that your shoulders brush and the contact sends a shock straight through you. âi know exactly what youâre thinking. and i know how youâre trembling. you donât get to hide from me.â
your pulse spikes. you laugh, sharp and bitter, trying to mask it. âiâm not trembling.â
âsure,â he says, one corner of his mouth twitching, eyes dark and sharp. âkeep telling yourself that.â
you swallow hard, heart hammering, and your mind is spinning. your chest feels tight, your fingers warm from the pressure youâre gripping your glass with. the music pounds around you, but itâs just a background now. all you can focus on is him.
he leans in slightly again, enough that the heat of his body presses into you without touching fully, and it makes your knees weak. your thoughts scatterâ youâre trying to calculate, to reason, to convince yourself youâre fine, but nothing works. every instinct screams caution, but every nerve in your body betrays you.
âdrink?â he asks suddenly, holding up a glass, eyes never leaving yours. thereâs amusement in the way he moves, but also a quiet dominance, like heâs already won before youâve even made a choice.
you take it. because god, everything about him makes you reckless. because thereâs this pull you canât deny, a current in his presence that drags you forward even when your brain is screaming to back away.
he doesnât kiss you. not yet. not fully. but he doesnât need to. a look, a touch, the faint brush of his fingers on yours when he passes close to hand a drink to a friendâelectric. your pulse races, chest tight, every boundary dissolving in the heat of him. you want to pull away, you do, but thereâs a voice inside you whisperingâdonât.
âthree days,â he murmurs, leaning closer again, low enough that the words brush over your ear. âand i can already tell, you havenât stopped thinking about me.â
you choke on your drink. your cheeks burn. âi havenât.â
âdonât lie,â he says, voice low, dangerous, eyes dark. âi can see it. and you love that you canât stop.â
you glare, but the truth lingers in your chest like fire. the music, the lights, the heat of the roomâ all blur. the heat of his gaze, the proximity, the tension, itâs overwhelming. he smirks, steps back just enough to let your pulse catch up, but not far enough to let your mind breathe.
he moves through the crowd like he owns it, like he owns you, and every step makes your stomach twist. you watch him, heart pounding so fast you canât imagine sitting still for a moment. every nerve ending screams, touch him, talk to him, donât let him go.
megan and mina are laughing nearby, too far to hear the low, dangerous tone of his voice when he whispers something that makes your knees go weak. youâre aware of them but also completely untethered from the rest of the world. the world has narrowed to him, the brush of his hand, the dark curl of his lips, the sharp tilt of his jaw.
he glances back once, catches your gaze across the crowd, and thereâs that smirk again, one that says he knows exactly the effect he has on you. and it makes your pulse spike, heat rising from your chest to your cheeks, and you almost spill your drink reaching for it in nervous anticipation.
the club feels too loud, too hot, too bright. everything presses inâ lights, music, bodies, but itâs all background noise compared to the pull of him. you feel reckless, ungrounded, like youâre balancing on the edge of something you canât survive. and yet, thereâs a thrill, sharp and dangerous, that makes your chest ache.
he leans against the bar now, casually, but thereâs tension in the way he shifts, a quiet dominance, every movement measured, confident, infuriating. he catches your eye again, and you canât help the shiver that runs through you.
âcome here,â he murmurs, just enough to carry over the music, just enough that itâs private, teasing. the sound of it makes your throat dry, makes your heart race, makes every nerve in your body alert.
you step forward cautiously, every step betraying you, and when he tilts his head, half-smile teasing, half-dangerous, you can feel the sharp pull of it, wanting, needing, unable to stop.
âyouâre impossible,â you breathe, voice low, trembling without meaning to. âi know,â he says, eyes dark, sharp, dangerous, and the word hangs between you. not an apology tho!
he brushes against your arm again, just a whisper of contact, and the room blurs. every instinct screams to pull away, but every nerve in your body betrays you. heâs chaos, but you canât resist it. heâs dangerous, but youâre drawn in anyway.
and then heâs goneâ stepping back, slipping through the crowd, leaving you gasping, flushed, shaking. your drink forgotten. your pulse still racing. your body still wants him, and your mind is screaming why.
youâre left in the middle of the club, lights spinning, music pounding, friends laughing, and you realize, heâs already won. he hasnât even kissed you, hasnât broken any rule, but heâs taken you apart anyway.
you take a shaky breath, trying to ground yourself, trying to convince yourself this is just a night out. but you know the truthâ heâs in your head, in your pulse, in the way your chest tightens and your knees threaten to buckle.
and god, you want him.
youâre at your desk before the office buzz fully startsâcoffee in hand, heart still hammering from last night, nerves fraying in ways you canât quite name. your thoughts keep flicking back to himâthe way he moved through the crowd, the brush of his hand, the smirk that made your pulse trip over itself.
and then heâs there.
he doesnât storm in. doesnât announce himself. he just⌠is. jeon jungkook, calm, composed, untouchable, every inch the ceo youâve been learning to respectâand yet every bit as dangerous as he was in the club. tailored suit, sleeves rolled, eyes like heâs reading every secret youâve tried to bury.
âmorning,â he says, voice steady, low, edges sharp enough to make you shiver.
âmorning,â you whisper, throat dry, fingers tightening around your pen. your pulse betrays you in ways that are embarrassingly obvious.
he tilts his head, scanning you, slow and deliberate, measuring. thereâs no teasing smirk today, no sharp commentâjust controlled heat, like heâs dangerous and calm all at once.
âlast night,â he begins, voice low, measured, and your stomach knots, âwas⌠reckless.â
âyeah,â you murmur, because god, it was. your chest still burns from the memory of his proximity, his dominance, the way he made the chaos of the club feel like an intimate cage.
he leans just slightly forward, resting one hand on the edge of your deskâcareful, deliberate, like heâs claiming the space but not overstepping. âso,â he continues, eyes locking on yours, âwant to fix it properly?â
âfix itâŚ?â you echo, heart stuttering.
âdinner,â he says simply, voice sharp, confident, low. âsomewhere you canât run from me. somewhere we can⌠figure out whatever this is.â
you swallow hard, pulse hammering in your ears. the memory of last night curls through your chest like fire, dangerous and thrilling. âyes,â you say, quiet but firm.
he smiles thenâsmall, controlled, confident, but thereâs a sharp edge that makes it clear heâs in charge of this game. âgood. iâll pick you up.â
and just like that, heâs gone, slipping back into the calm rhythm of the office, leaving you flushed, heart racing, and painfully aware of every inch of him still lingering in your memory.
the office around you hums quietly, mundane, safeâbut you know it wonât stay that way. because now heâs not chaos you glimpse in a clubâheâs controlled, deliberate, and fully aware of what heâs doing to you. and for the first time, the thought of him being this close, this composed, this dominant, makes your pulse spike in anticipation instead of fear.
you breathe out slowly, trying to steady your hands, trying to act normal, trying to pretend youâre okay. but youâre not. and you wonât be. not while heâs anywhere in your world.
and somewhere deep in your chest, you realizeâyou want this. you want him. youâve wanted him from the moment he appeared, from the first dangerous smirk, from the brush of his hand, from the chaos of last night.
you spend the rest of the day in a haze. every glance at your phone makes your stomach flip, every passing shadow in the office makes you wonder if heâs watching, if heâs plotting his next move. and when five oâclock finally comes, your chest tightensânot with relief, but anticipation.
the car pulls up just as you step outside. sleek, black, impossibly clean. the door opens before you can even reach for it. heâs there, tall, composed, sharp, and god, impossibly distracting even in the mundane daylight. the smell of himâcologne, faint leather, something faintly intoxicatingâhits you, and you have to catch yourself from stumbling forward.
âget in,â he says, voice low, no room for argument, and you obey, sliding into the seat like youâve been trained to follow orders you donât fully understand.
he waits until you buckle, until youâre settled, before easing into the driverâs seat. the engine hums, calm, controlled, and you canât stop yourself from glancing at himâat the way his jaw is tense, the subtle darkening of his eyes when he catches your gaze, the way he seems to command the space without moving.
the drive is quiet at first. city lights blur past the window, reflections shifting on the glass. you feel exposed, vulnerable, in ways that arenât just physical. the club, last night, the way he pressed close, the way he teased, the way he made your pulse raceâitâs all still raw, still alive in your chest.
ânervous?â he asks suddenly, without looking at you. the words are casual, but the edge beneath them makes your stomach twist.
âa little,â you admit, voice low, barely audible over the hum of the car.
he hums softly. âgood,â he says, just that one word, like a warning. âi like that youâre not completely in control.â
you glare, but your chest tightens anyway. âdonât think youâre getting away with this,â you snap, more playful than you feel, because god, you feel exposed and reckless, and it terrifies you.
âiâm not trying to get away with anything,â he says smoothly. âiâm just⌠giving you a chance to be honest with yourself.â
you scoff, turning to glance out the window, heart still racing, mind spinning. the city lights streak past, distant, meaningless compared to the pull of him in the car, the tension between you.
he parks outside a small, intimate restaurant tucked into a quiet street. itâs modern but cozy, the kind of place where everything feels deliberate, thoughtfulâlike him. he opens the door for you, and your stomach flips again when his hand brushes yours, subtle, fleeting, but enough to make you shiver.
the dinner itself is quiet at first. he doesnât dominate the conversation, doesnât flaunt power. he listens, sharp, attentive, eyes never leaving yours more than a moment at a time. he asks questions about your day, your work, your life, but itâs like heâs peeling back layers, testing boundaries, learning your edges without touching them.
you catch yourself laughing more than you expect. the sound is strange to your own ears, light, easy, because with him, even chaos feels like it has rules. even desire feels measured, like he knows exactly how far to push without letting anything snap.
at some point, he leans across the table, one arm resting on the edge, eyes darkening. âyou know,â he murmurs, voice low, âi could make this⌠more interesting.â
âoh yeah?â you challenge, chest tightening, pulse hammering. âand how would you do that?â
he smirks, sharp, infuriating. âby letting you lose control. just a little.â
you inhale sharply, flush rising, because heâs not teasing. heâs daring you, pushing boundaries without breaking rules, and every nerve in your body hums with tension.
dinner ends, but the night doesnât. he insists on walking you back to your car, the streets quiet, the city subdued. his hand brushes yours againâlight, teasing, but enough to make you catch your breath.
âyou know,â he says, voice lower now, more deliberate, âthis could go badly for both of us.â
âoh?â you ask, heart hammering, voice tight, trying to sound braver than you feel. âand whyâs that?â
âbecause youâre reckless,â he says, smirk curling at his lips, eyes dark and sharp, âand iâm not good at restraint.â
your laugh is shaky, because god, heâs not wrong. and you donât want him to be. you donât want restraint. you want him. every chaotic, dangerous, impossible inch of him.
he stops you at the edge of the street, hand brushing your arm lightly, a touch that promises fire. âthink about it,â he murmurs. âthink about us.â
and then heâs gone. slipping into the shadows, leaving you trembling, flushed, your pulse still racing, every nerve alive with him.
you drive home in a daze, the memory of last night, the memory of him now, mixing together into a haze of desire, tension, and excitement. you know itâs dangerous. you know itâs reckless. but you also know you donât care.
the next day at work, the city moves around you like it doesnât exist. your mind is sharp but distracted, counting down the hours until he will appear again. and when he doesâcalm, composed, untouchableâyour chest tightens with anticipation.
âmorning,â he says, voice steady, low, edged.
âmorning,â you reply, throat dry, fingers clutching your pen.
he tilts his head, scanning you, slow, deliberate, dangerous. âabout last night,â he says, eyes locking on yours, âi wanna do this properly.â
you swallow, pulse hammering. âproperly?â
âdinner,â he says simply, with that same sharp, confident calm. âsomewhere we canât run from this. somewhere we can⌠figure out whatever this is between us.â
you inhale, heart racing. âyes,â you whisper, almost breathless.
he smiles then, controlled, small, confident, and your stomach flips. âgood. iâll pick you up.â
and just like that, heâs gone, leaving you undone, aware of every inch of him lingering in your memory, pulse still racing, anticipation building into something fierce and unrelenting.
youâre reckless, chaotic, your mind a storm of desire, anticipation, and excitement. heâs composed, dangerous, in control. and somehow, impossibly, it works.
because you know one thing for sureâheâs jeon jungkook, and heâs everything youâve been wanting, everything youâve been scared of, and everything you canât stop thinking about.
you walk in, and itâs quieter than you expectedâsoft lighting, intimate tables, the faint clink of cutlery and low hum of conversation. itâs the kind of place where everyone seems deliberate, the kind of place that feels safe from the chaos of last night, yet impossible to ignore.
he holds the door for you, and for a second, you almost stumble on the threshold. his hand brushes yours, barely, and the electric jolt that runs up your arm is ridiculous, unnecessary, but impossible to ignore. âafter you,â he murmurs, voice low, controlled, every inch of him sharp and composed. you step in, heart hammering, pulse loud in your ears.
he leads the way to a table tucked into a corner, giving the both of you privacy without seeming deliberate about it. you slide into the seat across from him, hands curling around your napkin. he sits, posture perfect, calm, exuding the kind of authority that makes it impossible to look away. the way he watches youâitâs not playful, not teasingâitâs controlled, intense, like heâs memorizing every detail without needing to touch.
the menu in your hands feels suddenly heavy. youâre acutely aware of himâhow his hand brushes against the table when he reaches for his glass, the subtle flex of his fingers, the sharp line of his jaw. itâs maddening, dangerous, and god, itâs magnetic.
he studies you first, quiet, eyes dark and sharp. âyou look⌠good,â he says finally, voice low, measured, and the words hit you in the stomach like a punch. âbetter than i expected.â
you flush, fingers tightening around the menu. âyou didnât think iâd survive last night?â you snap, half-joking, half-defensive, heart hammering.
he smirks, sharp, infuriating. âi didnât think youâd⌠stay composed this long,â he says, eyes darkening, voice low, edge dangerous. âor that youâd be this⌠aware of me.â
you glare, trying to reclaim some dignity, but your pulse betrays you. the memory of last nightâthe brush of his hand, the low murmur of his voice, the way he teased youâflares in your chest. every nerve is on fire.
the waiter approaches, but you donât even notice at first. he orders smoothly, deliberate, minimal, like heâs controlling the space around him without trying. you take a shaky breath, glance down at your menu, suddenly aware that every detail feels amplifiedâthe lighting, the quiet, the way heâs leaning forward slightly, watching you without shame.
you find your voice. âso,â you murmur, trying to distract yourself, âthis is your idea of a proper date?â
he chuckles softly, a low sound that makes your chest tighten. âitâs controlled,â he says. ânot chaotic. not loud. not⌠reckless. i wanted a chance to see you without all the distractions.â
you bite back a grin. âso⌠you want to control me?â
âdepends,â he says smoothly, leaning back, letting his gaze roam over you, slow, deliberate. âsometimes control is⌠necessary. sometimes restraint is⌠essential.â
you laugh, shaky, nervous, because god, heâs right. last night was chaos, fire, reckless energy, and you were undone. now, sitting across from him, the same sharp, dangerous pull is there, but quieter, more intimate. it makes your pulse race in anticipation, in frustration, in excitement.
conversation flows cautiously, like youâre both testing boundaries. he doesnât dominateâdoesnât flaunt authorityâbut his presence is impossible to ignore. every glance, every small movement, is deliberate, commanding, sharp. you find yourself leaning forward, drawn in, trying to focus on words, but failing.
at some point, he reaches for his water glass, hand brushing the table near yours. itâs subtle, almost accidental, but enough to make your chest tighten. your fingers twitch, craving more contact, and you curse silently at yourself for thinking about it.
âyouâre tense,â he murmurs, voice low, catching the twitch of your fingers. âyou donât have to be.â
âiâm not,â you lie, voice tight, heart hammering.
he smirks, one corner of his mouth twitching. âsure,â he says, dark and dangerous. âkeep telling yourself that.â
you inhale sharply, trying to steady your pulse, trying to focus on anything but the way his eyes linger on your lips, on your hands, on the subtle curve of your neck when you tilt your head. itâs maddening.
the meal arrives, and you eat mechanically, aware of him, aware of every movement he makes, every subtle brush of his sleeve against the table, every lean forward to reach for something, the faint scent of himâcologne, something leathered, faintly intoxicating. your pulse spikes.
conversation drifts. he tells you stories, measured, not bragging, just⌠sharing glimpses of himself. the way his jaw tightens when he laughs, the way his eyes soften slightly when heâs caught in a story, the rare flashes of vulnerability. you catch yourself studying him, memorizing him, pulse hammering, chest tight, stomach twisting.
âyouâre⌠hard to read,â you murmur finally, voice low.
âgood,â he replies, dark, sharp. âi want to be. especially with you.â
your stomach flips. âespecially with me?â
âespecially with you,â he repeats, voice quieter, deliberate. âbecause youâre reckless. because youâre⌠unpredictable. and i donât⌠like it.â
you choke on your water, flush rising, because god, heâs serious. eyes sharp, intense, controlled. yet thereâs fire there, beneath the surface, dangerous, contained. itâs maddening.
he leans slightly closer across the table. not enough to touch, not yet, but enough that you feel the heat radiating, enough that the tension twists through your chest, tight and unbearable. âdo you know what you do to me?â he asks, voice low, deliberate.
âprobably something i shouldnât,â you reply, half-joking, half-shaky, chest tight, fingers trembling.
âexactly,â he murmurs, dark, dangerous. âand i shouldnât feel this way. i shouldnât want⌠this.â
you flush, trying to hide it behind your napkin, behind the glass, behind anything. but he sees it, of course. he always does. that smirk curls at the corner of his lips. he knows. he thrives on it. and it drives you wild.
the rest of the dinner is a mix of quiet conversation, teasing remarks, sharp glances, subtle touchesâthe faintest brush of a hand, the ghost of a finger on yours, leaning just a fraction closer, leaning back, eyes dark, unreadable, dangerous. every moment is a test, a pull, a draw, and every nerve in your body is alive, buzzing, craving, shivering.
by the time dessert arrives, your chest is tight, your pulse wild, your mind spinning. he leans back slightly, eyes sharp, dark, and smirks. âthis,â he murmurs, hand brushing near yours again, âis going⌠dangerously well.â
you flush, voice tight. âi think i like danger,â you murmur, almost a whisper.
he laughs softly, a low, dark sound, and it makes your stomach twist. âiâll keep that in mind.â
the check is handled silently, his hand brushing yours once more as he folds it into his jacket. subtle. dangerous. perfect.
walking back to the car, the air is cool, grounding, but every step is charged, every glance, every shift of weight, every brush of arms is electric. he leans slightly closer as you reach your car, eyes dark, sharp. âiâll see you tomorrow,â he murmurs, voice low, dangerous, leaving the promiseâno, the threatâhanging between you.
you watch him go, pulse racing, chest tight, flushed, breath catching. the city seems dull in comparison. the memory of every brush, every smirk, every dark glance, every tease twists in your chest. you know youâre completely undone. and god, you want him to do it again.
whoever told you coparenting was hard was a fucking loser.
a concept you truly couldnât bring yourself to understand in any capacity, considering your coparenting situation was one most dreamt about.
you know you were probably privileged considering the horror stories youâd heard online that felt more like a nightmare than actual reality - youâd never experienced any screaming matches over custody, no passive aggressive texts sent at heinous hours of the night, no awkward handovers that made you uncomfortable. you had your ex husband wrapped around your little finger; a fact both you and he relished in openly.
in fact, your initial divorce from jeon jungkook had only confused people. despite the signed papers between you symbolising an end of the relationship over two years ago, nothing about your dynamic functioned as though you were exes.
you were both polar opposites, two people that came from a different walk of life and so it was a well known fact that neither of you would last as a married couple, and yet here you were, orbiting one another as though the prospect of otherwise was too foreign to entertain.
the best way to describe jungkook was manly. he embodied the very meaning of it - half mechanic, other half beast with rough edges and broad hands, grease permanently smeared on his skin. his large frame was covered in tattoos, beefy arms flexing as heâd work whilst his dark hair would constantly fall into his eyes because heâd forget to go to the barber until you all but forced him to go.
he owned his own mechanics company, the biggest in the city, which meant he worked like a dog but he earned good enough money to spoil you rotten. nothing had really changed after the divorce other than a formal understanding. he paid for your entire lifestyle, making sure you used his card for the groceries, the upkeep of your once shared home, your stupid skincare orders and of course, your sweet children.
jungkookâs only rule pending the divorce was made incredibly clear to you. he was the sole provider. him and only him.
you genuinely wondered whether his personal nightmare consisted of you working a shift with the way heâd get angry at you spending your own money, queuing another heavy argument that had you all but icing him out for a full day. enough to have him kissing down your neck in apology, all whilst groping your ass the way you secretly loved.
truthfully, he had never known how not to provide for you.
it lived somewhere deep inside of him, carved into his very being and instinct, so much so he thought it defined him as a man. once you had birthed your twin children, it was like something had switched in his brain to amplify it all that much harder. despite no longer being his wife, he supported you and the children, telling you it was the one thing he wouldnât let you fight him on.
you were a princess to the core. manicured nails, weekly blowouts and a shopping addiction that only spurred jungkook on to work harder - you were his polar opposite, never having worked too hard a day in your life and he wanted to keep it that way. even your children were a gift from above, so well behaved and sweet that you had never struggled with them, loving nothing more than to pamper and shower them with all of your love.
you were an odd family unit, even you could recognise that, with your coparenting dynamic meaning he had unrestricted access to your home. he was over multiple times a week after work, always using the excuse of wanting to see the kids which of course was half true, but really, any access to you was worth making the journey over. you kept his stomach full and his annoyance high, just how he liked it.
no matter how well you were together, being married just didnât work. he worked too hard, you pushed too much - you both wanted things from the other that seemed impossible, leaving you in limbo where all youâd do is argue. it would always end with him inside of you, but sex could only fix so much. somehow, not being together had only strengthened the tension between you as you made it your life mission to keep him on his toes, and he made sure youâd feel his presence no matter what.
in theory, you were perfect for each other.
because the thing about jeon jungkook is he liked his woman difficult.
liked when you bitched at him with glossy lips and french tips all curled onto your hips, scoffing at whatever he was telling you before taking his card to online shop. it was even better when youâd stomp around the house in your flimsy little pyjamas, pretending to be annoyed at him over stupid things he knew had no merit - it had him hardening beyond words.
you were his little minx, and he fucking loved it.
â
âmamma, daddy said i could stay up until nine today.â your son, minjae, giggled from his seat beside his sister on the couch, their favourite show playing on the screen.
âdaddyâs stupid, baby. we donât listen to him.â you cooed back as you handed them their snacks, the sound of your kids giggling enough to put a grin on your face.
âheard that.â
the deep voice came before you actually saw him, followed by the sound of heavy work boots by the door of your home. within seconds, you watched as he appeared by the doorway, in all of his obnoxiously masculine glory.
jeon jungkook practically swallowed your doorway whole as he stepped into the living room. broad shoulders were the first thing you saw as they stretched the material of his work t-shirt, his brand logo clear on his chest, the navy a fitting contrast to his tanned skin. his hair was messy, pulled back from his face, faint traces of grease still staining his forearms where he had scrubbed clean just minutes ago.
he was just so big. big hands, big biceps, big thighs - his muscles were something that you could never really get over, something he was very much privy to. he was the sort of man who reached for things on the top of the shelf without thinking, carrying both children with such ease that it had you malfunctioning in real time. his voice was low, gruff. the type that had people listening as though he was a natural leader.
a beast of a man.
âdaddy!â minji, your little girl, squealed as she carefully placed her plate next to her before scurrying away to launch herself at him.
jungkookâs entire face softened, letting out a soft laugh as he picked her up, all whilst minjae copied his older sister, instead cupping his legs, much shyer than his overexcited sibling.
he cooed at them, his voice dropping low whilst he ruffled his hair affectionately. your children absolutely adored him, both sweet little things that glowed whenever their dad would appear.
you could never get over how good of a father he was, and despite your relationship not always being the best, he prioritised your children the way you wanted. even the way he provided for you, as the mother of his children, was beyond generous and underneath the bitchy attitude, you were grateful tenfold. he treated you three like you were a natural extension of him.
but unfortunately for him, you were simply unable to let him live in peace.
âyouâre late.â you murmured casually from the couch, going back to filing your nails.
jungkookâs eyes lifted to yours. narrowing. he lingered, looking you up and down openly, hungrily, as though the prospect of you getting on his nerves whilst looking the way you did was straight out of a fantasy.
âtraffic.â
âmm.â
âwhatâs that supposed to mean?â he scoffed a little.
ânothing.â you hummed again, all too casual, but he could see what you were doing.
that didnât stop him falling victim to it.
âbeen here three seconds and youâre already being bitchy.â
you gasped dramatically, pointing your nail file in his direction as it became your turn to narrow your eyes into slits. âwatch your mouth in front of the children!â
âbut mamma, you called daddy stupid.â minjae, your sweet angel inquired with a tone of genuine confusion, the two words falling into the same category in his mind.
jungkook watched as you cooed at him, getting up from your seat to plant a big kiss to his cheek, before reciprocating it with his sister too who giggled.
âthatâs because your daddy is stupid, my love.â
he scoffed again at you with a shake of his head, muttering something under his breath that earned him a hefty glare from yourself. he put minji down finally, his hand still on minjaeâs head affectionately only for the pair to grab at his hands in a shared babble, leading him over to the couch to show him the cartoon they had just been watching out of excitement.
and despite being exhausted, jungkook was utterly weak at the knees for his kids, and thus, followed along immediately.
you watched him, having moved to the kitchen where you got a clear view of them from your position near the doorway. his big body sunk into the couch whilst minjae shuffled closer, settling into his fatherâs side. the entire vision was enough to tug at your heart as you fought down your cuteness aggression - especially with the way he just looked too large for the area he was sat in, with all the cushions surrounding him, his two kids. he looked silly.
particularly with the way minji was now climbing all over him whilst explaining the plot with deadly seriousness.
âand then she lost her crown.â she informed him sadly.
âshit,â jungkook remarked with raised eyebrows. âthatâs bad.â
âdaddy!â
âsorry. shoot.â
you rolled your eyes as he looked up, meeting your gaze momentarily with a sheepish grin, before you looked away, settling over the stove once more.
it happened every time.
youâd spend all day mentally preparing yourself to be annoyed at him only for jungkook to walk in through the door and utterly transform. he became so soft, so gentle when it came to your pair and it was a constant reminder that the one good thing that came out of this situation was you had picked the perfect father.
heâd listen to them properly - never offering them a half assed version of himself, especially since you had both come from such broken homes. always listening properly, no distractions, despite the fact he would work gruelling shifts that had him using his body for hours on hours. even now, heâd always have his hand rubbing up and down minjaeâs back as his sister yapped and yapped, knowing he was the quieter one of the two and therefore the shyer one.
your chest squeezed at the thought.
âyou feedinâ me tonight, or what?â
you swore if you rolled your eyes any more that night, theyâd pop out of your skull.
âyouâre so romantic.â
âbeen thinking about your food all day.â he grunted, walking into the kitchen properly to allow the kids their time on the tv, and of course, his time to terrorise their mother.
âthatâs because you eat like an animal.â
âworked twelve hours today.â
âwhoâs fault is that?â
he couldnât help the smirk on his face. he loved you bratty. âyours. youâre milking me dry.â
you narrowed your eyes, stirring his food in the pot, though youâd never admit you cooked solely for him and his taste, despite it being more than clear. behind you, you could hear the soft sounds of the familiar cartoon playing mixed with the twinsâ occasional giggle, though it wasnât long until the heavy sound of jungkookâs footsteps became louder and louder, souring your mood.
of course. the man couldnât survive without being near you when given the option.
âyouâre extra bratty tonight.â he observed casually, leaning against one of the counters, though his voice was twinged in exhaustion.
âyouâre projecting.â you hummed back.
âam not.
âare too.â
âyou text me a thumbs up earlier.â
âand?â
jungkook scoffed before coming to the counter closest to you, leaning, despite your refusal to look at him.
âyou know i hate that fucking shit.â
instead, you chose to feign ignorance, going so far as to prettily turn your back to him with a flick of your hair. you couldnât help but wind him up, it was genuinely your favourite thing to do considering his reactions were always just so worth it. a man you knew could ruin you in seconds holding back because he knew he truly didnât have access to you anymore, and until you gave him the green light needed, he was stuck in limbo.
lord knew whenever you gave him a faraway nod, heâd have you up on the counters and in between your thighs in seconds, always telling you it was the only way he felt satisfied anymore despite not being touched.
your hand reached upwards to grab a plate from the cabinet above your head. before you could even touch it, your feet on their tip toes, a large arm reached over your head instantly.
his chest brushed your back in the process in a way that felt accidental at first, but immediately, you found yourself pressed almost harshly into the stove, his front pushing your back against him cheekily.
fucking ridiculous.
jungkook grabbed the plate effortlessly, barely having to raise his hand whatsoever. instead of handing it to you immediately, he merely pressed against you further, your eyes widening just a fraction as you felt every inch of him behind you, warmth bleeding through the very thin material of your tiny pyjama top.
he was always so warm after work, it made your head spin.
âcouldâve got it myself.â you murmured under your breath, cheeks hot.
âyeah?â he dipped his head down, lips grazing your ear. âlooked like you were struggling.â
you hated how much you loved it - how big he was compared to you, how he towered over you. jungkook made you feel tiny in a way that genuinely fucked with your head, all broad muscle and rough hands, and sheer overwhelming man. even now, one of his thighs nudged between yours absentmindedly as he reached around you to place the plate down for you.
âyouâre in my space.â you shifted, pretending like you werenât enjoying it.
he could read you like an open book.
âyour space?â he let out a small laugh.
you wanted to push him away, annoyed at his amusement at your words and even more annoyed at the way he so casually touched you, especially considering he knew what it did to you. it made you weak everywhere, to the point where you were utter putty in the palm of his hands and he relished in the feeling - the woman he obsessed over equally as ruined by something he did without thought.
you opened your mouth to speak only to feel his too large hand suddenly slide over to your stomach, digits digging into your skin before yanking you back into him. you were no longer pushed against the stove, now completely entirely into him, meaning you could feel every inch, including the harsh bulge that had begun to form just by speaking to you.
a squeak nearly left you before your eyes fell into slits, huffing as you smacked his hand meanly. fucking brute.
âjungkook!â you immediately snapped at him, but it did nothing to deter him as his fingers spread wide, practically covering every inch of the skin on your stomach all whilst he held you to him like he had every right.
âstop moving.â he muttered against your ear.
âugh, youâre such a brute!â
âhard to do that when youâre walking around our house looking like this.â
your mouth fell open.
âour house?â you hissed, though he couldnât help but realise the way your shoulders had dropped a little, almost at ease at his words despite your words. âi divorced you, this is my home.â
âstupid divorce.â he huffed a little under his breath, face dropping into your neck as he breathed in your scent. âworst fucking decision of my life.â
the words came out flat - immediate, as though they were plain fact. it constantly knocked you of breath whenever he talked like that, knowing that deep down you agreed too, that despite the problems between you, the divorce was also a big regret of your own. perhaps that was why neither of you acted like it had actually happened, simply playing house as though you were still together.
âyou wear these shorts on purpose?â
you hummed at him then, looking over your shoulder at him just as he pulled away from your neck, your eyes connecting. âtheyâre just pyjamas.â
his hand, however, slid over to your hip with a grunt, squeezing.
âyouâre killing me walking around like this.â
you rolled your eyes so hard, your head hurt. âjust had a twelve hour shift and itâs my shorts that are killing you?â
âyeah,â jungkook replied instantly, with no hesitation whatsoever, eyeing you almost meanly. âyou know what youâre doing. cut the innocent shit.â
you scoffed dramatically despite the heat travelling up and down your body. âyouâre so embarrassing!â
âyouâre a fucking minx.â
his teeth grazed the curve where your shoulder met your neck before he bit down, teeth sinking into your skin just enough to have you jolting. immediately, you smacked him on his arm with a hiss despite the utter mess between your legs, your brain growing hazier by the second.
âow! you dog!â
âkeep being mouthy,â he muttered against your skin, gently sucking on the area he bit, planting heavy kisses before dragging his lips to your ear once more. âwatch what happens.â
the threat settled low in your stomach.
you could feel it everywhere, deep between your thighs and in the thump of your heart, all whilst your mind malfunctioned in real time. jungkook watched you slump against him, knowing how badly you were affected when he spoke like that. vulgar. nasty. all heavy hands and filthy promises heâd whisper into your skin like they belonged there. you couldnât help how your body reacted to him, not when he was the only living thing that knew exactly which buttons to press to have you fall on your knees for him, to shut your pretty little mouth up with ease.
you twisted in his hold, finally managing to part from him just enough to actually turn in his hold, trying your best to glare at him despite the hazy look in your eye. he wanted to devour you, head dropping low to properly meet your gaze, feeling his breath against your lips.
âyouâre disgusting.â you weakly rebutted at him.
âyou like it.â his mouth curled.
he could take you now, right here, and he knew youâd let him - knew youâd open up your pretty little legs for him to give way for all of the things he had wanted. he also knew you werenât ready for it, and despite the heavy tension between you and the thick want that clouded every conversation, heâd never push until you were the one that initiated.
that was the rules afterall.
you had told him as much, plainly. he could eat you out as much as he wanted, and lord knew he did with absolute glee, but no sex, no kisses. you simply used him to get off, grinding on his hardened cock through his work trousers late in the evening, his hand on your mouth to muffle the loud moans you couldnât keep inside. he was a mere toy, happy to be at your disposal.
the smug bastard let out a low hum before finally releasing you, his fingers squeezing your stomach one last time to remind you of his hold on you, before grunting lightly, stepping back. you watched him, openly, one hand going down to adjust the growing bulge that had formed whilst he took a seat at the table, just like you had wanted him to at the beginning, still palming himself as he watched you as though it was perfectly normal.
you turned, plating his food despite your warm cheeks, all whilst your ex husband sat there, massaging his cock at the sight of your ass openly. you knew that to anyone else, the dynamic was batshit crazy, but to you? this was all you wanted, all you ever needed - a fucked up lover who managed to match you, none of that sappy shit. you wanted a man, and a man you had gotten indeed.
you turned, placing it in front of him, already turning to walk away before a large arm darted out, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you down onto his lap, against the very bulge that was growing and growing and growing. he knew how messed up youâd get just from grinding on him, and he had every intention of making you cum tonight, multiple times hopefully. the thought thrilled him.
âget off!â
his hand flattened against your back as your legs came up onto the side of him, your core nestled so perfectly against his clothed cock that it pulled a tiny gasp from your throat, a hitch of breath that had him openly bucking his hips into you so you could feel it more prominently. the man was obscene, genuinely obscene and the worst thing was that you were equally as sick, capitalising off of the interaction by grinding right back down on him, as though his food wasnât there, as though he wasnât exhausted from the day heâd just had.
âalways fucking mouthing off.â he muttered darkly, lips now grazing your jaw in sweet kisses. âthen look at you..â another grind, heavier now. enough to have you whimpering a little, the friction of his heavy duty trousers delicious against your barely there shorts. âget so sweet when i put you on my lap like you belong.â
at that, you shut your eyes, unable to rebut or saying more when you knew it was the truth.
no matter how mouthy you were, jungkook always put you in your place the same way each time. a roll of his hips, a thrust of his tongue - you were his girl through and through, no matter what you told him. it was his obligation, his duty, to satisfy you in the ways youâd let him and god did he exploit the fuck out of those decisions.
heat flooded your entire body, just as you spread your legs for him properly, straddling him the way he liked, your head on his shoulder, hands on his chest. you watched him eat, eyeing his adamâs apple half in hunger yourself, only for him. only ever him. he was filth personified, what with his obsessive and controlling tendencies but it was what made you want him so badly - even now, he found himself feeding you from his own plate despite being starved, always putting your comfort in front of his.
all whilst forcing your clothed cunt down on him harder.
you spent the next few minutes like that, in a state of bliss like you hadnât just spent the last ten minutes being mean to him for no apparently reason, but he loved it, holding you tight to him as he indulged in your needy tendencies. he didnât care what you did, or how you chose to use him as long as it was him you selected.
you were his fucking girl, and heâd never let you forget it.
â
shopping had easily become one of your favourite hobbies after the divorce.
that wasnât to say you didnât indulge prior, but having jungkookâs debit cards in your pink chanel purse post divorce meant you could spend as frivolously as you wanted with full knowledge that he couldnât complain or youâd revoke all access to yourself. it was pure evil coming from you, that much you could agree, but it wasnât like you cared to be honest - he wanted to give you his money, who were you not to spend it at dior?
it was his fault, really, considering jungkook had managed to make the separation somehow more beneficial than the actual relationship.
his cards sat so pretty in your bag, begging, yearning to be used by you and you, of course, were never one to deny your soul of what was so easily accessible to you. how could you deny a gift when given with so much love, so freely as though it was what he had intended in the first place.
and so, you found yourself on your weekly shopping spree, humming under your breath. dressed in your cute little skirt, top accentuating your breasts in a way you know would have jungkook passing away if he saw you, all whilst your big heels clicked and clacked on the pavement; you indulged in the strip of shops that had become home to you.
fendi, gucci, louis, hermes, chanel, prada - you knew them all, and oh, how they knew you.
you had already spent an ungodly amount.
a new perfume just because the bottle was pretty, alongside some high end skincare you secretly knew was utter bullshit. two sets of expensive heels that accentuated the length of your legs so deliciously, youâd be a fool not to purchase them. countless dresses and cute little jumpers for your sweet babies too, things you knew that they would love and feel comfortable in all whilst sporting a hefty price tag.
the best thing about all of this? jungkook didnât give a fuck.
if anything, you were the sure he had something clinically wrong with him considering the way he would ask you what you had purchased, notification after notification plaguing his phone and despite seeing the ridiculous price tags, it never deterred him from making sure he worked hard enough to accommodate you. ex wife or not, you were his to provide for - you just came with a specific price.
you knew he was genuinely crazy when you had bought a whole new wardrobe full of clothes after a horrible day, needing some retail therapy more than anything else, spending an ungodly amount only to see a single text from him in response.
âgood girl.â
god, you had nearly moaned.
spending his money seemed to satisfy something deeply primitive in him. the bastard was everything you had ever wanted.
still, despite being an utter bitch to him any chance you got, even you recognised that there were rules and boundaries.
you knew that jungkook would let you buy whatever you wanted, to your hearts content no matter how stupid, but your heart still ached whenever he would come utterly exhausted after a particularly gruelling shift at the shop. being a business owner was one thing, having the largest mechanic shop was another - being the head mechanic, and actually getting your hands dirty each and every waking day from morning till night? that was a whole different ballpark, and you often found yourself returning things secretly, or putting things down whenever youâd get the familiar feeling of guilt.
unfortunately for you, said feeling was no where to be seen when all you could think about was how pretty the pink bag in front of you was.
it was ridiculous, completely and entirely - even you knew that.
the second you saw it, your hands darted out, fingers gently grazing the gold hardware, pink leather soft against your touch all whilst your heart began to beat in that all familiar way. you wanted it. needed it.
oh, how your chest fluttered at pretty things. you had always been this way, no matter the price tag, and jungkook had done nothing but absolutely untrue it throughout your relationship so really, you had no one else to blame but him.
and so you stood, bottom lip jutted out slightly as you tapped your manicured finger against your chin in thought, humming lightly before looking over to the sales assistant. even she knew this was out of your typical budget, which wasnât to say you couldnât afford it because with jungkookâs work ethic, you could do whatever you wanted. this was just a large amount, all at once, all on one thing.
with a little huff, you pulled out your phone.
god this was humiliating. never a day in your life had you asked jungkook for permission on anything, especially not when it came to your shopping purchases, but that horrible gnawing feeling all too similar to guilt was already finding home in your stomach. you were simply going to inform him because you were so nice.
you werenât even sure why you were feeling this way when he had never even uttered the word no in your presence.
your eyes dragged to the price tag one last time before letting out another huff, finding his contact and pressing the ring button all whilst grumbling.
the phone rang.
once.
twice.
three times.
your mouth fell open. nothing.
you immediately called again, now suddenly feeling even more humiliated, and more annoyed with each passing ring. once the second call rang out too, your eye officially began twitching.
you were the love of his life, the mother of his children - the only person he could cum to the thought of and yet here was, not answering your calls? what, did he have a new girl? someone else to keep him company? was that it? spoiling another girl with his bank card so he could get hard?
the deluded thought had you almost shaking as you took your furious fingers over to your messages, texting out immediately.
âhello?????â
silence.
âi need youâ
silence again - you were starting to feel seriously pissed off. who cared about a job this much?
âanswer your phone, dickheadâ
your eye was fully twitching in annoyance at the consistent blue messaging bubbles in front of you, all decorated with a single word at the bottom. delivered.
then, because you knew nothing else other than being a natural nuisance to him, you began spamming.
âjungkookâ
âjungkookâ
âjungkookâ
âjungkookâ
still nothing. the audacity of it all.
you wanted to sit and deflate before the very bag of your dreams, heart half hurting over it not already being in a shopping bag with your name on it and other half straining at the thought of jungkook not providing the attention you so desperately needed from him to live. he always had his phone on him, you thought, mind going into a million different conclusions that each felt as warped as the next.
you couldnât remember a single instance where he hadnât answered you - meetings, working, mid shower, mid wank. no matter the inconvenience, heâd be quick to hear your voice even if it was so you could bitch at him because even you knew he was down bad when it came to you. the man could have been elbow deep in an engine and somehow still find a way to have the phone on speaker next to him.
you could physically feel yourself growing more and more irritated the more you demanded for his attention, all whilst each message sat unread, until you let out a small whine. you had never done this before - never begged for him to look at you, focus on you and now? youâd be lying if you said you didnât feel a horrible twinge of anxiety in your stomach at the thought of you dropping in his priorities.
he was your jungkook, afterall.
in that hazy train of thought, you put your phone away, turning sharply on your heel and towards the door, making your way outside with your multiple bags on your arms. the shop was only a few streets away, and you were quick on your feet. you wouldnât usually walk so much in these heels, but these were trying times and you didnât have a moment to waste.
it wasnât even about the bag anymore. it was the principle.
at least, that was what you kept telling yourself.
-
the horrible mixture of irritation, brattiness and insecurity swirled deep inside your chest as you practically marched over to the mechanics shop, your hair bouncing with each step all whilst your insane heels clicked loudly. your multiple shopping bags were beginning to hurt your arms, another thing you were sure to take out on jungkook despite the fact it was a self inflicted problem.
your shoes, ones you never really had a problem with, were beginning to dig into your feet and you were sure it was because you were already annoyed. they had long stopped looking cute and started feeling devilish, but unfortunately for you, your pride well outweighed the hassle of it all.
you marched right inside, only to be hit with the all too familiar smell of oil and metal. it lived permanently in the walls and into your ex husbandâs clothing, and no matter how much you denied it, it felt like home - comforting beyond means, so much so that you found yourself craving to be wrapped in it whenever you would see him.
the large workshop was busy despite the afternoon dragging on with engines high in the air, toolboxes scattered on each section, concrete floors muddied and dirtied whilst you could hear someone on the far end of the room call out about a missing wrench. again, it felt like home.
a few heads lifted immediately upon your arrival, with all six raising as you stepped forward a little. the move instantly changed, as all of them greeted you warmly, some waving, sweet jin even going so far as to take the bags off of your arms and put them in jungkookâs office.
you knew them all personally, of course. you had been here for years, when your ex had first opened the shop, hiring all of them. you had brought lunches, been pregnant with your babies here, waddling around whilst they all debated baby names with you. a family dynamic that resulted in there being no sense of awkwardness whatsoever, despite the divorce.
your gaze swept around the garage, looking, searching, finally finding him.
your breath caught. annoyingly.
because, unfortunately for you, no matter how many years had passed between you, no matter how many arguments where youâd poke and prod, and certainly no matter how many times you pushed him to brink of genuine desperation; the sight of him was always enough to have butterflies erupt in your stomach as though it was the first time.
your heart skipped a beat as you watched him, lowered over an engine with a tool in hand, grease and something dark smeared on his hands all whilst his work t-shirt stretched around his torso unfairly. his biceps were bulging, your kryptonite, all whilst he seemed completely focused on what he was doing.
it wasnât until he could hear everyone greeting you that had him looking to the side, where you stood, giving you full access to his face. the same dark substance was smeared slightly on his jaw, his dark hair pushed out of his face all whilst his tatted frame turned to fully face you.
if you thought you had been undone by a mere look at you, it was jungkook who felt his entire life stop.
you, his minx of a girl, dressed in a skirt too tiny for his liking with a cute matching top, one that pushed your breast up, giving him the perfect view despite the distance between you. the way your hair sat, your lips plump with lip gloss he longed to kiss off of you, and your high heels that still couldnât match his height.
he was assessing you hungrily, a darkened look on his face as he admired you head to toe over and over, openly for everyone to see. he had no shame, he didnât give a fuck when it came to you - you might have divorced him but you were every inch his wife and you knew it too.
you recognised that look, and with each heavy step towards you, it simply expanded to every one of his limbs. he was a man starved, hungry for one thing in his life and that was you. he still looked at you like it was the first time seeing you, even after all these years.
his jaw was harsh, tightened, as though your presence here had fucked him.
good, you thought bitterly, still annoyed. you wanted him to suffer.
he grabbed a rag on his way to you, cleaning his hands of clinging grease before shoving the cloth over his shoulder. once he was in front of you, you readied yourself, lips parting to no doubt spit some venom at him over your own insecurities but he offered no time. instead, jungkook grabbed you by your waist and pushed you firmly in the direction of his office, no words exchanged.
âjungkook!â you hissed, turning a little as your body was all but forced to walk in a direction, the click of your heels heavy on the dirty workfloor.
he didnât respond, eyes meeting yours in heavy warning, a reminder that this was his workplace, where he was a working professional, where his rules reigned first and foremost. you hated how badly the thought swirled in your stomach, coaxing you out of your negative thoughts and straight back where you felt most at home.
once you were in his office, he turned to close the door. with a single flick of his finger, the lock turned, confining you into the space, all whilst you narrowed your eyes at him. with a small huff, you turned around, flicking your hair at him before walking over to his large seat behind his mahogany desk, sitting down on it as though it belonged to you.
it was laughable, really, how easily you managed to rile him up. just the sight of you, bare legs crossed and high heeled feet - he wanted to fucking ruin you just to remind you that you were all his.
âyou should clean up.â you huffed once more, fingers pushing the stacks of contracts away from your space, annoyingly mixing up important papers.
he simply stood in front of the door, before walking over to the desk, resting on the corner of it, eyes meeting yours. he didnât bother even looking at what you were doing, despite it no doubt causing him problems in the future - he couldnât keep his eyes off of you.
âyou walked here.â
it wasnât a question. a loaded statement no doubt used to coax you into revealing your full emotions.
your eye twitched. âi have legs.â
âyour heels are new.â
âand?â
his lips quirked up slightly. âtheyâre hurting your feet.â
âno they arenât.â you snapped back, despite your toes hurting slightly.
his eyebrows lifted. you were such a liar, dressed in sin. he wanted to kiss you.
jungkook pushed off of the desk, walking past the pile of bags that jin had placed in the office for you no longer than a few minutes ago, his eyes still trained on you as he refused to look away. your own eyes faltered, dropping onto the bags momentarily as that familiar feeling of guilt wrapped around your stomach before it returned to his gaze, insecurity wrapped in anger only coming back harder.
he looked like he was approaching a skittish animal, as though he was trained to deal with you entirely. unfortunately for him, you had claws.
âdonât.â you hissed.
âdonât what?â
âdo that.â
âdo what?â he was fighting a dimpled grin.
you grit your teeth. you extended your hand, finger pointing at him harshly, accusatively, all whilst he walked over to you, until your digit was actually pressing into him. your nail dug into his stomach, not by your own doing, but his as he pushed his skin harsher against you, the sting a healthy reminder of how much he yearned for your touch.
âreal scary, baby.â
you nearly shuddered, his voice heavy and loaded.
âiâm serious.â
âyeah, i know.â
you hated when his voice did that, low and certain all whilst his eyelids drooped just from looking at you. you retracted your finger, only for his own hand to dart out and grab a hold of your own until it was pressed against his stomach completely flat.
âyou ignored me.â you murmured in annoyance, all whilst you let him manoeuvre you. âdid i?â
âmhm.â
he nodded, half condescending and other half fucking enamoured by you. âand thatâs why youâre here?â
âdonât act stupid.â
your hissing had his eyes narrowing.
âcareful.â
the single word landed heavy, your mouth snapping shut. if anyone was to ask you your favourite quality about jungkook, it would always be the sheer dominance he radiated without even trying - all man, half assertion and other half brute, he plagued your every thought and yet it still never felt enough.
his grip on your hand harshened, as though he needed to feel you on him in a way that hurt, with fingers digging into his skin through his t-shirt. you gulped a little at the feel of his warmth.
âwalked into my garage wearing this shit, your feet hurting, and youâre not gonna tell me whatâs got you so bratty?â he muttered down at you, voice low.
your eyebrows pulled at his choice of words, peering down at your outfit. this was the exact clothing choice that had you guys arguing so often, what with your breasts accentuated and your ass barely hidden by the cute skirt - you couldnât help the fact that you liked things on the shorter and tighter side, especially when theyâd rile him up so bad.
âyou ignored me.â you repeated, with a frown imbedded into your skin.
ânever ignored you a day in my fucking life. what you talking about?â he scoffed a little down at you, all whilst your head had to tilt just to look at him from your seated position.
âcalled you twice, jungkook, and i text you.â it was your turn now to push your finger into him willingly. âyou ignored me, so donât pretend like you didnât. iâm not an idiot.â
âi was under a car.â
âyou always answer.â you rebutted.
his eyes narrowed. there really wasnât any winning with you, he knew that better than most, but he also wasnât an idiot. you wouldnât have marched here for no reason, especially over a missed call or two whilst he was at work considering he never really had his phone on him. he had a receptionist out front, practically hired for the sole reason of being able to inform him whenever you needed him. you knew that, so why was this so upsetting to you now?
âdonât look at me like that.â you huffed.
neither of you mentioned the way his hand on top of yours began to caress your skin, intertwining your fingers as he continued to press further into himself.
ânot looking at you like anything.â
âyeah you are, like iâm being stupid.â
he cursed under his breath as he took his other hand and rubbed it up and down his face, as though this was the cherry on top of a long and stressful day. you could feel your blood pressure rising in annoyance at the thought - he had no right to be annoyed with you, not when you were too busy being annoyed at him. how dare he?
ây/n.â he warned lightly. âthis shit is pissing me off. you ignore me every chance you get, so why the fuck are you so upset?â
you felt your cheeks begin to heat, half in embarrassment and other in deeper annoyance at being called out. was it your fault that you rolled your eyes whenever he text you, too busy grumbling to actually respond? the nasty feeling in your stomach only grew as he watched you swallow harshly, too humiliated to tell him the real reason all whilst he refused to read between the lines until you actually said something.
the office felt too small, and for the first time during the entire interaction, jungkook swore he could read genuine discomfort on your face.
it was as though the conversation at hand was something you werenât expecting, simply assuming this was another instance where heâd bow down and allow you to be bratty but, alas - he could see this time that this was different. you werenât annoyed, you werenât even upset; you looked hurt.
it was an emotion he couldnât quite understand, knowing fully he had absolutely done nothing wrong, not having even seen his phone since lunch time. rationality mattered little between the both of you, especially whenever it concerned you, but this was strange even for you. your sudden silence, your lips pressing into each other as you looked away from him, eyes unsure, gaze confused - it had his stomach dropping.
the humiliation was heavy in your frame as you realised how stupid you were being. you had marched here in these heels, a pair that were currently ruining your feet as you spoke, wincing a little as you shifted your toes to make it more comfortable. twenty minutes of amping your own emotions up only to arrive and realise the disgusting, simple fact of jungkook had been divorced by you.
you. you alone.
you had made the decision.
you had chosen to kick him out, break up the marriage over petty arguments that were a norm if anything.
you had done that, with the full expectation of him still fulfilling his husbandly duties as though you had any right to him, any access.
that alone was a horrible pill to swallow.
unfortunately for you, if anyone knew you inside and out, it was the very man in front of you. he reached over to you, tilting your chin forwards, and then up, so that your unsure eyes met his, all whilst you maintained your bratty nature by keeping your mouth shut. he wanted nothing more than to ruin your lips for even starting with him today, with that sleek gloss covering each inch of surface.
you hated when he looked at you like this, as though he was able to dismantle the corners of your feigned disdain, softening them, eroding them until all that was left was you. only you.
before you could look away, you watched as your hunk of an ex husband, all muscle and all tattoos, dropped to his knees in front of you. his arms came around your waist, yanking you forward until either of your legs were around him, his hands heavy on your back. your skirt rode up naturally, allowing him to slot in against you, forcing you to maintain eye contact despite the intimate position.
you flailed for a moment, gasping, everything happening so suddenly but his grip on you was harsh, mean even.
âyou thought i was with someone else?â he immediately challenged.
his eyes were narrowed, scowl evident on his lips as he looked at you harshly, as though the notion was enough to genuinely piss him off. despite his nature, he wasnât one to ever get angry with you, usually directing his annoyance elsewhere but in moments like this, you exasperated him enough that he had no option but to tell you.
âjungkook-â
âmissed two fucking calls,â he hissed at you, pulling you closer, harsher. âand youâre already mapping random shit in your head? you trying to piss me off on purpose?â
heat flooded your face in embarrassment, already feeling heat in your chest with the way he looked so annoyed. you hated how attractive he was.
âthatâs not what i said.â
âyeah?â he scoffed at you openly, one hand moving to the side to grip your waist instead. âyou walked over here in those heels over nothing?â
you hid the insecurity on your face underneath a layer of annoyance, bratty to the core even when you knew you werenât in the right.
âwhatâs it to you? if you donât want me visiting, i wonât come again.â you huffed, pressing him by his shoulders to push him back and away from you.
unfortunately for you, jungkook was made half from stone - unmovable, with biceps thicker than your head, chest and shoulders so broad that it often had your eyelashes fluttering up at him even when you didnât realise.
âdonât try that shit with me, y/n. youâre in your own head about something that isnât real, and youâre taking it out on me.â
his tone was laced with something that had your throat swallowing a lump, your eyes struggling to maintain eye contact due to the heavy, and intense heat in his gaze. he was openly pissed off, and you wished you werenât battling so many emotions at the same time, instead wanting to capitalise on it.
instead of responding, you huffed a little, looking away despite it all. you lifted your chin slightly, ignoring your wandering fingers that were already tracing his tattoos out of habit, grumbling a little under your breath. you hated that he had managed to figure you out so easily, as though he knew the ridges of your brain far more than you yourself, able to peel apart each nasty thought that occupied your thought simply because he could.
you couldnât let him win. you wouldnât.
âmaybe i wouldnât think like this if you just answered your phone.â you huffed back at him, returning the eye contact once you had finally settled into your usual bratty self. âgod forbid i assume my ex husband might actually move on one day. how am i supposed to know what you get up to all day here?â
you laughed once. sharp. mean. defensive.
âwouldnât exactly be shocking, would it?â you hissed once more. âweâre divorced.â
for a moment, silence filled the room, all whilst jungkook remained awfully still in front of you.
a sick part of you felt rewarded in thinking you had managed to hit him right where it hurt, to act as a reminder that despite everything, you were the one in control, but that emotion completely slipped away once you watched him stand up.
he stood to his full height, causing you to tip your head back to maintain the eye contact from your sat position. instead of moving back, his hands dropped from your back and waist.
his left hand rose, fingers immediately darting until they reached your throat, wrapping firmly. enough to push your head towards his, and not enough to hurt, his darkened eyes showcasing the same scary, obsessive streak that had you moaning into your pillow every night.
you could feel dampness between your legs, your heartbeat quickening immediately at the showcase of such dominance above you, your eyelids growing almost hooded whilst he leaned down until your breaths were mingling.
âcareful.â he reminded, for the second time that night, long fingers digging into either side of your neck.
you, who had never learnt a lesson for long enough to actually make a difference a day in your life, couldnât help the look of utter petulance on your face.
âor what?â you spat at him.
within seconds, you were put in a state of vertigo as you were yanked up from your seat. before you could realise what was happening, jungkook had you in his lap, yanked forwards so that your ass was jutted out into the air. your skirt had been pushed up, leaving your tiny panties on show.
âj-jungkook!â you squeaked but he took no notice, your arms going up to wrap around his neck all whilst he planted his palm heavy against your now bare ass.
smack.
you squeaked louder.
he didnât bother saying anything, soothing your ass cheek as though he hadnât just smacked it. that was, until he repeated his action, the noise sounding off of the walls of the office.
smack.
over, and over, and over, and over.
he didnât stop, repeating his action of soothing your ass only to slap it harder, all until you were a mewling mess, whimpering at him like a wounded puppy, his eyes harsher than youâd ever seen him. you felt sore, both of his hands now massaging you despite his growing annoyance.
the office was silent apart from the sound of your shaking breath, all whilst you clung to him, your eyes still matching his in a heavy, tension filled gaze that neither of you could look away from. he wanted to coo at you, wanted to hold you, kiss it better but fuck; he wouldnât have you thinking like this ever again.
âthe problem with you is you think a piece of paper changed shit between us.â he whispered down at you suddenly, voice meaner than youâd ever heard him. your eyelashes fluttered. âmakes you think a judge signing off on some fucking divorce means youâre any less mine.â
âkook..â you whined quietly, causing him to massage deeper.
âthatâs not how this works, baby. get that through your thick skull before i fuck it back into you, you understand me?â he warned, all whilst pushing his head against yours.
your noses touched, rubbing together almost romantically as he nuzzled against you, positioning you better on his lap despite the incessant sting on your ass. he slid your legs over his legs as he brought you closer and closer, his intensely large frame entirely engulfing you.
âweâre not together though..â you whispered at him, the horrible insecurity that remained deep in your bones, the same one you refused to ever show him, bleeding into your tone. âitâs only a matter of time before you meet someone new. even i know that.â
your admission was raw, honest - far more than youâd ever been in a very long time. he knew that, he could see it, especially with the way you felt utterly scared at even letting the words leave your mouth, nibbling on your lip immediately after as though you almost regretted being so truthful.
âwhat you want, y/n? want a ring? iâll marry you today.â he scoffed down at you, as though your words were utter bullshit, anger still heavy in his veins. âyou are my girl. you hear me? you. youâre mine, every bit of you, and iâm yours.â
you swallowed down the lump in your throat, as he began to kiss at your cheek, your nose and jaw, planting promises deep into your skin so that youâd absorb them as truth. he didnât care that you guys werenât together due to a technicality - you were his wife, entirely, fully. no one would ever be able to take that away from him.
the next few hours were spent in a way that felt like home.
he had first spent the first hour just holding you, watching you trace the tattoo peaking from his chest, the colours up and down his arm all whilst nuzzling deeper into him like you hadnât been a bitch to him for no reason. his hands had roamed up and down you, cupping you warmly, touching you at times inappropriately just to have your usual brattiness shine through.
alas, work called, and so he placed you onto the couch in the office, murmuring something about ordering you food before kissing your head, turning to leave. the whine you let out was enough to have him curse under his breath, knowing he spoilt you far too often and thatâs why you were doing what you were.
it wasnât until you were dragging him back to you that he understood exactly what you wanted.
it had been two years since the divorce - no intimacy beside him going down on you here and there, but apart from that, it was all hidden kisses down your neck and gropes on your ass whenever heâd walk past.
that didnât stop him from leaning down, one hand on the head of the sofa beside your head and pressing his lips to yours.
the breathy sound that escaped you from being kissed by him was truly enough to drive a man like jungkook wild, his lips moving, guiding, encouraging you to catch up with him. you did exactly that, hands yanking him further down until you could wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him as though this was the most natural thing you knew how to do.
he was your husband, after all.
parting from his lips, you both watched as a thin string of saliva separated you.
standing up tall had your eyes falling to the evident bulge in his utility trousers, your eyelashes fluttering up at him as you pretended to be indifferent to it. you hummed a little, raising your hand. âyou can go now.â
the corner of his lip lifted.
such a fucking minx.
the rest of the day had him popping into the office, bringing you food, spending time with you whenever it was quiet. you gave him a haul at one point, showing him all the things you had bought with his hard earned money, even mentioning the bag you had eyed up earlier.
his response?
he had tilted his head in confusion, asking you why you didnât buy it despite you telling him the price tag.
you had never been wetter.
by the time the garage was closing, he had you in the car, bags already put into the boot, whilst a heavy hand sat on your thigh, driving you home.
it felt like something had completely shifted between you now the unspoken had been spoken. it made you feel good, but you wanted more, craved it - you had spent so long pushing him away, even when you were married, that you had forgotten what it was like just to give into his affections. even slightly, it felt fulfilling in a way that left you hungry.
once your driveway came into view, you already knew he was gonna stay the night. it was common enough, usually forcing him to stay in the guest room like you wouldnât be up all night wishing he would just come in already. alas, you had married, and divorced, a respectful man.
âkids coming back tomorrow morning?â he asked as he parked up, both of you walking to the door, all of the bags in his hand.
âafternoon.â you corrected over your shoulder, eyes meeting his. you watched as his eyes lifted from your ass in your tiny skirt, cheeks already slightly bruised and red from your earlier spankings, only for his gaze to lift back up to you.
he didnât respond, simply following you in, locking the door behind him as you slipped off your heels.
âmy feet hurt.â you huffed a little to yourself whilst flexing your toes a little.
he let out a slight laugh, placing your bags down on the kitchen table before grabbing you by the waist, lips attacking your neck almost immediately. your back hit his chest as he took a hold of your personal space, breathing in your floral scent now that you were all alone, with no one to interrupt.
no kids.
no garage.
nothing but the two of you and the dying tension between you.
âugh!â you huffed, brattiness at an all time high, despite tilting your head so he could kiss you further. âyou stink.â
âyeah?â he continued his kisses, fingers digging into your hips. âgonna join me in the shower?â
you rolled your eyes, just as he twirled you, towering over you so easily that you found yourself tilting your head just to be able to meet his gaze. his hardened jaw, the feel of his abs where your hands sat on his stomach - you hated him.
âyou wish.â you retorted, just as his hands drifted down to your ass.
a large hand smoothed your ass, causing you to wince up at him a little, falling further into his chest causing him to laugh. you swatted his chest with a huff, hissing at him.
âmeet me in there in two.â he whispered into your ear, squeezing once more before you huffed again, walking upstairs to your own room.
within the next five minutes, the water had been turned on, and jungkook had pulled his t-shirt off, grunting a little as he undressed in what he had always deemed to be a too small bathroom. it wasnât until the door opened and he watched you walk in, just as the water had begun to spray down onto his chest, that he felt his stomach tighten.
he watched as you undressed, clothes pooling at your feet, your bra and panties dropping in seconds all whilst you joined him in the shower, almost paying him no mind as though he too wasnât here. it wasnât until you stepped back into him, letting the water hit your body instead of his that he properly yanked you back, bodies suddenly flushed against each other.
he tilted your head for the millionth time that day, lips grazing over your pulse, kissing as though he truly couldnât get enough. he hummed against it, tongue tracing over it as his hands openly began running up and down you, clutching your breasts, your thighs, your stomach.
he loved when you acted like this. all snooty, as though he was beneath you despite your legs parting just as his hands drifted down. his, bratty girl. what a dream.
âmissed this.â he whispered into your ear, just as you reached for the body wash.
âneed to wash my body.â you huffed back, looking over your shoulder at him in that familiar bitchy way, only for him to lean downwards towards your face.
he grinned, twisting you properly in his arms so that you were actually facing him. the glare you gave him was enough to have his cock twitching against you, causing you to look down momentarily.
you could have sighed out of content, feeling it against you, so, so thick. so large, pressed against his stomach as he openly admired you, his own hands roaming over you as though he had every right.
the last time you had both hooked up was after you had signed the divorce papers. he had pounded you in the courthouse bathroom, with a hand over your mouth, and a hiss in your ear reminding you that no matter what, you still belonged to him, to which you had nodded, promising him. you were both so fucked for each other it was unreal.
queue two years later, you hadnât actually seen his cock in so long despite having craved it for what felt like eons. despite what you felt, you knew you couldnât bring yourself to cave in, yearning for something more than just sex and you couldnât afford to get attached without it.
here you were, with that exact thing.
you were both so fucked in the head when it came to one another, with jungkook even going so far as to make a dildo for you that replicated his cock, just so you could pleasure yourself the exact way you wanted. it killed him inside to know you used it every night instead of using him, but with you in his arms right now, he hardly gave a fuck.
he watched as you lifted one of your hands, fingers brushing against the tip, all whilst your big eyes fluttered up at him in a sort of faux innocence. he cupped your hand, bringing it to his lips, before wrapping it around his cock properly.
you let out another sigh of content as you pumped him, up and down, all whilst water cascaded down onto both of your bodies. his head pressed against yours, lips brushing against one another so naturally it felt innate to the both of you.
his breath hitched just slightly as you used both hands, your heart fluttering at the feel of him so intimately against you.
âmy pretty girl.â he pressed sweet pecks to your lips, whilst you tilted your head up at him, his hands openly massaging your ass again.
âso big.â you whispered back at him with a little sigh, thumb tracing over his slitted tip. âyeah? been stretching yourself out every night on your own?â
âtrying to.â you mumbled back. his hand cupped yours, guiding you faster. âjust too big sometimes to do it on my own.â
his eyes closed at your words, letting out a shaking breath, gripping you so much tighter before opening them up once more. he nudged his nose against yours, before pressing his lips harshly to yours.
your lips immediately moved in unison, bodies aligning as you both pumped his cock as though you couldnât get enough of one another. tongues wrapped until they became one, your soft moans gliding through the falling water as jungkook pushed, and pushed and pushed until you were pressed against the wall.
by the time he was parting from your lips, you were a panting mess, your chest rising and falling. your hand dropped from his cock as he lifted you in his arms, your back pressed against the cool tile whilst he took your left breast in his mouth. sucking, biting, moaning - he was a mess against you, your hands pulling at his long strands that were growing damper by the second from the falling water.
the moan of his name on your tongue had him hissing, moving to your right breast. you had become a mural, a physical manifestation of his morbid love as he decorated you in purple bruises, your big eyes closing in sheer pleasure.
âdonât wanna wait anymore.â you whimpered at him, shaking your head as you began to pull his hair off of you.
he hissed a little from the shot of pain, not afraid to admit his cock twitched from the shock of it. at that, he gave your ass another smack, watching the way you squeaked before narrowing your eyes at him with a loud huff.
âneed to stretch you out before i fuck you.â he grunted at you, both of your cheeks flushed from the steam of the shower.
âi donât care. want it now.â
âstop being a fucking brat.â he hissed again, spanking you for the umpteenth time, your poor ass bruised.
you slid down from his arms, narrowing your eyes at him as you cheekily turned away. he stuck his tongue deep into his cheek as he watched you, soap suds washing down your body before you reached for a towel, sliding out before he could even stop you, only to watch you slip out of the bathroom immediately.
he wanted to curse. his cock had never been so hard in his life, and oh, the things he wanted to do to you - he felt like a born again virgin, having been celibate the second you had pushed him away after the courthouse fiasco. he matched your movements, washing his body before grabbing a towel, drying himself off and walking to your room.
the sight of you on the bed, sat, still in the towel, huffing a little as you checked your nails, pretending to be completely disinterested in him had his jaw ticking again. such a fucking brat.
you opened your mouth, no doubt to spew some utter bullshit to rile him up, but he didnât give you a chance. within seconds, he had his hands on you, dropping you fully onto the bed, hovering over you, both towels on the ground almost immediately.
the sight of him on top of you, inbetween your legs had you rendered speechless for the first time in eons, a shaking gasp leaving you. it was the feel of his cock running up and down your already weeping pussy that had you actually letting out loud whimpers and whines, rotating your hips in hopes you could finally get what you wanted.
âspoilt rotten. thatâs your fucking problem.â he hissed at you, grabbing your face with one of his hands, forcing you to look at him. âalways get what you want.â
âbecause you always wanna give it to me.â you whimpered back at him, grabbing onto his shoulders before raising your legs higher, begging for more.
he hated how true your statement was.
before you could think, jungkook lined himself and began to push inside, all whilst watching your eyes widen only for them to shut tightly.
euphoric. that was the only, single emotion he could describe the feeling of his cock being hugged by your velvet walls after so long, your pussy clinging to him almost as desperately as he pushed and pushed until he was entirely inside of you. you couldnât breathe, not when you swore you could feel him inside your stomach, your fingers digging so deeply into his shoulders you swore youâd scar him.
even when you masturbated on your own with the dildo, you struggled to take him fully, but having him all but bullying his cock inside of you, making sure you took it all? nothing had never felt better, with his sheer size stretching a home deep inside of you, one that you had missed more than anything else.
âjungkook.â you mewled out, lip already about to quiver.
god.
he had dreamt of this exact situation.
you, underneath him, chest rising and falling whilst your tits were decorated in bruises, symbols of his devotion to you. his cock, thick and heavy, deep inside of you as he watched you quiver trying to accommodate for him despite knowing it was all too much. god, he had dreamt indeed and yet it paled in comparison to what he was seeing.
two years.
two years of being denied this, and here he was, finally claiming his girl once more.
instead of letting you adjust, jungkook grabbed the bottoms of your thighs, lifting them slightly before beginning to thrust.
had you been a normal girl, he would have been gentler, kinder, maybe even sweeter but he knew you better than anyone else. you were a slut for him, through and through - couldnât cum unless he was mean to your pussy.
and so, he did what any good ex husband would do.
he pounded.
your moans turned into loud whines of pleasure, back arching as jungkook set out a pace that you certainly couldnât keep up with, scratching over his shoulders and biceps almost desperately. the chant of his name echoed around the room, only adding to his pace, his head pressing against yours.
âlook at you.â he grunted loudly, hips slapping against hips, skin smacking against skin. âneeded this so bad, didnât you?â
âso bad.â you whined, with a shaking nod.
âthatâs my girl.â he kissed your nose almost romantically, only making you whimper as he pushed your thighs against your chest, before pressing down on you.
the new position had your back curling upwards as you somehow managed to feel him so much deeper, your hands now shaking in the confinements of his hair. you couldnât stop thrashing, as though all of the begging to get him to fuck you without actually prepping you were all stupid ramblings now that you couldnât take it.
he loved the sight. there was nothing jungkook loved more than watching you grow more cockdrunk by the minute, what with the way your eyes were rolling to the back of your head, drool beginning to drip by the corner of your mouth.
he had never been more in love with you.
he pounded you over and over, coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of you until you were an overwhelmed mess, sobbing in his arms whilst trying to shut your legs around him, the overstimulation only gripping you by the throat meanly. by your fourth orgasm, you were babbling utter nonsense, a mixture of tears, mascara and drool all over you.
he had tapped your jaw with his hand, only for you to open up, watching him spit in your mouth. you clenched around him hard just as you swallowed, the sight something he knew heâd replay for time to come over and over over.
âso fucking tight.â he hissed down at you.
your positions had changed, with the both of you on your sides as he thrusted into you, his lips attacking the side of your face and shoulder all whilst you clung to the pillow in front of you, poor pussy leaking on either side of him. you were being ruined in real time.
âgonna get you nice and round baby. youâd like that, hm? like it when kookie fucks his cum into you?â he cooed down at you, condescending enough to have your brain begging for mercy. all you could muster was a loud moan, back arching into him at the promise of another baby. âplease. want it so bad.â
âyeah?â he hissed, thrusts only getting meaner. âfuckâŚgotta put a ring on your finger first.â
at that, your legs began to shake.
âgonna take you out tomorrow morning. gonna cum nice and deep inside of you, and take you ring shopping so you can get what you want, hm?â he hissed down at you through his heavy breaths. âgonna be a good girl for me?â
âmhm..iâll be so good, k-kookie. promise.â you whimpered.
jungkook gave you a hard thrust. he knew it was a lie.
âshouldâve never let you go, baby. been missing my girl so much. shouldâve kept you nice and full like you deserve.â he bit down on your shoulder. âbut jungkookâs gonna fix it. just need you to cum for me, sweetheart.â
it was like he had control over your mind and body. your orgasm erupted through your body, clamping harshly onto his cock, causing him to choke as his thrusts faltered, already on the edge. waves of excruciating pleasure ran through you, grabbing you at every angle all whilst you coaxed him into his own orgasm, his loud grunts echoing off of the walls.
you could feel his hot cum reach all the way into your womb - a promise of what was to come, an assurance for the future. the thought of having more of his children only stretched out your orgasm as you cried out his name, his large fingers harsh on your clit to really force you over the edge.
by the time you were both settling down, you were a shaking mess.
cum plugged inside of you as he refused to pull out just yet, your bodies both sweating, hair a mess, makeup utterly ruined. jungkook had never seen you look so pretty, wanting nothing more than to propose to you right then and there, but even he knew you deserved far better than that.
it was when only ten minutes later, he turned you fully after pulling out, did he plant soft kisses to your face, all whilst fingering his cum back inside of you. you cried in oversensitivity, only causing him to coo at you, whispering sweet nothings about how good you had taken him, about how he needed the cum to stick to get you round and pregnant.
you could feel your eyes drooping as he took care of you, manoeuvring your body until it was utterly engulfed by his, your body sore and mind free.
for the first time in two years, you felt like you were home.
â
true to his promise, you were both out of the house by the early morning.
also true to his word, you were currently stuffed with cum, littered in an array of hickeys both from the previous evening and that morning, causing you to choose an uncharacteristically modest outfit for the day. you had hissed at him all the way to the shop, huffing at having to hide your body in full length clothing only for him to smirk quietly to himself.
he couldnât get enough of you.
still bitching, still whining - he had stopped pretending like he didnât like it, especially when you could see right through him. he was yours, yes, but oh how you were his. he had woken you up to his mouth on your clit, coaxing you to a sweet orgasm before fucking you with the promises of a life even grander than the one you were currently living. that alone had gotten three orgasms out of you.
now, you were in the ring shop, frowning, flicking your hair and rolling your eyes at him with every ring you were shown, rudely grumbling over how it just wasnât the one.
the one you had on was beautiful, which only irritated you more.
you made the effort of moving your hand in three separate angles, turning it to the light, turning your wrist away. the diamond caught every flicker, as it shon and sang to you, all whilst you pursed your lips.
âi donât like it.â
the jeweller openly frowned at you.
this had been the tenth ring he had shown you, and none of them made you happy. none were the ring you had envisioned, wanting something different and yet something classic, the oxymoron killing you from the inside out.
whilst the man behind the counter was quite startled by your behaviour, jungkook was certainly not.
he stood beside you, t shirt stretched over his figure deliciously, arm heavy around your waist as he maintained you flushed against his figure no matter how bitchy you were being with him. it only had him tightening his fingers on you.
you continued your comments to the jeweller as he showed you more and more rings, before he sensed the growing tension, leaving you both be for a moment. once you were alone on the shop floor, jungkook nudged you a little so youâd look up at him.
âenough.â
the word was quiet. commanding. enough to have your pussy clenching despite how sore you already were, not that it was enough to stop you wanting him in every single way. unfortunately, despite your lapse in demeanour the night before, you werenât willing to let it show easily again.
you huffed. ânone of these are right.â
âyouâre being nitpicky on purpose.â
âmaybe i just have standards.â you rolled your eyes at him, making a show of crossing your arms across your chest.
it was his turn to make his eyes narrow down at you meanly.
âyou done?â he asked, with a small hiss. âyour ass not sore enough, y/n?â
you grit your teeth as you willed yourself to be quiet, wanting nothing more than to rebut at him but even you knew jeon jungkook was certainly not above spanking you in a jewellery shop, especially if it meant youâd actually shut up. so, instead, you found yourself huffing a little at him again, picking at your manicure.
âjust donât wanna pick the wrong one.â you admitted in a much smaller voice, refusing to meet his eyes as you ruined your french tips, frown heavy on your face.
the admission was quiet, barely above a mumble but it hit jungkook right in his chest, knowing that despite the rushed nature of everything, this symbolised something so much bigger. starting again when the first time around had been a rush in itself was scary, especially when the stakes were so much higher this time. sure, you had been divorced once and you were marrying him again but you knew this meant you guys would actually have to work through your annoyances with one another.
the thought honestly scared you.
his devotion, his obsession, his incessant need to have you in his arms whether you liked him or not was reciprocated heavily by yourself, only masked with an air of indifference.
âbaby.â
he pulled you out of your thoughts, making you look up through your lashes.
âbuy as many as you fucking want. you want seven, huh? all days of the week?â he narrowed his eyes down at you. âthere isnât a wrong one, so get that out of your head.â
for the first time in that interaction, you properly turned into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck with a soft sigh of content at his words. good answer, you thought, as you nuzzled into his neck, all whilst he pushed you against the jewellery counter.
by the time the owner had come back, you had finally made your selection, feeling almost shy as you watched jungkook pay for it. sure, you spent his money without thinking, but you were quickly realising how much better it felt with him beside you actually taking charge of the transaction part. the thought began to fester all over you as he signed the receipt, turning to walk you out as the jeweller began sizing the rings immediately.
unfortunately for him, you pressed your lips to his cheek in the sweetest action you could muster. judging from the flip in your eyes, the way affection swirled in them, he knew you wanted something.
âwhat?â he grunted.
âso..remember that bag?â
â
my babies!! iâm back!!
my first fic / one shot since the mature label got slapped on my page which means half of my followers wonât see this but iâm keeping optimistic!!
as usual, let me know your thoughts, i loveeeee reading your guysâ comments and asks so feel free to keep me in the loop with what youâre thinking
if you wanna support a bad b pay her london rent, my kofi is here <3
warnings: nsfw (minors dni!!), age gap (like 15-20 years), power dynamics, not established dom/sub undertones, brat tamer jk if you squint, he also has glasses, oral (f rec), fingering, making out, use of petnames, dirty talk, finger sucking, one science pun (?) , i basically know nothing about biology so beware
the cold air clung to the campus as y/n hurried through the crowded parking lot, desperately trying to make it to class on time. she had woken up earlier that morning to the shrill sound of her alarm, only to realize that she had slept in. in a panic, she threw on the first clothes she could find and rushed out the door.
by the time she reached the lecture hall, slightly out of breath and cheeks flushed from the cold, dr. jeonâs lecture had already begun.
the door shut behind her with a quiet thud that still seemed unbearably loud in the otherwise silent room. dozens of eyes flickered toward her for only a second before returning to the front, but it was enough to make embarrassment crawl up her neck. she was usually never late to his classes since she was his phd student.
dr. jeon continued speaking without pause as y/n carefully moved down the steps between rows, trying not to draw any more attention to herself. she sat near her usual seat on the front row, taking out her materials. dr. jeon was wearing a white shirt with a black tie, his jacket draped over the back of his seat.
"the human body is less an individual and more a crowded city, built and sustained by trillions of bacteria we rarely notice until something goes wrong." dr. jeon spoke up, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. "everyday items you use from your phones to the coffee cup you hold every morning when you enter my class is covered with it."
he placed his glasses on the desk and rubbed his eyes. "i have to end my class early today as i have a meeting i need to attend, so i would like all of you to collect a bacterial sample from the surface of your choice and culture it. document the growth and bring your report to the me next week."
the students started gathering their stuffs and standing up, content to be let out early. y/n sighed at the fact that she ran all this way for a not even ten minutes long lecture. she stood up to exit the lecture hall before dr. jeon called out to her.
"ms. l/n, can you stay back for a minute?"
she nodded and walked up to his desk as the other students exited the door one by one. he placed his work materials inside his briefcase and leaned against the desk as he held and loosened his tie. y/n's eyes flickered to his throat for a second.
"i wanted to talk to you about your draft."
she involuntarily straightened her back and nodded.
"your research is strong, the data is clean, i like your methodology," he started listing.
"i feel like there's a 'but' coming." y/n said and offered him an awkward smile.
"but you write like you are scared of sounding too certain. if you think something is correct, don't be afraid to stand behind it."
she nodded slowly, knowing he was right.
"it sounds like you're asking permission to believe your own argument," he continued. "stop doing that."
something in his tone caused heat to unfurl slowly beneath her skin. it settled heavily in the room as she could only nod once again. she always pushed it aside as a stupid harmless crush on a professor who seemed to be very good at his job but the swirling in her stomach said otherwise.
"i would like you to come by tomorrow evening to work on your draft together if you're available." he reached for his glasses on the desk and put them on before crossing his arms.
"of course, yeah. i can come by."
âgood.â
he slipped the glasses back onto the bridge of his nose before looking down at her again. his eyes were soft as he tilted his head.
âaround seven?â he asked. "you can come earlier if you'd like a head start."
y/n nodded. âthat works.â
he gave a quiet hum of acknowledgment and gathered the remaining papers from the desk. the conversation should have ended there. simple. professional.
but neither of them moved toward the door.
she watched him slide folders carefully into his briefcase, sleeves still rolled to his forearms, tie loosened just enough to make him look less composed than usual.
âyou, uh, really think the argument is strong enough?â she asked softly.
he looked up immediately, a sweet smile on his face.
"i wouldn't be asking you to come over after office hours if i didn't. would i, kid?"
she shook her head, fixing the strap of her bag.
"don't stress it, sweetheart. you got potential."
the endearment caused something in her brain to short-circuit. heat rushed through her so quickly it felt almost embarrassing, blooming beneath her skin and climbing into her face before she could suppress it. she stared at him, momentarily unable to process the fact that he had said it so naturally, so casually, like the word belonged in the space between them.
he didnât seem to notice the effect it had on herâor maybe he did and chose not to acknowledge it. he checked his watch with the same composed movements, glasses low on his nose, completely unaware that her pulse had become suddenly uneven. y/n swallowed hard and forced herself to look anywhere except directly at him. stupid crush.
"i should get going now, i will be expecting you here tomorrow."
she attended her classes for the next few hours before deciding to walk back home with a dry mouth and a thumping heart. she tried to tell herself that dr. jeon was always like this with her. he wanted her to feel comfortable with the work she's been doing both in his class and her own researches. he would help her extra in the lab during lectures because she was passionate about biology. at least that was what she always told herself.
the night air was cold enough to sting her face as she crossed campus with her headphones hanging uselessly around her neck, too mentally drained to listen to music due to her headache.
most of the buildings were empty, except for the coffee shop near the library.
warm yellow light spilled through the windows onto the wet pavement outside, catching her attention as she walked past by.
and then she saw him.
dr. jeon stood near the counter with a woman she didnât recognize as they were laughing about something.
he held two coffees in his hand while the woman adjusted the scarf around her neck, smiling at something he had said. she was beautiful in a quiet effortless wayâlong dark coat, one hand resting briefly against his arm while she spoke.
she slowed without meaning to. something uncomfortable twisted low in her stomach.
the street outside her apartment glistened faintly from earlier rain, reflecting blurred orange light through her windows as she dropped her bag beside the couch and kicked off her shoes near the door. the silence inside the apartment should have calmed her. instead, it gave her thoughts too much room. she tried to work, she really did.
her laptop sat open on the kitchen table beside scattered research articles and annotated drafts, the cursor blinking patiently at the end of an unfinished sentence while the clock crept steadily past midnight.
âŚis an aggressive clonal malignancy characterized byâ
she deleted the line.
rewrote it.
then deleted it again.
it was going to be a long night.
by three in the morning, the words on her screen had begun to blur together into meaningless medical jargon. she had consumed enough coffee to make her hands faintly unsteady, and her apartment smelled like stale espresso. and the worst of it all the draft still looked wrong. her calculations looked a mess and every sentence sounded weaker the second she reread it, and somewhere in the back of her mind she could still hear his voice dismantling her cautious phrasing with irritating ease.
if you think something is correct, donât be afraid to stand behind it.
she hated that he was right.
around 4.30 a.m., she gave up pretending she was getting anything useful done.
she closed the laptop harder than necessary and let her forehead fall briefly against the cool kitchen table with a muffled groan. exhaustion pressed heavily behind her eyes, making everything feel sharper and slower at the same time. she had maybe slept two hours before waking up unnecessarily early. where was this yesterday? she thought to herself.
by the evening, she was cranky, overtired, and deeply regretting every academic decision that had led her into a phd program. still, her body moved to get ready despite it all. she haphazardly shoved her papers into her bag and exited her flat.
the campus was quiet, washed in thin dark blue and damp from the rain. her sneakers scraped against the wet pavement as she walked toward the biology building, shoulders tense against the cold.
she adjusted the strap of her bag higher onto her shoulder and headed toward dr. jeonâs lecture hall, already mentally preparing herself to spend the next several hours fighting with her draft.
he was already there when she entered the unlocked room. he sat at his desk with his sleeves rolled to his forearms again, one hand pressed absently against his mouth while reading through a stack of papers illuminated by the glow of his laptop screen. his glasses rested low on his nose, expression tired and concentrated in a way that made his face stern.
he didn't notice her at first, then the door clicked softly shut behind her. his eyes lifted from the papers as he stared at her through the top of his glasses.
"hey there, rough night?"
she let out a tired scoff that almost sounded ironic and dropped her bag onto one of the desks near the front.
"how did you guess?"
âyouâre here thirty minutes early,â he said. âeither youâre incredibly motivated or severely sleep deprived.â
the irritating part was that he sounded genuinely pleased about it. for a while, the room settled into silence while the two of them worked. y/n sat a few rows down from the front with her laptop open beside scattered papers, one leg tucked beneath her while she reread the same paragraph for what felt like the hundredth time. the glow from the screen reflected faintly against her tired face while her fingers hovered over the keyboard, typing, deleting, rewriting.
across the room, dr. jeon worked at his desk, flipping through articles and making occasional notes in the margins with precise movements. every so often his head would lift briefly to look at her aggressively tapping at the keyboard. the irritation radiating off her was almost visible. she deleted another sentence with unnecessary force before muttering something under her breath that he couldnât quite hear from across the room.
"did that keyboard personally offend you?" he spoke up without lifting his head this time.
y/n stopped typing mid-sentence.
slowly, she lifted her head to glare at him from across the lecture hall. "huh?"
dr. jeon finally looked up from the papers spread across his desk, expression calm behind the thin frames of his glasses.
âyou type like youâre trying to punish the laptop for disagreeing with you.â
y/n stared at him for a second before dropping her gaze back to the screen with a tired scoff.
"tired." her voice sounded uncharacteristically cold compared to how she usually talked to him.
dr. jeonâs pen paused against the paper.
y/n kept her eyes fixed on the screen, jaw tight as she pressed her fingers against her temple. exhaustion had scraped her patience thin hours ago, leaving her feeling raw around the edges. every sentence in her draft irritated her. every sound felt slightly too loud. and for some fucking reason she couldn't stop thinking about him and that woman from yesterday.
she heard the soft rustle of papers being set aside before dr. jeon walked closer to her with calculated steps.
"y/n." his voice wasn't particularly stern, just certain to catch her attention. "what's going on?"
she kept her eyes on the laptop screen even after he stopped beside her desk.
ânothing,â she said automatically.
the lie sounded thin the second it left her mouth.
dr. jeon remained standing there for a moment, one hand resting lightly against the edge of the desk while he looked down at her.
"you've been huffing for hours and acting like your laptop wronged you. i'm not stupid, try again."
"i'm just frustrated."
she could feel his attention on her face as she refused to meet his gaze.
"with me?"
she was taken aback by the question. he couldn't possibly know, right?
"whaâ no."
"then look at me when i'm talking."
she stared at the blinking cursor while embarrassment crept slowly beneath her skin. she wasnât usually like this with him. normally she could keep up with whatever this was without letting him see when something got under her skin. she took a deep breath before raising her head.
"this draft is kicking my ass and i have deadlines."
âyou also have a functioning nervous system youâre actively trying to destroy.â
she scoffed again before chuckling bitterly. "with all due respect, i don't think it's any of your business."
the words hung in the air longer than she intended them to. the bitterness in her voice surprised even her and for a second, dr. jeon said nothing. he just looked at her.
he then sighed and took his glasses off to rub his face before putting them back on.
"alright. we're doing this, huh? what's going on with you?"
y/n immediately regretted saying it aloud. she was tired, overwhelmed and jealous because she saw the professor she had a stupid crush on with some other woman. she pressed her lips together tightly, trying to force the thoughts back down before they reached her face. dr. jeon was still standing beside the desk, watching her carefully now.
âiâm justâŚâ she started, then stopped immediately and looked away again because she had no idea how to finish that sentence without sounding completely insane. "why do you care?" she said abruptly.
dr. jeon licked his lips before gripping her chin between his thumb and forefinger.
"because you're making it my problem."
the touch startled her so badly her breath caught.
warm fingers against her chin, firm enough to guide her attention back toward him but not forceful. the gesture felt dangerously intimate in the quiet lecture hall, especially paired with the low steadiness of his voice. she froze.
his eyes searched hers carefully, concern and something sharper flickering briefly beneath his usual composure.
she just looked up at him with expectant eyes like he could possibly read her mind to save her from the humiliation. his thumb remained still against her jaw, warm and grounding and entirely too distracting. y/n could feel her pulse everywhere at once nowâthroat, wrists, the space beneath her ribs tightening painfully beneath the weight of his attention.
"you're pissed about something and i really don't think it's the deadlines or the stupid draft, sweetheart."
y/nâs stomach twisted because he was right. and because she had the terrible feeling he already knew that.
she swallowed hard, eyes dropping briefly to the loosened collar of his shirt before forcing herself to look away again. his hand was still lightly holding her jaw, enough that she could feel the warmth of his skin spreading through her entire body like a fever.
the silence stretched and she could feel herself losing the ability to think coherently under his attention.
âiâm not pissed,â she said weakly.
dr. jeonâs eyebrows lifted slightly.
the expression was almost enough to make her crack on its own.
his thumb moved once against her jaw in a slow absentminded motion that completely destroyed whatever remained of her concentration.
"i can't help you if you keep sulking and don't tell me, kid. now, are you going to stop being a brat and tell me what's bothering you?" he said sternly.
okay, she thought squeezing her thighs together under the table, getting scolded shouldn't be getting you this wet.
"i saw you yesterday."
dr. jeon seemed genuinely puzzled. of course she'd seen him yesterday. she had her class, no? she huffed once more like what she was trying to say was the most obvious thing in the world.
"at the coffee shop."
dr. jeon furrowed his eyebrows, trying to understand what she was talking about. then he did, his neighbour. he took a deep breath and sighed.
"is that why you've had an attitude all day? because you saw me with my neighbour?"
"neighbour?"
"yes, neighbour. her kid is apparently taking one of my courses."
she felt even more embarrassed now. her getting jealous was one thing, now he knew she was jealous because he had a friend.
"why did it bother you so much?" he sounded curious, his voice low.
she stayed quiet. the silence stretched long enough that he shifted his weight and dropped his hand from her face to place them on his hips with an accusatory look.
âwell?â he asked softly.
âit didnât.â she muttered.
a quiet huff of amusement left him. âagain, youâre a terrible liar.â
she closed her eyes for a second. of course she was.
âit's stupid.â she said finally.
âi didnât say it was.â
âit is.â she swallowed hard. âyour personal life shouldn't bother me.â
âno,â he agreed, still strangely calm. âyet you hated seeing me talk to her.â
her cheeks burned hotter.
when she didnât deny it, the room grew quieter somehow.
"tell me why it bothered you."
the answer sat painfully in her throat.
because lately every small thing about him felt dangerous. because sheâd started expecting his attention without realizing it. because seeing someone else have it so easily had made something ugly and sharp twist inside her chest.
"i'm just trying to understand, honey."
again, the newly acquired term of endearment caused her stomach to flip. her lips pulled into a pout.
dr. jeon's hand moved to grip her chin once again, freeing her bottom lip from her upper lip. he sighed, eyes solely focused on her mouth as he swiped his thumb once. he swallowed hard once her lips parted upon his touch.
"you have no idea what you do to me, do you?"
she would speak up and ask him what he meant if she trusted herself to form coherent sentences.
"do you think it's easy watching you come in my class and sit on the front row hanging onto my every word? i've been going crazy telling myself you're too young and my fucking student."
her eyes widened at his words. did dr. jeon just admit thinking about her?
"dr. jeonâŚ" she whispered.
all those weeks of stolen glances across the lecture hall, the way his gaze lingered a second too long whenever she answered a question, the tension she thought she'd imagined â suddenly it all felt painfully real.
"i've been trying not to want you. all this time. and now you come here today with an attitude, adamant on not admitting that you're jealous because you saw me with another woman."
her face burned hot, his thumb still toying with her bottom lip.
"is this what you wanted? you walked in here glaring at me before i even said a word to you because you wanted my attention?"
she weakly nodded, her eyes glazed over with pure want.
he pushed his thumb between her lips, lightly tapping her cheek with the other two. she parted her lips further, taking his thumb in her mouth. she closed her eyes and savored the salty taste on her tongue. dr. jeon's gaze was concentrated on his fingers, how she easily accepted whatever he decided on doing.
his breath visibly slowed at the sight like he hadn't expected her to obey so easily.
her lips were warm around his thumb, eyes shut, expression softening into something that made restraint look painful on him. his gaze stayed fixed on her mouth, jaw tense enough that she could see the muscle tick if she opened her eyes.
"fuck," he muttered under his breath.
the sound alone made her stomach twist.
his eyes flicked back up to hers as she opened them. there was something almost disbelieving in his expression now, like the reality of this moment was finally catching up to him.
"you sit in my lectures looking at me like that," he said, voice rough, "and then you act surprised that i notice?"
heat spread across her entire body at the accusation because she had looked at him like this before. she just hadn't realized how obvious it was. he slowly pulled his thumb from her mouth, and she whined at the loss. whined. he cleared his throat once before pulling back.
"fuck, what am i doing?" he whispered to himself.
she immediately felt the loss of him.
"dr. jeonâ"
"don't." his voice cracked slightly before he steadied it. "don't look at me like that right now."
her chest tightened. and despite the distance he'd put between them, his eyes were still fixed on her mouth.
still wanting.
he let out a humourless laugh under his breath, shaking his head once. "i spent months convincing myself this was wrong and that i should get over it. shit, you're like half my age."
that caused her to rub her thighs together again, but this time dr. jeon caught her whole body move. his eyes dropped down slightly.
"you get off on this?" his hand flexed at his side like he was resisting the urge to touch her again.
"c`mere." he mumbled walking toward the whiteboard. she swallowed hard and stood up to follow him.
when she stood in front of him, he pushed her against the board with a soft thud. his fingers gripped her hips as her hands flew to his biceps. he was built firmer than she expected.
"tell me to stop." their noses were nearly touching, his breath hot against her mouth.
"please."
"please what? you want me to keep going or stop?"
her breath caught in her throat.
the board pressed cold against her back, completely opposite to the heat radiating from him. his hands on her hips felt almost possessive.
she could feel the tension in his body like he was one second away from either kissing her or forcing himself to walk away.
"please," she repeated weakly.
his eyes searched hers carefully.
"that's not an answer."
their noses brushed slightly when she inhaled shakily, and the tiny contact seemed to affect him just as much as it affected her. his grip tightened for half a second before easing again.
"tell me what you want." he said softly.
"i want you to kiss me." she whispered.
"that wasn't so hard, was it?"
her heart hammered painfully against her ribs as his gaze dropped to her lips again. this close, she could see the restraint still fighting behind his eyes.
like kissing her meant crossing a line he wouldn't be able to uncross.
his hand slid a little higher along her waist before stopping there, fingers flexing against her side.
"you're going to ruin me." he said quietly.
then he kissed her. it was slow, careful at first.
his lips were warm and softer than she'd imagined, and the second she kissed him back, she felt the controlled breath leave him entirely.
one of his hands moved to her jaw instinctively, tilting her face deeper into the kiss while the other kept her close against him.
the sound he made against her mouth was low and restrained, almost frustrated from how long he'd denied himself this. his teeth sinking into her bottom lip caused her to gasp and he took the opportunity to push his tongue in her mouth.
his hand slid into her hair, gripping softly while the other stayed firm against her waist, keeping her pressed close enough that she could feel how uneven his breathing had become.
every kiss felt like he was trying to savor her while also fighting the urge to lose control completely.
when she shifted against him, he let out a low sound under his breath and finally broke away just enough to look at her.
his lips were swollen and he was breathing hard. then he moved her until the back of her legs hit his desk. he lifted her easily onto his desk behind.
he stepped between her knees immediately, one hand raising to hold her jaw again while the other settled on her thigh instinctively, thumb stroking once through the fabric there.
her fingers gripped his shoulders tightly, pulling him back in for another desperate kiss. "half my age," he mumbled against her lips. "my student. this should've stayed in my head."
he pulled back just enough to leave her lips swollen and breathless before his mouth trailed along her jaw instead.
the change made her inhale sharply.
his hand tightened slightly on her thigh as he pressed another slow kiss beneath her ear, lingering there for a second longer than necessary.
"fuck, dr. jeon, pleaseâŚ" she whined, her fingers carding through his disheveled hair.
"patience, kid, i got you."
she should've hated how easily it affected her, but the low reassurance in his voice only made her cling to him tighter.
his lips curved faintly against her skin when she shivered beneath him.
"yeah," he murmured softly. "that's it."
his hand slid from her thigh to her waist again, steadying her when she instinctively leaned closer for more. he kissed the side of her neck once more, slower this time, before lifting his head just enough to look at her properly.
her flushed cheeks, swollen lips, the way she was looking at him like she'd forgotten how to think clearly and it visibly affected him all over again.
his thumb brushed gently beneath her jaw.
"you know how pretty you sound when you say my name like that?" he asked quietly. "had to hold myself back from getting on my knees in class every time you said it. good that i don't have to now."
he kissed her again as his hand travelled down to undo her jeans. he pulled them down with himself when he kneeled between her thighs.
her panties were already wet when he made eye contact with it.
for a second, he just stayed there between her knees, hands gripping her thighs a little tighter like he was trying to remember how to breathe.
âyouâre killing me.â he groaned, planting soft kisses to the inside of her thighs. he bit the soft meat which was dangerously close to her clothed core.
âdonât teaseâŚâ she whined.
he exhaled sharply through his nose, a quiet laugh laced with nerves. "needy thing," he murmured, but there was no real protest in it.
his hands slid up her thighs slowly, thumbs brushing the soft fabric of her panties. he pressed one kiss right over the covered heat between her legs. chaste at first, just a warm press of lips.
then another. and another.
he kissed her more deliberately now, the softness turning into something hungrier. his hands slipped under the hem of her panties, fingertips grazing bare skin.
"so pretty." he breathed against her inner thigh before pressing an open mouthed kiss right where she wanted him most.
his voice dropped lower, rougher. "youâre gonna let me taste you, baby?"
âyes.â she nodded, nearly whimpering at his words.
with careful, almost reverent hands, he peeled her panties down just enough to expose her completely. the air in the room felt thick and for a moment he just looked at her.
then his mouth was on her.
a slow, wet kiss right where she ached mostâsoft at firstâthen bolder. he licked gently through soft folds before finding that sensitive bundle of nerves and giving it a small suck. her breath hitched the second his tongue touched her. one hand fisted in his hair instantly, not pulling hard but holding tight, anchoring herself.
she arched slightly off the desk as he sucked that sweet spot just right. a quiet whimper slipped out before she could stop it.
her other hand braced against the edge of the desk for balance while her hips twitched forward on their own instinct, chasing more contact with his mouth.
he hummed against her, the vibration sending a jolt straight through her core. encouraged by her trembling, he got bolder.
his tongue swirled in slow circles, teasing with just enough pressure to make it good but not too much⌠at least not yet. he alternated between soft licks and gentle sucking, exploring every inch like he was memorizing how she tasted.
and god, she tasted good.
her breathing turned shallow, each breath catching in her throat as pleasure pooled low in her stomach. she didnât realize she was rocking against his mouth until it happened again: a tiny, involuntary grind of her hips forward.
he slipped his hand up to hold her hips against the desk, stopping her from moving. her thighs tensed around him, not squeezing to push him away but holding him there like he might disappear if she let go.
"dr. jeon, iâ iâm close.â
he hummed between her legs and looked up at her. his glasses were fogged from the heat.
she saw his face. flushed, eyes half-lidded and dark with want behind those fogged glasses. the sight of him like that, sent a fresh wave of heat through her.
"don't stop," she whispered shakily, fingers tightening in his hair again.
her thighs trembled around him as the coil inside tightened further. his tongue was now faster over that perfect spot sending sparks behind her closed eyelids as he inserted two fingers inside and scissored her open.
his movement wasnât rough, but it was deep. and the combination of his curling fingers and the quick flicks of his tongue sent a shockwave through her entire body. before she could stop herself, she came on his tongue with a moan.
he didnât pull away immediately. instead, he slowed, gentle licks now to ride out the aftershocks for her. he left tender kisses on sensitive skin as she came down from that high.
he finally lifted his head, lips glistening. the glasses still fogged and slid slightly down his nose as he looked up at her.
she was flushed, chest rising and falling fast, eyes still closed like she was savoring the last ripples of it. her fingers had loosened in his hair but hadnât let go entirely.
without a word, he carefully kissed each of her thighs. the places he bit before. âbreathe.â he spoke softly, caressing her hips.
dr. jeon slowly stood up and held his hand between them, two fingers coated in her slick.
âremember the surface swabbing assignment i gave the class?â he mumbled. âmaybe you should take a sample from my fingers.â
she groaned, her head falling against his shoulder.
See You Like That
Ship: Childhood Frenemy/Roommate!Jungkook x Bitch!Reader
Description: Your entire life, you only saw Jeon Jungkook as a nuisance you couldnât escape from. But what happens after the two of you move in together, and the dreams that plague you force you to see him in a different light?
Warnings: Extremely Mean Hard Dom!Jungkook, BDSM, Brat!Reader, Masochist!Reader, Sadist!Jungkook, Dub-Con, Extreme Face-Fucking, Oral (m. & f. receiving), Extreme Degradation, Extreme Humiliation, Facial, Face-Fucking Again (a different sort of way), Rimming (f. receiving), Dirty Talk, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Sex Scenes, Like these scenes are actually crazy, Slapping, Spanking, Fingering, Pussy-Slapping, Spit, Rough Sex, Praise, Choking, Manhandling, Restraining, Hate Sex, Angry Sex, Possessiveness, Masturbation, Sex-Toys, Squirting, Dacryphilia, Hair Pulling, Jungkook has a HUUUUUGE Cawhk, Threesome? (Ft. Taehyung), Reader is a bitch because I love them
Word Count: 30.3k
A/N: This was an absolute monster to write, but it had to be done.
The first 11 days of your life were absolutely glorious.
You slept as much as you want, ate as much as you want, basked in the light of your mother's arms without a care in the world. They were probably the best days of your life, not that you could remember them. Nothing threatened to disturb your peace.
And then Jeon Jungkook came along.
Oh, both of your mothers were absolutely thrilled. Having been life-long best friends, they had every intention of staying together until their dying days. They meant it, too. Living next door to each other, getting pregnant within the next yearâ though that part was much closer together than originally anticipated. Luck is what they assumed.
When both had a bundle of joy to call their own, who they planned to raise together, they were elated beyond belief.Â
"They're going to be the best of friends, forever and ever, just like us!"
Ha. Little did they know.
Sure, you got along with Jungkook when you were little kids. The two of you would take baths in the same sink together as infants, attended the same preschool. He would be the one who yanked you off school bullies during recess, dragging you off as your fists flew towards whatever boy had been picking on him. He was your partner during every field day, without even having to ask.
But then some form of resentment grew.
Jungkook was always the golden child of you two. Never got into fights, always got straight A's, never got sent to the principal's office. You, on the other hand, always found yourself in some sort of trouble. You couldn't help but always say the wrong thing, or find yourself in the wrong place, wrong time. And who was the one who always had to drag you out? Golden Boy Jeon Jungkook. Despite being almost two weeks younger than you, he ended up being the one mainly in charge, he ended up being the responsible one, he was the one who had to look out for you. It was supposed to be the other way around! What about that bullshit saying that women matured faster than men?
Somehow you proved the be the exception, and having Jungkook always come to your rescue made you absolutely livid as the years went on.
"I don't need your help!" God, how many times had you screamed those words at him?
Suddenly he was the one you were letting your anger out on, with your angry quips and quick insults. Didn't help that you knew him inside and out, having grown up with him. At first he'd just take it, letting you blow your fuse and get it out of your system. But then he started throwing punches back. Not literal ones, no, it never got to that level. But he'd have something sharp to say to cut you down when you were making your own attempts, no longer silently taking the full force that was your rage at both him and yourself.
The worst part though was he never left either.
You were stuck together, whether either of you liked it or not. He probably wanted to leave you a million times by then, but due to the pressure of your parents, you were now his responsibility. Always in the same classes, always enrolled at the same summer camps. Living twenty feet away from each other. There was no escape. You and Jungkook were going to a part of each other's lives forever it looked like, and there was nothing you could do about it. So every day you'd walk together from school. Every weekend your parents would have a joint dinner together. Every family vacation, every cruise, the two of you were forced to share a room.
Your parents thought you'd both grow out of this festering resentment. Eventually they accepted that it was simply some sort of sibling dynamic. Sure, you guys bickered constantly, you both swore you couldn't stand each other's guts, but you both still cared. You couldn't help it. You hadn't known a life without Jungkook, and he didn't know a life without you. It was hard to imagine. No matter what happened between you two, you guys never left each other's sides.
You were finally able to gain some distance when you both went off to college. Granted, it was the same one, the only one close enough and affordable enough for your family, and Jungkook had gotten a full ride there, so it was no brainer. But you didn't live in the same dorms, and you were able to make separate friends who didn't know you two as being practically conjoined twins. You had gotten sick of hearing it in the hallways.
"Oh she's basically his sister!" That's what so many would say when they questioned why the two of you were so close. You couldn't stand it. It was bad enough being tied to him so closely already, the thought of actually being related made you want to barf.
You did imagine however that Jungkook was the closest you'd ever get to a brother. He was protective at the most annoying and inconvenient times, like when he insisted on following you to your first house party and refused to let you drink or take a hit of anything. He was super annoying, like when he gloated over his college entrance exams and their scores, rubbing in your face just how much better he was than you, at everything, always. Just another thing to add to the list of things you hated about him.
When the two of you entered university, though, you finally let your wings spread. No more being forced to go to his lacrosse games. No more cramped car rides in the backseat where both of you would stomp on each other's toes and try to get more leg room. You were independent of him. You could do what you want, when you want, and Jungkook didn't have a single say.
Sure, you went a little wild your freshman year. Stayed out until 3-4 AM almost every night, spent many nights in guys' dorms, got a little too wasted at some parties and experienced a black out or two. But they was your lessons to learn, and no one was keeping you from learning them. You kept yourself moderately in check though. No bar fights, no spats with your professors. You couldn't care less what Jungkook was doing. Little nerd was probably skipping any party he was invited to, nose probably buried in his books. Mr. Perfect probably had too much school work to worry about you, either. Didn't matter how many tattoos he used to fill his new sleeve over the years, he was just as uncool as when he threw up in the touch tank during a summer camp field trip.
After you cleaned up your act a little more as university went on, getting the last late nights and parties out of your system, you had to work a little harder to bring your GPA up to par. You hadn't been flunking your classes first year or anything, but you had too many C's for your liking. If Jungkook were still hovering over your shoulder, he'd probably smack you on your head and force you to read the textbook front to back until you set the curve.
You'd see Jungkook in the library occasionally. He was never alone, always with friends. Go figure. Everyone just loooooved Jungkook his entire life. Those stupid big eyes and bunny teeth always made them suckers. He was always popular, getting along with everyone, gentlemanly and one of the bros, even in high school. You were the only one who saw past his facade, saw how nasty he could truly be. The real him.
No matter how much time had passed, you knew he was a resentful little snot underneath.
Neither of you would disturb each other's peace, though. You'd just share glances when you were both in the dining hall, or grunt when you passed by in the hallways. When each summer came around you'd both be too busy with your new groups of friends for your parents to even drag you back together, only the occasional family dinner forcing you at the same table. You two would barely acknowledge each other during it, your respective families filling the other in on the other's lives.
Jungkook made Dean's list. Big surprise.
You had a trip with a few girls during spring break. Big whoop.
You did your best to keep it to a minimal. The few words you did exchange alone were biting at best. You were enjoying your freedom from his annoying face, endless charisma, and perfect grades.
But then university came to an end, and both of you found yourselves moving back to your home town.Â
It was another dinner with your folks and his, and you were pretty sick of still having to live with your parents. After living separately from them for four years, something felt a little humiliating about being back under their roof. Sure, you could get an apartment, but it was so expensive in this area. You definitely weren't being paid enough to live on your own with your entry-level job, even at the apartments in the shadier areas.
"How's the apartment hunting going, sweetie?" Jungkook's mom asked, a saccharine smile on her lips. Joint dinners were something you were forced to go to again, now that you were back. Which meant having to see him a minimum of every weekend.
You shrugged, nudging at the piece of meat on your plate with your fork. "I dunno. I looked at another in Frazierâ"
His mother gasped. "Frazier! Oh honey, no! You can't live there, that's such a bad part of town. You know, crime's gotten much worse since you kids have been gone. A young lady like yourself shouldn't be living there alone." As if a lightbulb went off in her head, her eyes danced to Jungkook, who was busy devouring the steak your dad had helped cook. "Say, Kook, sweetheart, how's your search been going?"
"Hm?" He did his best to swallow down whatever meat was still in his mouth. You dipped your spoon in the peas, eating them and you prepared for him to drone on about whatever success he inevitably found. "It's, uh, hard. Not a lot of studio apartments that are exactly affordable."
No surprise there.
While you had immediately entered the main workforce for a low tier job after graduation, Jungkook had moved up to continuing grad school, which meant he only had the availability for part-time. It wasn't a surprise he was strapped for cash.Â
"Say," your dad started, "I have an idea."
Oh no. Oh no no no. You knew exactly where this was leading.
"What if Y/N and Jungkook get an apartment together?"
No!
Your mother clapped her hands, eyes lit up with delight at the prospect. "Oh that sounds like a wonderful idea! It'd be perfect. I normally wouldn't be a fan of the idea of Y/N living with a man, but Jungkookâ"
"Mom," you choked on your peas, slamming your fist down on your chest to try and get them to go down. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"
"Oh hush now, you've been complaining for months about having to live with us. Besides, Jungkook can keep an eye on you and make sure you're not up to any trouble," your mother scolded.
"This would be perfect! You two can split the rent. Much better than living with strangers," his mother joined in. Clearly their minds were already made up.
You glanced to Jungkook, eyes pleading for once as you waited for his disapproval. He ignored you, though, shrugging before taking another bite of steak. "Sure. We can talk about it alone later."
You wanted your chair to sink into the Earth and swallow you whole, then and there.
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Jungkook closed the door to his childhood bedroom, hands in his pockets as he turned to you. Dinner had been at his parents' tonight, with your dads grilling the steaks and your moms picking out the wine. Your eyes scoured the room you were all too familiar with, the same old lacrosse posters and gaming equipment you were used to. You wanted to find some form of mess. An open ramen cup, strewn about clothes, anything to give you an excuse that living with Jeon Jungkook was an impossible, terrible proposition. Perfect as he was though, everything was clean as a whistle, far more organized than your own abode.
"This is a terrible idea, isn't it? We should just go down there and tell them we absolutely cannot, right?" You laughed it away, glancing to Jungkook for confirmation.
He doesn't seem so amused, though. "I dunno. I've been looking to move out for a while, honestly."
Your eyes widened with disbelief. "You aren't seriously considering this, are you?"
"Why not? It seems practical," he shrugged. A sly grin started to form on his lips. "Don't tell me you're scared of living with a man, Y/N."
Your face twisted into a scowl. "Ugh, I can't stand you. You're hardly a man, anyways. I mean, c'mon, space themed comforter? Really?"
"You still have those glowing star stickers on your ceiling."
"Thoseâ" You snap your fingers at him, taking a step closer. "âare for nostalgia."
"And mine aren't?"
"We can't even stand being in the same room together for five minutes!" You feel yourself regressing back into a teenager, as though you were on fire whenever Jungkook was in your vicinity. "How're we supposed to live together in a tiny, cramped apartment?"
"What, you can't even pretend to act like an adult?" He quirked a condescending brow at you.
You felt your face heat up at his words. "I can." You crossed your arms, groveling. "Are you just desperate to live with me all of the sudden?"
He scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself, princess. I just don't want to live with a stranger. My first dorm I got randomly assigned a roommate, and it did not go well. At least I know there aren't any surprises that come with you."
Your jaw dropped. "You really are considering this."
His tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek, his arms crossing too, now. "Are you?"
Your mind spun as you gave it some serious thought. Jungkook was definitely a lot cleaner than most men you knew. And he typically was lights out by midnight, which meant no keeping you up, and you knew he was a heavy enough sleeper for you to be able to roam about in the late hours without waking him up. Hell, with him being an early riser and you being a night owl, you might hardly see each other. Besides, it's been years since the two of you would constantly go at it. More than now. Maybe you could mature into being civilized, well mannered adults. Mainly you, but still.
"Lets set up some ground rules first," you said. "No messes in shared spaces."
"Duh."
"And no leaving the bathroom seat up!" No doubt that the best you two could afford would be a two bedroom, one bathroom situation.
"Fine." Jungkook tilted his head. "Any other requests, princess?"
You glowered at the stupid pet name, wanting to wither him on the spot with your glare. "How often do you bring people over?"
A slow smile curls on his lips again. "Oh, well isn't that personal?"
"Ew not like that! Ugh, I don't even want to think about you doing that." You shook the thought from your head. "How often do you have friends over?"
The smile was still plastered on his face. "Oh, none spend the night if that's what your worried about. And we'll keep it down."
"Your friends," you emphasized.
"I was talking about my friends." He laughed at your expression. "You should get your mind out of the gutter."
Your mouth parted in surprise. "I wasn'tâ oh my god, you're so infuriating! Just don't have your friends yelling in the living room past 1 AM, got it? I will have no problem shouting at them to keep it down." You rolled your eyes. "Like a nerd like you gets laid anyways."
"Are you worried now?"
You guffaw at the accusation. "Me? Worried? For what, you? Please. You ended up having to take me to homecoming, remember?"
"Yeah, because our parents wanted us too. It's not like I wasn't asked." That was news to you. "And how often are you planning to bring people over?"
"Occasionally."
"Then you make sure they keep it down by 11 PM, and we'll have no problem."
Your brows furrowed. "11? Even on weekends? I was being generous with you, old man. What, don't tell me you fall asleep at 9 usually?"
"Calling me old when you're the older one?" He laughed. "That's right, I forget with how childish you act."
That really made your face burn. You slap the wall next to you, frustrated. "You make it so hard to like you sometimes."
"The feeling's mutual." He meets your gaze, eyes narrowed. "Think you're up for acting like an adult for once in your life? Or do you still want to be coddled by Mommy and Daddy?"
You glared at him, the scowl now permanently etched on your face as your hand slid down the wall. "Fine," you huffed. "Let's do this."
âÂ
Finding an apartment ended up being much easier now that you were going off of two budgets. Sure, most of the realtors that were helping you thought you two were a couple, and you were both adamant and offended each time you were accused. That was annoying. Plus you'd bicker like a married couple the entire process. This area isn't safe enough for him, this apartment was too far of a commute for you, so on and so forth.Â
Finally, though, the two of you came to an agreement on a nice two bedroom, one bathroom apartment. It wasn't the biggest, and you'd have absolutely no luck avoiding Jungkook in these cramped quarters, but it was affordable and got you out of your parents' place at least. It had a gym facility for Jungkook to apparently use, and it was very close to a convenience shop, which you liked.
Living with Jungkook had some ups and downs. You had to spend more on groceries now because Jungkook ate like it was a competition, and yet he still had the nerve to scold you when you stole some of his snacks. He shouldn't need the sweets anyways, with how often he was apparently at the gym downstairs. If anything you were looking out for him by making sure he doesn't undo whatever progress he's making. One plus was that he was a neat freak. Anything you left in the living room would end up being organized neatly, and he had a much better eye for interior decoration than you would've suspected looking at his childhood bedroom.Â
Living with a man wasn't all that bad.
Until you were reminded he was a man.
He came back into the apartment, grunting when he saw you on your laptop at the kitchen counter. You didn't even grunt back a response, glancing at him briefly before you were left taken aback.
Jungkook had just gotten back from the gym, drenched in sweat and wearing a tight, black compression shirt that left little to the imagination. When had he gotten so buff? He usually only wore hoodies in the house, how had you not noticed? You remembered being so annoyed when his growth spurt hit and he began to tower over you, but now he was... wider. His shoulders were broad and his waist narrow. It was as though he were shaped like a Dorito chip. The shirt was damn sinful, too. You could practically make out every muscle and line of his abs. Since when had he had tits? They were massive! Surely the shirt was doing all the work. Surely he wasn't built like a pro boxer. You had seen him during countless family trips to the beach. Even when he was at his most active at lacrosse in high school, he was a skinny twerp that could barely hold you up enough to throw you into the water, ruining your hair.
And the sweat. The way his hair was plastered to his forehead, the beads of sweat trickling down his neck and into the shirt. His biceps that seemed too big to be contained by such tiny material, bulging and tensing as he raised the water bottle to his lips and took greedy gulps, Adam's apple bobbing up and down his throat.Â
Thank God he was wearing sweats at least, because now you were wondering if his thighs were secretly the size of tree trunks, threatening to squeeze and pop whatever was in between. Since when had his body transformed into being exactly your type?
It suddenly dawned on you that Jungkook was, in fact, possibly attractive. Not that you were attracted to him personally, no way.
"Why're you so quiet?"
You're snapped out of your trance, your eyes flitting back to Jungkook's as he gives you a suspicious glare, done with his water.
"Oh, um..." That's right, you usually had some nasty comment to say whenever he got back home. "B-Back from the gym?"
"Obviously," he snorted, stepping forward to lean against the countertop, sliding away his water bottle. Fuck, don't look at his tits again, don't look at his biceps as he leans on his elbows! Don't look at every vein that's popping out beneath his skin, like he's a mosquitos wet dream! "Wouldn't kill you to go now and then, you know."
You rolled your eyes. "I'm already blessed with a perfect body, thank you very much."
His hard stare continued, watching as you tried to shirk your gaze away from his impeccable form. "Is something up?"
"No! Just... need a distraction." You huffed under your breath. "Clearly."
"Distraction, huh?" A small smirk appeared. "My friend Taehyung wants me and some of the other guy to go out clubbing tonight."
"You club?" You had a hard time imagining Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes out partying, but you were having a hard time imagining anything besides what was beneath that shirt at the moment.
"Yeah. You can come if you want. Though I'm sure you'd much ratherâ"
"Sure, why not." You couldn't stand the thought of Jungkook bringing a girl home tonight and having to listen. And looking like that? It was bound to happen. The impossible now seemed very possible, you were going to cock-block even if it killed you.Â
Jungkook's eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, really?"
"Sure, it's been a while since I went out. I need a distraction anyways." You shut your laptop closed and stretched, needing to close your eyes for a second to make it easier to not ogle your roommate. "Unless there's a problem with that?"
"No! No, I just... wasn't expecting you to say yes, that's all." He lifted from the countertop and pulled out a towel next to his water bottle, rubbing the sheen of sweat off his neck much to your dismay. "We usually go out at 10, that cool?"
"Isn't that a bit past your bedtime?" You chuckled at the thought. "Sure you can get your morning run in?"
"I'll get my cardio in one way or another," he said before slinking off.
Now that you didn't like to hear.
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Jungkook's friends were nice enough, three guys about your age named Taehyung, Jimin, and Hoseok.Â
They were all attractive, same level as Jungkook, and you tried to think back to all of those friends you used to spot Jungkook with at university. Were they all in the same league, the way attractive people tend to hang out with their own kind, leaving you uggos to your own devices to stare up at them in awe? Did everyone know Jungkook was hot except you? Were you just an idiot who had been blinded by knowing him before Acutane and Invisalign?
They all treated you cordially, and when Taehyung made a sly comment he was quickly scolded by Jungkook, who said, "Don't even think about it."
Pity, Taehyung was pretty hot. You wouldn't mind taking him for a ride if you weren't going to be preoccupied making sure Jungkook didn't see any action.
Perfect Jungkook agreed to be the DD of the night for you, thankfully. You had never seen him drunk before, and part of you was admittedly disappointed you wouldn't get to see it tonight. What kind of drunk was he? Giggly, happy drunk? Angry, loud mouthed drunk? Nah, that definitely didn't fit.
Horny drunk?
Maybe it was a good thing he was the one driving.
The club was loud, as expected, with bodies on bodies pressed against each other closer to the DJ booth. Jungkook leaned in to your ear so you could hear him, and you got a hearty whiff of his cologne. Fuck, it reminded you of the Abercrombie and Fitch scent you used to be obsessed with in middle school. How did it still have this effect? "Are you wanting to drink or dance already?"
You watched as Hoseok and Jimin wove their way into the crowd, disappearing from sight. "I think I'll need a drink first."
"That's fine. Just catch me in there." He doesn't say another word before he followed after his friends, leaving you behind. Whatever. You looked around for Taehyung, wondering where he had wandered off to, to no avail. Dejected and temporarily thrown off the tracks of Mission: Cock-Block Jungkook, you make your way to the bar. It isn't until a lemon drop is in front of you that you feel a hand on your shoulder.
You turned around, a red-faced, drunken girl greeting you with a cheesy smile. "Oh my God, did you walk in here with Jungkook?"
"Erâ yes? Are you his friend?"
She leaned in harder against you, and you feel the heat from the alcohol off her. "Oh my God, define friend? Ha, no, we just hooked up once."
Your ears perked up at that. Hooked up? She had slept with Jungkook? Jungkook actually got down like that? "Oh... really?"
"Really!" She beamed. Her eyes went wide as she stared at you. "Are you sleeping with him too?"
"No, no, Iâ" Before you could correct her that you had never slept with Jungkook and surely never would, she interjected.
"Girl, you need to get ooooon that!" She giggled, snapping her fingers at the bartender for his attention, digging around in her purse for her card. "Excuse me, Mr. Bartender! Can we get two green tea shots over here?" She plopped down on the seat next to you, scooting in closer. "When I tell you it was the best dick of my lifeeee girlfriend, you better believe it."
You were suddenly so glad that this oversharing, drunk mess was giving you such valueable intel. You felt like a spy, gathering information on the enemy through sly thinking and a silver tongue. Granted, anything would probably sound cool to her in the state she was in. And you didn't even try, but who were you to deny blackmail material? You could always ues a leg up on Jungkook. You leaned on one elbow, suddenly incredibly intrigued. "Oh really?" You smiled as best you could. "You're kidding."
"No way!" The two shots slid before you. "He's got like, a third leg, I'm telling you!"
"I want all of the details." Normally you wouldn't want to hear a thing about Jungkook's sex life, but this opportunity had fallen right into your lap. Who were you not to take it? Plus, your mind was still spinning with thoughts of him in his compression tee, and the fact he even went clubbing in the first place. Suddenly you were more than curious to know about every aspect of Jungkook you had been missing out on.
"Take the shot with me and I'll tell you everything!"
You couldn't say no to that, and anything for the mission. Glasses up, and you felt the sharp burn travel down your throat and into the pit of your stomach. Bringing your face back to neutral, you turned to your new friend. "Spill."
"Ok, so," she leaned in closer, mouth next to your ear. "We hooked up in the bathroom here like a yearâ wait, was it two years?â ago. Oh my god, when I tell you, I'd do anything for another go. Unfortunately I've got this situationship with a guy named Jakeâ don't ever go for guys with J names, I'm telling you, they'll fuck you up."
"Like Jungkook?" You tried to get her back on track.
"Oh he'd be in a good way!" She laughed. "I don't know actually. It was a one night thing. Never even got his number. Can you give it to me? Wait. Never mind. Jake wouldn't like that."
"I don't know, bathroom fucks don't sound the greatest." Damn did she seem to wander in conversation.
"Oh my God, I know right? Usually it's so nastyâ but girl, when I tell you, he was nastier. He was an absolute freak!" She sighed, tapping on her empty shot glass and waving to the bartender again for refills. "I wish Jake were that freaky sometimes. I mean, he tries, but still."
"What do you mean, freak?" Jungkook? A freak? The dude probably was as vanilla as you could get! You remembered when your moms gave you the talk together, and how red his face got.
Her eyes lit up. "Absolute freak! Fucking rough, in all the right ways. It's so hard to come across big dick that's actually good, y'know? Like humongous, like, girth of a coke can, almost! I felt like I was going to die choking on that, y'know what I mean? And the mouth on him, Jesus!"
"Good to know he reciprocates, I guess," you shrugged, reaching for your new green tea shot as it was placed in front of you. This girl was a blessing in disguise spilling these nasty details to a stranger, but it was so much you definitely needed more liquor to get through it.
"Oh girl, he reciprocates. And that boy is a talker." She downed her shot, and you did the same. "I've never heard a guy talk like that outside of porn."
You felt like your heard was about to explode. Jungkook, a yapper in bed? The most you had ever heard a guy say was "Do you like that, baby?" To which you'd simply nodded and checked the time to see if you'd be able to make it home in time to binge your TV show. Jungkook couldn't even say the word "fuck" until he was 14. What on Earth had he been spewing?
"This sounds a bit hard to believe." You felt your cheeks warm up, knowing a rosy flush would soon overtake your face.
"I don't blame you. But I am giving out the recommendation," she snickered. "He's a bit mean though, fair warning. I thought he would be all sweet but, boy, did he throw me for a loop!"
"Mean how?"
She asked the bartender for another refill and nudged the shot to you. You were a little hesitant. One lemon drop and three shots already in such a short amount of time? You hadn't drunk like this in years.
"C'mon, last round I promise! It's all on me. All of my roommates are so sick of me talking about it again and again all this time. They heard all the juicy deets over and over again. They said if I mention it even one more time they're locking me out of my apartment. But good dick is so hard to come by, of course anyone would obsess over it!" She huffed, sliding the glass closer to you. "And you're soooo pretty. You deserve good dick. We all do."
Well, a free drink is a free drink.
You took the last shot, the buzz amplifying as you felt yourself loosen up and relax more. The burn in the pit of your stomach encouraged your endeavor. You looked at the girl, her pretty face squealing with delight as she felt the alcohol course through her veins. "Where are your friends, anyways?"
"Oh, I'm here with Abby, but she's over there sucking face." She pointed behind her, and lo and behold, you finally figured out where Taehyung had went.
"Oh, I know that guy."
"Do you? Is he nice?"
"I can't really say, honestly. I don't know him that well. He's one of Jungkook's friends." You circled your finger around the rim of the glass, eyeing her. "How mean are we talking?"
Her smile stretched from ear to ear. "Evil."
A tattooed hand appeared from behind you, and you spun around to see Jungkook's sweaty form. Your newly discovered weakness. Now-Drunk-You was barely keeping it together enough to keep Sober-You's dignity intact. He looked too damn good in his dark jeans, white tank, and black jacket. The silver chain he often wore only brought your attention to his sweaty neck. Your mind was flooded with the new information you had received, and you couldn't help but laugh in his face out of the sheer ridiculousness of it and nervousness.
He cocked his head to the side, studying your face. His eyes darted between the empty glasses and your lidded eyes. "How much have you had to drink?"
"Oh, pshh, this is nothing. I used to do this all the time." You slid the glasses further away from you, as though that would hide the evidence. "I believe you know my new friend, here."
Your friend waved her hand, giggling. "Hiiii Jungkook."
He gave her a warm smile. Not one that said he had railed her in a nearby bathroom, apparently. Maybe she had made everything up? Gotten your Jungkook mixed up with some sex deity you desperately needed to meet? "Hi Layla."
"Met your new girl, here. She's fun!"
"She's my roommate," Jungkook corrected, and for some reason you didn't like it. Was he interested in hooking up with Layla again? She clearly was down.
Layla looked at you, eyes widened. "Roommate? Girl, I could never! How do youâ"
You interrupted her, not wanting her to finish her sentence. It wasn't one you trusted yourself to answer honestly at the moment. Instead you pointed to where Taehyung and Abby were. "Look, your friend is busy sucking face with her friend."
"So he is," Jungkook hummed, eyes diverting back to you. "You all good?"
"Yeah, yeah!" You tried to focus on him. His pretty eyes looked so concerned. You felt so much more affection toward him when you were drunk. You were tempted to pull him in by the chain and pinch his cheeks the way you did when you were kids. "Where have you been?"
"Dancing. I was waiting for you to join."
"Fiiine I'll come." You hopped up from your seat and turned to Layla. "Thank you so much for the drinks. It was lovely meeting you."
"Byeee girlfriend. If he doesn't take you home I will," she winked. You were tempted to take her up on that offer.Â
Without thinking you grabbed Jungkook's hand, pulling him into the crowd. Whether he was shocked by your action or not, you didn't know. You danced and held your arms up, feeling the alcohol loosen your movements and occasionally bumping into others. You eventually spied Jimin and Hoseok tearing it up on the dance floor, greeting you with cheerful smiles and hyping you up. You were drunk enough to welcome it, spinning around and cheering Jungkook on too as you spotted him moving along with the music.
He was actually doing pretty good, incorporating footwork and everything in the little dancing room he had. The most you were really able to do well was sway your hips to the beat.
"I didn't know you could dance!" When the two of you were forced to go to homecoming together he was always stepping on your toes. Granted, you stepped on his toes first, and on purpose, so perhaps he had only been doing it as a form of payback.
"Seems like there's a lot you don't know." God, his voice sounded so sexy right in your ear like that. You knew he didn't think anything of the forced proximity, it being a necessity with how loud the crowd and music was, but still. You were going weak at the knees.Â
 You scoffed, almost to yourself. "Yeah... no kidding."
Unfortunately for many others, there was a very particular type of drunk you were. The wander-drunk. Before long you were finding the crowd suffocating to be in, and your heels were starting to give you blisters. Making your way upstairs to get a little bit more quiet, you crashed on one of the couches, the area much more vacant save for some people making out. Gross. You can't believe Jungkook hooked up here of all places. And in a nasty ass bathroom? Disgusting. Maybe he really was a horndog.
You shouldn't have been surprised when Jungkook followed after you, sitting down much too close for your mental well being.Â
You felt much friendlier to him now, giggling as you caught your breath and sticking your finger in his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin against the tip. "Gonna follow me in the bathroom too?"
"Layla told you a lot, huh?"
"Pshh." You pull your finger back and looked away, not wanting to be reminded of everything she told you. "Girl's a yapper."
"What'd she tell you?"
You side-eyed him, a smirk creeping up on your lips. "Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy?"
He rolled his eyes. "I would, in fact. Seems like it was about me."
"She saw us walk in together. Told me you two hooked up." You crossed your arms. "Told me a lot, actually."
He grinned. "All good things, I bet."
You felt your cheeks flare up further, and try to fight back the booze to keep your sanity in check. "Oh, that's what you assume, huh? She was telling me you sucked, actually."
"Now I know for a fact she didn't say that."
You faced him, brows furrowed. "How do you know that?"
He shrugged, that smug ass grin on his face only spreading wider. "I just do."
Now it was your turn to roll your eyes, and roll your eyes you did. "God, you men are all the same. You think your dick is gold and it's the best anyone ever had, and you're just a god in bed! Most of you guys can't even find the clit with GPS. You know most women fake it, right? Just to get it over with?"
He chuckled a little. "I've never had a girl fake it, trust me."
You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Little Jeon Jungkook was actually bragging about his sex prowess, right to your face. You glared at him, leaning closer to see if you could scrutinize the lies coming out of his mouth.
"Bullshit." You shook your head, trying not to let your imagination wander. "Every girl fakes it at some point. Statistically it had to happen with you, especially if you're having random hookups at a club of all places."
"Why, have you faked it?"
"Duh." You said it as though it were obvious.
Jungkook let out a breath of air at that. "You know what, makes a lot of sense, actually."
You shot up at that, feeling offended for some reason. "Excuse you?"
He side-eyed you, a knowing look on his face. "Why you're so uptight. You've never gotten good dick before, have you?"
You felt as though someone had shot you, only able to look at him with a stunned, paralyzed expression. Who was this man, and what had he done with the dweeby, goody, Jeon Jungkook you had known for over two years?
"Are you drunk?" you blurted out, shocked that he was speaking so brazenly about this.
"No. I'm DD, remember?" His hand came up to touch your cheek, feeling the warmth of your skin against his palm. The action seemed so tender, so intimate. "You're pretty tipsy, though, it seems."
You can't decide if you want to lean in or jolt away from his touch, seemingly frozen. "I'm... a little drunk."
He snickered a bit at that. "I'm sure. What's going on in that head of yours?"
You realized you must've still looked stunned. "I might say something I'll regret."
That seemed to take him by surprise. He cocked his head, confused. "Why would you regret it?"
Because it would mean throwing away years of pride over a moment that will inevitably seem so embarrassingly stupid in the morning.Â
You quickly leaned back out of his touch, not wanting him to feel more blood rush to your cheeks. "I-I don't know. I always say stupid shit when drunk."
"You say stupid shit when sober, too," he laughed. "Besides, drunk words are sober thoughts."
You couldn't let your drunk words or sober thoughts let him know how badly you wanted to find out if Layla had been telling the truth or not. That he was an absolute freak. With a huge cock that he knew how to use. Who spewed nasty shit in her ear as he railed her in some dirty club bathroom. That he was super fucking mean... apparently. Not that it interested you.Â
Your mouth instead opened and closed like a fish, unable to process the moment or what you wanted to say that would not end in your horrific demise.
Were you actually wanting Jungkook? No, no way. Layla had gotten into your head, plied you with booze, and sent you to a possible metaphorical wolf. Your drunk mouth could not be trusted at this moment.Â
Jungkook brushed a lock from your face, puzzled as to what had you so silent for once. He figured when drunk you'd be spilling your guts out about any and everything, just like Layla. "Are you wanting to go home already?"
You were tempted to say no, as going home with Jungkook would mean you were alone together, and you weren't in a state to not jump on him. But then you remembered your sole reason for being here, and since the club was apparently a dangerous place for Jungkook to find pussy, it was probably best you called it a night to end any possibility of him getting laid. For your own sake of getting sleep, of course. Not for your sanity or anything.
You nodded, following Jungkook downstairs as he told his friends you were both heading home (despite their protests), and helping you into the car. Your walk wasn't nearly as straight, though the heels weren't helping, and you were looking a lot more drunk than you had initially thought. Jungkook buckled your seatbelt for you, and you couldn't help but stare him as he sang softly to the music on the radio, the city lights flashing across his face as he drove you two home.
You couldn't stop ogling at him, and blatantly at that. His tatted fingers tapped against the steering wheel as he drove with one hand. His thighs were spread like a meal before you, and you couldn't help but let your gaze zero in on his crotch. Was his dick really as big as Layla said? Nearly the girth of a coke can? How was that possible? She was definitely exaggerating. And he was mean? How mean? You never had a thing for nice guys, and Jungkook was about as nice as they come. Not usually that nice to you, but still. You couldn't imagine him saying anything meaner than what he already says when you're in one of your spats with him. And during sex? What could he possibly say?
How were you being bombarded with all this new information? You knew everything about him. He liked to eat boiled eggs without eating the yolks. He used to be able to belch the alphabet in your ear just to piss you off. How did you not know he had a tree trunk for a dick sitting between his legs? You squint at the crotch of his jeans, wondering if you could make out an outline of a bulge beneath the fabric.
Fuck, you weren't going to stop thinking about this. What would it be like to suck him off... hypothetically speaking? Layla overshared she was practically choking on him. Was he a head pusher? Would he force you to take it down your throat, be super mean and degrading as he teased you for barely being able to fit him? Would he be even meaner to get back at you for all the trouble you had caused him over the years? Would he laugh as he watched you cry, trying to force yourself down to the base to please him? What would he sound like when the tip finally hit the back of your throat? Would he whimper or let out a deep groan? Would he trap your head between his bulging thighs to keep you locked on him until your eyes rolled back and you ran out of air?
Fuck fuck fuck! Your mind was being filled with all the possibilities. You couldn't be thinking about this! Absolutely not! You hated Jungkook. You knew him forever, how you could you be thinking about sucking his dick? How could you be thinking, at this very moment, of possibly begging him to let you have a taste of it and suck him off in the car just so you could get it out of your system?
Absolutely not! The sheer thought of him knowing that was absolutely mortifying!
"What're you staring at?"
Your eyes popped back up to Jungkook's, who was giving you a sideways glance, his humming ceased.Â
"Your jeans," you stammered out, trying to act cool.
"What about them?"
"...They're ugly. Burn them. " That was a lie, they looked scarily good on him. Let you see how thick his thighs really were. It was the best you could come up with, though. Better than the "take them off" that was about to spew from your lips.Â
Jungkook grunted, looking back at the road. "'Course you'd say that. Guess you're sobering up. That's good at least."
You let out a breath at your quick save, forcing yourself to look at the road too. You were just drunk and having silly horny thoughts, clearly. This was nothing. You were sure that when morning came you'd have all thoughts of Jungkook being anything other than a pest out of your mind.
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You kneeled before Jungkook, a whimper on your lips as he cockily smirked down at you, legs spread on the sofa chair to accommodate your space between them. He looked like a king, leaning back and tilting his head with a teasing expression. Like he knew exactly what you wanted, and now he was just dangling the carrot on the stick, tormenting you.
"C'mon, say it again."
You swallowed hard, eyes flying between his tantalizing crotch and his wicked expression. "Can I..." You licked your lips, mouth suddenly feeling dry. "Can I please suck your dick?"
"Oh? You wanna suck it?" He laughed cruelly, shaking his head. "Why should I let you? You've been nothing but a bitch to me for years."
"I know, I just," you took in a sharp breath. "Just need it. I can't stop thinking about it. Need to get it out of my system."
"Hm, I'm not sure." He cocked his head to the side, considering it. His eyes scanned your pathetic state in front of him. "Shouldn't give brats what they want. Might give them the wrong idea."
"Please! At least... at least let me see it." You stared at his crotch ravenously, curiosity eating at you. Maybe even a glimpse would be enough to satiate you and put the issue to bed. Quietly, you asked, "Please let me see it?"
"Mmm, you sound so sweet when you beg. You're so nice when you want something."
You nodded furiously, desperate for anything he can give you. "I'll be good. I promise. I'll do whatever you want."
"Yeah? I don't feel like being nice to you, though, princess. Think you can handle that?"
Your mouth began to water, watching his legs spread a little wider. "Yes, I want it. Want you to be mean."
"You gonna choke on it?"
Nod.
"You wanna gag and drool all over yourself while you do it?"
You sharply inhaled. "Yes, please."
"I'm real big, princess. You sure you know what you're signing up for?"
"Yes! Please please please just let me suck your dick. I can't take it any more!" You felt like you were going to cry already from his teasing.
He smirked, shaking his head with disbelief at your desperation. You had no idea what you just signed up for. "Hm, if you say so. Go ahead and take it out, then."
You shuffled closer between his legs all too eagerly, mouth now watering with the thought of being able to finally taste him. With shaky hands you reached up for his zipper, tugging down the same jeans you had called hideous. Yanking down the Calvin Klein briefs, you almost jumped back as his cock sprung to life in front of your face, far bigger than you had anticipated or ever taken before. He was huge, with a dick that looked like it should only exist in brutal porn links on Twitter.
"Mm, don't be shy, baby." Jungkook tangled his hands in your hair, roughly pulling you closer to it. He stroked his cock a bit, smacking it against your lips and cheeks, laughing at how you screwed your eyes shut and tried to turn away. He didn't let you, keeping you in place as he further degraded you. "Don't run from it. Begged so much to even see it. Are you going to choke on it like you promised?"
You nodded, taking it in your hands, surprised when your fingertips barely meet. Layla was right about his girth, and you couldn't help but feel a sting between your legs at the mere prospect of it. You give out a small kitten lick at the tip, circling your tongue around it and looking up at him for approval.
He seemed almost... bored, looking at you with an unimpressed expression. "C'mon, is that all you've got? You're putting me to sleep here."
Determined, you opened your mouth and took him in, trying to run your tongue along the underside of his cock as you took the first few inches in your mouth.
He cocked his head to the side, his face still the same. "You're still not impressing me, princess."
You took him in further, bobbing your head as you slowly lowered an inch or two more, feeling him fill up your throat. You quickened your pace, spit coating the shaft of his cock as you used your other hands to twist up and down the base where your lips weren't meeting, trying to milk the cum out. You tasted the pre-cum from the tip of his dick, and moaned at the taste, delighted. Choking on him, you buried your head as close to his groin as you could before popping back up for air, taking in greedy gasps before diving back in on his dick. You pumped furiously, now only needing one hand as you sunk your mouth deeper and deeper on him, already gagging as you tried to get the tip to reach the back of your throat.Â
You typically prided yourself on your head, but Jungkook was proving to be a real challenge.
"Mm, that's it. You're fucking dick-hungry, aren't you? Been obsessing over this, huh? Desperate little slut."
You looked up at him with watery eyes as you suctioned your lips, your tongue moving underneath as you tried to stroke him along with the rest of your mouth. He gave a slight smirk, as though amused by the sight of you making a mess of yourself on his dick. Your spit was running down to your hand and his shaft, down his balls and over his lap into the cushions. It also dribbled down your face, running down your chin and coating the white top you wore until it was near transparent, giving him a clear view of your tits beneath. You didn't care, though, repeatedly bobbing your head to go deeper, prying yourself off to gather your breath before going in for more, as though his dick were more important than air. It absolutely was.
He chuckled at your struggle. "You just couldn't resist a big dick, huh? You really are so easy."
You gagged around him, your throat constricting as your hands grabbed onto his thighs, holding you in place as you tried to get your nose to reach his pelvis. He grunted, hand tightening in your hair and making your scalp sting with delicious pain.
"You're so cute like this. But you're still not quite there." He flashed his teeth, canines glinting in the light. "Do you need some help?"
Without waiting for your answer he pushed your head down, forcing his cock to spear into the back of your throat and pressing your nose against him. Your lips suctioned around the base as you gagged around him more, chin against his balls as he finally forced you to take all of him in. You gagged again, and he moaned at the feeling of your throat spasming around the tip and shaft of his cock, a deep groan leaving his lips as he felt you struggle around him. You blinked the tears up away as you looked up at him pleadingly, and you felt his dick twitch inside of your mouth.
"Fuuuck that's it, now you're being a good slut." He let your mouth rise a few inches before slamming down again, enjoying the feeling of you choking on him, your nails scratching against his denim-clad thighs, unable to get a good grip. "Knew this dumb mouth was good for something. Just needed to be filled."
His ass lifted from the seat as he pushes his hips further into your face, meanly circling his hips to stretch your lips out, laughing as you gagged at the sensation. You felt like your mouth was going to split at the corners with his girth. "Maybe with enough training you can be a good cock-sucking whore. I might actually wanna use this hole again."
He yanked you off his cock, a string of spit connecting the tip to your lips as you gasped and sputtered, chest heaving as you tried desperately to fill your lungs.
"That's enough air." You didn't get enough warning before he's slamming his cock down your throat again, rubbing your face into his lap from side to side to make sure he can feel the walls of your throat properly. Your nails raked down his thighs again as he buried himself as deep as possible in you, wanting you to feel every inch that he forced you to take. Jungkook laughed again, holding eye contact with your determined glare. "What's that look for? You were so desperate for it earlier. Begged for a taste."
Jungkook pulled you back by the hair again, enjoying the sight of your mascara running down your face already from the tears, your shirt covered in drool. His cock was shiny from spit, twitching and beckoning to you for more. Your face was flushed from the lack of air, and you were breathing hard, glaring up at him. He tilted his head, hand detangling from your hair to grab your spit covered chin, forcing you to crane your neck to look up at his amused gaze. He gathered the spit from your chin, letting it spread out on his palm before cruelly rubbing your face with it, smearing your makeup and humiliating you further. "You're just so cute. Are you giving up already?"
"No." You were barely able to cough it out, your voice raspy from your throat being used.
"Aw, you look so determined." He mocked you with a belittling pout. He pulled your face under his cock and pressed your lips against his balls, shoving your head in with a rough push. "Suck."
You took one of his balls in your mouth, licking at the sack and sucking one into your mouth, roving your tongue over it. His cock rested against your face, and his hand returned to the back of your head, forcing you to breathe him in as you licked away.Â
"Fuck, that's it, give them attention too. Good sluts don't forget." With his spare hand he reached for his dick, stroking it with the newly-added lubrication of your spit, his hand twisting much like yours had. His fist repeatedly hit the top of your head as he jerked his cock, like he was trying to force your face to press deeper and lower against his balls. "You like being beneath me? This is where you belong. Sucking my dick like you're meant for it. Can't bitch at me with that bratty mouth now."
You lapped at him more eagerly, wanting to convey how much you agreed. He snickered at that.Â
"You're such a good slut. Maybe you can become one of my favorites. Would you like that?" He stood up now, shoving down the rest of his pants and underwear and stepping out of them, dragging you by the hair to straighten your back and keep your face level with his cock. He smacked your mouth with his palm, as though he were trying to wake you up. "Open."
You obediently did so, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue. Jungkook slapped the tip against it a few times, smirking at how obedient you were to his every command. He plunged back inside, slamming his hips back against your face. The man was so forceful, so rough, using you like you were nothing more than a sex toy for him to spill his load into. And you loved it. God, you loved it. The way heat was churning up in your belly with each passing grunt that left his lips, or that deep groan every time he bottomed out into your throat, forcing you to nuzzle your chin against his balls to take him impossibly deeper? It was heaven, unreal actually. You couldn't help but press your thighs together, desperate for relief, knowing you were creaming in your panties right now.
"You fucking like being used. Wanted be my whore so bad. So fucking desperate for a taste and to gag on my dickâ you're fucking pathetic." He fell back on the chair, taking you with him as you continued to sputter around him, the walls of your throat massaging his cock and pushing him closer to the edge. "Can't believe you get off on this. Just another slut for me to use, huh? Gave me all that attitude because you wanted me to fuck you stupid like the whore you are, isn't that right? Just needed a fat fucking cock to choke on."
Jungkook wrapped his legs around your head, bulging, muscular thighs squeezing around your throat as he crossed his calves and pulled you closer, trapping you at the base of his cock with nowhere to go. Your lips suctioned around the base, drool dripping out from the corners of your lips as you salivated on him. He pulled your head up and down, only letting you up an inch as you gurgled over his cock over and over again, the sloppy, lewd sounds loud and pornographic. Your eyes started to roll back, blood rushing to your face as he choked you with his thighs and his dick, his smug, shit-eating grin being the only thing you could see now.
"Fuuuck, you might actually make me cum. Who knew a brain-dead slut like you could actually be good at something?" His mean laugh echoed in your ears as he used both hands tangled in your locks to guide you, your throat nothing to a fleshlight to repeatedly squeeze around him now. You were starting to get light headed, the edges of your vision darkening. "Gonna ruin you. You're so obsessed with my dick already it's pathetic. Would let me do anything, I bet. Just begged me to use you like you were actually mine, fuck."
You felt yourself going weak, vision tunneling in on Jungkook as he held you down as deep as he could, nose smashed against his pelvis, pre-cum flowing down your spasming throat as you did your best to swallow around him. Your eyes were now actually rolling back as Jungkook suffocated you on his cock, all of your senses being filled with only him, lashes fluttering as your eyes began to shut, your consciousness slipping away.
At the very last second he pulled you off of him, and your legs were jelly, unable to support yourself as you crumbled onto the floor. Oxygen practically slammed back into your lungs, your dotted vision slowly reappearing as Jungkook climbed over you, thighs straddling either side of your head as he stroked his glistening cock in front of your face. He bit his lip, gnawing at the flesh as he jerked quicker and quicker, watching you pant and writhe beneath him, looking already so, so broken.
He ran his hand through his hair, a breathless smile on his face as he admired his work so far. "Fuck, if I knew you were this slutty from the get go I would've fucked your mouth the first day we moved in. Probably sooner."
Jungkook pressed his cock against your face, pressing his palm down on it so you could feel the full length of him against your cheek and forehead. His cock was so big that his balls rested on your chin and his tip reached above your hairline. He rolled his hips, humping against you, watching the spit on his cock further rub in and ruin your makeup, your mascara having tracked its way down your cheeks already. The act felt so humiliating, and his eyes lit up with sadistic pleasure as he watched you whimper at the feeling.
"Mm, you're so pretty like this. Give it a kiss. Show how grateful you are to be used by me."
You tilted your head slightly, pressing your lips against the shaft to give it a small kiss, wanting to curl in on yourself as his demeaning laugh reached your ears. You felt so ashamed, and yet so excited, like you yourself were wondering how far he could push past your limits.
"You're such a little freak," he whispered, watching you close your eyes and part your lips at the sensation of him getting off using your face. You were lost in it. Lost in him, wanting nothing more than for him to use you for his own pleasure. "Nasty little slut. Meant to be broken. What happened to all that attitude, baby? I didn't even have to fuck it out of you, did I? Just had to stuff my dick in this bratty mouth of yours to make you finally shut the fuck up."
You weakly nodded, missing his warmth as he pulled back to let his dick hover above you again, his big hand twisting and jerking around it as he stroked himself to completion. You reached your hands up to wrap around him, wanting to help him finish, but he slapped them away, pinning them above your head and stroking faster. You whined at his restriction, his smirk cruel as he watched you suffer from your helplessness, unable to touch him any more.
"Tell me who you belong to," he moaned, gaze hard on your face as though that would pin you to the floor more than his hand. "Tell me whose slut you are, who gets to use you from now on."
"You," you gasped. "You, Jungkook."
"Good girl." His cock twitched, balls clenching as the first few spurts of cum escaped the tip, coating your face. His hand increased in speed, milking every last drop onto you, watching as you became covered in him. You tried to turn your face to the side, away from it, but he roughly grabbed your jaw, forcing you to feel every drop. "No running from it. This is what you begged for. You wanted to be owned."
Letting go of his length, he rubbed his spit-covered palm hard over your face, smearing the cum into the skin and already ruined makeup, making you into a further mess. He scooped some with his thumb to collect it and smear it across your lips, letting you finally get a proper taste. "You're mine now. Even when you hate me, you want me."
He stuck his cum-covered fingers into your mouth, letting you suck and hum with satisfaction. Jungkook smirked at your fucked-out expression, covered in his cum and absolutely ruined because of him. "You've never looked prettier than this, princess."
And then you came.
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You shot upright in bed, covered in sweat, feeling it everywhere. On your forehead, down your back, between your thighs, truly everywhere. Your legs trembled and shook beneath the sheets as you quickly kicked them off, horrified of the wet spot you saw and felt beneath your shorts.
There was no way. There was absolutely no way you just came from a wet dream about sucking Jungkook's dick.
You jumped out, quickly yanking at the sheets as if you were getting rid of evidence of a dead body. You looked over to your clock. 4:32 AM. The alcohol had made you knock the fuck out as soon as you got home, but clearly it was also responsible for that fucked up dream you just had. Gathering the sheets in your arms, you quickly rushed towards the washer, mind spinning with images of that vivid dream you just had.
It felt so real. Every touch, every press of skin against skin, it felt like you could actually still feel it. Still-frames flashed across your mind. Jungkook's smug as smile as you begged for a taste of his cock. His thick thighs enveloping around your neck and squeezing, forcing you to take all of him. Him smearing his cum into your face after stroking his cock against it and marking you. His nasty, vile words as he degraded you the entire time.
How the fuck had your twisted mind come up with all of this imagery?
You dumped the sheets into the washer, pouring in some laundry detergent before turning it on. It was so fucking loud. You prayed Real-Jungkook hadn't been woken up by whatever moan or scream you had let out when you woke up from the wet dream. It was such a small apartment, he might even wake up from the sound of just the washer.
Your eyes slowly drifted towards his bedroom door, the wooden barrier taunting you with what you knew hid behind it.
You were so tempted to open it up, climb into Jungkook's bed and suck his dick for real this time.Â
No no no! Stop it! Your horny brain could not be trusted right ow, especially after a dream like that.Â
You had to do something about this. If you went to bed again who knew what sort of fucked up shit you'd dream up of the man you swore you hated for practically your entire life.
You searched in your room for any paper, but came up with nothing. You had rid yourself of most of your old materials pretty much immediately after graduating. It wasn't until you looked to the coffee table in the living room, at the neat stack of college-bound, spiral notebooks, that you found your solution. Jungkook always liked to study here, his gaming equipment taking up too much space his desk, and you knew the notebooks up top were the ones he used most recently and regularly. Surely he wouldn't mind you borrowing one of the older ones from a class he's already passed?
You reached for the bottom-most book and yanked it out, flipping through the pages of Jungkook's neat handwriting until you finally come across the first open page.
Grabbing a nearby pencil, listening to the racketing of your shitty ass washing machine, you began to write. While it's still fresh on your mind, you wrote down every sordid detail from beginning to end, letting your writing utensil fly across the page as you poured out every piece of imagery that flooded your mind and flooded between your legs. All of it, from how you begged to every nasty thing he did to you, from choking you between his thighs, rubbing his cum in your face, and suffocating you on his cock enough for you to almost pass out. You felt your blood finally start to simmer down to a much more manageable temperature with every letter, your coping strategies doing wonders for your cortisol levels.
It isn't until you scribble the very last part that you hear a door creak open.
Bleary eyed and sleepy, Jungkook stepped out, his brows furrowed as he sees you crouched in front of the coffee table. "What're you doing up?"
Your gaze flew to the clock on the microwave. 5 AM, Jungkook's usual wake up time. Figured even a night out wouldn't stop him from his typically routine.Â
Your eyes repeatedly darted between his face and the shorts he slept in, your mouth unconsciously watering despite yourself. Fuck, he looked so good with his mussed up bed head and lidded eyes. It didn't help that you had the image of Dream-Kook's dick seared in your brain, and you couldn't help but wonder how it compared to the real thing. Catching yourself, though, you force your eyes back on his face, not wanting to be caught blatantly staring the way you were last night.
"Oh, Jungkook! You're up early."
"I always get up at this time." His eyes narrowed, mind trying to process the fact you were too. "The question is, why are you?"
"Oh, guess the alcohol made me wake up early. Can't go to bed," you nervously chuckled, holding the book behind your back in hopes he wouldn't notice.
"So you're doing... laundry?" His eyes go to your loud ass washing machine, still rattling with your soaked sheets inside.
"Thought I'd take a page out of your book and be productive in the morning!" You quickly explained.
He eyed you suspiciously. "What's in your hand?"
"Oh, this? It's just..." You finally look at what Jungkook wrote on the bright, red cover. "Calculus 2?"
"You're reading my Calc notes at 5 in the morning?"
"Just because I'm done with school doesn't mean I'm done learning!"Â
"You didn't even have to take Calculus 1. You were a Psychology major."Â
"Don't you have a morning run to go on?" you huffed, irritated with his constant questioning. "You missed out on your 'cardio' last night, remember?"
He cocked his head, confused. "No I didn't. I went out dancing. That's basically cardio."
Oh...
Well now you felt stupid.Â
You looked away, hoping he couldn't see the shame and embarrassment on your face, knowing you were bullshitting. You were afraid that if he looked at you too long, he'd see exactly what was going on in your head. "You should still go out for a run. Don't need you getting lazy."
He rolled his eyes, shuffling back to his room. "Whatever."
You let out a breath of air and finally let your tense shoulders loosen.
That was a close one.
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You really thought that would be the end of it. So you had one, absolutely crazy, unrealistic dream about Jungkook railing your mouth. So what? Surely it would never happen again. You had gotten it out of your system by writing all of it out. It's not like that would ever even happen like that. Clearly you had taken the details Layla had given you and ran with them, making Jungkook out to be a mean, cruel, demented sex-god in your imagination. No one could ever live up to that fantasy, least of all a nerd like Jungkook. There was no way you saw Jeon Jungkook as anything besides the dweeb you grew up to despise.
And you were truly despising him this moment, squirming as you banged against the bathroom door, in desperate need of relief.
"Come on, Jungkook! You've been in there forever, you're done showering! Some of us have to actually pee, you know." God, you reallllly didn't want to head all the way downstairs and use the lobby bathroom. Damn this place for only having one.
"Just a second, hold your tits," he piped back.
You scowled, slamming your fist against the door again. Jungkook always took showers for what seemed like forever, steaming up the small room and soaking the bathmat when he got out. You're about to hurl an insult when the door opens, revealing Jungkook through a steamy mist that clouded the room.
And he was half naked.
Your gaze automatically explored the newly revealed skin to you, every muscle in his abdomen well defined. His chest was much broader to match his shoulders, waist practically nothing as it led down to the v-shape between his hips, disappearing beneath a towel. His body was wet, glistening from the hot shower and steam, every muscle shining and glistening as though he were covered in oil. You stared down at the towel, now all too aware that he was completely naked beneath, and if weak little fitted scrap were to fall, you'd have a full view of his dick.
You had seen Jungkook shirtless countless times. At the pool, at the beach. But back then he had noodle arms and a little boy's body. He looked nothing like that any more. He had completely filled out, a man before your eyes.
Jungkook quirked a brow at your staring, confused by your blank expression. "Didn't you need to pee?"
Your empty head was then reminded of what you had come there for in the first place, and as much as you'd like to further ogle Jungkook's muscular, god-like build, the pressure of your bladder reminded you there were much more urgent matters. You did your best to twist your face into a scowl again, bumping into him purposefully as you enter the bathroom. "Move."
Slamming the door behind you, you finally were able to pee. Washing your hands and wiping the fogged up mirror, you internally cringed at how brazenly you checked out Jungkook. Fuck, hopefully he didn't think anything of it. But what could he expect when he was practically naked in front of you? Don't people usually carry their change of clothes into the bathroom with them for after?
Fuck... if only the towel dropped...
You were sickeningly reminded of the dream from prior, and find yourself reaching for his body wash, still dewy and wet. You popped it open, letting the fragrance hit your nose. Fuck, you were being such a creep right now. But it smelled so much like Jungkook, with that manly, woody scent that now covered your apartment and drove you crazy.
You heard a knock on your front door, followed by Jungkook's, "I'll get it!"
You exited the bathroom, seeing Taehyung walk in. Jungkook had already changed into clothes (unfortunately), wearing blue jeans and a hoodie to combat your blasting AC, but his hair was still wet as he ran a towel over it. Taehyung smiled at you as he entered, giving a small wave. "Hey, Y/N."
"Hi Taehyung." Taehyung was an attractive man, no doubt, with supermodel features and bulkiness that rivaled Jungkook's. It was no wonder he was able to pull girls so easily when clubbing. "Sorry we didn't get to say goodbye the other night. You seemed a bit preoccupied."
"Oh, yeah, she was cool."
You tilted your head, squinting your eyes. "What was her name?"
"Um..." He glanced over at Jungkook for help. "Amy?"
"Abby," you corrected for him.Â
"Right! Abby." He smiled at Jungkook knowingly. "She's Layla's friend, right?"
"Dude, shut up," Jungkook grunted, tossing his wet towel in Taehyung's face.
Taehyung cackled boisterously, bunching the towel up. "What? Afraid I'll embarrass you in front of your little roomie?"
"It's fine, I know more than I should." It accidentally slipped out, and both boys give you a look that made you regret it. Taehyung's was one of keen interest, whereas Jungkook's was one of mild shock.
"Oh?" A mischievous smile slipped onto Taehyung's face. "How much do you know?"
"They hooked up," you said simply, careful not to give away what sordid details Layla had given. You did not want Jungkook to find out about how you pried for details about how dirty his mouth was and how he had a generous appendage.
"That's all?" He seemed almost disappointed. "Yeah, Jungkook's entered his manwhore phase. I'm so proud."
"Shut up, dude," Jungkook said again, shoving Taehyung's shoulder. "It was a one time thing and you know it. And I'll never be as bad as you, even if I tried."
Taehyung let out a low whistle at Jungkook's irritation. "Look who's getting so defensive. Trying to save face in front of your girlfriend?"
"Not my girlfriend," Jungkook corrected. "Just don't need you getting in her head and giving her more ammo to use against me."
That was a very you thing to do.
Taehyung's grin widened, "So you wouldn't mind if I took her on a date, would you?"
The look Jungkook shot Taehyung's way could only be described as lethal, a sharp glare accompanied with a tense jaw. Clearly Taehyung had succeeded in getting under Jungkook's skin. "Y/N wouldn't be interested in you."
"Oh really?" Taehyung quirked a brow. "I think she can answer for herself."
Both men looked to you, and you're suddenly frozen from being put on the spot. You hadn't anticipated being put between the two of them, their attention wholly focused on your answer. The truth was you probably would've jumped on Taehyung in any other circumstance, but he was Jungkook's friend, and clearly Jungkook didn't seem to keen on the idea of you sleeping with him. Besides, your head had been filled so much with Jungkook recently, you weren't sure if there was room for anyone else.Â
Letting out a nervous chuckle, you glanced between the two. "This seems a bit tense," you said, diverting from the question, not wanting to directly answer.
"Don't listen to him. He's just being a dick for the sake of it," Jungkook grunted, shrugging off his hoodie and tossing it onto the living room sofa. "Go to the car already if you want us to make it before the dinner rush. Otherwise that waitress you like so much will be too busy."
Taehyung slid out from his seat, giving you a small smirk. He probably took it as a good sign you didn't directly reject him. "Call me if you want to take me up on my offer, Y/N. I can show you a good time."
He exited your apartment, leaving you alone with Jungkook, who still seemed strangely heated. His glare now turned to you, gritting his teeth. He probably was upset that you didn't directly reject Taehyung. Offended, he asked, "Is he your type or something?"
Clearly he wasn't planning on letting this go just yet. You did your best to give a noncommittal shrug, looking away. "I mean, he's a good-looking guy. I'm not sure he's exactly my type though."
"What is your type?"
Why was he so interested?
The truth was tall, muscular, inked, him. Well, not him, but maybe someone who looked just like him. A bulky guy who looked like he could toss you around like it was nothing. Maybe someone who invaded your dreams like a goddamn incubus. Fuck, maybe it was him.
"Not so sleazy," you opted for instead.Â
He grunted, grabbing his wallet and shoving it in his pocket, somewhat satisfied with your answer. "Yeah, Taehyung's a bit of a fuckboy. I don't recommend you get involved with him like that."
You crossed your arms. "Birds of a feather flock together, I suppose."
A certain look flashed in his eyes as he locked gazes with you. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"I mean, you're not so innocent yourself, hooking up in a dirty club bathroom with a stranger. And he's your friend, after all."
"I saidâ Look, it was a one time thing, I don't usuallyâ" He let out a breath of exasperation, shaking his head and heading to the door, grabbing his keys from the bowl next to it. "Forget it."
The door slammed shut behind him, and you were left alone with more questions than answers.
â
Your bedroom door creaked open, a small sliver of light invading your darkness and shining on your face. You squinted, watching as a shadowy mass pushed the door open further, climbing over you and ripping the sheets off.
Jungkook smiled, back from dinner, and yet there was an insatiable, hungry look in his eyes as he took in your form, now revealed from beneath the blankets. "Hey, baby," he said in a low whisper. "Did you miss me?"
"Jungkook?" You groggily reached up and rubbed at your eyes, slowly waking up as you realized he was on top of you. "What're you doing?"
"Exactly what you've been wanting me to do." He reached towards your sleep shorts, hand curling into the hem as he pulled it down your bare legs. You squirmed, reaching for his arm to stop him from exposing you, but he continued, discarding the shorts and hooking his thumbs into your panties. He licked his lips, slowly peeling them off of you, your bare center privy for his viewing pleasure. "Fuck, there's the little pussy I've been dreaming about."
You squealed as he yanked your underwear off your legs too, spreading them and leaving no part of you hidden from him. You tried to snap your legs shut, but his grip on your thighs was too strong, his gaze too hard and intense for you to escape. You knew just from the look in his eyes that he wasn't going to let you go. Your nails scratched along his wrists, begging for mercy under his scrutinizing stare. "Jungkook! You can't justâ"
"But I can," he interrupted, smirking at you. "Because you want it so fucking bad, don't you?"
You whimpered a bit at that, and he let go of one of your thighs to yank your shirt off of you, leaving you completely naked before him. He pinched one of your nipples between his fingers, tugging as he watched you squirm and gasp under his touch.Â
"You're so sensitive, aren't you?" He licked his lips again, as though you were a meal waiting to be devoured, and he was simply playing with his food first. "Bet you dreamed of me coming into your room and taking advantage of you, huh?"
"No!" You protested, shaking your head. "Y-You're wrong."
"Liar." His hand let go of your nipple to smack down harshly on your cunt, his hit heavy as your hips jumped up, a string of slick connecting his fingers to your sex before snapping off. "Good thing this pussy doesn't lie to me."
You bit your lip, trying to contain your squeal as he let his fingers dive between your folds, gathering your wetness and letting it smear on his digits. He circled around your clit and rubbed right above your entrance, feeling you coat him. Jungkook chuckled knowingly, watching your legs twitch and tremble with every small movement he made. "You're so wet for me already, and I haven't even done anything. You're such a slut for me."
"F-Fuck yoâ" You weren't even able to finish your curse, Jungkook slipping a finger in and curling it up right at the spot that had you tensing up. "Oh my god!"
"Yeah? You like that?" He curled again, watching you thrash your head to the side, shame overtaking you. "You're so fucking easy, you know that? Just begging to be ruined. Want me to dick you down so bad, huh?"
You kicked your feet against the sheets, gasping as he pumped his finger inside of you, grinning wickedly as he watched you come apart. "WhyâWhy are youâ"
"Because you wanted me to," he said, slipping in another finger, savoring the whimper that escaped your lips. "You wanted me to be the one to ruin you. Wanted me to use this pussy like my own personal fuck toy. Isn't that right?"
"Y-You're delusional."
"Am I?" His thrusts became quicker and harder, like your denial was making him more and more determined to have you fall apart for him. "Why are you getting wetter for me then, huh? Nasty pussy can't get enough of me it seems."
You moaned, feeling pressure build up in your abdomen already as his thumb came up to swipe at your clit. You tried closing your legs again around his hand, but he pushed one of your thighs further against the bed, making you hear the sloppy sounds of your gushing cunt full the room as he jackhammered his fingers into you.
"You're such a slut for getting off on this. Dirty little masochist." You involuntarily squeezed around his fingers, making him laugh at your expense. "Like that, huh? Like me calling you a dirty slut for me to use? You're fucking clenching on me baby, it's like you don't want me to stop. You could at least pretend a bit better that you don't like this."
With each curl of his fingers small gasps and pants left your parted lips, the pressure building as he shuffled himself further between your thighs, the hand pinning you down now quickly swiping against your clit, toying with the bud and adding to the slick sounds from between your legs. Your face burned with embarrassment, nails digging into his skin as you tried to pry him off with no avail, your orgasm building up with an intensity you weren't ready for.
"Please..." you moaned, mouth open as you watched both hands at work, expertly bringing you to the edge.
"Please?" He snickered at your weak plea. "Please what? Keep using you? Make you cum? Or should I just stop?"
He stilled his fingers and your hips bucked again, biting at your lip as you gripped onto his wrist, trying to pull him closer into you. The pressure in your abdomen began to fade, and you whined at the loss. "No!"
He cackled at that. "That's what I thought." His fingers began to move again, rebuilding your orgasm. "Gonna make you cum so hard. Maybe you'll pass out again. And then I'll still stretch this pussy out."
He slipped another finger in, your walls doing their best to accommodate the girth of his digits despite how tight it felt.
"Too much!" You felt your orgasm approaching, and fast, much faster than you could've ever anticipated.
"Too much? What're you going to do when you finally get my cock inside you, hm?" Your slick juices were spilling down to his wrist, drenching your bedsheets beneath you. "Gonna whine and bitch about it like you are now? We both know you'll start crying if I stop."
"Don't stop! Fuck, Jungkook, you're gonna make meâ"
"Cum," he growled, the hand on your clit now moving to be just his thumb, his other fingers and palm splayed out to push down against your pelvis, forcing you to feel his fingers thrusting inside further, making you tighten. "Show me how fucking easy it is to ruin you."
You whined, practically folding into yourself as you felt your orgasm wash over you, Jungkook's fingers still harshly slamming into you to take everything you could give. You squeezed his wrist, pulling him impossibly closer, the heel on the hand fingering you now flush against your folds as you ground against it, hips bucking as you rode it out. Sweat slicked your hairline as you gasped for breath, your hips slowing to a roll as you felt the aftermath fade.
Jungkook let out a pleased hum, grinding his palm further against you, watching as you keened from the overstimulation, his grin permanently etched on his face as tears sprung into your eyes. "Fuck, that's it. Love that look on your face. Barely took me any effort to get you fucked out like this."
He slipped his fingers out of you, making you mewl from the empty sensation. Bringing them up to your lips, you wordlessly opened your mouth and took them in, sucking off the residue you had left behind.
"That's a good girl. Taste yourself." He pulled his fingers out, wiping them along your thigh. "My turn."
You barely had time to process how words before he was lifting you up by the hips, turning you practically upside down as your shoulders pressed into the mattress, ass in the air as your thighs were pulled over his shoulders. Blood rushed to your head at the new angle, Jungkook keeping a tight hold on you as your pussy was directly in front of his face. With a cocky grin he brought his mouth down, fully enveloping your sex and running his sinful tongue up the entirety of it.
You moaned, cringing slightly as you still hadn't recovered from the previous orgasm. Your thighs tensed around his head, his arms circling around them to hold you up for him, mouth running up and down your folds and nasty, wet sounds omitting from it. His lips suctioned around your clit, sucking hard as you mewled and clenched your thighs around his head. His hands gripped them tight enough to leave bruises, firmly keeping your cunt glued to his face.
"Fuck, you have such a sweet cunt," Jungkook mumbled into you, the vibrations causing you to squirm at the sensation. "Don't even deserve it."
"Ah, fuck!" Your glassy eyes looked at him pleadingly, the image of his face between your thighs threatening to make you combust on the spot. "No, I just came, I can'tâ"
He let go of your clit with a wet pop, licking his lips as he pulled one of your thighs closer, his hand coming around to pinch at your clit with mean vigor. "Dumb sluts don't get to say no."
He buried his face back into your pussy, tongue circling around your entrance before going in, the wet muscle stiff as he thrust it in and out, before softening and licking where it could reach inside of you. His nose was pressed up against your clit, still caught between his two fingers, their slight movement as they stroked it making your mind spin. Your hands came up to bury in his hair, conflicted on whether to pull his face in closer.
He pulled his tongue from your sex, though it stayed dangling out of his mouth, as though he were a carnivorous mutt. The lower half of his face glistened with the remnants of your arousal, his lips swollen and glossy. "I know all of your weak spots, Y/N. Know you love being held down and forced to take it. No one else will ever make you feel as good as I do."
He latched back onto you, and you felt the orgasm that hadn't even had time to completely fade away being rebuilt, the sensation of his tongue buried deep inside you and his fingers stroking at your swollen bud pushing you further and further to the edge. Your fingers tugged at his scalp as you felt the wave wash over you, your walls clenching and spasming around his tongue as he pressed his face further against you, wanting to be completely soaked as you came on his face.
Jungkook chuckled against you as he watched your fucked out expression, your eyes slightly crossed and lips parted as the world disappeared, his touch the only thing grounding you. He licked away until you started pushing his head back, and back he went.
But not as back as you were expecting.Â
You were suddenly sprung back to reality when you felt his tongue against your other entrance, smearing saliva and the evidence of your orgasm onto the rim. You tried pushing his head back away, but he stayed firm, letting go of your thighs for one arm to circle around your waist. Your legs fell back as you folded in half, knees now above your shoulders into the mattress, your ass in his face with no where to hide. Your face burned with embarrassment, "No! Not there!"
He laughed, giving you another lick. "Stupid little girl. Hearing your little moans as you try to protest only makes me want to tease you more."
You bit your lip, trying to contain the moan as you felt his stiffened tongue breach the barrier past your rim, slowly inching further and further against you. Never in your life had you had a man eat your ass, and Jeon Jungkook was going to be the first.
"YouâYouâ" You couldn't even truly begin your sentence as the arm not wrapped around your waist, holding you up, reached around and pinched your clit again. The overstimulated little nub sent jolts of pleasure and pain throughout you, and your torture only persisted.
Jungkook came back up, pinching your clit harder and laughing in your face as you cried. "Wonder if I can make your little pussy cum from just this," he said aloud, spitting on the wrinkled rim before inserting his tongue again, like he was trying to shove his spit into your hole as far as the muscle would allow.
You kicked your legs that were in the air, trying to free yourself from the uncomfortable position,a burn in your calves as they surrounded you. So much blood was rushing to your head, you couldn't think properly with his tongue buried in your ass and your body folded under his whim like you were simply origami paper.
What was worse that it felt so fucking good, Jungkook's daring tongue in your previously unexplored hole doing wonders, his confidence and lack of shame or shyness making him bury himself as deep as he could. His arm around your waist tightened, trying to pull your ass up higher against his face, and his fingers were rubbing circles into you.
Fuck, he was really going to make you cum from eating your ass!
At the worst possible moment, the door swung open completely, and another hulking shadow appeared.
You looked up in horror, realizing how embarrassing the position was. There you were, folded in half, ass in Jungkook's face while his tongue was buried inside, and pussy neglected and squeezing around nothing as your impending orgasm approached.Â
"Well well well, what have we here?"
Taehyung's amused expression at your predicament did nothing to quell your humiliation, his eyes scouring your naked body, from your flushed face to your sweaty form. You weakly kicked your feet again, trying to squirm out of Jungkook's hold, but he didn't let up, only holding onto you tighter and forcing you to take it, all in front of Taehyung.
Finally he pulled his tongue out, acknowledging the uninvited guest. "Tae, come here and help me hold her down."
Taehyung didn't need to be told twice, ignoring your shriek and grabbing your ankles, pinning them down to the mattress. He smirked down at you, obviously loving how helpless you were beneath the two men, his presence only adding to your embarrassment.Â
"Suck her clit. Don't put anything in her pussy yet, she's on time out." That was all Jungkook said before he returned to eating your ass, unashamed in front of his friend.
Taehyung did as told, lips on your pussy without hesitation. He sucked on your clit, his tongue roving over the area as you squirmed and tried to kick again, but his grip on your ankles kept you glued in place. You felt both of them smile against you, enjoying how you struggled beneath them, unable to move even a single inch.
"Fuck," Taehyung finally said, deep voice making you clench around nothing, letting go of your clit as you squealed. "Tastes so fucking good."
"I know," Jungkook chuckled, letting some of the drool from the tip of his tongue drip onto your winking asshole, adding to the lubrication. "She gets so fucking wet when you manhandle her. She's a total masochist."
"Is that right?" One of Taehyung's hands let go of your ankles to land a sharp spank on your ass, having you wiggle and moan beneath them at the smarting pain. He laughed, spanking your other cheek too, looking down at your teary expression with absolute glee. "Fuck, you're right. She's loving this."
"She's so fucking dirty. She loves having me eat her ass. Was so shy at first, but now look at her."
"Mm, I can tell. She looks like she's gonna cum any minute." Taehyung licked against your clit again, savoring the whimper that escaped you. "Are you gonna cum? Don't even have anything in that little pussy and you're already squirming like you're gonna burst. Bet you hate being so empty."
He sucked on your clit again with renewed fervor, Jungkook's tongue curling inside you as they both drove you crazy. Taehyung's hand reached down to your bare chest, twisting your nipple to hear you whine, nails digging in a little as he cruelly twisted. He smiled against your clit again, teeth barely nipping at your folds to make you cry more for them. His was just as evil as Jungkook.
"C'mon, cum for us. Maybe we'll let you have something in your pussy again," Jungkook grunts, words muffled. "Show Taehyung what a fuckslut you are."
Your ass clenched on his tongue, hips bucking what little they can against Taehyung's face as your third orgasm overtook you. Your thighs trembled, and you felt only the sensation of two mouths on your most intimate parts, devouring every part that was accessible to them. Your moan was practically whorish, your neighbors no doubt ready to leave a noise complaint with your landlord at the disturbance.
Once you finished shaking beneath them, they finally let you go, letting you crumple between them on the sheets, body limp and practically lifeless from the three orgasms forced out of you. You breathed heavily, mind hazy as the orgasmic fog took over your brain. You barely processed Jungkook pulling you into his arms, sitting you between his legs and spreading your own over his.
His fingers reached down, spreading your lips and revealing your twitching sex to both, your clit swollen and folds puffy from the abuse you endured.
"You're such a good slut for us," he rasped into your ear, his voice sending tingles down your spine. "Pretended to hate this so much, but now look at you. I guess you deserve some reward."
Your eyes widened as you realized what that meant. You try to close your legs again, but Taehyung halts you, hands on your knees and keeping you spread out and exposed to them. You looked at both pleadingly. "Please, no more, I feel like I'll die if I cum again."
Jungkook only smiled cruelly at that, the hand on your pussy coming down to smack your swollen sex yet again, making you yelp. "Taehyung, why don't you finger her a bit?"
Taehyung grinned, digits coming up and sliding across your puffy cunt, circling your entrance before inserting two fingers already. He hissed as he felt you squeeze around him, barely giving him room to move. "Fuck, she's so tight, even after cumming so much."
You felt Jungkook's smirk against your ear. "Yeah, gonna have to stretch her out to fit my cock. Think it'll break her?"
Taehyung chuckled, crooking his fingers up and sliding them in and out of you. "You might. Don't know how she's gonna take you. Her pussy's just so fucking tiny."
"I'll have to make her take it. She'll like it better that way anyways. She pretended like she didn't want this earlier, but her body doesn't lie." Jungkook peeled your hands away from Taehyung's wrist, refusing to let you pull him away. He held your wrists in each hand, holding them up as he admired the shine on Taehyung's digits every time he pulled them out of your pussy. "Do you like how he fingers you, princess? Masochistic pussy just can't get enough. Want Tae to make you cum again?"
"F-Fuck," you whimpered, unable to answer, your brain practically mush at this point. "I... I'm..."
"Shh, it's ok baby. I know you're too dumb to talk right now," Jungkook cooed mockingly in your ear, lips brushing against the shell. "It's alright. You're just gonna take what we have to give you like a good little slut, isn't that right?"
You nodded dumbly, moaning again as Taehyung hit that weak spot inside of you that had your eyes rolling back. You weren't sure how much more you could endure, but you knew the two of them wouldn't give you any other choice.
"You should thank him for letting you cum so much," Taehyung scolded, bullying his fingers deeper into you, spreading them and scissoring you open. "Whores like you should learn how to give respect."
"She never gives me respect," Jungkook said, letting go of one of your wrists to meanly slap your cunt again, making you buck against Taehyung. "That's how she got in this position in the first place."
"Bitch just needed to be put in her place, is that right?" Taehyung chuckled.Â
"Th-Thank y-y-you," you weakly stammered out.
Jungkook ran his fingers over your sore cunt, soothing the sting as he studied your expression. Tears had sprung at the corners of your eyes, and you looked as though you were about to bawl any minute. "I'm not sure she's learned quite yet."
His middle finger traveled down to your entrance, sliding in easily due to your wetness and joining right above Taehyung's. You sharply inhaled at the feeling, your free hand coming to wrap around Jungkook's wrist, which he ignored. Instead he let go of your other hand, wrapping his own around your throat and giving it a light squeeze.
"It's so much," you gasped out, feeling their fingers move in tandem, stretching you.
Both chuckled.
"Oh baby, you're gonna need a lot more than that if you want to take me," Jungkook smirked, nipping at the shell of your ear. "I'm much bigger than that, remember?" He squeezed your neck, like he was reminding you how he filled your throat before.
"He's right, baby. I've seen him in the locker room. You'll have to be completely stretched out if you want to fit him in this tight little pussy." Taehyung laughed at your fearful expression, pumping his fingers in harder. "I don't think you'll be able to handle it. He's gonna split you in half and have you crying before he get halfway in, I bet."
"You're scaring her," Jungkook teased, slipping in another finger, watching as you keened at the feeling of four thick digits stretching you out. "I think she likes it, though."
"Course she does. Little slut is begging to be filled, isn't that right?" Taehyung reached with his free hand and grabbed your jaw, forcing you to look at him. "Bet you've been dreaming of his cock, haven't you?"
"Yes..." you weakly admitted.
"Fucking pathetic," Jungkook rasped in your ear, curling his fingers harder, pumping faster in time with Taehyung. His palm was flush against your swollen folds, grinding against your clit as he jackhammered his curled fingers into your g-spot. "Is that why you're such a bitch to me, always? Huh? Hoping I'd do this to you? Treat you like a slut, ruin you for anyone else? Finally give you my cock and shut you up?"
"It's real big, baby, you're gonna feel so full," Taehyung crooned. "I don't think any other cock will satisfy you after that. You'll really belong to Jungkook then."
"Gonna make her crawl and beg for me to put it inside her," Jungkook hissed between gritted teeth. "Watch how pretty she cries when I'm finally balls deep inside her."
"Fuck, she's getting wetter just thinking about it. Disgusting little slut is gonna cum just thinking about your dick in her." Taehyung's cruel cackle rang in your ears. "She really is fucking pathetic."
The loud squelching noises of them abusing and stretching out your wet cunt were too much to bear. You weakly nodded in Taehyung's grip, the tears finally falling down your face as you felt the familiar pressure building up. He leaned in, licking up a tear on your cheek and making you whine.
"Fuck, fuck, I'm gonna cum! I can't, it'sâ"
"Shh, you will," Jungkook said in a belittling tone, smile evident in his voice and against your ear. "Gonna cum on me and Tae's fingers like a good girl, come on. Give us one more."
"Yeah, baby, show me how pretty you look falling apart."
Jungkook bit into your shoulder, the pain sending you spiraling towards the edge. And you did, your walls contracting around their fingers stuffed inside you, legs quivering as they made you a complete, utter mess between them.
You came, and everything around you shattered.
â
You bolted upward, drenched in sweat once again and gasping for breath. You took in your surroundings, the ceiling fan spinning above you, your living room in its typically pristine state due to Jungkook's tidy habits. Your stomach flipped when you realized the uncomfortable feeling in your panties was because they were drenched, and prayed that it hadn't somehow spilled through your shorts and onto the sofa.
Fuck, you really though you'd be safe just napping on the couch. Instead you had a sex dream yet again that seemed like it lasted hours.Â
You cursed, realizing you were still wearing Jungkook's hoodie. You had tugged it on pretty much as soon as he left the apartment, breathing in his scent and letting the soft fabric lull you into a false sense of security. You figured you could borrow it for just a moment; your apartment AC was on full blast, surely using his hoodie for just a few minutes would be reasonable! But no, instead you had a wet dream in it, consumed in the scent of his cologne and brain filled with images of him and his friend tag-teaming you to nearly cum to death. You definitely needed to wash this from any of the sweat that was inside, and fast.
Your head whipped around to the door, looking toward your shared key bowl. Only your keys remained. Good. Jungkook was still at dinner with Taehyung. That gave you some time.
You warily looked back to the stack of thick notebooks, the sliver of red at the bottom taunting you for your sick fantasies. Grumbling, you swiped it from underneath the rest, flipping past your most recent entry and scribbling down the details from the consequences of your nap.Â
You put in everything, the details nasty and graphic as you left nothing outâ from Jungkook making you cum repeatedly, fingering you, eating your pussy and then your ass, having Taehyung join in. Every slap and degrading demand for obedience, the way he cooed in your ear and choked you to remind you what had been inside last dream, all of it. You wrote frantically, needing to get the images that flashed across your eyes out before Jungkook's return.Â
You had just about finished when you heard the jangle of keys in your front door, and panicked as you shoved the notebook back in place, spinning around to face Jungkook with a smile that could only be described as guilty.Â
Jungkook stepped in, eyes glancing to where your head popped up over the couch.Â
"Welcome home!" You uncharacteristically greeted. Don't think about how his tongue felt buried inside you. Don't make it obvious you were just imagining him and his friend sharing you like you were a pocket pussy.
He stopped, clearly taken aback by your behavior. "Um... thanks?"
"How was dinner?" You tugged at the hoodie, feeling a trickle of sweat run down your back. Fuck, hopefully you hadn't cum so hard it was permeating in the air. The mere thought of it made you want to die.
"It was fine..." Jungkook furrowed his brows, his expression suspicious. "Taehyung got the waitress's number."
"Oh! That's great to hear." Your eyes never left his lips, an ache between your legs as you recalled how he had used his mouth in your dream. Fuck, were you crazy to want to feel it right now? "He's not with you?"
"Nah. He just dropped me off. Why? You wanting him to hit on you again?" A flash of annoyance crossed his features.Â
"Pshhh, he didn't mean any of that. He was just trying to ruffle your feathers or something," you dismissed. "I'm sure he'll be plenty occupied with the waitress."
"Right..." He stepped closer to you, which only heightened your anxiety. The scent of his cologne as he neared in proximity was only making you sweat harder. "Are you ok?"
"Never better!" You chirped. "W-Why?"
"You're acting weird... and your face is all flushed." Jungkook narrowed his eyes, stepping closer and reaching a hand out to your forehead. "Are you coming down with something?"
"N-No! It's just hot in here!" You jumped back, not trusting yourself to not scream if he was able to get his hands on you. You stood from the couch, out of arm's reach.
"It's like, freezing in here." Jungkook's eyes flashed down to your attire. "Is that my hoodie?"
"Oh, this?" You internally cursed at yourself for not remembering to take it off. "Well, you're right, it's freezing, so I decided to just put this on, y'know? Figured you wouldn't mind, I mean, you left it on the sofa. I'm sorry. A-and I got really hot in it, so that's why I'm sweating! Crazy how that works. Here, let me give it back." You reached for the bottom of it to yank it off, but suddenly remember you probably soaked the clothes beneath with your sweat too, and that could not be a good look. You lift your arms back down. "...Later."Â
Jungkook's concerned expression didn't leave, and he stared at you as though you had grown two heads. "Y/N... are you sure you're alright?"
"Yup! Right as rain!" You nervously laughed. "I'll give this back to you in the morning. Sorry for borrowing it without asking."
"It's fine, I don't mind." He gave you one last glance over before hesitantly turning toward his room. "I'll... leave you be, then."
You watched as he turned his back, letting out small breath of relief and letting go of the tension you were unaware you were holding. Still, something gnawed at you. Before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, "Jungkook, wait."
He turned his head, clearly surprised with all of your antics this evening. "Yeah?"
"I, um," you tried to choose your words carefully. "I'm sorry for insinuating you were a sleaze. It'd be none of my business even if you were one."
Now he was really staring at you like you were from another planet. You? Genuinely apologizing to him? Unheard of. "Erâ thank you?" He didn't seem as though he were processing this in real time. "Iâ You didn't have to... Thanks."
You nodded your head, pressing your lips together as you felt the newfound awkwardness between you two hang in the air. This was new. In all the years you spent with Jungkook,, awkwardness was never something you endured. "That's it. I just wanted to say that. To you."
"I appreciate it."Â
You spun on your heel to turn to your own room. "Well, that's that! Bye!"
You didn't even make it one step when you felt something grab your wrist.
"Wait."
You slowly turned, eyes glued to the inked fingers wrapped around you, your mind flashing back to how he held you back as Taehyung split you open with his fingers in your dream. Your eyes traveled up to Jungkook's face, his expression nervous as his other hand scratched the back of his neck. His eyes were locked on yours, unwavering.
"I wanted you to know it really isn't something I do often. I... It was a one time thing, and I was a bit tipsy and it just happened. I'm really not like that, usually."
The type to hook up with random women, or the type who did what he apparently did, in that way?
You gulped, trying not to think about it. "It's alright, Jungkook. You don't owe me an explanation."
"I know. I just... felt like you should know."
"Oh." Your lips pursed and went small, and you were unsure what to make of the situation. "Ok."
His eyes scanned your face, trying to read what you were thinking to no avail. He finally let go of your wrist, and where he touched felt like it burned. "I'm... going to make you some soup or something. You're really burning up."
Your hands flew to your cheeks, and it felt like you were practically boiling alive. "Oh," you said again. "Thank you."
Maybe you really were coming down with something. One could only hope it had all just been some fucked up fever dream.
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One time was just a strange, fucked up incident. Twice was merely a coincidence.
Right?
At least that's what you told yourself as the days passed. You very much were not sick, as it turned out, but Jungkook made halfway-decent chicken soup, so who were you to complain? Besides... it was kind of sweet.
All you had to do was avoid him in your tiny, tiny ass apartment. All you had to do was not absolutely ogle him every time he came back from a run, drenched in sweat, shirt hugging him in all the right places. You just needed to turn around and go back to your room when he popped out of the shower, inexcusably indecent despite living with a woman.
You had to remind yourself also that he didn't see you as a woman. You were Y/N, the girl who saw him as nothing more than scum at the bottom of her shoe, someone he had known for his entire life.
He could never, ever know about the secrets hidden beneath his stack of notes.
You considered briefly stealing the book and hiding it in your room, but considering how meticulous and anal Jungkook was about details, there was no doubt he'd notice its absence immediately. Maybe you could buy another book and swap them out?
But... sometimes when you were sure he was asleep or out of the apartment, you'd shuffle past the rose toys and handcuffs in your nightstand drawer, and pull out your trusty Hitachi, plugging it into your extension cord and thinking back to the dreams that haunted you. You'd grab the notebook, eyes scanning over the graphic words, recounting every last nasty thing that had happened in your imagination. You had become quite the writer, it seemed.
Knowing that it was your mind that had created these scenarios with him was baffling. Sure, you had no one to blame but yourself, but you still felt Jungkook should take some accountability for the state you were in.
The worst times were when you'd hear his room or the front door open, and you'd have to hastily yank the cord out of the outlet and let your orgasm die out. You'd silently pray he didn't catch the low buzz emanating from your room, or notice the stack of notebooks was a little bit shorter. Worst of all, you'd have to let your orgasm fade away, knowing that the walls were too thin and the space was too cramped for you to be getting away with indulging in your lewd fantasies.Â
It was like he was unknowingly edging you, which only pissed you off further.
Jungkook was busy showering when you snuck back into the living room, slipping your favorite notebook out from beneath the stack. Unfortunately it was one of those days at work that left you completely exhausted and frustrated beyond belief, and you knew you were going to need all the stress relief you could get tonight. Sure, was obsessively rereading the porno scenarios you came up with about your roommate wrong? Indulging in your fantasies that you could never actually partake in? A debatable maybe. But what Jungkook didn't know wouldn't hurt him.Â
You heard the water turn off, and despite knowing you should hide back in your bedroom, you stayed. Just a peek. Just a little boost for your session tonight, that's all you'd need.
As usual, Jungkook emerged only in a towel hugging dangerously low on his waist. It was pretty much a sin for him to come out like that.
Your gaze explored his impeccable form, the sight of his bare chest and abs most likely enough masturbation material on its own. Pulling a face, you glowered at him. "Why don't you just bring your change of clothes with you when you go in? Or do you just like strutting around the apartment naked?"
He rolled his eyes, running a towel along his hair. "It's just you. What's the big deal?"
You huffed, sliding the notebook to straighten back in place beneath the stack before he could take notice. "Just me. Right."
His brows furrowed. "What? I meantâ"
"No no, I know what you meant," you said, standing from the sofa to retreat back to your room. "I hardly see you as a person anyways, much less a man."
He quirked a brow. "Is that so?"
"It is."
"Then why are you always checking me out?"
You felt your blood freeze, and suddenly you're so, very still. You turn your head to him, blinking rapidly, mind scrambling to come up with a response.Â
"You're delusional," you spat.
"You were doing it just now. You do it every time I step out of the shower, you should be used to it by now."
You guffawed at his accusation. "I-I do not! How do you expect me to react, seeing a man prance around my apartment half naked?"
His lips quirked up at your words. "I thought you didn't see me as a man."
Your eyes practically bulged out of your head in anger. "I don't. Like you'd be any different if I was always walking around here in nothing but a towel! Bet you'd just love that, perv."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Y/N."Â
He finally turned around to disappear into his room, leaving you to grab one of the sofa pillows and scream into it out of frustration. Fuck. He had noticed. You should've known you were being too obvious, but you just couldn't help yourself.
And you definitely didn't sleep well that night.
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Jungkook had you bent over the kitchen counter, your pajama pants pooled around your ankles, his hands squeezing your hips as he rubbed his bulge against your ass. You whined, trying to buck back and grind against him harder, but he kept you in place, pushing you against the counter until your hips were flush against the cold surface.
"You want me to finally put it in you?" He asked huskily in your ear. "Think you can take it?"
You nodded, desperate and pleading, reaching back so you could pull him closer. He didn't let you, grabbing your hands and slapping them down on the counter, grinding his hips harder as you felt the full length of him against you, hidden behind fabric.
"Need it, Jungkook, so bad."
"Mm, know you do," he hummed, "But do you deserve it?"
You think back on your behavior that day and shamefully shook your head. "I don't," you quietly admitted.
He smiled against your ear. "Right answer."
Your heart leaped as he let go of one of your hands, hearing the rustling of clothes as he rid himself of his pants. You gasped as you felt the full length of him land between your cheeks, the size feeling so much bigger than you remembered. Your legs shook, and your pussy got wetter in anticipation.
"Gonna split that tiny pussy in half, just the way you like it," Jungkook promised, grabbing one of your legs and lifting it up. He turned you so you were facing the side, one of your legs in the air as he hooked your ankle over one of his shoulders. He grabbed your hair, forcing you to look down at his enormous cock so close to your pussy, threatening to plunge into you. You bit your lip, feeling yourself involuntarily clench around nothing just looking at the mere size of him.
"This is what you wanted, right?" He asked under his breath, grabbing his cock and running the tip over your folds, letting it travel up to your clit and down to your entrance, but never pushing. "The cock you've been obsessing over like a desperate little slut?"
You nodded in his hold, licking your lips. "Yeah that's," you let out a shaky breath. "That's what I wanted."
"Yeah?" He slowly breached your hole, pushing in just the head, only about an inch, before pulling out, watching the disappointment and impatience in your expression. "Fuck, you're making such a mess on the floor and I haven't even put it in yet."
You looked down, and sure enough the way he teased you with his cock was enough to leave your wet pussy dripping onto the kitchen tiles, a small puddle beneath you.
You moved your hips back, trying to entice him into putting it in again, just a bit deeper. "Please don't tease me."
"But it's so fun. I think you like being bullied, in fact," he slaps his cock against your pussy, watching you wince with each tap. "I think you get wetter the meaner I get."
You shook your head in denial, but he had none of it, hand letting go of his cock to slap against your ass, making you jump. The one leg you stood on shook beneath you, and he hugged the one pressed against him tighter, giving you an uncomfortable stretch and leaving you exposed to one half of the room. "None of that. We both know the truth. You're just a little masochist who wants me to fuck the shit out of her. A desperate little slut."
He positioned the tip back at your hole, sliding in the tip and an inch extra, laughing at how you gasped and stretched around the bulbous head. "So fucking tight. How am I supposed to fit my cock in here, huh?"
"M-Make it fit," you insisted, biting your lip as he pushed in an extra inch.
"Yeah? Would it help if Taehyung was on his knees right now, licking that little clit to make you wetter for me?" Jungkook teased, pulling out again slightly before continuing his shallow thrust.
You shook your head again. You wouldn't be able to handle both of them again, especially with Jungkook's cock inside you this time. "No, don't want him, just need you. Just want you."
"Oh?" He bullied in another inch, watching your face contort at how full you were feeling already. He was only about halfway in. "Why don't you touch your clit and make it easier on yourself, huh? Get this pussy nice and wet for me."
It didn't matter that you were already embarrassingly wet, you did as you were told, a shaky hand coming down to run along your folds.
Jungkook tsked. "Not like that. Do it the way I would."
You brought your hand up a bit higher, rubbing small circles along it.
"That's not it. We both know I wouldn't be so sweet with you."
Jungkook sunk into you a bit deeper and reached around, smacking your hand away and pinching the poor bud between two fingers, using force as he rubbed it. He snickered at your reaction. "Thaaat's it. Feel how you clench around me? Pussy feels so good, doesn't want to let me go."
You panted, feeling him go deeper into you than you had ever experienced, and the stretch had you feeling so full you were going crazy. And he wasn't even all the way in yet.
"Fuck, you feel so fucking good. Just needed a nice, fat cock to shut you up, isn't that right?" He chuckled, sliding in just a bit more, his fingers tapping against your engorged clit with teasing pats. "Little brat just needed to be filled."
With that he finally pushed completely in, balls pressed beneath you as he buried himself to the hilt. The tip pressed snuggly against your cervix, as though you two were a perfect fit. Tears sprung in your eyes from how overwhelmed you were, and he twisted your face to look at him, his cocky, satisfied grin taunting you. He stayed still like that, letting you enjoy the uncomfortable stretch of your thighs and pussy around his enormous cock, all while forcing you to look at him, so it'd be ingrained in your mind who did this to you.Â
"You're nothing but a hole to take my cock right now," he said lowly, the words a gentle caress in your ear. "Know you like it that way, too."
Another drop splashed onto the embarrassing puddle beneath you.
"Feel that?" His hand stopped torturing your clit and came up to your stomach, pushing right below your belly button, making you feel him inside. "Feel how deep I am? Has anyone reached here, baby?"
You shook your head, your pussy squeezing around him as you tried to adjust to his size.
He chuckled. "Didn't think so. Bet you feel nice and full. Aren't you so lucky?"
"Yes, I am, fuck." You tried to blink away the tears. His cock was fucking enormous, hitting sweet spots inside you you didn't even know existed. You really did feel like you were being split in half. "You're so fucking big."
"Yeah baby? Like the way I stretch you out? You took it so well, didn't know you had it in you." He pressed harder against the bulge protruding in your abdomen, letting you feel how deep it was. "Now I want you imagine what it'll be like when I finally fuck you with it."
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You gasped, feeling all too sticky for your liking. You glanced at the clock.Â
4:45 AM.
Slowing your breath, you grabbed one of your pillows and screamed into it, kicking at your ruined sheets.
Fuck, it really wasn't over.
You had a problem.
It continued like that for much longer than you had ever hoped. Early morning laundry at the most ridiculous times. Downing coffee constantly because you were practically afraid of falling asleep again and seeing him. Jungkook had completely ruined your sleep schedule. You ended up buying another set of sheets to add to the rotation, and now you were filling up the notebook with more porn than the calculus notes it started off with.Â
You were frustrated beyond belief, Jungkook taunting you every waking and sleeping moment. It's not like he had any clue, which only made it worse. He got to obliviously prance around the place, whereas you were suffering in his mere presence. Admittedly you were taking out your unwarranted frustration on him, but you couldn't help it. Every time you were greeted with those innocent, doe eyes you were reminded of the sadistic glint in them the night before. Your body had a reaction any time you saw him, your insides screaming and a heartbeat in your nether regions when he so much as glanced to you.
You became much more snippy with him, cutting conversations short and being much more bitchy than usual, and that was saying something.
Poor Jungkook had no clue what he had done so wrong.
"Seriously, what has been your issue?" He confronted you, arms crossed as he caged you into the kitchen, blocking the way out.
"You," you snapped, downing a cup of coffee, trying not to think of the dream that had left your panties drenched.
Both of your handcuffs had been used to lock your wrists on either bedpost, your sleep mask covering your eyes as you leaned forward, arms straining as you tried to break free. Your mouth was gaping, tongue dangling from your mouth like a dog, Jungkook's cock mere centimeters from your lips. You could practically taste the pre-cum that was oozing out of the tip.
Jungkook's hands gripped the bedpost above you, hips just far back enough to deny you of what you were craving. His cruel chuckle met your ears as he watched your desperation.
"C'mon, you're barely even trying. You must not want it bad enough."
You tried to inch forward more, barely getting any closer.
"That's it, you're almost there." Jungkook took his cock in one hand and stroked it slowly, hand twisting over the head to spread the lubricant over it. "You want my cock so bad. C'mon, know you can almost taste it."
You mewled when you finally felt the tip on your lips, licking over the small slit and sticking your tongue out so you could twirl it around the head.
You snapped out of the daydream and back to reality, the taste of Jungkook's pre-cum still being on the tip of your tongue. Your face burned as you tried to step past him, but he blocked your exit.
"Yeah, it's always me, which I don't get because I've been completely decent to you. I thought we were actually getting along for a second. But lately you've just been a complete bitch to me for no reason."
You fumed, not in the mood for the conversation. Sure, Real-Jungkook had been civilized, but Dream-Jungkook had been nothing but an animal. "What? You were expecting me to like you all of the sudden? Please."
You tried to step around him again, but he stepped to the same side, not letting up. "We used to get along as kids, y'know. What happened?"
You did not want to think about when you were kids. "I realized I hated you. I still hate you. Simple."
"Why?" His nostrils flared. "I never understood it. One day you suddenly decided you wanted nothing to do with me. What's the reason?"
Your mouth dropped open as your mind scrambled for an explanation, but nothing came out.
Jungkook let out a scoff. "You can't fucking stand me, and you don't even know why. It's pathetic."
Pathetic. That word rung in your head, the same word he'd whisper into your ear in your dreams when he made you cum over and over again. Your face burned up more, and you took a step back, putting up an accusatory finger. "Please! Don't act like you like me all of the sudden. We only moved in together out of convenience, not because we're actually friends or anything."
He bared his teeth, glaring at you. "You know what? You're right. I hate you too. Can't fucking stand you right now."
"Good!" you shot back.
He finally moved out of the way towards his room, and you stomped out of the kitchen to the sofa, turning your back to grab at the notebook, fire in your veins. He was the reason you were suffering so much, and you knew just from seeing him pissed you were going to have another rough night.Â
"What the fuck is up with you and that book?" Jungkook hissed. Apparently he hadn't gone to his room just yet. Stupid you, not waiting until you heard his door closed.
You spun around, scowling. "What, a girl can't fucking learn now and then?"
"You're always going through it, I didn't even write that many notes."
"Well I have to go over it again and again since I didn't take Calc 1, remember?" You quickly tried to cover your tracks, gripping onto the book like it were a life line. "Stop being so obsessed with me and mind your business, maybe."
Jungkook gritted his teeth, a vein popping up along his neck out of anger. "Fucking whatever. Suit yourself."
Finally, you heard his door slam shut, and you let out a breath of relief.
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Luckily for you, Jungkook's finals were coming up, so your real-life interactions with him were much more limited. Most of the time he would simply give you a grunt of acknowledgement when you came home from work, sitting at the sofa, surrounded by his notes. At first you got a bit anxious that he was so close to your previous book, but the bottom half of the stack remained mostly undisturbed. Hell, he was now sleeping in more and skipping his morning runs, up late studying, which meant when you were up from one of those terrible, awful, no good dreams, you could do your laundry and scribble in the book in peace.
You were running out of pages, and seriously had to consider going out and buying a notebook of your own if this were to keep up. You weren't sure how much more of this could take. Maybe it'd be worth it to move back in with your parents. At least then you'd be freed of this torment.Â
You were having to buy so many things lately. New bedsheets for the rotation. Another book for you to scribble out the depraved fantasies that should never see the light of day. Hell, maybe even a new vibrator, because Dream-Kook just loved reminding you how much you needed to be filled, and it seemed to be more and more true every day. He was turning out to be quite the expense.
Occasionally you considered sleeping with someone else to get it out of your system. Maybe taking up Taehyung on his offer. He was in a dream too, after all. But Jungkook was already beyond pissed at you, and sleeping with his friend would surely and rightfully send him over the edge. You were afraid what would happen if he were to actually snap, and with how much you two had been bickering lately, his patience was clearly running thin. Even if you were to bring another man home with you, something told you it wasn't a great idea. For some reason you hated the idea of Jungkook knowing.
Even in your dreams he seemed to taunt you about it.
"Now what would you do that for? You know no one can satisfy you the way I can, stretch you out as like me. Why don't you stop wasting everyone's time and just ask? Maybe beg nicely and I'll actually give you what you want."
Nope. Not happening. There was absolutely no way you could let Jungkook know you had been thinking about him like this. If your sinful thoughts ever got to him, you'd never hear the end of it. The mere thought of him finding out mortified you. It was bad enough he had caught you checking him out one too many times. What would happen if he were to discover every graphic detail of what you dreamt of him doing to you?
Work had been hell. It seemed your dreams had morphed into daydreams, distracting you throughout the day now and invading every aspect of your life. You had zoned out thinking about Jungkook using BDSM tape, covering your pussy to trap his cum inside, and turning your Hitachi on the highest setting as it pressed against you.
Let's just say you were less than productive today. Clearly your desires were morphing becoming depraved by the day. You were going clinically insane.Â
You muttered to yourself as you fumbled with your keys in the door. You had to stay overtime to make up for the work lost during your daydreaming. Honestly, you should find some way to legally sue Jeon Jungkook. It was the least you could do. This sleep deprivation was a literal form of torture, who could blame you for going a bit insane? That's what you told yourself when you ate some of Jungkook's cinnamon buns out of retribution. At least you had tomorrow off.
Tonight you were going to wait until the Jungkook eventually tired himself out from studying, and go ham on yourself with the Hitachi. Write down the little daydream that had you squirming in your seat, too. You uncomfortably pulled at your skirt and smoothed over your button down, noting to yourself that you should probably wear pants to work for the foreseeable future.Â
You slammed the door shut, seeing Jungkook hunched over his papers as usual. You gave him a passing grunt of acknowledgement, tossing your keys into the bowl.
He looked up at you from over the couch, and there was something in his eyes you couldn't quite place. He seemed almost angry, which didn't make sense because you had just gotten here. Did he know you ate one of his protein bars this morning or something? Maybe he was just frustrated from studying.Â
"Not even a hello?" You scoffed. Usually he'd at least grunt back at you. Rude.
You walked past the couch to go to your room, but spotted something from the corner of your eye.Â
In Jungkook's hand was his red Calc 2 notebook.Â
Your eyes widened, and you tried to keep your face as neutral as possible as your mind scrambled. No. There was no way. He never even touched that fucking book! He finished that class a semester ago, why would he? Maybe he didn't go to the last pages. He himself knew he only filled out maybe a third of it, he probably stayed in that section.Â
Your eyes darted between your bedroom door and your front door, weighing the two options. Should you lock yourself in your bedroom and refuse to come out? You'd probably wither and starve in there, but it'd be better than inevitably having to come out and face Jungkook. Maybe go back to the front door and drive away? That'll look too suspicious!
Calm down, Y/N!
You halted your hesitation, taking shaky steps toward your bedroom. You were just being paranoid. That's it.
You twisted the knob, opening it barely an inch before a tattooed hand above you slammed it back shut.
You froze.
Slowly turning around and facing up, you gulped in fear, coming face to face with Jungkook.
He now hovered over you, eyes dark as he caged you in with his large body, notebook clutched tightly in the hand that wasn't refusing you access to your bedroom.
He seemed much too calm for your liking, eerily quiet as he took in your nervous expression, the way you trembled like a leaf underneath him already, guilt written all over your face.
Jungkook lifted the notebook to eye level, the sharpied Calc 2 title taunting you. "Care to tell me what this is?"
Your mouth felt very dry all of the sudden, and your eyes flitted about your surroundings, searching for an escape. "Y-Your notes?"
"Oh really? Because I don't remember writing," he opened the book with one hand, letting it land on a random page, "about how I was so deep inside you, you felt me in the back of your throat."
You felt all the blood drain from your face, color being washed away. You were too ashamed to even look at him. "I... I can explain."
"Oh I'd love an explaination." He snapped the book shut dramatically. "I'd love to hear whatever excuse you came up with as to why you used nearly 200 of my pages to write twisted porn about me."
You wanted to die. You wanted die right here, right now. For the floor to swallow you whole.
Your mouth dropped, but no sound escaped you. What could you say? He clearly saw everything. Every goddamn graphic detail you had scribbled into that stupid book had now come to bite you in the ass.
"Thought you didn't see me as a man, Y/N." He tsked, narrowing his eyes as he waved the book in your face. "Was wondering what had you so fucking obsessed with this. Knew you weren't just studying my fucking calculus notes. How long have you been writing these sick fantasies in here, huh?"
You stared down at the floor, and Jungkook grabbed your jaw, forcing you to make eye contact with him. He looked beyond pissed. You tried to swallow, your knees threatening to give out under you. "S-Since I talked to Layla."
A small breath escaped his lips. "Is that right?" His mouth quirked up, a near smirk appearing on his face. "What'd she tell you, huh?"
You shook your head, closing your eyes.
He craned your neck up, forcing your to arch your back against the door, the back of your head now pressed against it. He gritted his teeth. "Answer me," he demanded.
"Told me you were big," you gasped out. "That you were rough. And mean."
Jungkook tilted his head. "Is that right?"
Your bottom lip trembled, feeling the blood now rush to your cheeks. You couldn't escape Jungkook's tight grasp or scrutinizing glare, forced to feel the humiliation from being caught. "It's all your fault," you deflected. "It's your fucking fault I've been having these dreams. You made me do it."
"I did?" His nostrils flared, fingers tensing around your face, pressing into your cheeks with anger. Your lips jutted out, rendering you silent. "You're blaming me for you writing out this absolute filth? About how you begged for my cock, how you dreamed of me putting my tongue anywhere I pleased, using you? No, you don't get to put this on me."
"I do!" You barely managed to gasp the words out through his grip. Your hands reached for the notebook, but he held it out of your reach, refusing to give it up. You wrenched your face free from his hold, glaring at him with disdain. "You've been galavanting half naked practically every day! It's your fault I haven't gotten any fucking sleep, that I'm fucking tormented with these dreams to the fact I had to write it out to get it out of my system! I haven't been able to sleep properly in weeks! I'm constantly having to wash my sheets, hide in my own fucking apartment, all because of you! I fucking hate you!"
Jungkook's gaze hardened, and suddenly he was very,very quiet.
"Is that so?"
Suddenly you regretted your words, because he twisted he knob behind you, and you felt yourself falling back into the door you had previously been leaning on. Jungkook doesn't let you hit the ground, though, hand again clasped around your jaw as he walked you backwards, letting your back hit the mattress.Â
He climbed on top of you, throwing the notebook aside as he pinned you down. "Say it again."
Your eyes were wide as you stared up at him, one of his hands beside your head and the other one holding a firm grip on your jaw, forcing you to maintain eye contact.Â
Very quietly, you whispered out the words. "I hate you."
That's when Jungkook did something he never had in any of your dreams.
He leaned down and kissed you.
You immediately gasped in surprise, and Jungkook didn't wait to force his tongue in your mouth, completely overwhelming you as he pressed his mouth harder against yours. You couldn't even turn away, having to take it as he explored every part of you available, his movements precise and deliberate as if he had something to lose. On instinct, and not wanting to lose, you found yourself kissing him back, pink muscle dancing with his as you kissed him harder, screwing your eyes shut and giving him everything you had. His kiss wasn't gentle or sweet, instead an angry clash of tongue and teeth as he ravished your mouth, as though he were trying to teach you a lesson through that alone. Your hands wove in his hair, the tendrils just as soft as you always imagined.
"Fucking hate you, too," he growled against your lips, the vibrations from his words making your stomach flip. "Gonna show you how much."
You couldn't fucking believe you were doing this with Jungkook, the boy you swore hated since you started becoming fully conscious. The boy, turned man, who made your stomach do somersaults and knew you since the two of you were little kids. There was so much shared history between you two that couldn't be forgotten, too many years. And here he was, licking into your mouth and swallowing every whine and whimper like it was fucking owed to him.
After what felt like forever, he finally allowed you air, both of you gasping for breath, a line of saliva still connecting you two before snapping off. He glared at you with absolute intensity, his hand letting go of your jaw to land on the other side of your head and support his weight.
Both of you were still breathless, staring at each other, your eyes wide and his narrowed.
You couldn't believe he had actually done it. You also couldn't believe that you actually liked it, a lot more in reality than you ever would have in your dreams.
"You're such a dirty liar," he hissed. "You only hate me because you want me."
"Y-You're fucking delusional," you denied, despite the fact it was clearly pointless. Anyone could see you were lying out of your ass.
"Am I?" Before you can stop him, his hand shoved your skirt up to your waist, yanking your panties and twisting the fabric as he ripped them down your thighs.
You didn't even have time to hide it. You were so embarrassingly wet, thick strings of your arousal stretching from your messy cunt to the patch in your underwear as it desperately tried to cling to it.
Jungkook scowled back at your mortified expression, eyes glued to how wet you had gotten just from his kiss and confrontation. "Don't you dare lie to me when your pussy reacts like this," he growled, hand coming up and landing a sharp smack right on your center.
You let out an wanton moan, unable to hide it as you bucked back against his hand, thighs rubbing together now like matches. Jungkook had none of it, grabbing your knees and forcing them apart so he could take a good look at your shame. His tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek as he stared at you, unable to hide the evidence of how he affected you.Â
"How long were you planning on hiding this from me, huh?" His hand came up to your pussy, running between the slippery folds, your slick collecting on his fingers. "How long were you going to keep the fact that you've been having these nasty dreams about me almost every night?"
You bit your lip, closing your eyes, refusing to answer.
Jungkook didn't like that.
He slapped your cunt again, manhandling your legs back apart when you tried to shut them back together. "Fucking answer or I swear to God I'll edge you for hours."
"Forever," you admitted, shame washing over you. "You were never supposed to know."
"Oh? So you were just going to keep this a secret?" He slipped two fingers around your clit before pinching, the same way he did in your dreams, watching you whine at the sensation and squeal. "Were never going to tell me about how you thought about me fucking your face until you passed out? Or sharing you with my friend? Or how I used every nasty sex toy in your drawer on you until you were begging me to stop?"
"F-Fuck, Jungkook!" He pinched you again, rubbing harder against your clit as it became engorged. "Please, please, justâ"
"What?" He rubbed slower now, tantalizing circles that made you want to grind down on him harder. "Have mercy? When you were being such a brat a minute ago?"
He didn't wait before plunging two digits inside of you, and you were so wet he didn't even meet any resistance. He curled them up, pressing them against that rough patch that had your toes curl. "I'm not going to be nice to you anymore. We both know you don't want that anyway."
Your hands wrapped around his wrist, feeling the way his muscles worked with every curl of his fingers inside of you. It felt far more overwhelming than any of your dreams already, his cologne wrapping around you and making your brain foggy, his digits moving with expertise threatening make you cum hard enough to see stars.
You couldn't give in so easily. You were mortified by the thought of him knowing it only took his fingers to make you undone.
You bit your lip, holding back your moans as best you could, swallowing every whimper that threatened to expose you.Â
"What happened to all those cute moans earlier, huh princess?" His tone was belittling, making you feel smaller beneath him. "C'mon, don't be shy. You certainly weren't in that little notebook of yours."
"Was faking them," you hissed through gritted teeth, not wanting to give in. He always hated how stubborn you were.
His eyes narrowed. "Faking it huh?" He pressed his other hand down against your abdomen, shoving another finger inside of you and increasing the speed of his thrusts. "Let's see how well you can fake it, then."
You could hardly contain your squeal as all three fingers quirked up, jackhammering into your sweet spot, his other hand pressing hard against your bladder to let you feel the pressure building up. His thumb toyed with your clit, swiping quick circles, and the sloppy lewd sounds of your wet pussy filled your room with undeniable proof. You dug your nails into his wrists, almost hard enough for him to bleed, but he didn't stop, licking his lips as if he could already taste your orgasm on his tongue.
He buried his fingers as deep as he could manage, grinding his thumb against your clit as you whimpered underneath him. A sadistic smile spread on his face as he leaned in closer, making you hear how your wet pussy swallowed his fingers. "Want me to stop? I can always leave you here like this, since you hate it so much."
You quickly shook your head, already wanting to cry at the thought, and your chest burned with humiliation as he laughed at you. He slipped his pinky into you as well, four fingers filling and stretching you, his thrusts brutal as he slammed them into you. He barely managed to squeeze all four of his digits into you, your tight cunt practically strangling them as you clenched down. "No? Don't stop? Thought you were faking it, baby."
"Please, don't... don't..!"
Your unfinished sentence hung in the air as your ass rose from the mattress, liquid spilling out of you and splashing onto Jungkook's clothes and the mattress. He cursed, fucking you harder with his fingers, wringing out every drop you had to over until you were left trembling like a leaf. His eyes looked practically insane, dark and enamored in how you fell apart beneath him, only making him want more.
When you collapsed back down, he finally pulled out, grinning as he took a long lick along his hand, tasting your cum. You were left flushed and breathless, mind blank as you tried to process the fact Jungkook had just made you squirt like that.Â
"Tell me you faked that. Go ahead. Try."Â You couldn't, there was no use, and he knew it. He chuckled, slapping his wet hand against your puffy sex, cruelly laughing at how your hips jumped again. "Can't believe you have such a weak pussy, cumming so easily from just my fingers. Fucking squirted everywhere, ruined my clothes. You should apologize."
"You... You made your pointâ"
You weren't able to finish, Jungkook's hand wrapping around your throat to cut you off.
"Shut up."
He clambered over you between your thighs, other hand coming up to your mouth. He pressed his thumb against your bottom lip, and you obediently opened, letting him in and sucking on it, tasting some of your arousal on him. He ground his hips against yours, and you felt the thick, heavy bulge press against you.Â
His fingers tensed around your neck, a small whimper passing through as you stared up at him with wide, deceitfully innocent eyes.
"Aw." He smirked, tilting his head at you. "You're actually kind of cute like this."
You opened your mouth to make some sort of retort, but he squeezed again, halting any bratty comment you were about to make.Â
"Should've fucking known. The sudden obsession with my notes. The random laundry hours. The way you'd spend forever in your room fucking yourself with your vibrator. How you'd stare at me like you wanted me to destroy you, just like this." He pressed his thumb against your tongue, pinning it down. "Open."
You did as you were told, parting your mouth as he pursed his lips, letting a wad of spit dangle down his tongue and into your waiting mouth. He pulled out his thumb. "Swallow."
Obediently, you did so, feeling Jungkook's palm pressed against your throat as you swallowed.Â
His fingers flexed around the column. "Want me to fuck your throat? Want me to suffocate you on the cock you've been fucking obsessing over?"
You nodded eagerly, only to be delivered a sharp slap to your mouth. Your jaw tingled with delicious pain, a dull throb starting as he glared down at you with absolute disgust. Most embarrassing of all was the unabashed moan that unintentionally escaped your lips as soon as he hit you.
"You don't deserve it," he spat. "Say it."
"I..." You swallowed again, harder now with how Jungkook's hand tightened on your neck. "I don't deserve it."
"Deserve what?"
"I don't deserve to suck your cock!" Jungkook finally let go of your throat, and you sucked in greedy amounts of air as oxygen refilled your lungs.
"That's right," he tsked, finally pulling back. "Brats like you don't deserve shit from me."
He hooked his hands under your knees, forcing them up and folding you in half, pressing them into your shoulders. Your bare cunt twitched under his harsh stare, and you tried to reach for him to no avail. All of your holes were exposed, his for the taking.
"Such a pretty fucking pussy." He admired your messy cunt in awe, watching how you quivered in anticipation of what he'd do next. "Can't believe you've been keeping this from me."
Unable to resist any longer, he dove in, burying his tongue in you as far as it would go, mashing his nose up against your clit as he breathed you in. You moaned, fingers tangling into his locks, tugging at the strands as he went as deep as his jaw would allow. "Jungkook!" You cried, gasping at the sensation.
"Like this?" He mumbled into you, coming up for air just for a second to spit on your pussy, licking a broad stripe up your core. "Like the man you hate eating your nasty little cunt?"
You felt your cheeks burn at his dirty words, squirming as he attached his mouth again, the tip of his tongue flicking up and down your clit without hesitation. He sucked on it before slurping up the wetness that came pouring out of you, the sloppy, obscene sounds only adding to your further embarrassment. You couldn't even do a good job at pretending to hate this anymore. It was clear to both you and Jungkook that you were loving every second.
"This weak pussy gonna cum for me again?" He asked, making eye contact as he licked up your pussy again, watching you whimper as the tip of his tongue brushed your clit. "Gonna show me how pathetic you really are?"
Your hand curled into a fist in his hair, making his scalp sting. You held on to whatever remnants of your pride was left. "I-I won't!"
"Mm, you will," he smiled against you, and you felt the insertion of two digits again, curling back into the spot that destroyed you before. You moaned, head tilting back as you knew you were already done for. "Want me to fuck up this pussy so bad. Don't even need my dick to break you. You're such a desperate slut, you'd take anything."
You nodded, knowing everything he said was factual. You didn't even have the will-power to deny it.
"You don't even deserve to feel this good," Jungkook growled, glaring down at you, his fingers vicious as they pounded into you. The wet squelch from between your thighs, and how you clamped down on his fingers like a vice, let him know you knew it was the truth. "Yet here I am, being so fucking nice to you, when you've been nothing but a bitch to me for years."
His mouth latched on your clit again, giving harsh sucks until your thighs quaked, and you were gushing into his mouth all over again. You felt your eyes begin to cross, orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave, and all you could feel was Jungkook's lips around your clit and his fingers curling inside you, pressed right up on the spot that had you seeing stars.
Your legs finally fell back flat on the bed, and your chest rose and sunk with every breath you took. Jungkook's mouth detached from you, a smirk of satisfaction on his glistening face and rosy lips.Â
"You didn't even pretend to fight it on that one. Don't tell me you're giving up already," he snickered, spreading your pussy with his thumbs, watching it twitch and quiver in your post-orgasmic state. "I've barely even started."
He manhandled you over on your stomach, pulling your ass into the air and slapping it hard enough for your entire cheek to sting.
"Y-You're so f-fucking mean," you whined.
"Yeah? Hearing you cry like that only makes me want to be meaner," he grinned, gripping your ass with both hands and spreading your cheeks to expose your holes, your wet pussy not helping your predicament. He dug his nails in before smacking the already sore cheek. "I can't help that you like to get fucked like this."
You yelped, turning back to him with tears in your eyes. "S-Sadistic bastard," you hissed.
"Masochistic slut," he smiled, spanking your other cheek.
Finally, you heard the rustling of clothes behind you, and you couldn't help but crane your neck to finally, finally see what you've been waiting for all this time.
You stared at the literal dick of your dreams, gigantic and thick, everything you had imagined and more. He was hung as hell, just like you dreamed. Jungkook's monster cock looked like it should only belong in porn. It didn't help that Jungkook was unfairly, haughtily, and all to aware of this, his cocky grin as he tugged his shirt over his head telling you he knew exactly what you were thinking.Â
"Big enough for you princess?" He mocked, his voice teasing. His body was a perfect match for his dick, large and hard and perfectly built to wreck you. "Is it exactly like you dreamed of?"
You hated how he read you like an open book, knowing he didn't even ask. He just wanted to humiliate you even more. Defiantly, you eyed up his cock, jutting up your chin at him. "I expected better."
His jaw clenched and his nostrils flared at your brattiness. "Yeah?" He gripped onto your hips, sliding your skirt to bunch up your waist further. "You should have no problem taking it, then."
You immediately regretted your decision when he shoved your head down into your pillows, tapping the head of his cock against your folds with wet smacks. His grip on your ass was possessive, fingers digging in as he teased his cockhead against your hole, barely thrusting in half an inch in and out as your pussy made loud, filthy noises. Even with how dripping wet you were and the two orgasms prior, you weren't sure if you'd be able to take him in the same way you had in your fantasies.
Still, the way he barely let you feel the tip was driving you crazy. You gnawed at your lip, trying to push back to have him sink into you, but his grip on your hips was too strong. "Just put your stupid dick in me already!"
"Oh? So much attitude." He sunk in a bit further, the head of him inside you now, and how thick it already felt made your thighs quiver at the prospect. "Want me to fuck up your insides so bad but can't even ask nicely. Stupid brat still needs to be put in her place."
He gave you another inch, laughing at how you quieted down, savoring how your walls flitted around him, trying to accommodate his intimidating girth.Â
"Oh? So quiet now. Why's that?" He slid in a bit more, hissing at how you squeezed him so tight. You on the other hand, gripped onto the bed sheets, rendered silent as you pondered how you were really going to fit all of him in you like this. "Where'd all that bitchiness go?"
Jungkook was met with resistance as he forced himself in you a bit further, and hissed with how you practically strangled his cock. He tried to pull his hips back and fuck you shallowly, but the way you gripped him tight like you didn't want to let him go made it difficult. "Fuck, how're you still so tight? You're so fucking wet, made you squirt everywhere, and you're still choking on me like crazy."
"It's your fault!" You popped your head up to glare at him over his shoulders, your eyes glassy with tears. "Your s-stupid dick is too big."
He let out a breathless laugh. "Really? You gonna start crying already?"
He shoved your head back into the pillows, mounting you as he bullied his cock deeper inside.
"I'm not even halfway in yet, princess." He pushed his hips in more, snickering at how you gasped and tears sprung at the corner of your eyes. "You talked such big game, but you're struggling to take me. What good even are you?"
You didn't respond, his words true and causing your face to heat up with embarrassment.Â
"Do you need help, baby?"
Weakly, you nodded, bruising your pride as you admitted defeat. Jungkook laughed at your expense, clearly enjoying watching you let go of your stubbornness. Slowly but surely, he was breaking you just as promised.
"Where's your vibrator?"
Your stomach did a flip.
"What?"
"Your vibrator. The one I had to hear you fuck yourself with basically every day? When I was just a few feet away?" He cracked his hand down on your ass, the sound of the impact echoing in your bedroom. "Where is it?"
Warily, your eyes slid over to your nightstand, and Jungkook got the hint. Reaching over, he yanked out the drawer, your prized possessions revealed to him. Your handcuffs, rose toys, all of it was now privy to his scrutinizing gaze.
He clicked his tongue at the sight. "Well well, you've certainly got quite the collection, don't you?"
Humiliation heated your face, but somehow it only made you wetter, Jungkook's cock sliding in a bit deeper into your pussy. He hissed at the sensation.
"I think I'll go with this one."
Your eyes widened as he pulled out your favorite Hitachi wand, plugging the cord into the extension by your bed and having it whir to life. You tried to close your legs again, but Jungkook smacked one of your thighs, adjusting you so your legs spread even wider beneath him, your back dipping into a low arch. "None of that. You need help, remember?"
He brought the wand down beneath you, the buzzing head dangerously close to your dripping cunt. "This should do it."
He pressed it down against you, and you let out an obscene moan, legs starting to shake as you involuntarily sank down further against his cock. He only mashed it harder against your clit, loving how you unabashedly whined and kicked your feet as it overwhelmed you, your incessant moans too much to even try and hide.
"Thaaaat's it. Look how you're opening up for me." He was already more than halfway in you now, able to feel the vibrations of the wand on his dick as your walls slicked up more, welcoming him much quicker. Drops of you were starting to spill onto your sheets again, ruining them. "Good girl, you're almost there. Doing so good. You're taking me so well."
You were so glad Jungkook couldn't see your expression, the way your eyes were starting to cross and your toes were curling, your orgasm building up as he nuzzled the head deeper against your folds, making you feel every vibration as his cock plunged further and further into you.
Right when you felt your orgasm approach, he slammed completely into you, cockhead spearing to the deepest part of you against your cervix, hitting sweet spots you thought you only imagined, his balls flushed against your sopping folds. He pulled the vibrator away, turning it off, forcing you to feel the way you took all of him, and how so very full you were.
Even without the added stimulation of the Hitachi, you thought you were going crazy, clambering at the sheets as you tried to pull your hips back from him for mercy. He didn't give it to you, though, hips pushing forward with yours, forcing you to stay full and feel the way he stretched you completely. He ground as deep as he could against you, wanting you to feel every part of him.
"Don't run from it. You begged for this, remember?" He squeezed onto your hips, keeping your ass flush against him, not letting you escape. "That was what the vibrator was for."
Your legs trembled underneath you, his cockhead rubbing so deeply in you you felt your belly bulging beneath you. He wasn't even moving and you felt like you were going to burst.
"F-Fuck, Jungkook, please please pleaseâ" You dropped your head into your again pillows, babbling out nonsense into the cotton as he pressed his hips as hard against you as he could, feeling your gummy walls swallow him.
"Such a good pussy. Can't help but want to bully it even more," he rasped to himself, balls snug against your clit. Your arousal was coating even his thighs now, a large wet spot darkening on your sheets beneath you as you continued to drip. "Is this why you give me so much attitude all the time? Just hoping I could put you in your place like this? Use you however I want, just like you dreamed? "
You nodded into the pillow, turning your face, one tearful eye staring at him with pleas. "Yes, please just..."
"Just what?" A sadistic grin appeared on his lips. "Move?"
You don't even get the time to respond as he pulled his hips back, leaving just the fat head in you before slamming back in, the brutal thrust making your legs shake. His balls smacked against your clit and pressed against you as he leaned all his weight on you, and before you knew it you were cumming.
Your hands balled into fists as you let out a moan, and your mind went blank, unable to even worry about the noise complaints that were sure to follow in the morning.
Jungkook's evil laugh echoed in your ear as he watched you fall apart beneath him, his hands being the only thing holding you up. "Did you seriously just cum?" You wanted to slap the shit eating grin off his face. "You really are fucking weak."
He pulled back out again, thrusting into you, watching you scramble as he wrecked your pussy, repeatedly hitting those sweet spots over and over again. He leaned down, letting go of one of your hips to wrap his bicep around your throat, squeezing as he pulled you in to meet his thrusts, his other hand landing next to yours to keep himself up. You choked, face free from the pillows, tears streaming down your cheeks as he pounded into you, forcing you to take it like a good girl.
"So fucking pathetic," he cooed in your ear, his tone belittling with mock pity. "Wanted me to fuck you stupid when you're already fucking brainless."
You nodded in his hold, unable to do anything but agree and take it, his huge, pornstar cock destroying you with every passing thrust. He continuously grunted in your ear, his moans making your stomach churn as you heard how your pussy was wrecking him too.
"You really don't deserve such a good pussy, fuck," he cursed. "Shit's too good. Best pussy I've ever had, of fucking course it had to be you."
You felt the same way. You couldn't even process the fact that Jeon Jungkook of all people was giving you the best dick of your life. If someone told you that before the two of you moved in together, you would've had them checked into an asylum.
You used one hand that wasn't supporting yourself to grip onto his forearm, nails raking down it as you were forced to endure his brutal backshots. He growled in your ear, biting at the shell of it to give you a taste of pain too.Â
"S-So much," you gasped out. "Too deep."
"Yeah?" He yanked you up, straightening his back and arching yours as he forced you upright, bicep still curled around your neck. He pressed his hand on your stomach, the bulge protruding from you, moving as he pummeled into you. "Like it here? Like how fucking deep I am?"
You nodded, whining as he pushed down on you, pressure building.
His hand slid further down, toying with your clit, giving it that same mean pinch and rub that had you seeing stars. You were starting to go light-headed from his choking, the corners of your vision blurring, every little thing driving you mad. He twisted his arm, forcing you to turn your head toward him, and he captured your lips, forcing his tongue back in your mouth to make you go crazy, tasting him as he barreled into you.
"Dumb fucking slut," he mumbled against your lips.
You came again, going weightless in Jungkook's arms as your knees practically gave out, thighs quaking. You felt your arousal dripping down them and to your knees, and Jungkook fucked you through it, moaning as he felt your pussy spasm and clench around him like a vice.Â
He finally released you, unhooking his arm and letting you collapse face first into the bed, the strength drained from your body as he gripped back onto your hips, throwing your ass back to meet his thrusts. He planted both feet on the bed, squatting over you as he used your limp body like a toy, burying himself balls deep again as he unloaded inside of you.Â
"Fucking t-take it!"Â
You whined, feeling his cock twitch and move, pressed right against your cervix, the warm fluid coating your walls in white.Â
At last Jungkook pulled out, cock still heavy after he drained his balls in you, leaking with leftover cum. Some trickled out of your hole, and your hips slowly slid down as you laid flat against the mattress, thoroughly fucked out.
Jungkook ran a hand through his sweaty hair, breathing heavily as he took in your limp state. Flipping you onto your back, you couldn't even protest.
He dragged your skirt down your legs and undid your shirt, pulling the offensive material off to finally see your bare form. He squeezed one of your tits, fingers tugging at a nipple as he watched you writhe at his touch. He leaned in, biting and sucking at the skin available to him to cover you in bruises and marks, evidence that would last for days and remind you of how he completely dominated you.
"You were right, you know. Earlier." He panted, enamored at your stiff nipples, toying with them as he pleased. He sucked at your neck, giving a cruel nip before licking over the marks left behind. "If you were walking around the apartment in just a towel, I don't think I would've been able to resist this slutty little body. I would've ripped it off you and bent you over the nearest surface. I wouldn't even be able to hold myself back."
He pinched both nipples, pulling them up to make your back arch, your whines music to his ears.
Licking his lips, he smirked. "You probably wouldn't have even tried to stop me."
You weakly nodded as he finally let go of you, but your relief is short lived, hearing the sound of a loud buzz returning. Opening your eyes, you see the hitachi back in his hands, thrumming back to life, his smile sadistic as he took in your expression.
"W-Wait!" You tried to cross your legs, but he forced them apart again, hand shoving against a knee to expose your puffy core to him once more.
"Can't have you talking shit again, baby," he cooed, spreading your spent cunt and pressing the vibrating head against you. "Need to make sure you to know who you belong to."
You practically screamed feeling the vibrator on you again, Jungkook's cum gushing out of you as your pussy spasmed. It pooled beneath your ass onto the sheets, the white liquid spilling between your cheeks. You felt like such a hot, sticky mess, but Jungkook didn't seem to care. His grin only widened as he continued to torture you with pleasure.
"Look at me," he commanded, gripping your jaw and forcing you to face him, staring between his face and the vibrator in his hand as he pressed it harder against you. "Want you to remember it was me who did this to you. Made you a fucking mess for me."
You cried, the overstimulation hurting oh so good, an orgasm you couldn't even avoid threatening to take over again. You didn't even know you could cum this much; you thought it was only the thing of dreams, but Jungkook was intent on outdoing your fantasies and then some.
"Should've just come to me instead of scribbling in that stupid little book," he chastised, watching as he milked out all of the cum from your pussy. He should fill it back up when you're empty again. "Should've let me ruin you the way you always wanted. Could've just knocked."
"I-I didn't thinkâ"
"You never think," he shot back. "Don't use that pretty little head of yours for anything except insults, trying to get under my skin. Just hoping I'd fuck you hard enough to get rid of that bitchy attitude."
You nodded in agreement, feeling another orgasm take over you.
"Are you going to cum again? C'mon, thank me when you do."
"Th-Thank youuu!" You shouted out the words as you came, thighs trembling to the same tune as the vibrator, eyes on Jungkook just like he demanded.
When your whimpers transitioned into weak pleas, he finally turned the vibrator off, having mercy on your poor, sweaty form. Grabbing the backs of your knees again, he folds you in half, latching his mouth on your pussy again and burying his tongue in deep. He scooped out whatever cum was left on his tongue before spitting it on your clit, taking one hand and rubbing the cum in circles over it with his thumb. He shuffled closer, cock hard again.
With the last bit of strength and sanity you could muster, you reached for it, feeling the girth in your hand and how you almost couldn't close it properly around him. You stroked it, still slick with your cum, heavy and hard. It was crazy to you that you had been able to fit all of it in you, and you were all too willingly about to do it again.
You aligned it with your entrance, biting your lips as you tried to get him to enter you again. Clearly, Jeon Jungkook had broken you not only in body, but in mind too.
He seemed to know it, too, following your direction and slowly pushing back into you. You realized how empty you had felt before, and how delicious it felt to be full again.
"Gonna stretch you out so you can only take my cock," he muttered to himself, sliding in further and further, the glide much easier than the first attempt. "Gonna shape this pussy to remember my cock. No one will be able to satisfy you anymore. Not your vibrator, not your small, useless fingers. No one."
You knew every word he said was the truth, wrapping your legs around him to pull him in until his pelvis was flush against yours, balls pressing against your ass, all of his cum pushed out of you and only adding to the slick slide of him as bottomed out.
His fingers entangled with yours, pinning your hands over your head as he pulled his hips back, thrusting into you slowly at first. "Tell me you're mine," he demanded, leaning down so your lips would barely touch, forcing you to share the same breath. His eyes locked with yours, staring intensely as he studied the dreamy, fucked out gaze in yours. "Say it. No one can get in this pussy as deep as I can. No one can satisfy you like me."
You nodded. "I'm yours. H-Have been for a while."
"Always have," he grunted, eyes twisting shut as he started to get rougher with his pounding. His hands squeezed yours almost painfully. "You were always fucking mine. You're gonna come to me from now on. Every time this pussy gets wet, every time you have some dirty fucking dream about me, you're going to tell me, got it?"
Your legs squeezed around him tighter, feeling his pelvis grind against your clit, the poor, overstimulated nub practically screaming from the pain. "Yes!"
"Every time you give me that bitchy little attitude and start shit for no reason, I'm gonna fuck it out of you." He growled out the words, kissing you again, letting you feel the hum emanating from his throat. He hammered against your cervix, hard enough for you to worry it would feel bruised. You knew you were going to be sore as shit come morning, perhaps the entire week. "Gonna fuck the shit out of you just the way you want, and you're gonna take it like a good girl."
You moaned against his lips, squeezing his fingers back, his thrusts heavy as his balls roughly slammed against your ass, the sound of skin against skin and your wet pussy swallowing him completely filling the room. He breathed heavily against you, head dipping down to bite into your shoulder, hard enough to leave marks.
"My slut," he rasped. "Mine."
Your pussy clenched around him as you came, and for the second time he unloaded inside you, your spasming cunt milking whatever was left of him into you. He groaned, mouth crashing to yours as his cock twitched inside you, pumping out his thick and heavy load, right against your cervix, making sure you took all of it. Your fingers tangled together with his, and you moaned one final time against his tongue.
The two of you stayed like that for a moment, bodies intertwined, sweaty skin pressed against each other as you looked into each other's eyes, trying to catch your breath.
Jeon Jungkook had somehow managed to excel even your wildest fantasies, railing the absolute shit out of you, and you loved every second. You'd never be able to forget this, never live it down. It was something neither of you would be able to ignore, ever.
He finally pulled his body weight off of you, no longer crushing you and giving you more room to breathe. You missed his warmth already, but his hands stayed secured in your own, and his softening cock was still buried inside of you.
His eyes searched yours, as though he were trying to see if you regretted it.Â
Finally, he spoke.
"You can yell at me all you want. Scream at me after this, bitch, I don't care," he said. "But I'm not letting you go. Never. You're stuck with me forever, got that?"
You swallowed, your heartbeat practically leaping out of your chest.
He bit his lip, eyes soft. "Is that ok now?"
You had been stuck with Jungkook your entire life. He was the one thing you had never been able to escape.
And for the first time you no longer wanted to.
You nodded, "I'd like that."
His deceitfully innocent bunny grin spread on his face, and he glanced over to the Calc 2 book that had been thrown aside. Reaching for it, he licked his lips.
âI guess itâs time to fulfill these requests, then.â
life was supposed to go forward the way you had always been told.
find someone, fall in love, get married, have kids.
that was the formula - the routine of every day life that you, yourself, had agreed to. it was supposed to be easy and carefree, the type of love that felt natural and yet definite. it was supposed to be certain.
jeon jungkook.
the love of your life. no one, nothing, could compare to him; the one constant in your life since you were no older than five. two years older than you, he had been the object of your infatuations even then, and though you both harboured a crush on one another as you grew up, it was only when you were 14 that you both actually pursued something.
you both came from broken homes, with your parents entangled in the world of drugs and abuse, his absent more times than present. you had each other though, and that was all either of you had ever really needed - that much had been true for years. it didnât take long to fall in love with him, not when he treated you like blooming flowers in the first touch of spring; you were more than just his girl. you were his y/n.
no one blinked when he proposed, everyone half expecting it, and neither of you had wanted to wait to plan a lavish wedding when you were both the only constants in each otherâs lives. and so, with cheap rings, a random dress you had found at the bottom of your wardrobe and his scuffed shoes - you had become husband and wife.
jungkook was the best partner you could have ever asked for. money was tight in the beginning as he threw himself into his job, making sure he had enough to spoil you rotten even if that meant coming home exhausted. it killed you to see him working so hard, but he never complained, not even once. it was done in the pursuit of his sweet wife, and therefore just.
he quickly began climbing the ranks, his intelligence unmatched, his speed and efficiency making him a force to be reckoned with. in a mere seven years, he had managed to go from the lowest ranking worker in the company right to head office, before formally being announced as ceo.
it was unheard of. people like him, people like you, they didnât live like this. it felt like over night your entire life had changed, as the tiny, one bed apartment transformed into a penthouse suite in your cityâs most reputable area, your beaten down car now more lavish than you could ever dream of. your clothes - silks, linens and luxurious patterns. you were a changed woman, all at the hands of your husband.
that was when the cracks had began to form.
the late nights began, jungkook holed up in his office for far longer than anyone else at the company, stacks of paper all around as he tried to crack numbers before the next day could bring its own workload. you didnât mind at first, more so worried over anything else.
you packed late dinners, going up to his office and eating them with him just to keep him company, to ground him which he needed more than you could ever realise. he would sit you on his lap as he worked, all whilst you napped peacefully on his shoulder as though this was perfectly normal.
the first few months, it worked. after that, it could no longer hide the gaping hole that had begun to appear.
missed dinners. missed dates. jungkook showing up at two in the morning despite everyone else going home at five in the afternoon - this wasnât normal. wasnât healthy. the amount of arguments that were being caused due to his workaholic nature was alarming, especially considering neither of you had ever even raised your voices to one another prior to this.
your heart was getting heavier and heavier.
not because you doubted his love for you - that wasnât even a question in your mind, that much was certain. if anything, jungkook loved you too much, entirely and wholly, with every single decision made in his life somehow tracing back to you in one way or another. whether it was purchasing things, buying them with the intent of impressing you, making you happy or smile. every opportunity, every signed contract, every bastard fucking meeting that he could feel so deeply in his bones was done with the intention of giving you a life so soft you would never experience hardship again.
that was where the problem lay.
jungkook didnât know how to love in a way that could nurture your relationship through this, and so, he did the only thing he could. he sacrificed.
slowly, painfully, the realisation that somewhere between the neglect, the late nights and unanswered phone calls, your husband had stopped being your husband at all. he had become a mere ghost in your shared home.
the night you had made your decision was one that felt imprinted in your memory.
it was past midnight, the harsh light of your phone reminding you with each passing moment. the rain was harsh too, with it being the middle of autumn, causing you to curl deeper into the covers on your bed but it did nothing to chase the cold away. dinner had long gone cold downstairs, with your housekeeper giving you a long, sad look before leaving to her own home, patting you on the shoulder in comfort.
your heart hurt so fucking much.
your phone was untouched, with messages sent hours prior despite the lack of response.
âwhere are you?â
âare you coming home tonight?â
âjungkook, you promised.â
âi miss you.â
you felt pathetic. humiliation ran up and down your veins at the thought of having to beg for a morsel of attention from your husband, but what else were you supposed to do? what else could you do? loneliness had a tendency to do that to people.
the sound of the front door finally opening had your eyes looking up, no longer staring into space, thinking. overthinking.
jungkook finally stumbled in, hours and hours late, shoulders tense and black coat half wet due to the rain outside. his phone had died hours ago, and his brain was a jumble of numbers and stakeholders, still muttering under his breath over something one of his colleagues had said. he was exhaustion personified.
âbaby.â he exhaled deeply upon the sight of you still up.
1:47am.
you stared at him, unable to focus on anything in particular as your reddened eyes somehow glinted in the moonlit essence of the room. his heart ached.
âyou missed it again.â you whispered, barely audible.
another dinner sat cold. jungkook had noticed it on his way up, muttering a small fuck under his breath, but seeing you now? something had changed, something was different and the sight scared him to death.
âi know, i..â
âyou said youâd be home for six.â
âi know baby, iâm so sorry, we had an emergency shareholders meeting and it was just..fuck.â
âitâs always an emergency.â you muttered bitterly.
the silence that followed felt suffocating to you both.
he carefully placed his things at the door before approaching you slowly, as though you were a wounded fawn struck by an arrow from his own back - it was his fault. he knew that, he could see it.
âiâm trying.â he whispered softly, as he crouched to meet your eyes.
that was the worst thing of all - of course he was trying. you knew he was, you could see it in every single thing he did but that was the part that made it so much more painful. it was unbearable.
tears burned harshly behind your eyes, lip openly trembling as you stared at the only man to have ever felt your affection, the love of your life. the same man that would set himself on fire just to keep you warm, who had done this all for you - even you knew that but, the pain. you werenât sure when loving him had started to hurt this badly.
âi donât need..i donât want any of this, jungkook.â you corrected as your voice cracked, hands gesturing to the too large room. âdonât care about penthouses or cars, or money..â
âitâs not about that.â
âthen what is it about?â you cried, months and months of neglect finally collapsing all at once. âbecause iâm losing you anyway.â
the devastation that appeared on his face would have floored you on any other occasion, but the horrible feeling that had taken over was consuming you from the inside out. you couldnât rid yourself of your thoughts, the looming decision that had grown and grown and grown, so much so that it felt bigger than you in both mind and body. you couldnât stop the tears even if you wanted to.
âi feel so lonely.â you admitted honestly, a broken sob leaving your lips. âyouâre all i have..all iâve ever had and i feel lonely.â
the words physically wounded him as he felt his own tears begin to form, a horrible realisation fluttering through his body - this wasnât fixable. he could see it now, the utter pain in your eyes, the way your body shook as you cried, and though he was crouched in front of you, arms wrapping around you; it wasnât enough.
âiâll fix this. iâll fix this, fuck. y/n..â he shook, holding you so tightly, his heart beating out of his chest. âgive me time. give me a chance. give me something, give me anything.â
you only cried harder at his words, collapsing entirely as the sobs racked through your body violently. you knew he meant it, knew he meant every single word, and you genuinely believed it too but you were tired.
so, so tired.
you knew that the love between you, no matter how deep, could not survive on patched up apologies and promises no longer.
the separation happened three weeks later.
perhaps that was too cruel of you - you should have given him more time, more chances, another opportunity to prove himself to you so he could actually begin repairing something that had already long collapsed before he had ever realised the damage. staying felt too painful, as though you were prodding delicate skin with a million sharpened blades. for once in your entire existence, you chose yourself.
you hated yourself for it.
you could no longer survive off of the memories of who your husband had once been, the once sweet teenage boy who slept on the streets with you just so youâd feel safe from the grasps of your parents. the man who had ran home to tell you about his promotion, who then sobbed in your arms at the mere prospect of getting to give you the life you deserved. oh, how each and every fibre of your being yearned for him, how it knew him by breath alone and yet it wasnât enough. nothing could possibly hurt more.
packing your things nearly killed him. you remembered it vividly.
jungkook stood silently in the doorway of your shared bedroom, watching numbly, as though his soul had left his entire body as you packed up remnants of a life once shared with him. cardboard boxes were filled with your books, your makeup, your silly trinkets you had acquired together - the sight of you crying as you packed your wedding album so delicately was enough to have him bite back his own sob, shaking his head at the reality of the situation.
he hadnât stopped you. it was the worst part.
jungkook was intimidating to most; hardened by his life experiences and the struggle he had been raised in, his only priority for the past decade being you. you didnât like to go into his work, knowing he was quite literally a different person there - efficient, yes, but also ruthless. and yet, he stood, watching you as though his eyes couldnât comprehend the scene in front of him, tears wiped harshly from his face in fear that it would only upset you more.
even in moments like this, he put you first.
his hands sat caged on either side of him, as you sobbed, and sobbed and sobbed. he wanted nothing more than to pick you up, cradle you, cherish you the way he so desperately wanted but in his love for you came your happiness. he was a man devoted to you, and he couldnât cage you somewhere you no longer felt happy staying - he loved you too much to ever do that.
the divorce proceedings were somehow so much worse.
the media frenzy surrounding jeon jungkook, the elusive ceo who was known for his mysterious persona and dark eyes, was quite literally unbearable. the sudden separation exploded all over the tabloids and the internet, with headlines appearing faster than either of you could keep up with. the hate was too much, to which jungkook stepped in to silence everyone behind the scenes, throwing an insane amount of money at journalists to keep your name out of their filthy mouths. wife or not, you were one half of him and heâd be damned if you were spoken of in anyway that wasnât praiseworthy.
you couldnât even look at him during the hearings.
god, you tried. you wanted to, managing to sneak little glances where you caught him already staring at you, despair all over his face, but you couldnât handle it, tears streaming out of your eyes almost immediately. he knew you loved him. he could see it, clear as day.
he looked sick, as though he hadnât eaten for weeks, the mere sight of you enough to sustain him until the next meeting, where your feet lightly brushed against one another underneath the table in a subconscious way.
he barely spoke, only choosing to actually speak when he was asked a question, but other than that, he spent his time in the meetings staring at you longingly. heâd whisper a soft âdonât cryâ whenever heâd see you tear up, your lip quivering each time you snuck a glance over, despite knowing it was breaking you.
he signed everything over to you immediately. his lawyers had practically choked, eyes wide as he silenced them almost harshly for even suggesting anything otherwise, your own eyebrows pulling together as you tried to reject. you didnât want his money, you didnât want what he had worked so hard for.
the penthouse, the cars, the accounts. every. fucking. thing.
âjungkook..â you had whispered through tears at the table, addressing him for the first time in so long. âi donât want any of this, itâs yours. youâve worked so hard.â
hearing you was enough to provide the energy he had been lacking, the very blood in his bloodstream pumping harder as he shook his head at you, offended.
âi got those things for you. it never belonged to me..was always yours.â he whispered back, causing you to look down with another choked sob.
it was the final hearing that truly cemented the empty hole inside of you.
your hands shook violently, so much so that you were unable to pick up your pen and sign away your marriage, the one thing you needed to do to finally let him go. everyone in the room frowned as they watched you, face flooded with tears as your digits simply refused, as though your body rejected the notion as being entirely unnatural. they all felt pity for you, for both of you - you both were clearly in love, and they couldnât understand the gravity of the situation between you.
jungkook had stood from his side of the table, walking over to you until his hand had softly encapsulated your own, your quiet sobs only growing harsher at the feel of the one person you had been craving for so long. he held it, guiding you to your own, helping you write your name on the dotted line despite every part of his body aching.
ex-husband.
the thought should have killed you.
once it was signed, he held onto your hand, too scared to let go as the documents were taken, your lawyers and his slowly leaving the room, leaving you be. you should have let go, should have pushed him away as he no longer had any tie to you - you werenât married, you werenât together. alas, the thought felt sacrilegious.
instead, he knelt, knees hitting the hardened floor below you as your red eyes met his properly. entirely.
âiâll fix this.â he promised you, voice no longer shaking, as you could hear the depth of his promise to you. âi donât care how long it takes, baby, but youâll come back to me. iâll come back to you better, iâll be worthy. i promise you, y/n.â he whispered.
another sob climbed up your throat, mean and harsh, as your body collapsed against the chair you were sat in, your emotion taking a complete hold over you.
because even then, after everything, you knew his words to be true. you knew home would be waiting.
â
eight months had passed now, and soon came the first touch of summer. the bleak sky had become brighter, clouds hibernating and birds chirping as the world became warmer, accommodating for the transition into what most would describe as a joyous time. unfortunately for you, your body was still recovering from what could only be described as the most traumatic stage of your life thus far.
everything felt unnatural and wrong - you were trying to keep up despite it moving a million miles around you.
even after all this time, your stomach still dropped whenever youâd see anything that referred to him as your ex husband, as though your mind and heart needed a moment to catch up. how could jungkook ever simply become an ex anything to you?
he had existed in your life for so long that removing him felt akin to ripping a vital organ out of your body, all whilst expected to function entirely normally. how could you? you suppose you were failing, really, with the way you moved through life out of necessity instead of want.
the tabloids loved him now more than ever. it was the paradox of tragedy, you assumed, as you knew how badly the world yearned for a broken hearted lover.
the youngest ceo in the countryâs history, a billionaire bachelor - the elusive businessman was on the top of every social hierarchy, whilst people spoke about you in hushed whispers. the only woman to have ever gotten away. who were you? why did you leave? why did he leave you with so much?
he had become so much colder after the divorce, and people picked up on it like rats with forgotten food.
the media had always labelled him as an intimidating man, but now, there was no way of denying it. there was something unsettling about the pictures that were being papped of him, your hungry eyes taking him in top to bottom, nibbling your lip - he looked so different. broad shoulders remained the same, but he seemed bigger, no doubt taking out his pain in the gym. it was the look in his eyes, however, that had your stomach in knots.
he looked dead whilst alive.
jeon jungkook was heartbroken, and the world knew it clear as day.
he had dealt with it the only way he knew how - by burying himself six feet deep into his work, knowing he had nothing to come home to, often times sleeping in his office just so he could ignore the silence of his house.
meanwhile, you had spent the last eight months trying to learn how to exist without him.
the humiliation at first was all you were reminded of, as you realised how deeply you had intertwined into him and vice versa. the silence in your once shared penthouse was so unbearable that you had moved into a tiny two bedroom apartment, using the spare as a storage unit for all of your books. on your nightstand still sat a picture of you both, as you secretly cried over it most nights. you couldnât even sleep unless you wore one of his hoodies, despite his scent having washed off months ago - it was the comfort of knowing you still had a part of your marriage with you.
you missed him in every small, stupid, awful way imaginable.
the feeling of his hand, heavy and strong, on your thigh as he drove you around. the way he would cage you into any surface he could find just to smother you in kisses, or even the way he would whisper into your ear stupid jokes that had you giggling too loudly for the world to hear.
you missed your husband. you missed jungkook.
everyday you battled with the regret of your choice, especially once youâd see the way his under-eyes had sunken with the lack of sleep and yet you couldnât bring yourself to admit it out loud. you couldnât live that way again, not with the neglect - not with your past trauma from your parents.
jungkook knew the gravity of his actions, knew you needed to heal and reason with them before he could come back to you but fuck, it hurt so bad to wait.
sometimes, during your weaker moments, you found yourself searching him into your phone in the dead of night, breathing out an audible sigh of relief at the confirmation he was still openly single. it was pathetic, that much you knew, but it was selfish beyond anything else. so cruel to want the man you left to be alone, simply because he still belonged to you.
you had attempted to rebuild your life slowly, carefully piecing together fragments of yourself that existed before all of this had happened. your days were quieter now, so much lonelier but it was enough to keep your mind from spiralling every second of every waking day.
some habits, however, refused to die.
his contact remained as the only favourited number in your phone, as you spent all of your time rereading old messages, despite it ending in tears. if only you knew he too did the same, with his photo album on his phone his most used app as he stared at you nightly, often falling asleep with your picture shining brightly on his screen.
you still loved him. he loved you even more.
that could never change.
-
the first flowers came on a random tuesday.
you had just experienced one of the worst days youâd had in a while, with a final meeting with one of your clients going to shit after you realised hours of work and designs had somehow corrupted, and then deleted. by the time you had returned home, you were sure the world had seen your teary state, your body heavier than usual.
as you searched your bag for your keys, your eyes peered up, noticing them.
your breath caught.
sitting neatly outside your apartment door. a bouquet, large but elegant - white gardenias. the flowers you had held at not only your wedding, but the ones jungkook would buy you for your anniversary each year.
your flowers.
your chest ached so violently you found yourself gasping for air as your legs gave out below you. you slid down the wall, fingers brushing against the delicate petals as you looked for a note, only to realise there wasnât one. you didnât need to see who they were from, only one person knew you well enough and your heart felt like it had been split into two as you took them in.
it wasnât your anniversary, wasnât any special kind of occasion, and yet here they were. bright, promising, sweet.
your vision blurred with heavy tears as the painful feeling in your body grew, throat tightening with emotion before reaching out and taking a hold of them, breathing the flowers in openly.
the scent alone was enough to destroy you.
he was everywhere, all of the time - even now. especially now.
the flowers had become a norm, a pattern that was only recognisable to you, and completely deniable to any other person looking in. you were smarter than you looked and you knew what was happening, and yet you couldnât bring yourself to call it out.
your favourite restaurant somehow managing to accommodate you always despite the line or packed out reservations list, or the paparazzi that often bullied you for your attention outside of your home mysteriously disappearing. even your car, that you had dented slightly, appeared in perfect condition as you walked down to go to work one morning, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
your chest bloomed with realisation.
jungkook.
he never appeared himself, no. never. it was unsettling really, the reminder that he was powerful and could have things done with a flick of his wrist - he was sure to never make you privy to it, so youâd always feel like he was the same boy you had met all those years ago. now? he had every intention of showing you the empire he had built for you and you alone. he lingered around you and your life like a floating ghost, invisible but permanent. you truly couldnât get rid of him even if you tried.
three weeks later is when you felt yourself reaching breaking point.
for the first time in months, you were finally leaving the house to actually do something for fun. your best friend, yejin, whoâs husband yoongi was ironically jungkookâs best friend, had forced you to come out for a drink. nothing intense, merely a nice bar where the drinks were smooth and the company was good, with slow jazz playing in the back.
exhaustion was heavy in your bones but you listened, doing your best to make yourself look nice despite how dead you felt inside. a little skirt that felt too short and a top that perhaps plunged too low - yejin had deemed you utterly perfect.
sat at the bar, you sipped your drink, wincing lightly as she yapped away about something her coworker had said. you appreciated how she refused to bring jungkook up, knowing that she couldnât breach the topic unless you were the one to bring it up yourself. you hated how badly you wanted to, how desperate you were to find out how he was doing.
she filled the air constantly, like she was terrified of what would happen if your mind caught up to the reality of the situation, instead filling it with nonsense to occupy your demanding thoughts.
you let her.
you even found yourself laughing, the feeling and sound so startling that it reduced you to silence for a full minute afterwards as you welcomed the feeling of actual joy for the first time in so long.
you almost didnât notice the shift in your phone, the slight light radiating from beneath as you had turned it onto its screen earlier in the evening. she, however, paused mid sentence, eyes dropping down to let you know someone was ringing.
nothing could have prepared you for the sight of his name on the screen.
the name, âkookieâ with a large, red heart adorned your phone as humiliation rummaged through you at the realisation you had never even bothered to change his name, the concept too painful to come to terms with. however, yejin all but gasped as she turned to you, eyes widened with an almost excitement.
âanswer it.â she encouraged, hand on your back. âiâll watch your drink.â
you werenât sure what to say, as you nodded, staring down at the screen before shakily sliding off of your seat and heading towards the back entrance, where a smokers area sat empty. your hands shook as you cupped the phone to your chest, taking a seat before looking down at it once more.
he was calling you.
jungkook was fucking calling you.
before you could overthink, you swiped, answering it.
the phone felt hot against your ear, a reminder of what was currently happening as your heart began beating harder than it had in months, your hands shaking. for a second, neither of you spoke.
you could hear faint movement on his end, a shuffling of some sorts before he completely stilled, as though he had pushed everything he was doing to a side at the realisation you had actually answered.
âhi.â
god. your eyes squeezed shut tight almost immediately.
there he was - your jungkook. not the ceo extraordinaire that was plastered on every publication you could find, with dead eyes and a sharp expression. no, this was him. jungkook. your jungkook.
the sound alone nearly brought you to tears. you felt so pathetic.
âhi.â you whispered back, voice cracking.
silence settled again, but not awkwardly. you didnât think an awkward silence was capable of existing between you, not when your bodies were so intertwined and so aware of one another. the distance between you was unnatural, neither of your minds able to comprehend an eight month hiatus enough to understand that this phone call alone shouldnât have been happening.
he exhaled slowly, and your shoulders gently relaxed, your eyes closing momentarily as you imagined him. no doubt still at work, in a suit unbuttoned at the shirt, his tie long forgotten. his tattooed hand running through his hair, ruffling it the way you always would.
âyou answered.â he broke you out of your thoughts.
your chest tightened painfully at the sheer disbelief in his tone.
âyou called.â
a faint huff of amusement left him then, causing you to blink back any emotion that was building in your eyes. it eased you.
âyeah.â he breathed out.
another pause.
you felt so suddenly aware of yourself - your hand reached out to smooth down your hair, adjust your top and skirt, despite knowing he couldnât see you. it was subconscious, as though the thought of him alone was enough to undo you, but his voice? hearing it after so long, directed at you, for you. yours. it was enough to have you soothed for months.
before you could spiral in your thoughts, he spoke again.
âwhere are you?â
âout with yejin.â
âmm.â you shivered at his hum. you had no idea he was so undone at the sound of you too. âa bar?â
âyeah.â
âyou drinking?â
you rolled your eyes, tongue poking your cheek at his curiosity. some things truly had never changed.
âwhy?â you asked, and you could almost hear his grin on the other end. âcanât i ask?â
his tone, smooth. familiar. fuck, it did things to you, and you could feel your thighs pressing together just listening to him. secretly, your favourite part of jungkook was how possessive he had always been, and even in moments like this where he hid it under a layer of calmness, you could recognise it instantly.
it reminded you of when heâd ask you whether you had eaten, just before pulling you into his lap, lips attacking the side of your neck hungrily or when heâd tell you to take your medicine, with a slow âbabyâ and kisses planted to your forehead and cheeks.
âone drink.â you revealed, with a nibble to your lip.
you had no idea that he too was a fucking mess.
jungkook was indeed in his office, with his legs spread, suit jacket and tie somewhere, his shirt unbuttoned a little as he too drank. a cup of whiskey in his hand, his hair a mess as he scoured over your instagram for the millionth time just that day. neither of you were ones to post much, especially considering your accounts were private with only a few people, but he stalked you daily in hopes of a glimpse of you. could you blame him? he was utterly, devotedly in love with you.
a measly divorce couldnât stop that.
seeing yejinâs story, with your low cut top, and your big eyes showing a sign of life for the first time in months made his heart bloom. it had his cock straining, again, just looking at you, eyes hungrily looking over every inch of you and your soft smile. god, how he had missed it.
he had given you your time. respected your wishes, allowed you eight months of this but enough was enough. the flowers were just the beginning, marking his space back in your life through a promise he had every intention of upholding. he had told you directly he was going to fix this, and you, his sweet, sweet girl had believed him.
he would never let you down again.
âyou having fun?â
âwhy do you wanna know every single detail?â you asked, tone a little harsher than intended but you couldnât help yourself. this was an ambush on your senses.
he huffed once more, the amusement enough to disarm you.
âbecause i miss you.â
the words left him so easily that the breath in your lungs completely dissipated, leaving you a statued mess. no hesitation, no shame - pure, devastating honesty.
âyou canât say that, jungkook.â you weakly combatted, the intake of breath on his side of the phone at the sound of his name leaving your mouth enough of an answer for you.
âwhy not? i canât miss my wife?â he scoffed lightly at you.
you blubbered for a moment. âi-i am not..iâm not your wife!â
âokay.â he hummed once more.
there was a quiet clink on his end, no doubt picking his drink up and taking a big gulp after abandoning it the second you answered. neither of you spoke for a few more moments, silence now becoming a running theme between you on the call, and yet it was still void of the awkwardness youâd find anywhere else. it was awful how familiar it felt. how comfortable and safe.
your fingers played with the hem of your skirt nervously, unsure if you had been too brash - he was hurting too after all.
âis that top new?â
your breath caught.
â..what?â
jungkook stayed quiet for an extra beat. âyour top. havenât seen that one before.â
heat flooded your cheeks, chest and neck before you could even respond, your lips bitten down as you inhaled shakily.
âhow do you know that?â you were ignoring the way your pulse was hammering against your body, trying to feign an air of nonchalance.
at that, he couldnât help the small grin. âsaw you on yejinâs story.â he murmured, quieter now. âlook so good. love when you wear pink, baby.â
it wasnât even the words he had chosen, but more so the way he was saying them. so calm, so certain, so casual as if he wasnât calling his ex wife baby over a bit of cleavage that was never really meant for his eyes - your blush spreading all over you now.
âjungkook..â you breathed out, shakily.
âwhat?â he asked innocently, and you could really hear the smile in his voice now. âam i wrong?â
you looked down at your top, nibbling away at your lip to hide the small smile that was beginning to form on your own face, something that you hadnât felt in a long, long time. your fingers brushed against your stomach, feeling the fabric before tucking a strand behind your hair.
âitâs new.â you admitted softly, heels shuffling slightly on the ground.
the sound he made in response was enough to ruin you. not a laugh, not quite a sigh - something pleased.
he hummed. âso pretty.â
your eyes squeezed shut, and jungkook could feel it. could see it as though you were right in front of him. you were never one to handle a compliment, always going pink and shyly looking away and god, he loved it so much. loved complimenting you in hopes that you would react just like that, just to see you get all flustered.
the feeling in your stomach..it felt so strange. the same one that had haunted you for the past eight months, an unbearable warmth that filled you from your toes to your head, something you craved so desperately from him and him alone. to be noticed, looked at, admired by jungkook was one thing but to be loved by him? it was joy in itself.
you could feel it.
no one had ever loved you quite like he had done, as though every single thing you were capable of was worthy of applause. it terrified you.
âyou canât do this.â your voice came out so much smaller than either of you had expected, changing the entire feel of the call instantly.
as a result, his own tone softened, as though he was dealing with something porcelain.
âdo what, baby?â
your heart physically ached.
âtalk to me..like nothing happened.â
you felt sick to your stomach, hands gripping your phone and stomach as your eyes shut tight. you wished you hadnât of said anything, not with the way the silence kissed the air in a way that felt anything but familiar - it hurt. painful in every single way.
for the first time since answering the phone, you could see jungkook properly. could hear him breathing sharply as though your words were both a reminder and an understanding that no matter what, things could never go back to what they once were.
the slight twitch in his cheek, the way his fingers would naturally tighten whenever he was overwhelmed with emotion like he didnât know where to put it, where to place it in his overworking mind. he had always loved so deeply, your jungkook; just didnât know where to put it, or how to show it.
when he finally spoke again, his voice was quieter. stripped bare for you, so you could feel him.
âi know what i did.â he admitted softly. âi know i fucked up, and that i failed you as a husband.â
your throat tightened.
outside, rainwater still lingered from earlier, a sickly humidity wrapped into every air particle around you. the scent of lingering cigarette smoke was heavy enough to ground you in that moment as you listened to jungkook speak words neither of you could truly handle hearing, despite how necessary they were. it just hurt so, so badly.
inside the bar, you could hear muffled laughter, people egging one another on for drinks as jazz boomed, your heart easing as you could hear yejinâs voice amongst the crowd, no doubt the life of the party there too.
âthen why are you acting like this?â you pathetically asked, lip jutting out in a teary pout. he could almost hear it on you. âyouâre talking to me like weâre still together.â
âyouâre still mine, y/n.â
your breath hitched violently.
âjungkook-â
âno,â he remained calm, a stark difference between you and him. âyou asked me a question, baby, so let me answer it properly.â
the nickname rolled off of his lips so naturally, instinctively, and you hated how easily your body curled closer, almost desperate to hear it whilst he stood in front of you. you had always been putty in his hands, so easily undone with a few pretty words but youâd held back for the past few months for the sake of your boundaries. hearing him so open, so honest - it was fucking you up all over again.
âi know weâre divorced,â he continued before you could interrupt him again. âi know..youâre not my wife anymore, and i know this is my fault. you left because of me and iâll live with that for the rest of my life.â
his voice cracked by the end of his statement.
âbut i wonât sit here and pretend like the last eight months have suddenly erased the past fifteen years of loving you.â
the words shattered you. your delicate, pathetic heart broke once more at his words at the confirmation of what you needed to hear so, so badly.
years of abandonment issues stemming from your parents and friends who had only ever toyed with you meant you had put your all into jungkook, who had only ever put every inch of himself back in - you were a partnership, a welcome duo that made sense to the both of you. watching him pull back, forget you, neglect and abandon your relationship no matter the reason was enough to trigger you in ways that no one could reason with.
it was an intimate form of violence that though was never intended, hurt more than anything he could have ever done to you.
he knew that. he was openly telling you he recognised his faults, his wrong doings - you knew that too. god, you knew him better than anyone alive, and you knew that by leaving him it was the only way for him to understand and see.
âyouâre making this so much harder, jungkook.â you whispered out through a flood of tears, your mascara and eyeliner smudging immediately under the slaughter of liquid.
âiâm sorry. iâm so, so sorry baby but i need you to hear me, okay? just..i need you to know iâm going to fix this. properly.â he breathed out, desperate now. âiâve been doing things right this time..gave you space, let you breathe, been working on myself and going to therapy. donât sleep at the office anymore, did at the start cause i didnât like coming home but iâm better now.â
therapy?
you knew he held so much trauma with his own parents, his own upbringing, too scared to ever even speak about it if it wasnât with you but to hear he had actually taken the steps to go forwards with something that put him directly out of his comfort zone was insanity to you. especially when his one and only concern had only ever been your own comfort, even at his expense.
his honesty made you burst out into quiet sobs - a noise he swore was harsh enough to kill him. he breathed out, cooing at you lightly as he shook his head despite you unable to see him, so pained.
jungkook recognised your pain immediately.
âyeah,â he muttered. âturns out working yourself to death because youâre afraid of losing everything after youâve had a shitty upbringing actually isnât normal behaviour. who knew?â
despite your heartbroken state, you let out a sincere watery laugh.
the sound hit him like a drug.
he went completely silent after hearing it, replaying it in the forefront of his mind. a greedy, gluttonous side of him climbing out of his very throat as he held it close to his soul, cherishing it - he was a starved man finally being fed.
âthere she is.â he breathed. âfuck..missed hearing your laugh.â
you hated how easily you were able to slip back into him.
âjungkook..â
âi mean it,â his tone deepened slightly - more certain, more intentional. âiâm not calling you tonight to confuse you, y/n. iâm not calling because iâm lonely..â
your fingers tightened around the phone once more. âthen, why?â
âbecause iâm getting you back.â
there was no hesitation in his voice, no wariness nor anything other than sheer determination. he sounded firm and a part of that thrilled you, whilst the other half sat scared of what this meant - you couldnât survive this again, losing him. what if you had changed? what if you werenât who he thought you were anymore?
âhey, stop it.â he shook his head, eyebrows furrowing. âitâs just me, y/n. itâs just me and you, okay?â
âbut what if we canât do it?â you asked through a teary sob, scuffing your heels on the hard ground. âwhat if iâm different and what if itâs too hard? i canât..i wonât survive it..â
silence once more.
âthen, we do it slowly.â he whispered, assured, soothing you. no hesitation whatsoever. âiâm not asking you to trust me overnight, baby. i know i fucked that up already.â
your lip trembled, tears streaming so fast you could hardly keep up.
âbut iâm here now.â
the words settled so deeply inside of you that it almost hurt. that was all you had wanted all along, was it not? a present husband, the same man that loved you without the frills of money and presents - you wanted jungkook. your jungkook.
you swallowed thickly, knowing it had taken so much of him to even say this to you, so confident as he knew you needed a rock at this moment despite also being emotionally devastated.
two whole minutes of silence stretched between you as you caught your breath, your tears still streaming but your sobs subsiding, allowing for sweet hiccups that he thought were the cutest thing he had ever heard. his mind swam, aching, knowing how needy you were after a cry. he wanted to bundle you up and hold you, kiss you until there were no more thoughts left in that pretty little head of yours, right until you were finally asleep and safe in his arms.
âare you still at work?â you asked softly, breaking the silence and pulling him out of his thoughts.
a small pause.
then, almost amused - âtechnically..â
âjungkook! itâs late..â
he laughed quietly under his breath, the sound warm enough to blanket you in it.
âfinished hours ago, iâve just been sat here.â
âdoing what?â
another pause. slightly charged.
âlooking at you.â he murmured.
heat rushed to your face immediately, wiping your under eyes. âwhat?â
âbeen stalking your instagram. yejin posted you like half an hour ago too, so..â his voice dropped lower, smoother. more intimate. âhavenât really thought about doing anything since.â
your thighs pushed together involuntarily at the confession, cheeks hinted even darker.
god.
âjungkook.â you chastised with a little sniffle.
âpink was a bad choice, baby.â he grunted slightly. âyou know that colour drives me fucking insane on you.â
your eyes squeezed shut. there he was.
not the cold, mysterious ceo that had the world intrigued, nor the tall, hefty man that had most people cowering away as he walked past. no, this was your husband - flirty, affectionate and completely and utterly obsessed with you.
âyouâre so ridiculous.â you shook your head through a hiccup, biting back the pathetic small smile that was about to form.
âyeah?â he hummed through a small laugh. âstill answered the phone.â
the smile in his voice only had yours growing larger, a small laugh muffled by the back of your hand.
you could hear him moving around now, keys jingling lightly before the sound of a car door opening had your ears peaking up.
âwait,â your eyebrows raised. âare you leaving?â
âmhm.â
âwhere are you going?â
jungkook grinned. it was your turn to be curious.
âhome.â
your smile dropped slightly. home.. that used to be a word that was synonymous with you. your chest ached all over again.
âcouldnât go back there without hearing your voice first.â he admitted quietly.
silence swallowed you whole. the vulnerability in his voice felt far more dangerous than any of the tears you had shed tonight, your fingers continuing to shake around the phone at the mere sound of it. before you could think of a response, he spoke again.
âthereâs a gala next friday.â
your stomach tightened as you leaned your head against the wall, already understanding the direction of the conversation.
âjungkook..â
âcome with me.â
no hesitation. no uncertainty.
firm, assured, confident. like there had never even been another concept, or thought in his brain - you were the first and only option.
âi donât think thatâs a good idea..â
âprobably not.â
the honesty startled a laugh out of you - a real one. on the other side of the phone, jungkook sat in his car, eyes closed, breathing deeply at the sweet sound like he was memorising it. treasuring it so he could replay it over and over and over later when he laid in your once shared bed alone.
âfuck,â he breathed. âyou have no idea how much iâve missed that.â
your eyes burned once more.
âbaby,â his tone gentled again, using the pet name you loved so much. âjust one night. me and you.â
you wanted to scream, wanted to pull at your hair and jump all at the same time. of course you wanted to say yes, what more could you need? your ex husband so openly telling you he wanted to pursue you with every inch of his body, until he was nothing but yours to mould and shape.
âiâll think about it.â you replied instead, nibbling away at your lip.
the grin in his voice was immediate.
âthatâs my girl.â
â
you couldnât breathe.
both physically and emotionally, you found difficulty in inhaling air as you looked at yourself in the mirror, yejin somewhere in the room finding accessories for you to wear all whilst you blinked rapidly.
the dress, although beautiful, felt too tight.
your hands shook on either side of you as she approached you, holding up a delicate diamond necklace you recognised as an anniversary gift jungkook had gotten you but never quite found the chance to wear. your eyes were unfocused as she clasped it onto your neck, watching the way it fell so softly against soft skin, as though it had been curated for you and you alone.
âyou need to breathe, y/n.â she suddenly murmured behind you, resting her chin on your shoulder as you both stared at you in the mirror.
pale pink satin - not bright in anyway, but a sweet kiss of your favourite colour adorned your body in floor length, tight fitting dress. you were the embodiment of elegance as the fabric draped over your curves, all whilst cinching perfectly at your waist, allowing for a pretty silhouette. not only did you look the part for a charity gala, you had exceeded any expectation anyone would ever have for you thanks to your best friendâs styling.
âdress is tight.â you simply whispered back, hardly recognising yourself.
your makeup matched your dress. glowy and pink with soft blush dusted onto your cheeks, glossy lips puckered and sweet. your hair fell in waves and for the first time in a very long time, you felt utterly beautiful.
the problem, however, was in the circumstance itself.
you were about to see jungkook for the first time since you had officially walked away from your marriage and the thought had kept you up all week. you werenât sure what you were thinking actually saying yes to his invitation, calling him to tell you would come only for him to audibly huff out of joy. he was like a child in a candy shop but you couldnât help but wonder if he harboured the same anxiety.
it was heavy in your stomach as you stared at yourself. pink was your favourite colour, and he loved it on you. did you look pretty enough? all eyes would be on you both tonight, given the nature of your relationship and the almost celebrity like status that had been awarded to the two of you.
all in all, it was his face that had you nibbling your bottom lip in thought. there wasnât a night where you left his name unsearched in your internet browser, desperate to see what he looked like in that current moment but seeing him in purpose was a whole different playing field.
you loved him in suits - a fitting joy that was awarded to you constantly given his occupation. the way his shoulders would fill out the material so nicely, the way his shirt would stretch over his chest and the way darker colours only brought out the darkness in his eyes - it was your personal kryptonite. you werenât sure how you were supposed to think, behave even, once you caught got sight of him.
âhey, y/n, look at me.â yejin pulled you out of your thoughts, soft hands pulling at your jaw. âitâs just jungkook. you know him better than anyone, okay? youâre all good.â
you nodded, though you continued to blink at her rapidly. âsâjust been so long and..i donât know..iâm scared. is that weird?â
she offered a sad smile. âitâs been eight months of healing, babe. that love doesnât just go away and from what you told me, this is a step in the right direction. just gotta let him in.â
before you could respond, the sound of the doorbell blared through the apartment, making you look up to where the door sat on the other side. if you thought your heart had been beating fast before, you were sure you were on the edge of passing out now as yejin mumbled a quick âthatâll be himâ beside you.
oh god. oh god. oh god.
the dress felt too tight around your ribs.
your hands smoothed down the satin again despite having done it what felt like a million times already, fingers tips trembling over expensive fabric as your breathing came out shallow. you hated this - hated the fear of it all when it was jungkook on the other side of the door. your jungkook.
eight months. eight whole months and your body still knew him better than your mind was ready to let on.
ây/n.â yejin practically cooed at you, assuring you with a hand on your back. âbreathe.â
you nodded quickly, though it went in one ear and out the other.
the intercom buzzed again, impatient time.
ironically, it was this that had your shoulders slumping softly, your shortness of breath slowly soothing as you realised the familiarity of the situation. of course jungkook would buzz twice - it was a telltale sign of his own anxiety, something you could recognise from a mile away. knocking twice, calling your name twice, checking the front door before bed twice.
it was just jungkook.
âokay.â you whispered to yourself.
you turned, more determined now you knew he was in the same state as you, as your heels clicked on the floor of your much smaller apartment, the noise loud enough for him to hear from the outside. each step felt heavier the closer you got, but there sat an anticipation in you that had you almost desperate to see him.
your hand finally wrapped around the handle before you opened the door.
and there he was.
god.
for a moment, your brain completely malfunctioned.
jungkook stood in your hallway beneath the almost dingy apartment lighting, one hand wrapped around a large bouquet of flowers you recognised to be the ones he had been gifting you with continuously for the past few weeks, and every anniversary. white gardenias.
your eyes fell onto them immediately with a strangled gasp, all whilst taking him in, your heart beating out of your chest as you felt almost faint at the sight of him.
a black suit.
the material stretched perfectly across his too broad shoulders and narrow waist, expensive to the eye as you could tell it had been tailored to fit him exactly. the contrast between the white shirt underneath was utterly delicious, and memories of pulling open buttons under heated exchanges flooded your eyes.
his hair was styled almost messily which you immediately recognised as his hands having ran through them, no doubt due to his anxiety - you wanted to pull at his locks, wanted to feel them against your fingers.
it was his face, however, that hurt to look at.
he looked healthier than most of the pictures you had seen over the span of the past few months, with warm in his cheeks, a slight dazed look in his eyes. still tired, with purple underneath his eyes indicating his lack of sleep, still carrying traces of heartbreak you knew you had placed there.
god.
jungkook looked every bit of the man you were in love with.
and here he stood, staring at you like he had just seen heaven open up right in front of him.
neither of you could look away from one another, as his eyes dragged over you slowly, inch by inch. your hair, your neckline that dipped lower than he was used to seeing, your manicure, your beautiful face. jungkook couldnât fathom that you had once belonged to him, the pain of the past eight months surfacing as it gripped him by the throat like a vice - he had lost you?
you watched his throat bob.
his eyes met yours, the first time in what felt like a lifetime, and neither of you really knew what to do. how was it that the man you had known most of your life, the one constant, felt like a stranger in that moment? it was like you were discovering him again, an opportunity to relearn him presented to you and you took it with both hands.
he let out a shaking breath, one that had your cheeks flushing as he extended his arm, presenting the large bouquet for you.
âyou look beautiful.â he whispered, voice struggling almost as you continued to watch his adamâs apple almost entranced.
with a shy thank you, you held them close to your chest, breathing in the familiar scent that brought you so much comfort.
your chest had eased now you were finally looking at him, now that he was actually in your space - the worst was over. you almost felt ridiculous for being worried about seeing him when it was just jungkook. eight months couldnât erase that familiarity.
the hallway suddenly felt too small. too warm, too intimate; you felt like you were being caved in by his mere presence and for a moment you wondered if you needed breath at all.
you simply stood there, clutching the flowers delicately to your chest as though they meant something so much more than what anyone else could assume all whilst jungkook looked at you like you were the first beautiful thing he had seen in months.
his eyes couldnât leave your face.
it should have made you uncomfortable, the intensity of his stare, but your body reacted the way it had always done when you were near him. you were inching closer without even realising it, him doing the same until you were looking up, head angled and his downwards, head bent to admire you properly.
âhi.â you whispered again.
the size difference between you had never been more apparent until then, what with all of his strenuous visits to the gym these past few months. he had always towered over you, but it was different now - his already wide chest and broad shoulders engulfed you, his biceps on either side of him enough to have you wanting him in a way that certainly was not becoming of an ex wife.
itâs like he could read your thoughts, with the way he inched closer to you, until your bodies were openly brushing against each other faintly. material on material, fabric kissing fabric. you wished you could feel him on your skin.
the sound of your voice had lulled him gently as he dipped his head down lower so you could properly see him, despite your head back to look at him.
âhi, baby.â
your stomach flipped violently.
there it was again. baby. fuck.
as though the divorce papers were fickle, representing a momentary lapse of judgement instead of a ruling decision. like he still woke up beside you every morning and ruined your cheeks with kisses before falling in between your thighs.
the dazed look on your face didnât go unnoticed.
before you could even respond, yejin appeared behind you with the biggest smile she could possibly muster.
âoh my god,â she squeaked dramatically. âyou both look insane!â
jungkook blinked, momentarily pulled from the emotional spiral you were both taking part in as he straightened slightly, despite still being awfully close to you. your cheeks heated at the sound of her voice, jumping a little in shock, causing you to brush against him faintly.
âhi, yejin.â
âdonât hi yejin me.â she narrowed her eyes dangerously. âif she cries tonight, iâll kill you.â
âyejin!â you flushed red.
jungkook, however, allowed for a soft smile, nodding once. âfair.â
the sheer sincerity of it made the room go quiet, your eyes meeting his once more. you knew though it was a passing comment, he truly meant it - heâd let her kill him if it meant youâd hurt less.
your chest tightened all over again.
yejin seemed to realise it too, her teasing expression softening at the both of you. idiots in love, both too cautious to know what the correct next step was - thank god she loved to meddle.
âokay! youâre both gonna be late so hurry up.â she hummed, turning you and looking over you for any last minute touch ups. âiâll take these. iâll show myself out.â
with a cheeky wink, she all but pushed you backwards towards jungkook where your back gently brushed against his front. she had taken the flowers, shoved your clutch in your hand and shut the door in your face, all after giving you a big grin.
he didnât move from behind you, despite you turning to properly face him. the two of you stared at one another openly, eyebrows pulling together - you could see it happening in real time, the way his body curled at the mere feel of you. to be so close to you, touching you; it was out of a far away dream.
you felt it too - god, you could feel it in your veins. the horrifying wave of unashamed want that filtered through you so naturally, your body knew him. your body recognised your husband.
your man.
his restraint was palpable. you could see it in the way his fingers flexed on either side of him, almost twitching as muscle memory surfaced from deep inside of him. for years touching you had been second nature, with a hand on your waist, fingers lifting your chin, arms around your figure to hold you up for a kiss.
now he looked almost tortured as he realised he no longer knew what he was allowed to do.
the realisation alone softened you.
âwe should go.â you whispered up at him gently, though your voice lacked any real conviction.
jungkook stared at you, offering a small nod almost obediently despite the stark hunger in his eyes.
âyeah.â he cleared his throat. âyeah, okay.â
he stepped back and first; the distance was felt immediately.
you suddenly missed the warmth that radiated off of him, fingers faintly tugging on his suit jacket so gently you werenât even aware you were doing it. what the fuck was wrong with you? one touch and you were already spiralling into him again like the last eight months had never happened.
jungkook noticed. of course he did.
his chest visibly expanded from beneath the expensive material, eyes darkening so suddenly you felt heat up and down your spine. the way he looked at you had emotion swirling in your stomach, so hungry. so devoted.
you slowly released him, blinking rapidly as though youâd only just realised what youâd done.
âsorry.â you whispered instinctively.
jungkookâs eyebrows furrowed together in offence.
âdonât apologise for touching me.â his voice came out firmer than expected, low. far too intimate given the apartment hallway you were in.
the silence that followed felt thick enough to choke on, neither of you making an effort to move despite knowing you were bordering on being late. the tension was so unbearable now that you were both alone, freely staring at one another after so much time apart - no yejin to soften the edges. just fifteen years worth of tension, want and need all accumulated between you.
his eyes flickered downwards as he watched you sway slightly.
âyour heels are insane.â he muttered softly.
you blinked. âhm?â
âyouâre already wobbling.â
offended, your mouth gaped. âi am not wobbling!â
jungkook let out a small huff of amusement, loving how easy it was to rile you up. the sound completely disarmed you, seeing a glimpse of the same jungkook you had been with all of your life.
âyou almost fell walking out of the door.â he teased, with a tilt to his head downwards at you.
âi did not!â you shook your head with a small swat to his chest. he only let out another laugh. âyou literally grabbed onto me.â
âthat..doesnât count, okay?â
âmm.â amusement stretched over his face, as he led you to the staircase, cautious to be slow as he watched you continue to slightly wobble due to the uneven surface of the hallway. âsure.â
before you could even think of a rebuttal, you watched jungkook look down the multiple staircases with a slight frown before turning to you. he suddenly bent at the knees, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion for no longer than two seconds before one arm slid below your knees and the other around your back.
your gasp echoed.
âjungkook!â
he lifted you bridal style effortlessly, as though you weighed truly nothing to him.
your hands immediately flung to the back of his neck, arms wrapping around his shoulders in shock as your body felt more of him than it had done in what felt like eons. jungkookâs hands were so much bigger than yours, and you could feel him everywhere all at once, enough to have you dizzy with a sense of want.
âwhat are you doing?!â you whispered harshly, eyes blown wide as he sorted you on one single arm, checking his phone for the time with the other. it was beyond easy.
jungkook merely looked down at you calmly, entirely unbothered despite the way you could feel his pulse hammering below your fingertips.
âpreventative measures. canât have you slipping down the stairs.â
you stared at him in disbelief. âyou canât just pick me up!â
he scoffed a little, as though your words were going in one ear and out the other. your comfort came first, that much was ingrained in him and even you couldnât stop him when it came to that.
he walked down the stairs as though it was the most natural thing in the world, one hand spread wide against your back, claiming whilst the other was hooked under your thighs, making sure you were as comfortable as possible against him. your dress was draped so beautifully over his arm that anyone who would have caught you in that moment would have remarked, ironically, how bridal you looked.
you couldnât believe how safe he felt.
jungkook noticed the second you relaxed into him. properly.
âmissed carrying you.â he admitted quietly as he descended another step.
your entire body burned. âjungkook.â you breathed weakly, though there was no real warning behind your tone.
âwhat?â he hummed innocently. âsâtrue.â
you remembered almost fondly - it was the one thing you probably missed more than anything else. he would carry you everywhere - from the bed to your bath, to the couch after youâd woken up, through grocery stores just to hear you squeak in embarrassment. one time he had held you for an hour straight, walking you home after a date just because your feet hurt.
and now, here you were again, tucked into his chest as though it was home. you supposed it was.
your heart ached so violently at the memory that looking up at him through your lashes had your brain whizzing too fast for you to keep up with.
âyouâve gotten so much bigger.â you whispered almost shyly before you could stop yourself, already tucked into him too comfortably.
big mistake.
his heart truly nearly fucking stopped. his head snapped down at you almost instantly, eyes darkening so visibly it had you avoiding any contact, instead focusing your gaze on his clothed pecs.
âyeah?â he asked slowly.
your cheeks were flushed dark, realising how that may have sounded.
âjust..got broader.â you clarified through another whisper, wanting nothing more than to hide your face in his neck out of embarrassment.
âbeen working out a lot more.â he murmured down at you, ducking his head a little so that he could meet your eyes, a small smile forming.
you nibbled your lip with a little nod, fingers brushing against the ends of his hair.
jungkook knew you loved the size difference between you, but it truly didnât compare to how fucked it made his mind go. it was the first thing he had noticed when you opened the door again - how despite your heels, you were still so much shorter. it drove him insane, especially now that he was bigger. feeling you curled into his chest like this, all safe and protected, it made him feel wanted. to have you notice it, address it even so shyly; fuck. it ruined him.
by the time he had reached the bottom floor, your cheeks were still heated, dreading the fact he would have to let you go when all you wanted was to curl into him even deeper. to think ten minutes ago you had so much anxiety when now, he was actively conversing with you all whilst carrying you, it felt euphoric.
the driver stood outside of the car, the same man who drove you both to events when you were still together. your eyes widened a little as you watched him open the back door for you both, all whilst you were still leisurely held in his arms.
your embarrassment returned instantly.
âput me down!â you hissed quietly.
jungkook looked at you, unaffected. âwhy?â
âbecause your driver is literally staring at us, jungkook!â
the poor man looked away with a growing smile. he had missed seeing his boss so carefree, knowing that he was only like this when the situation pertained to you.
he smirked faintly. âheâs driven us around for years, baby. pretty sure heâs seen us do a lot worse.â
your mouth fell open, swatting his chest. âjungkook!â
that finally earned you a proper smile, brief but enough to knock the very air out of your lungs, your too large eyes drinking it in almost desperately. he was so handsome it hurt, and it wasnât until now you realised how much you had missed his smile.
carefully, he gently lowered you to the ground, making sure you were comfortable on your feet.
his hands lingered. neither of you moved.
your faces were suddenly so close once more as your hands had slid down from his neck, but remained in contact, fingers digging into his chest faintly to feel him. the city noise faded around you and into the background as he looked down at you with an emotion that could only be classed as longing.
âyou good?â he asked softly.
you nodded too quickly. âmhm.â
liar.
his eyes dropped to your lips once more, eyeing the gloss almost hungrily - would it taste like the strawberry you always applied? sometimes, when he closed his eyes, heâd remember the flavour.
then, like he had to physically pull himself back, he stepped closer to the car and gestured to it slowly.
âafter you.â
you slid into the backseat first, smoothening your dress as it rode up your body, all whilst your pulse hammered harshly.
the interior of the car was sleek, donned in a luxurious black leather whilst it remained dimly lit in the back, with enough enough space to stretch out your legs. the scent of jungkookâs cologne was addicting, and you immediately recognised it to be the one you had bought him on your last anniversary together, your heart fluttering at the thought.
once he climbed in beside you, you realised how intimate the space actually was.
jungkook sat close enough for his thigh to brush against yours, broad shoulders taking up far too much room whilst the driver shut the door quietly behind him.
neither of you acknowledged the contact. it somehow made it worse.
it wasnât until the divider between the front and the back began slowly sliding upwards, offering a layer of privacy that your breath caught audibly.
jungkook noticed - of course he fucking noticed. he couldnât stop staring at you, especially now that he had you trapped here, pushed against him like you belonged with a drive ahead of you. god, the things he wanted to do to you in this dress were sinful at best, but he had to practise restraint, no matter how much it took out of him.
he leaned back, one arm sliding over to the top of your seat, where although he wasnât touching you, you slyly leaned in just to have more of his warmth. it felt so familiar, so nauseatingly natural that anything other would have felt wrong.
he watched as your thighs pressed together.
fuck.
âyou nervous?â he asked in his low voice, jaw ticking.
your eyes slowly shifted, finally meeting his gaze. through a shaky laugh, one without humour, you nodded. âobviously.â
he softened at that, sharpness melting away to reveal the tenderness below.
âitâs just me, y/n.â
you felt so hyperaware of everything. the rain that tapped softly against the tinted windows, and the gentle purr of the car engine beneath you. the feel of jungkookâs thigh soothed you, whilst his heavy gaze unnerved you - a cocktail mix that felt so entirely him.
you could feel his eyes on you before you even looked up. once you did, your breath caught at the intensity of his stare - not polite. certainly not subtle. his gaze moved over you, up and down, like he couldnât help himself, like he heâd been trying to hold back the second you opened up the door to your apartment.
âfuck.â he muttered under his breath.
your cheeks flushed pink, whispering his name.
you watched his eyes flush down your body, eyes stuck on your cleavage and the way the material clung to your hips. âlook at you.â
you instinctively looked down, shy at the attention but you couldnât help but crave it. you knew exactly how obsessive jungkook was when it came to you, knew how deeply infatuated he was with every inch of you but seeing it so closely after so long almost felt soothing. it was a reminder that though everything had changed, somethings stayed the same.
his hand moved before you could think too hard about it, cupping under your chin and tilting your face upwards.
âdonât hide from me.â
your stomach tightened, eyelids hooded.
this thumb brushed against your jaw once, so soft, so unbelieving that you were in his arms despite the fact you technically werenât his anymore. not that he believed that.
âi canât stop looking at you.â he admitted, tone rougher now. âbeen trying since you opened the door, but itâs impossible.â
your thighs pressed together immediately, his gaze dropping to the small action. the reaction was subtle, but there - he noticed everything when it came to you.
you suddenly felt so warm.
âyouâre staring so hard.â you murmured nervously, fingers twisting together in your lap.
âbecause youâre driving me fucking crazy.â
the words came out so plainly your eyes widened.
jungkook exhaled sharply through his nose, head tipping backwards against his seat all whilst you watched with heavy breath. the far gone part of your mind wanted to track his neck, trace his adamâs apple with your fingers all so he could continue looking at you the way he had been.
he looked devastating like this - broad thighs spread in the backseat with your body pressed against him, his arm slung heavy on the head of your seat. the both of you were a mess for one another, sick in the head with infatuation.
you werenât stupid. you knew your effect on him, perhaps not to the full extent, but enough to know that nearly a yearâs distance between you was enough to drive a man like him insane. his hand dragged over his face with a quiet groan before adjusting himself slightly over his suit trousers.
your eyes flickered downwards before you could stop yourself.
jungkook smiled at the sound of your quiet giggle as you put a hand over your mouth to muffle it, looking up to meet his gaze after noticing he was half hard. all you had done was exist.
âyeah,â he murmured, the sound of your laugh blooming in his chest. âthatâs your fault.â
you slapped his thigh gently, although you couldnât hold back on the continuous giggles that were now leaving you as you felt lighter than you had in what felt like years. he too matched you, the intensity lightening up massively as he let out a quiet laugh despite himself.
âwhatâd you expect, hm?â he asked, voice soft. âi havenât seen you in eight months, and now youâre sat next to me looking like this. wearing pink.â
his hand slowly slid over, brushing against your own, fingertips grazing your skin before he intertwined them, gently.
you let him.
the second you curled your hand into his yourself, his expression changed. up until now, it was him losing control, reigning himself in, biting himself down to make sure you were as comfortable as possible but fuck. you were the one touching him now, making sure he could see you intertwine your hands properly, squeezing his hand.
it felt like a confirmation that this was the beginning of a new chapter.
he wanted to scream, to yell on the top of his lungs at the thought of you openly showing him your willingness. his sweet, angel girl; he loved you more than words could describe and he wanted to spend the rest of his life showing you.
âmissed this,â he admitted quietly, eyes on your much smaller hand holding his so intimately. âmissed you touching me.â
your eyes burned suddenly.
jungkook noticed immediately with a frown, expression softening at the edges.
âhey, baby.â his thumb brushed yours. âdonât cry.â
âmânot crying.â you whispered, though your voice wobbled embarrassingly.
he held you close to him as you both remained quiet for the rest of the journey, though the silence felt welcomed after such a rush and mix of emotions. you had gone from anxiety, to confusion, to excitement, to warmth, to a painful reminder of what once was - it was enough to drive you insane. being around him hurt, but being near him was healing.
rain continued to pitter patter outside as your hands remained intertwined, his fingers gently brushing against yours as he sat there trying to fathom how this was real. you were letting him in, and he could see it, could see how much it was taking out of you and heâd be damned if he fucked it up again. to get a second chance was insanity alone, but to have it with you?
the car began slowing down.
through the tinted windows, you could see a flash of white, people trying to get a glimpse of the elusive ceo they were so obsessed with. you gulped as you watched other powerful business people walk in with their dates, models and celebrities lining up to have their picture taken.
you leaned into him almost immediately.
jungkook held onto you tightly, arm sliding over your waist and gently squeezing. âiâm here. stay by me.â
you nodded quickly, dazed. âokay.â
his eyes lingered on your face for a second too long before he muttered under his breath, almost like he couldnât help himself. âyou look so fucking pretty.â
your heart nearly stopped, meeting his gaze as your shoulders slumped, feeling calm through his sweet words.
the car door opened.
chaos.
jungkook stepped out first and the reaction was everything you had expected and somehow so much more. your eyes blinked as you watched the cameras explode violently, reporters shouting his name from all directions as they desperately tried to get a clear shot of him, knowing he could easily make front page news without having to try.
your heart stopped for a moment.
his back faced everyone else as he turned to you, taking a hold of your hands once more and gently helping you out of the car, smoothening your dress.
the second they saw you? everything multiplied by ten.
genuine screaming was heard from somewhere behind the barricades as you slowly stepped out, your own hand finding jungkookâs for a sense of comfort which he readily gave you, pulling you in a little closer than necessary. the noise was erupting, your vision blinded momentarily by the insane flashes, reports actually tripping over one another to take pictures of you in particular.
this wasnât normal.
jeon jungkook never brought women anywhere. never entertained rumours, never dated publicly, never stood beside any other woman that hadnât been you. even then, you had been painfully private, making sure to attend closed events with rare appearances, often opting to support in the shadows as opposed to centre stage as he was forced to.
but now? this was the loudest statement you could have possibly made and it slowly dawned on you both the nature of the decision.
you were telling the world you were ready to start again.
his entire demeanour had changed out here.
you were overwhelmed to say the least, but it was his arms around you that kept you grounded as you clung to him, your smaller frame tucked so delicately within his own that some found themselves putting their cameras down just so they could observe you both.
you were the epitome of love and neither of you even knew it.
ceo jungkook - all cold eyes, sharp jaw, that terrifying calmness. yet every few seconds he ducked his head down, whispering something in your ear that would have you smiling almost shyly back up at him, easing your mind away from the hundreds of people who wanted nothing more than to get a picture of you.
âjungkook over here!â
âis that your ex-wife?â
âare you two back together?!â
ây/n!â
you flinched slightly as the voices got louder the closer you walked down the carpet towards the venue, but it seemed jungkookâs presence only felt bigger.
âdonât look at them.â he whispered down into your ear, words tucked for you and you alone. âlook at me.â
stupidly enough, you obeyed almost instantly. his eyes softened at the way you listened so sweetly.
âgood girl.â he muttered absentmindedly before guiding you to the entrance and away from the prying eyes outside.
the words hit you far harder than they should have. good girl.
oh you were so fucked.
â
the venue was utterly breathtaking.
golden lighting spilled across towering ceilings whilst soft music played from a live orchestra at one side of the ballroom, so elegant youâre indeed whether you were even appropriately dressed. people stared at you openly, all whilst you and your flushed cheeks looked away, purposefully keeping your gaze vague and avoiding eye contact with most. glasses clinked together as powerful figures mingled amongst themselves, professional cameras still set up inside.
and yet, none of it compared to the way people reacted to jungkook.
conversations paused when he walked by, people straightening up. executives who had once terrified you now looked nervous approaching him and it reminded you exactly who he was outside of your relationship.
jeon jungkook was a terrifyingly cold, business man. he was untouchable and unfeeling, everything that made a powerful man powerful and then there was you. his one weakness.
his hand remained firm against the small of your back possessively, claiming you as his own in front of anyone who could see. you loved when he was like this, all brooding and dark as though anyone even had a chance to steal him from you - silly man. even now, with months of distance between you and a divorce, you were all his.
âbreathe, baby.â he reminded with a quiet hum in your ear.
âi am breathing.â your cheeks warmed.
âbarely.â
you shot him a look, though it was void of any real annoyance as he guided you further into the room. you couldnât help but admire him openly, all whilst he scanned the room, not realising how deep you were falling into your own thoughts. he really had gotten so much bigger, with his chest so wide you couldnât help but wonder what it would feel like under your hands. his shoulders too.
you had spent the entire drive trying not to stare at him. you had failed. miserably.
âdrink?â
he pulled you out of your thoughts with a little gasp, realising you had been openly checking him out much to his pleasure. you found yourself nodding, nibbling away at your lip. âyes please.â
the words came out too fast, awarding you with a small laugh as he turned towards the bar.
your eyes followed him automatically.
that was another problem entirely. you see, no matter where jungkook stood, attention naturally followed. men greeted him immediately, keen to get into his good books whilst women openly stared, hoping to garner his fancy and yet he was completely and entirely uninterested. his gaze flickered back to you every few moments, as though he still couldnât believe you were right there, just for him. just because he had asked you to come.
your chest squeezed painfully at the thought.
he returned only a few moments later with two champagne glasses, handing you yours to which you took with a nervous smile.
âthank you.â
your fingers brushed his purposefully. small, barely noticeable.
oh, but how jungkook had noticed. he noticed everything when it came to you and judging from the way his throat bobbed, taking a large sip of his drink, you knew that your poor ex husband was certainly not able to handle your charm.
the champagne helped much quicker than you were expecting it to.
after the first glass, the tension in your shoulders completely eased but it was the second that had you transforming. your overthinking thoughts ceased to exist, as the warmth in your blood brought out a shade of pink in your face that jungkook couldnât look away from. standing close to him suddenly felt less terrifying and so much more thrilling.
a dangerous combination - especially when jungkook was looking at you with so much hunger.
a buzz had settled deep into your bloodstream, your brain slightly away with the fairies as you continued to sip, looking up at him. your other hand darted out, fingers trailing over his stomach openly, over to where the buttons of his suit sat. what was an absentminded action to you, tipsy, was enough to have jungkook almost shaking.
you were braver when you had alcohol in you, that much had been true your entire relationship, but even this felt quite insane. he watched as your fingers trailed up and down, sliding up to where his chest was only to drop lower and lower. it wasnât until your fingertips were brushing the top of his suit trousers that he grabbed your hand.
you pouted at him, head tilted. âwhy?â
your whine had his shoulders rolling.
âbecause,â he said slowly, voice rough beneath the sound of the orchestra. âyouâre getting handsy.â
your lips patted in faux innocence. âam not.â
jungkook stared at you half in disbelief and other half amusement, still holding your hand that he now pressed to his chest firmly. your fingers had nearly slipped below his waistband, a thought that had him nearly taking you home then and there but he knew it was because the alcohol was making you brave - his tipsy girl. his palm engulfed yours, feeling your fingers wriggle underneath to continue your plans with a slight whine but he was both firm and possessive, not letting you go.
you pressed your thighs together again.
this was the champagne.
he knew it, knew it to be a dangerous mix - the alcohol and your naturally clingy personality once you got comfortable, all combined with the eight months apart meant you were now simply doing whatever your heart wanted with little care to your mind.
your cheeks warmed as you watched him stare down at you, gaze heavier than anything all evening. it seemed the longer you were both in each otherâs presence, despite how long youâd spent apart, the more bold you were getting - but could you be blamed? he might have been your ex husband but he still belonged to you, and you knew you were still entirely his, a fucked up fact that meant you were both drawn to each other in ways that meant you could never move on.
multiple months of healing all gone to shit in a single night, with a few drinks. who were you both kidding - moving on wasnât an option. even you could see that now.
your fingers flexed under his hold, people secretly watching you both interact with bated breath. they couldnât believe this was the same jungkook they were afraid of, made to mush at the hands of the pretty woman in front of him. he was but a man afterall.
rather than pulling away, your fingers simply curled around the fabric of his suit jacket, fingers touching his shirt purposefully to elicit another reaction out of him. he had reduced you to putty in the drive over and perhaps it was the alcohol in your system, but you wanted him to feel the same.
jungkook was quiet. too quiet.
jaw slightly slack as he took you in, you touching him like his body belonged to you and you alone. he relished in the fact you knew it just as well as he did.
he had missed this so much. just the feel of you, no matter how innocent you pretended to be, skin on skin. it felt like a promise.
and now, you were standing here, head tilted to stare up at him properly whilst looking through pretty lashes that batted at him subconsciously.
it was driving him insane.
âyouâre staring again.â you hummed at him. his eyebrows narrowed. âbecause you keep touching me.â
you tried to bite down the smile that began to form on your lips as your fingers continued to flex, soon finding his heartbeat to confirm your suspicious. oh, he was a mess underneath your hand.
âyou donât seem to mind.â
his jaw flexed. you heard him curse under his breath, calling you a fucking minx which only had you giggling just as quietly. it was a powerful thing to have a man as influential as jungkook so weak in the knees for you, and you couldnât deny the affect it was having on your mind. he snaked a heavy arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him in a way that was absolutely not becoming of the environment you were in.
âkeep this shit up and iâll take you home.â he promised quietly, leaning down to whisper into your ear.
unfortunately for him, you had no intention of stopping. especially when you had just begun.
âpromise?â you whispered back, eyes wide with a faux innocence you knew he wanted to ruin.
his jaw clenched again, blood half boiling at how cheeky you were being and cock hardening by how badly he wanted to ruin you. had this been any other circumstance, youâd already be in the bathroom with your dress to your chest, being pounded into by the only man who knew exactly how to ruin you until you were well bred.
but alas - this night was about proving himself to you, and no matter how hard you made him, he knew he had to do this right.
and so, instead, he pinched you at your waist slightly, pulling an airless squeak out of you before he brushed his lips against your ear.
âbehave.â
the word should have been warning enough, but instead, warmth fluttered through you, rushing through your stomach so violently you pressed against him further. jungkook nearly hissed, watching how reactive you were for him, with your hooded eyes and slack jaw.
fuck.
his hands were all over you, with little care to who was watching and you knew tomorrow youâd be mortified when you remembered how brazen you had both been, but it was hard not to feel addicted when you were both feeling the same way. you giggled lightly, hiding your face in his chest momentarily before meeting his gaze.
âyouâre very confident for someone i divorced.â you playfully hummed.
at that, he couldnât help the smile that formed on his face. âdidnât stop you from getting your pretty hands all over me.â
the alcohol was well into your system as you found yourself giggling once more, fully hiding yourself in his chest to which he wrapped his arms around you properly, the two of you whispering and laughing together as though it was the most natural thing in the world. jungkookâs colleagues, rivals and admirers all watched you both in genuine curiosity at the way you were so well suited. two people, quietly infatuated with one another - it was toothache inducing.
the conversation between you both remained playful, with his thumb tracing your bottom lip at one point muttering something about how badly he wanted to know how your lip gloss tasted. an hour in and you were both practically trying to one up each other with how far you could take it, leaving you both laughing whilst trying to stay quiet.
this is what you had missed. joy. comfort. being around him in a way that didnât feel like you were fighting to prove something. it had been so long since youâd felt this carefree that you realised pretty quickly that you couldnât let him ago again. it was a horrible thought at first, realising that the past few months may have been for naught but perhaps absence did make the heart fonder.
soon enough, you had been there close enough two hours and jungkook had done the rounds once you settled in, less tipsy but still buzzed. you met his new business partners, clients you hadnât seen in a while, a mixture of familiar faces and people you had only ever heard about. neither of you commented on the fact he introduced you intimately, with a heavy arm around your waist.
it genuinely felt like no time had past with the way you both felt so comfortable, the dynamics between you natural considering he had been the one constant in your life for the past fifteen years. you sipped on your glass of water as you listened to his conversation half mindedly, watching him discuss a new company contract with one of his shareholders.
it wasnât until you heard a voice echo throughout the ballroom announcing the beginning of the charity auction that the conversation came to an end. jungkook immediately took a hold of your hand, planting a cheeky kiss to your knuckles with a slight smirk, before leading you towards the front of the room where the different things on auction sat to be admired over.
âcâmon.â
you followed him easily, hands intertwined whilst you walked side by side, champagne now a dull buzz in your body. people moved around you respectfully, all whilst their eyes lingered on you much longer than needed. could you blame them? you were the infamous woman that had managed to lock down the one man that seemed disinterested in everything, so much so that you had him laughing and flushing pink every time you so much as looked at him. the divorced couple that looked anything but divorced.
oh, they were staring indeed, with hushed whispers and even quieter questions.
your attention drifted lazily over the displayed pieces, politely but nothing quite caught your interest, your eyebrows pulling up at some of the art pieces named. it wasnât until you reached the very end that you found yourself stopped in your tracks.
jungkook noticed, he too coming to a stop to glance over at you only for his gaze to follow yours. he immediately understood.
beneath warm lighting sat a painting, inconspicuous to most considering it was much smaller than the grand pieces to the left, but it had your eyelashes fluttering
white gardenias.
your breath left you quietly.
it wasnât just flowers - it was an oil painting, textured with strokes of green, ivory and creams whilst petals cascaded over one another so delicately your heart ached. the background dat moodier, darker compared to the softness of the flower leaving you in a state of utter awe for a few moments, all whilst holding the hand of your ex-husband who watched you with bated breath.
it was beautiful.
you stepped closer unconsciously, hardly aware of yourself.
jungkook didnât think heâd ever seen you look at something with this much wonder, in all of the years he had known you. it did something to him, to watch you genuinely in awe at something he could so easily give you - it made him realise he needed provide it for you just to see that look again and again and again and again and again.
he felt this throat tighten, a harsh lump forming the longer he watched you admire it. the way your glossy lips parted, eyes widened and fingers tracing the air in front of it - donned in the same diamond necklace he had gotten you years prior. the same necklace heâd bought you after you murmured something about diamonds resembling stars late one night as you curled into him in your shared bed.
and here you were, wearing it, all whilst your hand curled inside his as though you had never been more at peace. that did something to him. something he couldnât quite describe.
your fingers moved to brush over the small description plaque underneath, reading the inspiration for the piece with a small, choked huff - devotion. enduring, eternal love through trial and tribulation through each season of life.
your own throat tightened then. of course.
âgardenias are difficult flowers..they die so easily if you donât take care of them.â you found yourself whispering; straightening your back and avoiding his gaze to bite back any tears that wanted to appear.
his chest tightened violently.
all he could think about was the little apartment you had both shared when you were younger, when he barely had any money to get you by each month. the one with the poor lighting and the janky sink - you used to sit by the window each morning whilst he got ready for work, whispering sweet things down at them because you believed it would help them grow.
he remembered every single detail.
âyou kept yours alive for months.â he whispered back, the hand that was clasped in yours now intertwining your fingers, as though he could project his memories back to you.
you blinked back at him, eyes glassy, surprised slightly. you hadnât expected him to remember something so small and insignificant.
how could jungkook could ever forget a single thing about you?
a small smile pulled at your lips. âi used to get upset whenever theyâd lose petals.â
âyou cried once.â he corrected.
you rolled your eyes. âshut up!â
he only shrugged, lips twitching. âhad to console you all night.â
âi thought i killed it!â
his quiet laugh nearly knocked the air from your lungs, all whilst he pulled you back into him, breathing in the scent from your hair before taking you to your shared table, where the auction was about to begin. your fingers remained curled around his own, all whilst he helped you sit down, fixing your dress for you.
he physically couldnât pull away from you, couldnât stop touching you even as you began conversing to the woman beside you, who jungkook recognised as one of his shareholders. his thigh was pressed against yours, all whilst his hand sat heavy in your lap, both of your hands playing with his fingers absentmindedly.
the different items came on stage as you watched people bid, raising their panels whilst some shouted out their numbers for more exclusive pieces. you couldnât help your giggles, leaning over to whisper in jungkookâs ear whenever youâd see more excited people, all for him to lean into you with an equal smile. the two of you were being silly, and it felt fun for once.
by the time the gardenia painting finally appeared, your posture straightened as you tapped on his hand with a wiggle of your eyebrows. jungkook watched you with a lazy grin, eyes flicking over your face.
cute.
the bidding started much lower than you expected, causing you to frown. âthatâs it?â
he nearly laughed, seeing your passion for your flowers. âartâs subjective, baby.â
âyeah, well everyone is wrong..so.â
fuck. he loved you so much.
you watched as someone raised their paddle, and then another, and another. a bidding war began as your head bounced between people, watching in utter curiosity though a part of you wondered what it would be like to bid yourself. ironically for you, you were completely unaware of the man beside you staring at your profile like he wanted to devote the rest of his life to you.
âtwo million.â
your eyebrows raised.
âtwo and a half!â someone else shouted, causing you to play with his fingers a little faster almost out of excitement.
âhope someone who actually appreciates it gets it.â you leaned over to whisper into his ear, lips brushing against his cheek in the process.
his jaw ticked.
game on.
just as someone shouted out, claiming three million, jungkook ran a hand through his hair before raising his panel, dark eyes trained on the auctioneer.
âfive million.â
your head snapped sideways so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash, all whilst jungkook sat completely calm, hand raised lazily as though this was easy. like he hadnât just dropped five million as though it was nothing.
âjungkook!â you whispered, eyes wide. he merely hummed back at you, hand still intertwined with yours. âhm?â
âwhat are you doing?!â
âgetting you your painting.â
you stared at him in disbelief.
across the room, multiple people were openly whispering now, glancing between you because everyone could recognise what was exactly happening. this wasnât ego - this was love.
obsessive, and terrifying love.
another bidder raised their paddle almost nervously, calling out a measly âfive and a halfâ after a moment of hesitation.
âseven million.â
an audible murmur fluttered through the room just as you grabbed onto his arm with a large gasp, eyes widening as though he was batshit insane. âjungkook, stop!â
he finally looked at you, small smile playing on his lips at the sight of you so shocked. it was so cute the way you were practically toppling over your seat, a reminder that despite being with him, you had never really dabbled in his wealth whatsoever despite it all belonging to you.
a large shout of âsoldâ was heard by all, but you couldnât bring yourself to look away from him. his eyes admired you, from your lips to your eyes, your shaking hands that were both clinging to his thigh, your cleavage that had dipped even further than earlier. fuck. you were the epitome of everything he had ever wanted.
âyou wanted it.â he whispered to you, as though that was all he needed, as though it was enough of a reason to spend seven million in one night with a flick of his wrist.
your eyes near enough watered at his words, knowing that nothing had ever described jungkook better.
â
things between you and jungkook had settled into something dangerous.
not enough to call yourselves fixed, or enough to place a label onto whatever fragile thing had formed between you, but enough that your days seemed lighter. having him back in your life meant you were happy again, and actually excited - finally feeling whole in ways that no one else quite understood.
he called more often now.
what started off as phone calls sometimes briefly between meetings, something about using your voice to destress before important gatherings. they quickly turned to late night facetimes where both of you laid in bed, half naked, chatting until either of you would fall asleep. some nights they turned into something darker, dirtier, with a slip of your night dress to show him more all whilst heâd grunt and hiss at the sight, whispering all of the things he wanted to do to you.
it was beginning to feel domestic, familiar even. so terrifyingly easy.
you realised pretty quickly that somewhere along the way, between late night conversations and soft laughs exchanged, you had began falling deeply in love again.
hard.
he had been away on business ever since the gala a few weeks ago, with him currently stationed in hong kong over some important stakeholder meetings. you knew he was incredibly stressed over it, given the frequency of his calls - always at odd times during the day and night, sometimes with the intention of just looking at your face as though it was the only motivator he needed.
the time difference was more irritating than you had expected, and yet he still managed to find a way to accommodate to your schedule as opposed to his.
your favourite so far had been a simple picture of the skyline view from his hotel, taken at three am with a caption of âwish you were here.â
you hated how much those four words affected you.
pathetic, really. how even now, youâd kick your feet in excitement over any message sent from your ex husband.
it had become routine now, to expect messages from him with each waking moment, calls when the workload was heavier. perhaps that was exactly why the silence that afternoon felt so particularly loud.
you were curled into your couch, opting to work from home as you were in his jumper and a pair of flimsy shorts. you hummed quietly as you balanced your laptop on your thighs, all whilst a random entertainment news channel played in the back to offer some noise in your otherwise quiet apartment.
your ears perked up once you heard jungkookâs name somewhere in the background.
your attention barely lifted at first, no doubt another gossip sesh on how attractive he was which often made you giggle, but this felt different.
âceo jeon jungkook spotted in hong kong alongside mystery woman-â
your stomach dropped.
the laptop slipped from your thighs and onto the couch cushion, all whilst your head snapped towards the television, reaching for the remote to turn it up. the image splashed across the screen, all whilst you sat there, smaller than anything, watching.
jungkook.
beside him, an undeniably beautiful woman.
she was tall, elegant, dressed sharply in a suit practically created for her whilst cameras flashed at them harshly, exiting a building together. the headline underneath made your chest cave in further.
âglobal heartthrob ceo finally moving on after the divorce?â
you stared. and stared, and stared, and stared, and stared, and stared until your knees had slowly slid to the ground, your back touching the couch whilst the entertainment show droned on and on about the details of your relationship with jungkook, about how smitten you had both seen at the gala, how they were the first to break this exclusive news.
your brain knew better. you knew jungkook like the back of your hand and logically, you fucking knew better. jungkook was so many things, but he had always placed you and your emotions first, your priorities, your necessities, your life - your wants and needs transcended everything else. you had never asked for it to be this way, it was just the way he was.
even during your separation, he had never looked at a woman twice. you knew that.
but logic had never been able to defeat insecurity.
all you could think, all you could see, based off of a single image was how she fit beside him. how effortless it looked, how beautiful she was, how successful. so poised and polished - she was everything a woman who stood beside jungkook ought to have been and it was killing you in real time.
the worst thing of all was the realisation that he didnât belong to you.
all of this emotion, this horrible feeling inside your chest and soul - you were the one to divorce him. you had been the one that demanded it end back then, no matter how much he had begged you to see reason, believing that it was the correct step forward for the both of you. he had every right to move onto someone else, had every right to actually step forward towards something new.
and yet the thought of him belonging to someone else felt the closest to grief you had ever felt in your life.
your phone rang violently loud beside you, droning out the words of the presenter and making you jump slightly.
jungkook.
your eyes burned instantly.
the phone continued to ring and ring across the sofa cushion as you stared at his contact picture, a photo taken on your anniversary a few years ago that you could never bring yourself to change. your chest rose unevenly as another harsh wave of emotion hit you.
you couldnât do this.
not after you had spent the past few months trying not to think about him, only for him to come back into your life.
the call rang out.
then another came. and another. and another.
your phone was blowing up with a mixture of calls and messages, each vibration making your heart ache so much worse as the topic changed on the tv, talking about some other celebrity gossip all whilst you felt your entire life collapse before your very eyes.
with shaking hands and teary orbs, you turned your phone off.
you burst into tears.
the rest of the day was spent being utterly miserable. you had never felt so pathetic in all of your life, with pain running up and down your veins in a way that genuinely left you almost debilitated. the last time you were this heartbroken, you were a fresh divorcee.
the curtains remained shut despite the afternoon sun outside, your apartment dim besides the soft flicker of the television that continued playing mindlessly in the background. at some point, you had dragged yourself towards your bed with tears still streaming down your face, his oversized jumper now heavy on your frame.
you hated this version of yourself.
hated how deeply this had affected you despite knowing better. you knew him better than this, had enough trust in him and yet you couldnât barter with what was directly in front of you - months after rebuilding a sense of confidence all for it to shatter over one measly, gossip channel.
you closed your eyes, images of the beautiful woman stood beside him flooding your mind causing you to open them up again with a quiet whimper. so composed and effortless. untouched by the devastation eating you alive.
by morning, your chest was in genuine pain.
you looked awful too.
your eyes were swollen, red with the continuous tears all night whilst your skin felt sunken and dull, the early morning sun hitting your skin from glimpses through your blinds. you forced yourself out of your bed and into your shower, trying to rid the plaguing thoughts out of your body. you failed, spending the majority of it quietly crying.
by the time you were in the living room again, your nose was just as pink as your eyes, hands shaky and body adorned in an old t-shirt you had secretly stolen from his wardrobe back when you were packing to leave. you curled weakly into the couch, blanket curled onto your legs as you begged your body to rid the horrible stomach ache that had now found home inside you.
your phone remained switched off, somewhere under the blanket, still left there from yesterday. you reached for the remote.
you just wanted mindless noise.
instead, the television flickered to life and you found your breath catching harshly for the umpteenth time within 24 hours.
breaking news banners on every channel you came across.
jeon jungkook.
a whimper pulled up out of your throat at the sight of his images everywhere, your fingers tightening around the blanket before you turned the volume up.
âthe ceo has officially filed legal proceedings against multiple media outlets this morning following yesterdayâs false dating allegations-â
your heartbeat began thundering. you sat up immediately.
another clip appeared instantly, reporters practically tripping over one another in front of jungkookâs main company building, cameras flashing in hopes of getting a picture of anyone who could answer for anything.
âthe statement released by jeon jungkookâs legal team less than half an hour ago reads as follows-â
the screen shifted, and suddenly, there it was. cold white text against a black background that had your breathing stopping completely.
âthe allegations regarding ceo jeon jungkook are entirely false. the individual photographed was present for a scheduled business meeting attended by multiple executives and investors. legal action will be taken against all parties responsible for the deliberate spread of false information and invasion of privacy.â
your throat tightened harshly.
your eyebrows furrowed as you watched the presenter stop, looking at the camera momentarily, before her voice completely softened.
âas for the final portion of the statement, many online are expressing surprise regarding the unusually personal nature of his response as he personally commented-â
more text appeared.
you scanned it once. twice.
over and over and over until a harsh sob was ripped from your lips.
âi have never entertained nor pursued any romantic involvement with anyone.
there has only ever been one woman.â
a broken sound tore from your throat as your hand flew to your mouth, fresh tears spilling from eyes so fast that you couldnât see the tv. your heart felt like it had been picked up from the ground, cradled and cherished after being pierced over and over all night, attacked without any reprise.
you couldnât believe what you were reading.
jungkook, your jungkook? so private and reserved, not willing to give one inch of himself to anyone other than you and yet here he was, making himself as clear as possible. he was telling everyone with ears that you were his but more importantly, he belonged to you and you alone.
he despised media attention, it truly was the one thing he hated more than anything and the both of you would often laugh at rumours and random things stated in the tabloids because they were all bullshit.
and yet he has made a statement publicly.
for you.
your chest cracked at the thought as you covered your face with both hands, sobbing harder and harder.
before you could wallow further, a loud banging erupted from the front door.
the sound tore so violently through the apartment, you jumped - startled on the couch whilst your heart leapt to your throat. the slight fear had your tears stopping immediately, allowing for enough of a shock to regulate your mind for a few moments.
another knock came before you could even process it. louder, and louder, and louder.
âbaby!â
your breath hitched painfully.
jungkook?
his voice sounded wrecked. not the calm, controlled man the world knew, nor the eerie ceo who often stood emotionless in front of the cameras whilst deals worth billions sat heavy on his shoulders. this was your jungkook - the one who loved you much too hard, half unravelled whenever the conversation pertained to you.
âopen the door.â he shouted again, along another collective banging. his voice cracked slightly. âplease..â
you stared into space for just a moment, your mind unable to comprehend what was happening before your legs carried you to the door, through the hallway. you slipped on your blanket slightly, already shaking body weaker than usual given the past twenty four hours, all whilst hot, heavy tears burned in your eyes once more.
another knock.
âbaby, câmon..â
the second your shaking hands unlocked the door, it swung open hard enough to hit the wall behind it, as though jungkook couldnât believe you had actually heard him.
he looked utterly destroyed.
he stood, still in a suit that now sat disheveled on his frame, black tie loosened around his throat, white shirt wrinkled as though he had been in it for hours. his usually pushed back hair was messy, pulled at and tugged through large hands any time he had realised the depths of emotion you were no doubt feeling looking at the news - if the shoe was on the other foot, and jungkook had seen news of you and another man; he wouldâve happily burnt the world to a crisp.
the second he saw you, his entire face fell apart, anger long dissipating.
âfuck.â he whispered, heaving out a breath.
his oversized shirt sat on your body, engulfing your smaller frame, swallowing you whole in a way that had his breath taken away. it was your eyes that broke him, however, as they looked so swollen, no doubt from crying so hard, your cheeks still damp and lips still quivering enough that he watched you bite down on them.
you watched his throat bob harshly, watched his eyes flicker over yourself frantically like he was trying to assess how badly you had been hurting without him here to comfort you. the thought terrified him.
that was all it took for a sob to rip out of your chest so painfully your knees almost buckled. your hands flew up to your face.
immediately, his arms shot out, cradling you almost harshly to him with one large arm completely covering you whilst his large hand pressed against the back of your head, holding you close to him as though this was the only remedy for a situation like this. his sweet girl. his sweet, sweet girl.
âi called you for nineteen fucking hours.â he said, eyes darting down at you desperately.
you couldnât stop crying. âi know.â
âyour phone was off.â his voice broke slightly, as though the situation had hurt him beyond words. âthat scared me, y/n.â he admitted, chest heaving a little.
your crying only worsened immediately because of course it scared him - jeon jungkook, a man whoâs entire identity was you and you alone. the prospect of losing you for the second time would surely be enough to kill him, and yet answering his calls felt like the last thing you could bring yourself to do.
âi tried not to think like that,â you choked out through hiccups. âi know you wouldnât, logically i know but just kept seeing the pictures of you beside her and..â
your chest was heaving.
âstop talking about her.â
the words came out sharp, almost harsh.
his hand slipped to cup your face, holding your jaw in place whilst his arm slipped down, cupping your body to him so you could rest, his own strength supporting you up. his eyes were wild.
âdonât,â he repeated quieter, chest rising and falling. âdonât..stand here and..fuck, donât compare yourself to someone else for even a second over some shitty tabloid.â
you couldnât stop crying. it was as though that was all you could do.
âjungkook..â
âno.â he cut in immediately, voice cracking at the edges. âyou donât get it.â
he stood before you, a cocktail mix of utter despair and devotion, all whilst anger and fear simmered on the surface, every emotion open on his face to the point he almost felt unrecognisable. you knew he loved you, could see it painted on his features for the world to see but you werenât sure when his feelings for you had become his very destruction. it scared you.
his hand shook around your face.
âyou think i flew half a day because of a fucking dating rumour?â his eyes glazed over. âi donât give a fuck about the tabloids, baby, you know that. i was scared because i know what this would do to you. i know your brain.â
your breath hitched.
âi know you.â he repeated, hands continuing to shake against you. âknow how your mind gets. i know youâd sit here and cry over this shit when you know i would never touch another woman.â
another harsh sob clawed up your throat, and jungkook heaved at the sight as though it was the worst sound he had ever heard.
âlook at me.â he pleaded suddenly.
his hands dropping from your body as he suddenly dropped to his knees - a man of his stature rendered completely broken by the woman he loved. the amount of people who looked up to him, feared him; the amount of people he dictated on a daily basis and yet here he was, on his knees for you. only you.
âthere has never been anyone else.â his voice cracked completely. ânot before you, not after you. not after this, no matter what happens, you hear me? itâs you, and itâs always going to be just you.â
your own knees were begging to give out, as you leaned against him, only for him to rest his face against your stomach, breathing you in like a man desperate for your understanding. he wanted you to see, needed you to comprehend the situation at hand. there was no him without you, the concept didnât exist.
âyouâre the only woman iâve ever loved and there is nothing after you, y/n, because youâre my wife. divorce or not, i donât give a fuck, i belong to you forever whether you want me or not and i wonât..i canât have you thinking otherwise.â
your entire body gave in at the admission as you collapsed into him with another heart breaking sob, jungkook holding you like a man terrified he had said too much and truly not enough. for the first time since the divorce, neither of you tried to pretend this wasnât exactly what it was.
â
the rest of the evening softened after that.
somewhere between the tears and the endless kisses planted to your cheeks, nose, head, hands and stomach came an ease to the panic that had long settled into your bones for the past few months. he refused to let you go, grunting almost childishly whenever youâd move out of his arms to do anything until you found yourself snuggled back into his arms, as though the thought of distance after such a clear cut declaration of love physically pained him.
he looked exhausted now that the adrenaline of the situation had worn off, his under eyes sunken from the exhaustion that had now settled deep into his body. to think he had flown all the way across the world simply because of the thought of you crying all alone over a situation that was so completely false upset him - it made you want to sob all over again.
how could you have ever let him go? how could you proceed forward without him, without him so deeply intertwined in your life once more?
eventually you found an old pair of black shorts mixed in with your clothes from when you had packed your things all those months ago. jungkook had stared at them for a few moments after his shower, towel low on his hips as water droplets slipped down his chest. it had his heart pounding faster than anything yet.
âyou kept these?â he murmured down at you, watching the way your eyes flickered up from his physique, small gasp leaving your lips at being caught. âoh! um..mustâve slipped them in by accident.â
he didnât comment on the fact you were wearing his t-shirt either, despite it hardening his cock.
still, he pulled them on as you settled into bed, your hair still scented from your earlier shower too. you, in his too big top, whilst he grabbed you immediately, shirtless and hands still desperate to hold you in a way he had held back on for so long.
you hummed as your body pressed against his, his figure snaking around your body as a heavy arm curled under your ass as a means to prop you up higher in his arms, causing you to giggle into his neck. your arms wrapped around him too, humming a little under your breath as he breathed in your scent openly.
you both laid there in silence for a long while, breathing. healing.
the room was dark now, with the city lights from afar shining through the slips of your blinds, illuminating slivers of his bare chest beside where your hands sat. you could feel his heartbeat, the way it calmed your already heightened senses as though your body recognised it was finally home.
âmissed this.â you whispered into his ear, only snuggling closer to him.
jungkookâs grip, once on your waist, slid down to your ass once more. this time, his palm sat on your ass cheek, fingers digging into your skin whilst breathing you in.
âdonât say shit like that to me when iâm hard.â he grunted, a small smile forming across your lips. you hadnât even done anything, not that you needed to to get jungkook bothered.
when you pulled him from your neck, his eyes were already glazed over, both of you taking a second to simply stare at one another in the exact way you had wanted for so long. his mouth parted, as his hooded eyes took you in, holding you closer, tighter.
within seconds, his lips touched yours.
slowly, at first, as though he was trying to relearn you after years of you being his. he savoured every moment of your lips against his, especially once you started to kiss him back, both of you uncertain in the beginning but once your hands began to find home in his hair, it was then that jungkookâs touch began to grow in confidence.
he kissed like a man starved, one hand buried in your hair too whilst the other continued to grip your ass possessively, as though physically feeling you was enough to have his mind go into overdrive. every small sound you made went straight to his cock as he swallowed your little sighs and whimpers, only pushing him to kiss you deeper and deeper and deeper.
he was growing desperate, pushing you down against the bed, half hovering over you as he rested on one arm, hand cupping at your thighs, your stomach, your knee. anything he could get his hands on all whilst his tongue explored your mouth as though he had every right.
perhaps he did because despite everything, the divorce and distance, the heartbreak - he still reacted to you like you were the only thing capable of fucking him up.
his lips eventually drifted from your mouth, pressing against your chin, your jaw and finally your neck. oh, this sweet, pretty little neck, he had dreams of marking it up and down every other night and the fact he had you in his arms now, in a bed far too small for the things he so desperately wanted to do to you was everything and more.
jungkook moved, properly hovering over you now just as you moaned into his mouth, legs wrapping around his waist, pushing your top down your thighs and revealing your lace panties you had conveniently put on. just in case, of course.
he pulled away, a string of saliva connecting both of your mouths as you watched it break apart the further he pulled his head back. just staring at you hurt, with the way your cheeks had flushed and your hair was spread all across the pillow, and your thighs. fuck. the sight of what was between them had him openly groaning down at you.
âneed you to tell me to stop baby, or i wonât be able to hold back.â he hissed down at you, feeling your legs tighten around him before he could finish his sentence.
your hands moved to the waistband of his shorts, eyes never leaving his as you tugged on it just slightly. jungkook, whoâs two hands were on either side of your head, blinked down at you half in awe and other agony, the prospect of you teasing him in a moment like this his literal worst nightmare. you always knew how to make him impatient, said it was the best version of him.
he watched with bated breath as you grabbed one of his arms until his hand was in your own, slowly pushing it under your top to rest on your stomach. it felt heavy on your frame, large palm heating your already hot skin before you pulled him down, other arm wrapping around his neck.
âwanna feel you here, kookie.â you whispered into his ear.
jungkook nearly took you then and there.
his jaw flexed, a heavy leaving his lips as he chased your lips, planting another kiss. âyeah? want kookie deep inside?â
âmhm.â you hummed against him, placing your hand over his on your stomach.
âbut havenât taken me for so long, baby. might be too much.â
you closed your eyes at that - the way he cooed down at you despite telling you how easily he could ruin you, break you. it all felt like too much and yet the empty ache inside of you reminded you it wasnât enough, causing you to merely nod.
âi donât care. want it.â
the pout on your lips. fuck. jungkook thanked the gods he was a better man, more patient, especially knowing you were doing this on purpose.
âalways used to struggle to take me, hm? fucked you open every night and youâd still cry.â
jungkook reached forward, lips on your neck once more but this time, his hips began chasing yours, grinding down almost harshly, causing you to feel every inch, every vein against the flimsy material you called panties. it was heavenly
your hands grabbed him by his biceps, smaller hands unable to wrap around the circumference of his skin. how could you forget your nights of passion? he would spend hours between your legs, so mean, orgasm after orgasm and he still wouldnât feel satisfied, an insatiable man to his core. even on nights youâd argue, it would somehow end in you fucking which meant the last eight months had been utter hell.
your poor fingers couldnât reach far enough and nothing brought you to an orgasm unless you thought of him, imagining it was own digits instead of your own.
silly you - if only you realised how similar you and jungkook were. he couldnât get off unless he was on your instagram, staring at your pretty eyes and lips as he tugged on his cock with all of his energy, round after round after round only to be constantly dissatisfied. having you below him, so ready to be his again? it fucked with his head.
âyou'll make it fit.â you whispered.
within mere moments, neither of you could wait. his shorts, alongside the large tshirt that originally belonged to him were on the floor, leaving you in your lacy panties alone. his boxers strained against his hardened length which oozed precum at the mere sight of you, hips bucking a little as you watched him groan out loud at the wet patch forming against the flimsy material.
âmy pretty pussy.â he whispered, just as he parted your legs. his fingers pushed your panties to the side, almost hissing from how damp they were, knowing you must have been needy for a while. âmissed her. youâve been holding out on me, baby.â
your eyelashes fluttered up at him at the first touch of his fingers running up and down your slit. you let out an airy moan, barely audible, your body immediately easing back into the covers now that you could finally feel him on you.
he suckled on your neck whilst he circled your clit, knowing your body better than anyone. you were both so in tune with each otherâs wants and needs that an eight month break between you both meant nothing when he bit against the sweet spot on your neck all whilst applying more pressure.
you squeaked, nails digging into his biceps at the harshness of his fingers.
âfuck, youâre so needy.â he grunted, pulling away from your neck after leaving a hefty purple bruise. ânot been touching your pussy the way it needs.â
âdoesnât feel..â you moaned louder. âdoesnât feel good if you donât do it.â
his eyes almost rolled back at that. âyeah? need kookie to be the one to touch you?â
âmhm.â
at that, he pulled his hand away only resulting in a loud whine from you. so cruel, to have been given a taste, only to have it pulled away from you.
your positions, however, suddenly changed as jungkook realised the space on the bed was much smaller compared to the bed you had once shared. he rested his back on your wooden bed frame before grabbing you properly, resting you in his lap against his too hard cock, spreading your legs wide.
your back was against his chest, all whilst he caged you in, his fingers returning to your cunt immediately.
this new position had you so much more exposed, as he pushed your thighs apart, index finger circling your hole before slowly pushing inside. your eyebrows furrowed, watching him with a shake to your breath as he took his time, knowing a single one of his was the equivalent of two or three of your own - a though that had him wanting to fuck into you already.
the loud moan that left your lips once he fully inserted it was enough to have him kissing at your temple, cooing.
âlike that?â
âfeels big.â you whispered back with a shake, feeling him pump in and out.
at that, jungkook thought he was ready to fucking cum. even your pussy was as sweet as you were - too big? one finger and you were already fucked out, but he knew he had to stretch you to accommodate him, a thought that brought a nasty little smirk on his face.
âgotta fuck you open, baby. always so tight.â he continued to coo at you, all as you looked up at him, his finger being joined with another.
soon enough, he was roughly fingering you, all whilst you both maintained eye contact, often breaking it just to share a kiss as though neither of you could get closer to the other. the feeling of him inside you, just like you had become used to for so many years after months apart was the definition of pleasure, your eyes hooded with each pump.
âfeels sâgood.â you slurred slightly, chest heaving.
he watched your breasts, your bed squeaking with each passing movement and he fucking loved it. loved having your eyes on him, loved having your tits bounced everytime heâd fuck you open a little harder, your sweet moans filling the space.
you could feel how hard he was, but everytime you tried to turn to pleasure him too, heâd merely hold you tighter, as though your orgasm was the only objective on his mind. he wanted to eat you out, fuck - the thought had him all but growling at you but he knew heâd never last, promising himself heâd save that for later tonight.
âwish you knew how many times iâve dreamt about this.â he grunted down at you, as he watched your thighs try to close from the onslaught of pleasure, only for him to widen them immediately. âiâm constantly fisting my cock thinking about you. at work, at home, in the fucking car.â
âwhat do you think about?â you pressed desperately, needing to hear it.
jungkook bared his teeth at you slightly, all whilst his pace quickened. âthink about breeding you, pumping you full of cum till youâre begging me to stop. every morning, every night until youâre pregnant with our baby. youâd like that, hm?â
you could have sobbed. like was an understatement, your legs widening with each passing word as you nodded almost desperately at him, looking up and above where his head tilted down to watch you.
your eyes then fluttered shut at the image of him touching himself, almost shuddering out of relief at the thought of him so infatuated that he had to cum just to get you off of his mind. especially at work - the whole reason of your divorce being his dedication to his occupation and now knowing you had your affect on him there too? it was euphoric.
âthink about you all the time.â you whimpered back at him, pout so cute he wanted to scream. âtried..fuck..tried to touch myself after the gala..but wasnât enough.â
he watched as you shook your head up at him, one of your hands on his wrist as the same hand pumped faster inside of you at the admission. he cursed under his breath, letting out a deep exhale.
âshouldâve told me. fuck, y/n. wouldâve ruined you then, baby, you know that right?â he nuzzled into your cheek. âwouldâve let you use me as much as you want.â
it was your turn to whimper under your breath, as your eyes shut tight at the familiar feeling in your stomach starting to creep up. it was shocking, how slowly it managed to creep on you, and yet you could feel every inch of its intensity, the first in a long time where you know youâd feel satisfied.
jungkook could feel you clenching, your too tight hole sucking him in desperately as a bid to have him go meaner on you, to which he was more than happy to oblige with. he grabbed your chin with his other hand, forcing your head back so youâd open your eyes again. he wanted to watch.
âeyes on me, pretty girl.â
you werenât sure if it was the sweet way he cooed at you, or the brutal pace he was now forcing you to take but your orgasm hit you like a freight train. you let out a loud squeak as electricity fluttered through from your head to your toes, your hips rising whilst he continued to finger you through your high, hissing at how sexy you looked maintaining eye contact.
his pace didnât lessen, devoted to longing out every hit of pleasure for as long as possible, your legs shaking as you pawed at his wrist, but he refused to stop. your body began falling into overstimulation, whining loudly as your weakened hands grabbed onto his, feeling him finally slow whilst he remained two fingers deep, pushed inside of you all the way to his knuckles.
he curled them one last time, causing a shaky breath to leave you before slowly removing them inch by inch.
the emptiness inside of you was horrible, a reminder of what else you wanted and how badly. your big eyes met his, only to watch him take his fingers press them against your pouted lips until they parted, your tongue wrapping around. you tasted yourself, a sweet sigh leaving his lips at the sight of you sucking so eagerly, his cock jolting harshly in his boxers.
âstill donât think you can take me right now.â he whispered down at you, other hand moved so it was openly cupping your pussy as a whole, palm brushing against your hypersensitive clit.
you jolted which each passing touch, breathing shaky before you took his fingers out of your mouth, saliva coating them where your slick once was.
âdonât care, kookie. i want it anyway.â you grumbled slightly, and he swore he had never loved you more.
it was your turn to move as you pulled away from his grasp, giggling a little to yourself at the look on his face once you put space between you, only to turn around, so you were laying on your stomach. he remained in his position, legs on either side of you allowing you to press your hand against his massive bulge.
oh, how youâd missed his cock.
you were as impatient as ever as you pulled his boxers down enough so that his fat cock could finally spring free, watching the way it tilted upwards at first, but its weight forced it down lower and lower until it was resting almost gently on your face.
he wanted to take a picture. wanted to make it his screen saver, your contact picture in his phone - he wanted it in his fucking wallet. his girl, eyes all hooded after being bratty for his cock? you were a minx and you didnât even know it.
âdonât have a condom.â he found himself whispering at you, just as you began to pump him.
you tilted your head at him, hand unable to wrap around his length as you slowly teased his slit, fingers brushing against it just to him shudder. you watched his face, watched his very composure crumble before your very eyes all whilst he muttered something about a condom? your mind was barely working, still sensitive from the way he had made you cum and the horniness still in your stomach.
âwhy would i want you to wear a condom?â you whispered up at him, as though it was a little secret between you.
you watched his eyes darken in real time, narrowing down at you as both of his large hands grabbed the back of your head. you giggled, resting your cheek on his thigh whilst you continued to pump his cock, focusing on the tip just the way he liked it. the heaviness in your hand was what you missed the most, causing you to leave a little kiss to it on the mushroom tip, your fluttering eyes only driving him more and more insane.
he wouldnât last like this. not with you staring up at him like that.
and so, he pulled your hair. you whimpered, pussy clenching as he pulled you up by your locks, your large eyes completely taken over by how rough he was being with you, no doubt being fuelled by the heightened emotions of the past two days. this was your favourite jungkook, secretly of course.
within seconds, you were on your back once more, all whilst he grabbed your hips and yanked you close to him. he dropped down to give you a kiss on your lips, savouring the taste and feel of you before beginning to rub his cock up and down your tight hole.
âmy girl.â he whispered against your mouth. âno going back after this.â
your eyes clenched shut at the feeling of him teasing you, pushing the tip against your hole only to pull back the second it began inserting, rubbing it up and down and over your clit once more. he was a tease through and through, but you were too needy to see reason.
âdonât wanna go back, want it all.â you simply whimpered back.
your words were enough to finally have him pushing inside of you.
first, the tip. your face contorted to the familiar feel of his cock slowly inserting inside of you, your breath catching slightly at the sheer size of him - you struggled to take him even when your sex life was incredibly active, so you knew now that you hadnât been touched for eight months, this was going to be hard.
you watched his face harden, all whilst your eyes slipped downwards to see him pushing further in, inch by inch, until your fingernails were puncturing the skin of his outer arms. he watched your face instead, willing himself not to cum at the way your jaw grew slack, big eyes only widening further at the too large cock settling in inside of you.
it was too much, too big, too at once. you couldnât think, could barely see and yet you couldnât pull yourself away from watching him bottom out even if you wanted to, a slight bulge evident where he sat deep inside of you. his large hand took a hold of yours and kissed it before pressing it against the bulge, only to rest his own right on top. applying pressure, he hissed at the way you let out a loud whimper, your cute thighs trembling around him.
âfeel that?â he whispered down at you, nuzzling your nose to force you to look at him. âthats where i fucking belong. this pussy stretches so good for me every time.â
your lip was already trembling, a sight that had his cock throbbing deep inside of you as you clenched down on him hard. his cry baby - he loved seeing you teary during sex.
you were still adjusting as he began to move, causing you to squeal, but jungkook couldnât wait anymore, not when heâd been dealt with blue balls for close to a year. you were the only option, pledging to live a life of fucking celibacy if youâd have chosen to never let him inbetween your legs again though the thought killed him inside. live a life without a taste of your sweet pussy? heâd sooner die.
âjungkook!â you slapped the tops of his biceps, as he continued his thrusting inside of you, nipping at your jaw, feeling his smirk against your skin.
the feeling of him thrusting in and out of you was intense, something you had been craving for so long now and yet now it was happening, you wanted more, and more and more and more and more. he loved this shy game youâd always play, always pretending like you couldnât take it despite the fact your legs were widening further and you were moaning like a bitch in heat - it turned him on beyond words to know underneath the sweet persona, you were the filthiest slut he had ever known.
his pace was deep, mean but slow and it wasnât enough, purposefully done to tease you for as long as he could, to ensure youâd stay needy. it was clearly working with the way your moans, whines and gasps filled the air only to be followed with a long drawl of his name, face scrunched up so cute he wanted to fucking scream.
âcâmon, baby, youâre so good to me.â he cooed, continuing his slow thrusts. âjust gotta ask if you want something.â
your eyes scrunched shut, whimpering at his words knowing he wanted you in ways that you had reminisced on for months, the feeling of him kissing the gummy part of your cunt something you had missed so much.
âwant it properly, kookie.â you begged him, though you couldnât meet his gaze, eyes flickering down to his neck as he continued his pace. âyeah? tell kookie how you want it.â
your fingers clung to his shoulders as he came down, arms now pressed on either side of your head as he nuzzled your nose with his own, actions too sweet given the sinful position he had you in.
your breathing was ragged, the feel of him inside you too much for your poor little mind to handle without breaking and yet it wasnât nearly enough. you craved something harsher, meaner, more jungkook. neither of you had ever been ones for soft sex, always preferring it as needy as possible which only heightened considering the fact you were both so utterly obsessive when it came to the other.
you whined loudly as his actions came to a stop completely, now grinding against you whilst still being inside.
âjust want you to fuck me properly.â you whimpered, lip quivering so much faster, hips lifting to meet his as a means to relieve yourself.
god. you were killing him.
âgood girl.â
jungkook planted a single kiss to your lips, oddly sweet before pulling back, planting two more to your forehead and nose. you were ready to whine once more until you felt his hips pull back, only to thrust into you harshly.
you squealed as jungkook began his pace exactly how you craved it, exactly how you used to picture with your own fingers in your cunt, desperately trying and failing to replicate the feel. hard. fast. mean. rough.
your neighbours would no doubt complain tomorrow with the way your bed frame began pounding into the wall, his head pressed against yours as his thrusts began kissing your cervix. your legs shook around him, much to his enjoyment, all whilst he forced you to maintain eye contact, wanting so badly to see the affect he was having on you after he had been deprived of you for so long.
âfuck..there she is. thatâs my girl.â he hissed down at you, not holding back, the sound of skin slapping against skin heavy in the room. âyou donât know how badly i missed you.â
âm-missed..ugh! missed you..too..â you managed to string together, salted tears now escaping your eyes as they streamed on either side of the pillow.
âpretty girl like you needs to be fucked mean. no good to be nice to you, huh?â he growled down at you, only causing your lip to quiver that much faster as you nodded. âcanât think unless itâs me bullying your pussy into an orgasm.â
your nods were paired with soft sobs as he pounded, ruining your soppy core just like you had wanted. you had dreamt of this, dreamt of him, genuinely believing youâd never reach this state of pleasure ever again in your life and yet here he was, coaxing it out of you to remind you that heâd never leave you again.
his thrusts were sloppier than usual, no doubt due to the extensive length between your last fuck but it only had you moaning and crying louder. the thought of the usually composed jeon jungkook a whining mess for you and you alone had you clamping down hard on his cock.
âcanât believe i let you leave me.â he grunted hard at the feel of you getting so tight, gritting his teeth as he pounded you further. ânever again. you fucking hear me, y/n? youâre my wife forever.â
âpromise?â you sobbed back, arms now wrapping around his neck as you tried to bring him impossibly closer, as though you could in any capacity.
he nipped at your bottom lip, moaning into your mouth at the way you all but begged him to make it a reality.
âgonna take you to the courthouse tomorrow, get you a nice dress and we do..fuck..we do this again, understand?â he closed his eyes the more you whined and whined. âgonna let me put that ring back on your fucking finger, baby?â
you nodded wildly, just as you felt your orgasm build up in your stomach again, whining loudly up at him in a way he recognised immediately. fuck, he had missed this so much - his angel girl, all needy, begging for it even though she could barely take it. he could feel his own coming on fast, causing him to pull his hand down and rub at your clit, hissing at the feeling of you clamping down on his cock harshly.
âcâmon baby. want you to cum on your husbandâs cock, hm? gonna get you nice and round like you deserve.â his thrusts only got meaner. âmove you back in. fuck this pussy every single day, just like you need.â
your high rushed through you at the exact point his did, your legs wrapping around his waist as a means to keep him inside. you could feel it all through your body, the way it seized up and bucked into him all whilst he continued his thrusts, fucking you through both of your orgasms.
your vision started growing dark, the intensity of it overwhelming as he rode out your highs whilst whispering soft i love youâs in your ear, cradling you to his chest, holding you closer than youâd ever felt him before.
everything after that completely blurred together.
you remembered jungkook taking care of you, tenderness laced into his very being as he held you like you were akin to a porcelain doll - sweet, so soft, so delicate. somewhere between the damp kisses pressed to your skin underneath the bubbling bath he had drawn for you both, to the continuous declarations of love muttered down at you; you realised that this was inevitable. he was inevitable.
there didnât exist a reality where you both could live without one another - you knew that now.
even after the heartbreak, the divorce, the loneliness and the debilitating grief, you still found yourself exactly where you belonged. your cheek pressed against his chest, his heartbeat soothing you into a dreamlike state which paled in comparison to the reality that was now yours. his love had you wrapped so tightly you knew youâd never live without it again.
you were finally home.
â
this beast of a fic is finally done yay!!! i hope you guys love ex husband jungkook just as much as i do!
tried to make him less yandere in this one and more pathetic yearner lol but i may have slipped here and there đ
iâd love to hear your thoughts on this - love hearing you guys after a fic drops so iâm excited to see what you all think!!!!
if you wanna help support me pay my disgusting, awful, horrific london rent, my kofi is linked <3
summary: desperate to see if a man devoted to god will unravel, you test his faith with your sweet, deceptive innocenceâseducing fr. jeon until his devotion no longer belongs to godâŚbut to you.
warnings: priest jungkook x sinful reader, explicit sexual content, forbidden relationship, candle wax play, rosary choking, edging, clit rubbing, filthy sexual desires, spitting, degradation, mock sympathy, pussy eating, condescending dirty talk, blow job, cum eating, usage of whore & slut, praising, cum eating, m. masturbation, manipulation, multiple orgasms, rough sex, overstimulation, fingering, penetrative sex, creampie.
Temptation, they said, was the devil's favorite weaponâŚsubtle, patient, and often disguised as something beautiful.
Your beauty was the kind that invited sin. Like a priceless painting in a museum, admired by many but forbidden to touch, existing only to test the restraint of those who stood before it.
Yet despite the effect you seemed to have on everyone else, Fr. Jeon remained frustratingly untouched by it all. Men had always looked twice, their attention lingering long enough to make their interest known. But his eyes never lingered on you. They would meet yours for a fleeting moment before moving on, calm and unwavering, carrying the same gentle warmth they offered every soul that walked through the church doors.
Pathetic.
Wearing a long white virginal skirt, a matching conservative blouse, and your hair falling neatly down your waist, you grabbed your purse before heading downstairs to meet Sana.
âGlad you finally wore something decent,â Sana commented with a sheepish smile when she saw you stepping out of your house.
You pouted, looking down at the modest skirt fluttering around your ankles. âMy cute dresses are decent too, you know.â
You werenât a very religious person, but when your friend Sana told you she wanted to join the church choir, you were more than happy to come with her.Â
Between the two of you, she was the religious oneâalways carrying a small pocket bible in her purse, always reminding you to watch your words and actions because God was watching.
A lot of your friends were confused about how the two of you became so close. You were playful, rebellious, and brattyâmore of a bad influence beside someone so polite and devout. But despite your mischievous nature, you were very sweet, friendly and charming. At university, you were one of the popular students, with plenty of friends and a reputation as a social butterfly.
When you first met Sana, you hadnât expected the two of you to get along. She was a new student, still adjusting to the unfamiliar environment and trying to find her place among the other students. Being the friendly social butterfly that you were, you became the first person to approach her.
Your personalities couldnât have been more different. Sana was calm, reserved, and quiet, while you were bold, bright, and loud.Â
Despite being complete opposites, the two of you grew unexpectedly close. You liked Sana because she was a breath of fresh air. Her calmness grounded the chaos within you, while your playfulness brought balance and excitement to her peaceful life.
Ever since you became best friends, you often accompanied her to church. Although you looked somewhat out of place trailing behind her while she helped with various church duties, volunteer work, and parish activities...you still enjoyed spending time with her.
You liked how she always listened to your rants and endless rambles. Following her around while she busied herself carrying boxes and helping wherever she could, your kitten heels clicked softly against the churchâs marbled floors, and the longest dress you could find in your closet swayed gently with every step. As unusual as it felt to be dressed so modestly, you couldnât deny that you enjoyed these moments with Sana.
Your usual style of dressing didnât exactly align with the churchâs dress code⌠you had to trade your short skirts, midriff-baring tops, tight dresses, and cute spaghetti-strap tops for something more... demure.
At first, you tried to argue against it, but Sana quickly reminded you that those clothes werenât appropriate for church. And of course, you had no choice but to listen unless you wanted another lecture about being a poor instrument of the Lord.
âSince when did you become a singer?â you teased as the two of you entered the church alongside a few parishioners and choir members.
Sana was dressed similarly to you, wearing a long skirt paired with a flowy long-sleeved blouse. In her right hand, she carried a small booklet filled with choir songs.
She pouted. âI can sing a bit, you know.â she opened the booklet and flipped through its pages. âAs long as Iâm serving the Lord, then no voice shall sound bad.â
You chuckled, already accustomed to her holy little remarks.
âIf you say so,â you sang back playfully, following her up to the choir loft. You offered a polite smile to the other choir members, who were already busy practicing.
Since you werenât actually there to join the choir, you let Sana focus on rehearsal while you wandered around the church on your own. Normally, you would have spent the entire time chatting her ear off, rambling about anything and everything, but today you let her concentrate.
A few parishioners were arranging fresh flowers around the framed images of saints, while others carefully dusted and polished the statues lining the church walls. The distant voices of the choir drifted through the air, blending with the soft murmur of prayers and quiet conversations, creating a peaceful atmosphere that settled gently around you.
When Sana first invited you to come with her to church, you had agreed out of nothing more than curiosity. You traded your usual weekend night outs for sunday mass, wanting to see the world through her eyes and understand why this place, with its quiet prayers and solemn rituals, meant so much to her.
The church offered a kind of quiet that rarely existed in your everyday life. Away from crowded parties, endless conversations, and the glittering chaos of your social circle, there was something unexpectedly comforting about this place. It gave you a chance to slow down, to breathe, and to simply exist without needing to be the loudest person in the room.
âGood morning, Fr. Jeon.â a few choir members and parishioners greeted.
You turned around absentmindedly, your head tilting curiously when you saw a priest entering through one of the church's side doors. Dressed in a long black cassock, he offered everyone a warm smile and a slight bow as he stepped inside.
A new priest?
âAre you here for the charity blessing, Fr. Jeon?â someone asked.
The woman approached him and received a gentle pat on the head in return.
He smiled. âYes, I stopped by to gather a few materials for the blessing.â
Your head tilted slightly as you watched him, finding yourself taking an unconscious step forward.
A handsome fucking priest.
For the past few months that you'd been spending time at the church with Sana, this was the first time you'd seen him, and unfortunately for your soul, he was ridiculously attractive.Â
You found yourself shamelessly staring, almost in awe as he greeted everyone with effortless kindness.Â
He bowed politely, acknowledged each person with a warm smile, and listened attentively whenever someone spoke to him. It should've been a crime for a priest to be that good-looking.Â
Sinful.
The long black cassock he wore looked attractively sinful wrapped around someone so impossibly holy, the stark contrast only making him harder to ignore. His sharp jawline became more pronounced whenever he turned to greet someone with a kind smile, and a pair of thin-framed glasses rested neatly on his nose, lending him an air of quiet intelligence that did absolutely nothing to help your situation. His eyes were dark and warm behind the lenses, attentive whenever he listened to someone speak, and his jet-black hair was styled neatly, though a few stubborn strands had fallen across his forehead.Â
Everything about him looked composed, dignified, and entirely inappropriate for the thoughts currently running through your head.
You almost let out a dramatic gasp when Fr. Jeon finally waved his goodbye and turned to leave. A curse nearly slipped from your lips as you watched him make his way toward the church doors.Â
Everyone else had managed to greet him and earn one of his warm smiles, some even receiving a fond pat on the head. Meanwhile, you had spent the entire time standing near the altar, staring at him like an absolute creep, too mesmerized by his existence.
Internally rolling your eyes at yourself and the sheer ridiculousness of the situation, you watched him disappear through the church doors. And then, because apparently your dignity had already left the building before he did, you immediately made your way back to Sana, who was still busy practicing her choir lines.
âSo...â you began, trailing behind Sana as she walked around with her booklet, quietly memorizing her choir pieces.
âIs Fr. Jeon a real priest?â
Sana lowered the booklet and stared at you, her brows knitting together as she caught the suspicious wiggle of your eyebrows.
âHuh?â
âI mean...â you hesitated. âIs he a real priest or, like⌠an intern priest?â
The moment the words left your mouth, you realized how stupid they sounded.Â
Was there even such a thing as a priest internship?
Sana blinked. Then she burst out laughing. âHe's a real priest, Y/N. What do you mean, intern priest?â
Your cheeks immediately warmed. You looked away while she continued laughing, lifting the booklet back up as you followed after her.
You pouted. âWell... he looks young.â And hot. âAnd I've never seen him before. Every time I've attended mass with you, he wasn't the presider.â
You tried to think back to the past few months but came up empty. No handsome priests. Because if there had been one, you definitely would've remembered.
In fact, you were pretty sure you would've started sitting in the front row.
âYeah, because he only got appointed recently,â Sana answered, her attention back on the booklet. âA few months ago, I think.â
You bit the inside of your cheek, almost groaning when you havenât met him before he got appointed.Â
What the fuck, Y/N. Are you seriously eyeing a priest?
Absolutely not. That was...unholy!
For the following weeks, you found yourself clinging to Sana more than usual.
At first, you convinced yourself it wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Going to church with her wasn't exactly new.Â
You just weren't nearly as consistent as she was.
There were plenty of sundays you skipped altogether, choosing late nights with your friends over early mornings in church. Besides, you figured there would always be another mass to attend, while convincing Sana to show up at one of your parties was practically impossible.
That was why you never attended as regularly as she did.
Lately, however, the situation seemed to have reversed. Now, you were the one volunteering to come.
Party invitations sat unanswered in your messages. Night outs were declined without hesitation. Instead, you found yourself asking Sana about choir practice, church activities, and whether she planned on volunteering for any upcoming events.
It was becoming a little concerning.
Wearing one of your now-usual long skirts and a modest blouse approved by church standards, you applied an extra layer of lip gloss in front of your mirror. Excitement bubbled inside you as you remembered what Sana had told you earlier that weekâa charity event was coming up, and the church needed volunteers to help organize donations.
There had been plenty of charity events before, many of which you had skipped. Sana would usually spend the entire day helping sort donations and assisting the parishioners, leaving little time for the two of you to actually spend together. As much as you enjoyed tagging along with her, wandering around the church by yourself for hours wasn't exactly appealing.
This time, however, you were genuinely excited to come.
It wasn't as though you couldn't visit the church on your own. Nobody would stop you if you decided to drop by one afternoon.
The problem was that it would be⌠strange.
Ever since you started coming to church, it had always been because of Sana. Everyone knew you as her friend, not as someone particularly devoted to the church.
If you suddenly started showing up by yourself every weekend, people would notice. You weren't exactly known for your devotion.Â
Especially when the answer involved a certain priest.
It was already strange enough that you were beginning to resemble a devoted Christian.
False piety.
When you arrived at the church, your heartbeat picked up immediately. Volunteers moved in and out of the building carrying boxes and supplies, conversations blending into a lively hum that filled the grounds.
âYou can help with the boxes, Y/N. I'll just talk to the choir members,â Sana said with a smile.
You nodded a little too eagerly, grateful she didnât question your sudden burst of interest in coming with her to church. It helped that you had accompanied her beforeâenough for it to not feel completely out of the blue.
âOkay! I'll help with the boxes!â you smiled brightly.
The moment Sana wandered off to join the other choir members, you immediately began looking around for ways to help.
âLet me carry those,â you offered with a bright smile, reaching for a volunteer struggling with a stack of old toy boxes meant for donation.
The woman thanked you and asked if you could bring them outside, where a small truck was parked to collect everything.
You happily agreed.
âI hope he comes today,â you muttered under your breath as you carried the boxes toward the truck, your eyes drifting toward the church entrance every few seconds.
According to Sana, Fr. Jeon frequently stopped by to check on donation drives, visit the parish office, or help coordinate volunteer work.
You had already carried nine boxes, then⌠ten. With every trip back and forth, you found yourself slowly losing hope that Fr. Jeon would show up at all. You were starting to regret wearing your cutest pink skirt today, and the growing disappointment was beginning to settle in alongside your irritation.
Just as you were about to accept that all your effort had been wasted, Fr. Jeon finally appeared, walking into the church hall.
Your eyes widened.
âFuckââ you immediately winced, biting your lip the moment the word escaped. Mentally apologizing for cursing inside the church.
With a fresh box of donations balanced in your arms, you hurried toward the entrance, trying your best to look useful, helpful and responsible. Like the kind of person who volunteered here regularly and wasn't secretly waiting for your handsome priest to show up.
Your heart hammered against your ribs when he finally glanced in your direction.
âGood day,â he greeted with a smile and a polite nod, raising his right hand to gently pat your head.
Your cheeks immediately flushed, almost dropping the boxes when he touched you.
He patted my head!
Today, he was dressed in a fitted black long-sleeved shirt tucked neatly into black slacks, a simple brown cross necklace resting against his chest. His jet-black hair was styled neatly away from his face, exposing a heart-shaped forehead that made him look unfairly handsome. He wore his usual pair of glasses, the thin frames resting on the bridge of his nose and softening the sharpness of his features. Behind the lenses, his round eyes looked steady and attentive, always observant, as if he noticed everything without ever needing to say so.Â
Goodness gracious.
Your gaze drifted lower, almost shamelessly staringâŚonly to pause on his right hand.
You frowned slightly, you wanted to take a longer look, but his sleeves hid the rest of his arms from view, making it impossible to tell how far they extended.
Was that a tattoo?
For some reason, that discovery stunned you more than it should have. Priests and tattoos weren't exactly a combination you'd ever imagined together.
You were so distracted staring at his hand that you didn't realize he had already walked past you and moved on to greet the other volunteers.
You didn't even greet him back! Oh God.
Panic immediately settled in your chest. Adjusting your grip on the donation box, you hurried after him, determined to salvage the interaction somehow. You just needed a reason to talk to him.Â
A simple religious question, maybe?
Unfortunately, your brain had chosen this exact moment to stop working.
You couldn't exactly walk up to him and ask if priests were allowed to have tattoos. Nor could you suddenly start quoting bible verses when the majority of your religious knowledge came from Sana lecturing you every other week.
You wanted to sound natural and virginal.
The problem was that you had absolutely no idea how to start a holy conversation without sounding fake about it, like you were trying too hard to be someone you werenât.
When you saw him entering the church office, you frowned and stomped your foot against the floor in irritation.
Pity.
You were a bit disappointed when his gaze didnât even linger on you. You were used to boys in college always noticing youâŚshowing their interest, getting swayed by your pretty face and charming personality. But here, inside the church, you were nothing more than another kind volunteer in his eyesâsomeone he greeted with the same calm respect he gave everyone else.
Importunate.
At this point, it had become a routine. You would come to church with Sana after school, grateful she had joined the choir because it gave you an excuse to be there almost every day instead of only on weekends.
While she attended rehearsals, you spent your afternoons helping with volunteer work and assisting the parishioners...all while discreetly searching the church grounds for your future boyfriend.
You even started dressing for itâslipping into the most âvirginalâ outfits your closet could offer in hopes of blending in. Long skirts, conservative blouses, dresses that covered everything they possibly could. It was almost laughable how much effort you put into looking like the perfect church girl, when a few months ago you wouldâve rather died than be seen in half of these outfits.
The worst part was that it wasn't even guaranteed to work.
There were days when your timing simply didn't align. You would arrive at the church only to hear that Fr. Jeon had already stopped by earlier, or spend the afternoon helping around the parish before finding out he had come and gone while you were busy elsewhere. Sometimes you would leave just before he arrived, missing him by mere minutes.
You would come home without seeing even a glimpse of him, staring at your ceiling later that night and wondering why you felt so deflated over someone you barely knew.Â
Then there were the good daysâwhen your schedules happened to align and you finally saw him. Your eyes would immediately light up the moment you spotted him across the church grounds, your smile growing brighter despite your attempts to act normal, your cheeks burning whenever he greeted you with that gentle smile and absentminded pat on the head.
Transgression.
At first, seeing him had been enough. Now, however, you found yourself expecting more. Not much...just a conversation that lasted longer than a few seconds. Something beyond charity drives, donation boxes, retreats, and volunteer work.
But Fr. Jeon was frustratingly...polite.
He greeted everyone with the same kindness, smiled at everyone with the same warmth, and spoke to everyone with the same respectful attentiveness. Whenever you managed to stand near him long enough for a conversation, he would ask about the charity, the donations, the volunteers, or whatever church event happened to be coming up next.Â
The discussion always remained firmly within the boundaries of church matters, and before you knew it, he would excuse himself to continue helping elsewhere.
You couldn't even ask him anything personal. Every question that came to mind sounded ridiculous the moment you imagined saying it out loud. Are those tattoos real? How old are you? Why are you so handsome for a priest?Â
None of them exactly sounded appropriate for church conversation.
So you remained stuck in this strange little cycle of yours, coming to church almost everyday with hopes far bigger than the interactions you actually received. And despite how ridiculous it felt, despite how much you scolded yourself for it, the highlight of your day was still that brief smile and the weight of his hand resting atop your head for a few seconds.
Shameful.
A shame that you had never actually talked to him.Â
Not beyond a few good afternoons exchanged in passing and the occasional greeting whenever your paths crossed around the church.Â
You didn't want to be too bold, afraid that he would notice your embarrassingly obvious attempts to get his attention. As someone who wasn't particularly religious, you found yourself in an absurd predicament.Â
Should you start reading the bible? Memorize a few scriptures? Learn enough about church teachings to hold an intelligent conversation with him?Â
The fact that you were even considering studying scripture just to impress a priest made you question every life decision that had led you to this point.
You wanted his eyes to linger on you. Wanted him to look at you a little longer than everyone else. Wanted to feel special in some way. But every time your gaze met his, he would simply smile and move on, his attention never staying in one place for too long.Â
Sometimes you wondered if the only thing capable of holding his complete devotion was God himself.
Which was unfortunate for you. Because you were used to being noticed.
You were pretty, and you knew it. Attention had always come easily to you, yet the one man whose attention you wanted most remained completely out of reach.
A man who was distant, unattainable, and forbidden in every possible sense of the word.
Standing in front of your mirror that afternoon, you smoothed down your floral dress and examined your reflection one last time. The modest dress fell neatly against your figure, paired with white kitten heels that made you look far more innocent than you actually were. You dabbed a little extra blush onto your cheeks before adding a touch more glitter to your eyelids, your excitement growing as you remembered what Sana had told you earlier that week.
Fr. Jeon would be presiding over today's mass.
It would be the first mass of his that you would be attending, and as you stared at yourself in the mirror, unable to stop smiling, you realized your excitement felt dangerously close to the kind of anticipation one would have before a date.
Sana had noticed that you were coming with her far more often nowadays, but being as naive and obedient as she was, she only took it as a good sign. In her eyes, your heart was simply getting closer to God, closer to faith, closer to something pure and meaningful.
Closer to Fr. Jeon, rather.
âYou look excited,â she said with a soft smile, her eyes twinkling when you mentioned wanting to sit in the front row. The thought only made her happier, convinced that your devotion was finally deepening in the way she had always hoped for you.
Oh, you were devoted.Â
âExcited for the Mass, you know,â you replied with a small giggle, clasping your hands together as if to sell the image. âWonder what bible chapter will be discussed today.â
Of course you were gonna listen, be a good little church girl and have your eyes and attention to him.
Your eyes were practically shining when you stepped into the church, making a beeline for the front row without hesitation. You sat down shamelessly, smoothing your skirt as if you had done this every sunday of your life.
Sana only smiled at your eagerness, completely oblivious to the fact that your decision had nothing to do with spiritual focus and everything to do with proximity. Sitting at the front felt less like devotion and more like VIP seating for the sole purpose of seeing Fr. Jeon up close.
When the bell finally rang, the entire church rose to its feet. Your heart kicked up immediately as the sacristans entered in procession, one of them carrying a smoking thurible that swung gently with each step. And right at the center of it all was him.
Your future boyfriend.
Your lips parted slightly, eyes widening as Fr. Jeon walked slowly down the nave with calm, deliberate steps. His hands were clasped together in front of him in prayer, and he wore the full liturgical vestmentsâa long white linen robe beneath a green chasuble, a thin stole draped over his shoulders, and a cincture tied neatly at his waist. The fabric moved softly as he walked, making him look almost unreal under the church lights, like something out of a painting you werenât supposed to stare at for too long.
He greeted people with gentle smiles along the way, bowing his head politely, even pausing to pat a few children on the head as he passed the pews.
By the time he reached the altar, your attention was fully locked in.Â
Disingenuous.
You nodded a little too eagerly when responses were required, your voice coming out brighter than necessary during the choir parts, as if enthusiasm alone could prove your devotion. Every time he spoke, your focus sharpened, hanging onto his words a little too intently, even when you were supposed to be blending in with the rest of the congregation.
He was wearing his usual pair of glasses, slowly turning the pages of the bible with precise, practiced movements. His voice was steady and clear as he read, each word delivered with a calm authority that made it clear this role suited him completely. There was nothing rushed about him, nothing uncertain.. only a quiet certainty in the way he stood at the altar, as if it had always belonged to him.
By now, you had started mirroring him without even realizing it. Whenever he closed his eyes to say the prayers, you would close yours too, hands folded a little tighter than necessary, breathing in sync with the rhythm of the mass.
You were fucking crazy.
When it was time for the holy communion, you stood up almost too quickly, your heart thudding loudly in your chest as you joined the line forming in the aisle. Each step forward felt heavier than it should have, not because of the sacrament itself, but because of who was waiting near the altar.
âAre you alright?â Sana commented quietly when she noticed your flushed expression after the bell rang.
You let out a small, awkward laugh and instinctively smoothed down your long hair, trying to compose yourself. âJust thinking about my prayers,â you said lightly, as if that explanation made any sense at all.
She gasped, like you were really serious about your prayers, when all you could think about wasâ
Heâs gonna feed me the host!
You were almost sweating as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, feeling the moment inch closer with every step in the line. Sanaâs voice was still beside you, something about God always listening and having faith in his timing, but her words barely registered anymore. Your mind was elsewhere entirely, stuck on the growing realization that you were seconds away from facing him directly.
Preparing your hands in a prayer position, your brain almost short-circuited when you finally faced him, his right tatted hand holding the host up for you.
âThe Body of Christ,â he said in a soft tone, almost detached in its reverence.
You wanted him to recognize youâthe obedient good girl who always volunteered at the church. But fuck, he was too absorbed in God and the communion.
Your lips parted. âAmenâŚâ
When he finally fed you the host, you almost choked when you felt the slight, accidental brush of his index finger against your lips as he withdrew his hand. You were left completely flustered, while he remained composed and focused on the ritual, seemingly unaware of the effect he had on you.
To you, it felt intimate.Â
To him, it was simply the EucharistâŚa sacred duty, a practiced motion repeated countless times.
When you returned to your seat and lowered yourself to kneel again, you pressed your hands together a little too tightly. In your head, you immediately apologized to God for every impure thought, questionable intention, and shameless moment you had done.
Then, without even a full second of self-reflection, you proceeded to ask if he could somehow let you be a little closer to Fr. Jeon.
Your priorities were clearly a work in progress.
âSana, are you gonna visit the church this week?â you asked with a small smile, falling into your usual habit of checking with her.
For the past few weeks, your afternoons and weekends had quietly reshaped themselves around her schedule.Â
It had become something strangely comforting⌠helping wherever you could, spending hours in a place that once felt unfamiliar but was now slowly turning into routine.
But of course, you couldnât deny that recently, there was another reason woven into it too.
âNope,â Sana replied as she hugged her books closer to her chest. âI have to study this week. Finals are coming up, and I still have a chemistry exam to review for before vacation starts.â
You groaned softly and walked beside her as the two of you left the campus. âThen why donât we just stop by for a bit? To pray for good grades?â you suggested, lifting a brow as if it was the most logical solution in the world.
Please. Please. Please agree with me.
Sana pouted, clearly considering it for a moment, and your heart almost stopped in anticipation. Then she shook her head slowly, and your excitement deflated instantly.
âYouâre right,â she said gently, âbut itâs a long test, Y/N. I need to review all week. God would understand.â
She smiled softly and slipped her arm through yours. âLetâs just pray at home and do the rosary before reviewing.â
You forced a small smile, though your shoulders sagged slightly at the realization. It wasnât just a missed church visitâit was a missed chance, even if you kept telling yourself it wasnât supposed to be about that.
Sure, you would probably still see Fr. Jeon at sunday mass. He was the new presider in the city now, after all.
But it still wasnât the same.
You almost groaned when you found yourself at the church that saturday morning. You were wearing a cream-colored dress, kitten heels, and a rosary necklace you had recently bought for the sole purpose of impressing Fr. Jeon. You had no idea whether he would even notice it, but in your mind, it felt like the kind of thing a good church girl would wear.
Preposterous.
Sashaying your way inside, you took in the usual parishioners and volunteers already busy arranging boxes for the charity drive.
You bit your lip. This was your first time visiting the church without Sana. Still, as you walked in, you were relieved when a few volunteers recognized you.
Thank God and all the saints.
You smiled and bent down to help with the boxes, already familiar with the routineâcarrying them to the truck, sorting old clothes and toys, or helping with the lists.
If any of your uni friends saw you here alone, they would be completely confused. Without Sana, your sudden appearance at church would make absolutely no sense.
âGood day, Fr. Jeon.â someone greeted, and your ears immediately perked up. You turned just in time to see him entering the church halls in his usual black long sleeves and slacks.
You were only on your third box today! He was early!
Your lips curled into a small, excited smile as you instinctively stepped closer, box still in hand, already anticipating the familiar greeting and gentle pat on the head.
âGood day,â he said as expected, offering a polite nod before his hand lifted to pat your head.
Your eyelashes fluttered.
But instead of letting him move on to greet the othersâŚfor the first time in the past few weeks, you actually gathered the courage to stop him.
âUh, Fr. Jeon?â you called softly just as he was about to turn away.
He paused, tilting his head slightly. âYes, sweetheart?â
Jesusâ God in heaven.
Your cheeks instantly reddened at the nickname, fingers tightening around the box. Still, you forced yourself to breathe, and finally blurted out the question you had been rehearsing all night.
âJust wondering if you have any c-chapter recommendations? Iâm currently reading the bible and I donât know where to start,â you said shyly.
There was a brief flicker of pleasant surprise on his face, quietly impressed that you were asking about the bible in the first place. It wasn't often that someone approached him with genuine curiosity about scripture.
He was about to answer when, suddenlyâŚhis attention shifted.
His gaze drifted downward, landing on the rosary hanging around your neckâthe small cross resting between your breasts.
His lips pursed. âSweetheartâŚrosaries are not meant to be worn as necklaces,â he chuckled softly, his eyes lingering on the rosary before looking back at you.
Your eyes widened. âI-Itâs notâŚ?â you asked, your ears and neck already heating in embarrassment.
Fuck. You didnât know that!Â
Fr. Jeon exhaled gently. âItâs a prayer tool,â he explained, his tone patient and calm. âMeant to be held in the hands⌠used in prayer, not displayed like jewelry.â
You blinked. âI-I didnât know,â you admitted quickly, almost defensively. âI just really⌠like rosaries.â
Deception.
Fr. Jeon sighed softly, then lifted a hand to gently pat your head. âItâs okayâŚif you want, you can still wear rosary bracelets.â he offered you a small, reassuring smile.
You almost melted at his kindness. âR-Right, that would be better,â you said shyly, barely keeping yourself together.
He chuckled softly at your reaction, adjusting his glasses before finally returning to your original question. âIf youâre reading the bible,â he added at last, âstart with the gospels. Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.â
You nodded quickly, smiling up at him as he returned a warm, genuine smile of his own.
âNoted, Fr. Jeon.â you smiled, unconsciously stepping a little closer. â...Uhm, d-do you have a bible in your office, Father?â you asked shyly, doing your best to sound innocent and academically curious.Â
The moment the question left your mouth, you almost mentally slapped yourself.
Of course he has a bible in his office!
You opened your mouth, ready to rephrase the question, to save yourself from the embarrassment of sounding so foolishâbut Fr. Jeon answered before you could.
âI do have a few bible collections in my officeâŚwould you like to see them?â Fr. Jeon offered, gesturing gently toward the church office.
You dropped the boxes. âOh, my-â
Your plan actually worked!
Your eyes widened in horror. Mortified, you immediately bent down to pick them up, only to find Fr. Jeon already reaching for them.
âCareful, sweetheart,â he chuckled softly, lifting the boxes with ease as if they weighed nothing. âLet me carry these.â
âS-Sorry, it was kinda heavy,â you reasoned out, your neck already turning red. You still couldnât believe you were actually having a full conversation with him.
And now he was even taking you to his office!
The Lord had truly answered your prayers.
With a polite smile, Fr. Jeon handed the boxes to the truck before gesturing for you to follow him toward the office.
âI can let you borrow a few scriptures if youâd like. I have the new version of the bibleâwould you want that?â Fr. Jeon asked as he reached into his pocket for his office keys.
You nodded immediately, hands clasping together behind your back. âUh, yeah. That would be heavenly!â
Heavenly? For Christâs sake, Y/N.
Fr. Jeon only smiled at that, unlocking and opening the office door as if he were letting you step into a space you had no right to be so excited about.
Pious.
You had done your research last nightâit had been difficult since he was such a private person, but you had managed to learn a few things.
Fr. Jeon had been ordained only six months ago and was now officially assigned as the priest of your cityâs parish, something you were embarrassingly looking forward to.
He was twenty-eight. He had studied arts before eventually pursuing theology. There were only a handful of photos of him onlineâŚmostly seminarian group pictures, a few formal ones where he wasnât wearing his usual cassock, though he was always in long sleeves.
You had even found one rare image where he had rolled his sleeve slightly during a group photo, revealing part of a tattoo on his arm beneath a white long-sleeve shirt and a cross necklace.
âFuck⌠heâs hiding all that under his sleeves?â you had muttered to yourself last night, squinting at the screen and trying to find moreâŚonly to realize there was barely anything else. No social media, no casual photos, nothing.
âTake a seat here. Iâll get the books for you,â Fr. Jeon said now, smiling as he gestured toward the small couch in front of his desk.
You nodded and sat down obediently, trying very hard to look like a good parish girl.Â
His office was quiet and orderly in a way that immediately made you straighten your posture. The walls were lined with wooden bookshelves filled with thick religious texts, bible editions, theological commentaries, and neatly stacked parish documents. A simple desk sat against one side, organized and uncluttered, with a few folders, a pen holder, and a small lamp.
In the center of the room, mounted on the wall above the desk, hung a large crucifixâchrist on the crossâwatching over everything in silent stillness. The soft light from the window fell across it gently, making the entire room feel even more solemn, almost sacred.
Yet your thoughts were nowhere near sacred. You were here to attempt a very dangerous, carnal sin.
Seduction.
Masked in your perfect good-girl appearance, wondering if you could crack that unshakable composure he wore so effortlesslyâif you could make his calm, holy restraint finally slip.
You slowly stood up from the couch while his back remained turned, focused on his bible scriptures. Your head tilted slightly as you tried to make it look as innocent as possibleâŚto enter his space without revealing your true, sinful intentions.
âFr. Jeon,â you called softly, standing too close behind him.
You needed to converse, to interact with him, to get him interestedâto show him how much you adored God as much as he did.
âHmm?â He didnât glance at you, still focused on the scriptures.
You pouted, slowly taking a peek at what he was doing. âI was wondering if I could just read the bible here instead of borrowing itâŚ.â you attempted softly. âThat way, if thereâs something I donât understand⌠I can ask you about it right away.â you said in a sweet, suggestive tone.
Fr. Jeon glanced at you, subtly stepping back when he realized you were right behind him, your vanilla scent brushing his senses.
He paused for a moment, looking into your hopeful eyes.Â
âHmm,â he hummed thoughtfully, a small smile appearing on his face. âThat's actually a good idea. Understanding scripture is easier when you can discuss it with someone. If I'm here, feel free to ask me anything you're confused about.â
Providence.
You smiled brightly, feeling your relationship with him finally take another step forward.
âThat would be great! Thank you, Fr. Jeon,â you said, tilting your head and giving him one of your most charming smiles.
It was absurd.
After your finals, you were granted a two-month semestral break, and instead of using that time to party, travel with friends, or go on night outs, you had spent nearly all of it at the church.Â
Sana, unfortunately, never questioned your growing interest. She was too kind to question your faith.
Over the next few weeks, your afternoons were spent in the parish office, reading scripture, flipping through commentaries, and waiting for the familiar sound of the office door opening.
During those weeks, you managed to have a few small talks with him whenever he stopped by. You learned that he visited the church every dayâŚsometimes to pray, sometimes to help with ongoing charity work, hear confessions, or simply check on the church office before moving on to his next responsibility.
Hearing about his schedule made you quietly adjust your own, ensuring you arrived at the office around 3 p.m.âthe time he usually came in to check mails and paperwork at his office.
Today, you were wearing a baby blue dress that flowed nicely around your ankles, trimmed with delicate lace at the hem. Your hair was tied in a half ponytail with a blue ribbon, your makeup subtle, and your kitten heels matching the softness of your outfit.
Sana didnât come with you every day anymoreâshe had other âholyâ activities outside the church, like charity visits, helping at retreat houses, touring other churches, and even climbing mountains to visit shrines and statues.Â
You had politely declined most of those invitations, telling her you found comfort in staying within your churchâs city.
Disingenuous.
The rhythm between you had become almost routine. You would come to the office in the afternoons, sit down with a bible, and quietly read while asking him occasional questions whenever something didnât make sense.Â
Fr. Jeon would remain at his desk, either going through papers or reading his own scripture in silence. The room would stay mostly quiet, filled with the soft turning of pages and the steady presence of his focus, as if the world outside didnât quite reach either of you in that space.
Sometimes you would try to steer the conversation a little further, testing small openings beyond scripture, but it always naturally circled back to the same thingsâbible passages, God, charity work, church matters⌠anything within that same unspoken boundary of the holy.
Yet, that alone felt like a privilegeâbeing allowed into the quiet rhythm of his office, as if you belonged there too.
âGood day, Fr. Jeon. I brought some snacks for you,â you said with a smile as you entered the churchâs office.
As usual, he was sitting at his desk, wearing his framed glasses while reading some papers.
You walked toward him and held up a small box of cookies you had gladly baked. âI made theseâŚkind of like a thank-you gift for letting me stay here in the office,â you said proudly.
During your free time, you had spent the entire afternoon baking cookies for Fr. Jeon, thinking it would be a nice thank-you gift for him. At first, you had even wanted to decorate them with cute frosting faces of Jesus, convinced it would make you look extra devoted in his eyes.
Unfortunately, after staring at your frosting bag for ten minutes, you realized it might look a little too....performative.
So, with great reluctance, you abandoned your tiny Jesus-face cookie idea and settled for regular chocolate chip cookies instead.
The result sat neatly inside the box you now held out to him, carefully packed and decorated with far more effort than necessary.
Fr. Jeon looked at the cookies, his head tilting slightly when he noticed the box was covered in heart stickers. A soft smile formed on his lips, quietly touched by your kindness.
âThatâs very kind of you, sweetheart.â he said softly, taking the box before looking up at you from his swivel chair. âThank you, Y/N.â
Your cheeks flushed, making you feel like a schoolgirl finally noticed by your crush.
âNo worries, Fr. Jeon⌠besides, I really like reading the bible here! it feels comforting,â you said, leaning in slightly as if to emphasize your point. âAnd thank you⌠you really help me understand it better when I get confused,â you added softly, fluttering your lashes at him.
He blinked slowly, clearly caught off guard by your sweet smile and the way you leaned in, his usual composure faltering for a brief moment as he paused.
âNo...no problem sweetheart.â he said with a small smile. âIâm⌠glad you find comfort here. God will always find a way to comfort our souls.â
You smiled sheepishly and sat down on the small couch in front of his desk. âHmm, I knowâŚI always pray whenever Iâm overwhelmed, somehow talking to God really helps me.â you said thoughtfully, even if you had only learned those kinds of phrases from Sana.
Fr. Jeon nodded quietly, he didnât expect you to be this devoted.
You were very pure, kind, and charming. He had always noticed you volunteering at the church with your friend Sanaâyou would help with the boxes, sit around during her choir sessions, sometimes simply sit in the pew as if the presence of the church alone was enough for you.
It wasnât hard to notice you. You were pretty and graceful, always smiling at everyone, carrying a soft, composed presence whenever he saw you at the church in your long skirts and modest blousesâlike a quiet image of devotion itself.Â
Despite that, his eyes never lingered.Â
Always composed, always measuredâŚbecause anything longer than a passing glance felt like something he shouldnât allow himself.
Ever since you asked him about the bible that day, he had been quietly amazed. Nowadays, very few people showed genuine interest in scripture, let alone someone your age.Â
Seeing your devotionâor what he believed was devotionâŚfilled him with a warmth he hadn't expected. It was rare to meet someone so eager to learn more about God.
What he didn't realize was that your sweet, holy little plan had been working all along.
And what you didn't realize was that your sweetness, your smiles, your carefully built innocenceâhad been working from the very beginning.
You were so focused on the fact that his eyes never lingered, so convinced that he remained untouched by your presence, that you failed to see the subtle effect you had already left behind.
âWhat do you do during your free time, Fr. Jeon?â you asked casually one friday afternoon, trying your best to sound merely curious rather than interested.Â
You had spent weeks keeping your questions safely within the boundaries of scripture. Careful not to reveal how badly you wanted to know the man behind the collar.Â
So you kept your tone light and innocent, as though it were nothing more than a harmless question that had happened to cross your mind.
Fr. Jeon's head tilted slightly. He was sitting across from you at the small coffee table inside his office, a bible resting in his hands just like yours.Â
âI visit charities,â he answered lightly. âI usually stay there for a while and spend time with the children.â a fond smile crossed his face at the memory.
Your lips parted. Oh! still religious.
âHow about you, sweetheart?â Fr. Jeon asked.
You quickly searched for a suitably holy answer. âUmm, I-I sometimes climb mountains to visit shrines and blessed statues,â you said, biting your lip as you recalled one of Sana's favorite religious activities.
Fr. Jeon nodded thoughtfully, visibly impressedâŚhis expression softening as if genuinely moved that you spent your free time in service of the Lord.
âWhat a good girl you are,â he said softly.Â
His eyes lifted to meet yours for a brief momentâjust long enough to make your heart stumbleâŚbefore he looked away first, a small smile forming on his lips that he quickly hid as he lowered his gaze back to the bible.
Your lips parted slightly, warmth rushing to your cheeks at the compliment.
Good girl. Oh to be called his good girl.
Even though Sana had been busy lately with her other holy activities, you didn't mind attending mass alone. In fact, you were more than happy sitting in the front row.Â
Your eyes would sparkle whenever Fr. Jeon spoke, your heart thumping whenever his gaze swept across the congregation and briefly met yours.
It always felt like a small victory, as though he was finally acknowledging you, finally noticing you.
âThe Body of Christ.â Fr. Jeon held up the host.
âAmen,â you replied softly.
Unlike before, however, his gaze briefly lowered to meet yours. It lasted only a moment, accompanied by a small smile, but it was enough to make your heart skip a beat.
Enthralled.
Little by little, the distance between you seemed to shrink. The walls around him no longer felt quite as impenetrable as they once had.
Overtime, you had finally managed to crack through the edges of his usual reserve. What started as strictly scripture and charity talk had slowly, almost imperceptibly, begun to shift into something more personal.Â
You learned how he first became interested in the priesthood, how his mother had served in the church, and how deeply devoted his family was to their faith. You even found the courage to ask about his tattoos, discovering they came from his love for art long before he pursued theology.
In return, you had shared little pieces of yourself as wellâyour hobbies, your favorite things, your likes and dislikes. Of course, you were careful to sprinkle in a little extra holiness whenever you could, always eager to impress him and maintain the image he seemed to have of you.
Fr. Jeon enjoyed your presence. It was refreshing to converse with someone who seemed to share the same interest and devotion that he held so dearly.
As the weeks passed, he found himself quietly looking forward to your visits, anticipating the familiar sound of your voice drifting into his office each afternoon. After all, you had always been naturally playful and talkative, and somehow⌠your constant babbling had become a welcome part of his routine.
It had been a month since you started spending your afternoons in his office. Upon entering, you found him sitting at the coffee table instead of his desk. Scattered across the table were several small boxes in different colors.
Curious, you stepped inside, your usual box of homemade cookies in handâthe same kind you brought him every week.
âWhatâs that, Fr. Jeon?â you asked, taking a seat across from him and placing the cookies on the table.
Fr. Jeon looked up and smiled. âWhen's your birthday, sweetheart?â
You blinked, a question that was out of the blueâlike you were on a date, and he was casually getting to know you.
Your cheeks immediately flushed, you told him your birth date, unable to hide the slight confusion in your voice.
Fr. Jeon nodded thoughtfully before reaching for one of the small boxes on the table.
There were twelve of them in total, each a different color. Pink, purple, green, blue, yellow, and several others.
âThis would be your birthstone color then,â he said with a fond smile, handing you the box that matched your birth month.
Confused, you picked up the box and slowly opened it.
A small rosary bracelet rested inside.
Your heart began thumping so loudly you could hear it in your ears as you remembered the conversation from weeks agoâŚwhen he had gently corrected you and told you that rosaries weren't meant to be worn as necklaces.
âT-This is for me?â you asked, eyes wide and sparkling.
Fr. Jeon smiled softly. âYes, sweetheart. I didn't know your birthday, so I bought all twelve colors,â he admitted with a small chuckle, glancing at the remaining boxes on the table.
It was such a simple gift, yet your heart fluttered stupidly in your chest. Somehow, this meant more than the flowers, chocolates, teddy bears, and expensive jewelry your admirers had given you before.
Before you could stop yourself, you rose from your seat and threw your arms around him.
Fr. Jeon froze in surprise, his eyes widened as you suddenly closed the distance between you. The force of the hug nearly made him lose his balance in the chair as your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders.
âThank you, Fr. Jeon...so sweet of you.â you murmured, overwhelmed with happiness.
He gulped harshly. It had been a long time since he had been touched by a woman.
Not accidentally in a crowded place. Not a polite handshake after mass. Not a brief greeting exchanged out of courtesy.
A long time.
His heart raced against his ribs as your arms wrapped tightly around his neck. Your hot breath fanned softly against his collar, carrying the familiar scent of vanilla that had become impossible for him not to recognize. The closeness was overwhelming in a way he hadn't expected, making him painfully aware of how little physical affection existed in his life.
His hands hovered awkwardly in the air for a moment before gripping the edge of the table instead. Every instinct told him to return the gesture, to place a comforting hand against your back and reassure you, but he remained still, forcing himself to hold onto his composure.
âYou're welcome, sweetheart.â Fr. Jeon rasped, his voice coming out rougher than usual.
When you finally pulled away, you smiled brightly and sat back down in your chair, immediately slipping the bracelet onto your wrist.
Meanwhile, he remained frozen for a moment, trying to swallow away the lingering awareness of your closeness. The warmth of your embrace, your breath against his collar, the brief press of your breasts against him.
The hug had been innocent, sweet and harmless.
Which only made it worse.
Because he had no reason to be affected by it at all. He found himself quietly unsettled by the fact that he had needed to restrain himself in a moment that should have been nothing more than simple gratitude.
Temptation.
The next day, you proudly wore the rosary bracelet he had given you. You had even chosen a dress that matched its color, complete with a ribbon in your hair to tie everything together.
When you entered his office, you found Fr. Jeon standing by the bookshelves, a scripture in one hand. His glasses rested low on his nose as he read through a passage.
Immediately, you raised your wrist and showed off the bracelet. âLook,â you said with a grin.
Fr. Jeon glanced down, you were already twirling in place, eager to show him how the bracelet matched your dress.
Pretty.
The thought came so naturally that he frowned at himself.
âGood day, Y/N.â he replied, forcing his attention away from the observation.
You smiled brightly and wriggled your wrist. âI matched the bracelet with my dress and ribbon, see?â
Turning in a small circle again, you proudly showed off the entire outfit.
Fr. Jeon watched for a brief moment before lowering his gaze. Lately, he had become far too aware of things he shouldn't be noticing.
How pretty you looked whenever you walked into his office, how your face lit up whenever you talked to him, how easily your excitement filled the room.
Even your long dressesâsoft fabric falling gently to your ankles, lace details tracing along the edgesâŚbegan to feel distracting in a way he could not fully explain or justify.Â
Turning innocent things into distractions. The modesty that should have protected his thoughts was beginning to have the opposite effect, making him painfully aware of the woman hidden beneath layers of fabric and lace.
Perhaps it was because it had been so long since he had allowed himself to be this close to a woman. Years spent in seminaries, rectories, church offices, and ministry had made him accustomed to a life of distance and discipline. He had grown comfortable in it.
Until you.
âGlad you like it, sweetheart,â he said at last, forcing a small smile before returning his attention to the scripture in his hands.
It was easier to focus on the page than on the way you were still standing there, smiling at him as if he had just given you the greatest gift in the world.
You giggled and stepped a little closer. âYou know, I didnât remove the bracelet yet⌠Iâm planning on wearing it forever.â
Fr. Jeon raised a brow at that, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.
âReally?â he asked, unable to hide the delightfulness in his voice.
âYes! I didnât even remove it when I took a bath,â you giggled, smiling at him with pure adoration.
His brows furrowed slightly at what you had just said, but before he could stop himself, a faint flush crept across his cheeks.
Test of faith.
His mind betrayed him for a brief second, wandering toward the image of you showering while still wearing the bracelet he had given you, carefully keeping it on even then. The thought was so sudden and inappropriate that he immediately felt ashamed.
He gulped harshly, disappointed in himself. He would have to repent later and ask the Lord for forgiveness for allowing such a crude thought to cross his mind.
Fr. Jeon could not entertain that desire. It was forbidden, a temptation that needed to be buried and forgotten before it could take root.
Yet despite the turmoil quietly unfolding inside him, he weakly reached over and gently patted your head.
His heart immediately thumped against his ribs when your eyes lifted to meet his, shining with unmistakable adoration at the simple gesture.
You beamed at him...letting out a small, delighted giggle that softened the moment even further.
Craving.
The past few weeks had been exhausting. As the city's new presider, he had been buried beneath paperwork and responsibilities. The church had also been flooded with parishioners seeking confession, and the lines seemed to grow longer with each passing day.
Hundreds of voices had passed through the confessional since then, each carrying their own sins, burdens, and regrets. Most of them faded from memory the moment absolution was given.
Yours hadn't.
Fr. Jeon leaned back in his chair and stared at the crucifix hanging on the office wall. The afternoon sunlight filtered through the window, casting long shadows across the room.
He had spent years strengthening his faith, disciplining his mind, and dedicating himself entirely to the Lord. Yet lately, all it took was a sweet smile, an innocent touch, or the sound of your voice to shake that discipline.
Closing his eyes, he lowered his head.
"Lord, forgive me," he murmured quietly.
A threat to his devotion.
-
âOuch, fuck,â you groaned, pulling the tray of cookies out of the oven.
You were baking a fresh batch for Fr. Jeon today, trying out a larger baking tray than usual so you could make more cookies at once. Unfortunately, the experiment immediately backfired.
As you bent down to take the tray out, the hot metal edge accidentally brushed against your inner thigh. You winced, pouting as you watched your skin slowly turn red.
âThis looks so bad,â you murmured, setting the tray of cookies down on the counter.
Luckily, you had been wearing long skirts these days.
Prepping the boxes of cookies you had baked, you decided to wear a purple long lacey skirt paired with a cute ruffled top. Your hair was styled into low pigtail braids, each tied with a ribbon at the ends. Holding the box carefully, you frowned slightly when you felt the bandage rubbing against your swollen skin.
âGood day, Fr. Jeon, I got you cookies!â you beamed.
You noticed he had become even busier after being appointed as the cityâs official presider, though you didnât realize he had been deliberately drowning himself in paperworkâanything to keep his thoughts from drifting where they shouldnât.
âGood day, Y/N,â he replied, glancing up for only a brief moment to return your smile before his attention went back to the documents in front of him.
You frowned slightly and placed the box of cookies on the table in front of him. âGot you a different flavor! Itâs red velvet this time,â you said, pointing at the box with a small, proud smile.
Fr. Jeon glanced at them, warmth flickering in his chest before he quickly pushed it down.
âThank you, Y/N⌠thatâs very kind of you,â he said gently, his tone careful, as though he was trying to place distance even while accepting your kindness.
You pouted almost immediately. The response felt far too brief for someone who had spent the morning baking for him.
Wanting his attention back on you, you shifted your weight and played with the ends of your braid, searching for something that would pull his focus away from the paperwork on his desk.
âYou know⌠I even got burned earlier because I used a bigger tray and it hit me,â you said with a small chuckle, watching him carefully for a reaction. âBut itâs fine, Iâm just worried it might leave a mark,â you added with a light giggle, unable to hide the hopeful note in your voice as you waited for him to look at you again.
That got his attention immediately.
His brows furrowed as he looked up from the papers, concern breaking through the careful distance he had been trying to maintain. His eyes instinctively moved to your hands, searching for any sign of injury.
âWhere is it? Let me see,â Fr. Jeon said, the concern in his voice unmistakable. His gaze lingered on your fingers and wrists, unable to find the burn he was looking for.
You had to fight the smile threatening to appear.
Slowly, you made your way around the table until you were standing beside him. From his swivel chair, he tilted his head back to follow your movement, his attention still fixed on your hands.
âItâs not there, Fr. JeonâŚâ you said softly. âHere...â
A small giggle escaped you as you gently lifted the hem of your long skirt.Â
His eyes widened instantly, panic flashing across his face before he could hide it. Before you could lift your skirt any higher, his hand shot forward on instinct, wrapping around your wrist to stop you.
âW-What are you doing?â he asked, nearly choking on the words.
The reaction was immediate, almost alarmed, as though the sight of you standing there with your hands on your skirt had caught him completely off guard. His grip wasn't harsh, but it was firm enough to halt your movement, his composure visibly rattled.
âI burned my thighs, Fr. Jeon⌠see?â you said innocently, lifting the fabric just enough to reveal the bandage wrapped beneath.
His lips parted at the sight, momentarily stunned.
The bandage sat against your soft thighs, the realization of how close he was to something so private making his mind go blank for a second.Â
He had never seen so much of you like this beforeânot this close, not this exposed in such an unguarded, unexpected way.
Your thighs looked so soft, pink and smooth⌠faintly marked by the redness around the bandage, drawing attention to how tightly you had wrapped it.Â
âIt hurts a little,â you pouted, pointing at it.
His throat tightened as he swallowed hard, his gaze immediately faltering. Behind his glassesâŚhis pupils were dilated, his ears and neck flushing red. His hands gripped the sides of his swivel chair tightly, as though grounding himself in place.
âY-You wrapped it wrong,â he managed to say at last, his voice strained. He cleared his throat and forced his attention elsewhere, brows furrowing as he tried to recover his composure.
You tilted your head. âI did?â you looked down, trying to check your bandage when he suddenly stood up.
âI-I have a first aid kit in my cabinet. Sit in my swivel chair...I-Iâll wrap it for you,â he said quickly, already turning away from you as if creating distance would steady him. Without waiting for another reaction, he walked toward the cabinet near the bookshelves.
You bit your lip. âOkayâŚâ
You obediently sat down in his swivel chair, a small, satisfied feeling flickering in your chest when you noticed how concernedâŚand slightly flusteredâhe seemed.
When he returned, he was holding a small first aid kit. Your breath caught slightly when he suddenly knelt in front of you.
âL-Lift your skirt, please.â he said, his tone firm but strained, his brows drawn together as he deliberately avoided looking too directly while waiting for you to comply.
Your heart stammered, green thoughts flowing inside your filthy brain.
With shaky, anticipatory hands, you lifted your skirt up to your inner thighs, purposefully raising it a little higher than necessary.
When he looked at your exposed thighs, his breath hitched. He tried to remain as calm as possible, forcing himself to focus. Slowly, he reached for the bandage, almost flinching when he felt the softness of your skin beneath the rough pad of his fingers.
âItâs too tight,â he said breathily, his hands trembling as he unwrapped the bandage from your thigh.
âIs it?â you said softly, watching the way his lips were slightly parted, his expression focused and controlled.
When the burn was finally exposed, his brows furrowed. âYou should be more careful, Y/N.â he said quietly.
He took a small tube of ointment from the kit, applying a bit to his index finger before carefully spreading it over the burn.
You winced slightly at the contact, while his attention remained fixed and steady as he worked.
âDoes it hurt?â he asked, his voice lower than usual as he briefly checked your reaction before focusing back on the injury.
You bit your lip. âJ-Just a little bit.â
He sighed harshly at that, gently rubbing the ointment in with steady movements, though you could see beads of sweat slowly forming on his forehead.
âJust a little more,â he murmured almost under his breath, applying another layer of ointment. His control was thinner now, each movement more deliberate than the last, as if he was carefully holding himself together.
When he took the new bandage, he wrapped it carefully around your burn with precise, practiced hands. Once he was done, he immediately adjusted your skirt, smoothing it down with controlled efficiencyâŚperhaps a little too quickly, as though creating distance from the moment itself.
When he stood up, you could see it more clearly now: the restraint in his posture, the tension in his jaw, the way his composure wasnât as effortless as before. He looked like he was actively holding himself back from something, grounding himself before it showed too much.
âThank you,â you said warmly, smiling up at him.
He looked down at you, tilting his head slightly at how innocent you appeared with your ribbons and braids.
Forbidden.
That night, Fr. Jeon fell into the forbidden temptation he had been trying so hard to resist.
It was ten oâclock, yet he remained inside the church office, refusing to leave the premises until his mind and soul were free of guilt.
Frustrated, he buried himself in scripture, but his thoughts kept drifting back to your soft, beautiful thighs and the rosary bracelet on your wrist that had stirred such sinful thoughts within him.
âForgive me,â he muttered under his breath, his tattooed hand sliding down his slacks to palm his hardening cock.
His lips parted. It had been a very long time since he had touched himself...he had almost forgotten how good it felt. With a shaky breath, he slowly stroked his growing erection, murmuring apologies and curses beneath his breath.
He nearly rolled his eyes back at the sensation. It felt far too good. His cock hardened with alarming ease at the mere thought of you.
Lust.
With trembling hands, he slowly pulled his cock free from his slacks. It was thick and pulsing, a bead of precum already forming at the swollen tip.
When his tattooed hand squeezed the base, more fluid gathered at the head, coating his throbbing shaft.
âJesus Christ,â he whispered under his breath, a groan escaping him as he rediscovered how good it felt to touch himself after so long.
It was sinful. Dirty.
He was still inside the church office, dressed in his usual black clerical shirt with its roman collar. Scripture lay open on his desk, and his glasses had begun to fog from the heat of his breath.
It had been years. He could no longer remember the last time he had touched a woman, nor the last time he had thought of one this way. When he devoted himself to the Lord, he had promised never to indulge in such acts again.
The longer he had restrained himself, the better it felt to finally release that tension after so many years. His cock almost ached. Thick and veiny, it twitched whenever he rolled the foreskin down.
âGod, help me.â Fr. Jeon moaned shamelessly, jerking himself in slow, deliberate strokes, determined to savor every second of it.
He gathered spit in his mouth and let it trickle down his aching shaft. The added lubrication drew a groan from him. He bit down hard on his lip as the realization struck him once moreâhow good this felt, how much he had missed touching himself.
His thoughts drifted to you.
He imagined your sweet confession about still wearing the rosary bracelet he had given you... even while bathing. The thought lingered longer than it should have, unfurling in his mind as he pictured your small, delicate hands gliding a bar of soap across your soft skin. The rosary would brush against your chest with every movement, the beads shifting and sliding as you washed your nipples.
And then his thoughts wandered further, painting one image after anotherâyour inner thighs, the way the beads might accidentally graze your soft skin as you shower. Each vision arrived unbidden, more vivid than the last, and far more difficult to suppress.
A sacred desire.
He was leaking more and more with every thought of you. The only sound echoing through the office was the wet rhythm of his hand jerking along his hard leaking cock.
Curious, he gathered a bead of precum between his thumb and index finger and brought it to his lips. The taste was salty, thick, and strangely addicting.
âOh, God,â he groaned, collecting more of it only to taste himself again.
Your forbidden thighs.
The softness of them. The way he had been close enough to imagine burying himself in their warmth. The way they flushed pink beneath his touch. The way they looked so plump and beautiful, tempting thoughts he should never have entertained.
He imagined pressing kisses along your legs, lingering there as though each touch were an act of devotion. He imagined how soft your pussy would feel beneath his lips, how he would part your folds just to stare at your glistening cunt, worshipping it with the reverence of a prayer.
Fr. Jeon was close to climaxing, using memories of your past interactions to fuel his sinful fantasies. His hand was slick with saliva and precum, his thighs tensing as he struggled to hold himself back. He tried to edge himself, to prolong the moment, because the sensation felt far too good after so many years of restraint.
Your body. Even beneath your long dresses and modest blouses, he could tell you were beautiful.
It shamed him that it had been one of the first things he noticed when he saw you wearing that rosary. The way your chest filled out your modest clothing. The way your waist appeared so delicate beneath layers of fabric. The way he found himself wondering what was hidden beneath all that lace and decency.
It was a sin he was terrified to acknowledge. A sin he was terrified to put into words.
But you were beautiful, kind, gentle, and devoted in your faith.
He wanted to fuck you.
When the shameful thought finally broke free from the restraints he had placed upon it, he came hard, his release staining the dark fabric of his slacks.
A deep groan tore from his throat as he continued to stroke himself, milking every last wave of pleasure from his body. His thumb brushed along the underside of his cock, chasing the lingering sensitivity.
âFuck, Iâm still hard,â he muttered, biting his lower lip as he glanced down at himself.
It was understandable.
After years of abstinence, it wasn't surprising that his body responded so eagerly. The restraint he had maintained for so long seemed to have shattered all at once.
Yearning.
All night, instead of losing himself in scripture, he gave in to temptation. His hand jerked shamelessly over his cock as his thoughts returned to you again and again. To every forbidden desire he had tried to suppress. To every impulse he had buried beneath prayer, discipline, and devotion.
Hours passed unnoticed.
He had so much pent-up desire, so much neglected hunger, that he remained awake until dawn, caught in an endless cycle of pleasure in jerking his insatiable cock. The office grew quiet around him while the darkness slowly gave way to morning light, yet his thoughts never strayed far from your face, your kindness, and the feelings he had spent so long denying.
And the fantasies that filled his mind were so sinful that he feared they had carried him beyond forgiveness.
âThis should do it,â you giggled to yourself, wrapping the bandage poorly on purpose so he would have an excuse to fix it for you again.
Your box of cookies was already prepared, resting neatly on your lap while you held a bible in your hands and waited for Fr. Jeon.
Unfortunately, hours passed with nothing but the sound of turning pages accompanying you. You flipped through scripture after scripture, occasionally glancing toward the door, expecting him to appear at any moment.
Yet he never came.
Confused, you eventually stepped out of the office to look for him yourself. Perhaps he was outside helping with the donations or speaking with parishioners, as he often did. But after wandering around the church grounds and checking every place you could think of, you still couldn't find him anywhere.
âWhere is he?â you pouted to yourself, a disappointed sigh slipping past your lips as you made your way back to his office.
By the time you returned, the warm glow of sunset had already begun spilling through the stained-glass windows.
Realizing he wasn't coming, you reluctantly decided to leave the cookies behind along with a small handwritten note. The thought alone made your chest feel strangely heavy.
âI miss him already,â you murmured, frowning at your own words.
It wasn't as if you could simply call or text him. Despite spending weeks at the church, Fr. Jeon had never given you his number, and you had never found the courage to ask for it. Perhaps it was because you preferred seeing him in person.
The idea of receiving his answers through a text message whenever you had questions about scripture felt disappointing somehow. You liked sitting across from him, listening to his voice as he patiently explained things to you. You liked the little smiles he gave you, the way his attention never seemed rushed, and the comfort that came with simply being around him.
That day left you unusually sad. It was the first time you hadn't seen him at all. Even when he was busy, he always managed to stop by, if only for a minute. No matter how much work he had, he never missed the opportunity to check on you.
Avoidance.
You came back today...hopeful that you would finally see him again and finally ask where he had been yesterday, you were instead met with confusion when he didnât appear again. You pouted when you noticed the box of cookies you had left behind was still untouched, exactly where you had placed it.
âThatâs odd, he canât miss a bible reading,â you murmured to yourself, already accustomed to his usual routine. He always visited the church at a certain time to pray quietly and read scripture before continuing his day, and you had grown used to waiting for him during those moments.
But days passed, and he was still nowhere to be seen.
The cookies you had prepared for him began to lose their freshness, and the papers he usually kept neatly on his desk started to gather dust. A strange sense of unease settled in your chest as you tried to understand what had changed.
You asked around the church, speaking to parishioners and volunteers, hoping someone might have seen him or could explain where he had gone. But what you learned nearly broke your heart.
He was still coming to the church every day. He just arrived earlier now.
You had always known his schedule wellâhe used to visit his office around three in the afternoon, which was why you were always there waiting at that time. You never thought he would suddenly change it without warning.
âT-Thank you,â you managed to say, forcing a small smile when one of the parishioners finally informed you that he had been seeing Fr. Jeon every morning. You were lucky this particular parishioner stayed at the church throughout the day, otherwise you might never have learned the truth.
Still, the information left you disappointed and strangely hurt.
The fact that he was visiting every day but never acknowledged your cookies. The fact that he never even left a note to explain. The fact that you had been waiting for him all this time, dressed in your usual modest dresses, as if your presence alone meant anything to him.
Tears slowly began to gather in your eyes for reasons you couldnât fully understand. It felt almost like being rejected without a single word, like a quiet heartbreak you hadnât been prepared for. It seemed as though he was suddenly avoiding you.
âWhat did I do?â you pouted softly to yourself, walking home with slumped shoulders as you tried to wipe away the tears rolling down your cheeks.
On the way, your thoughts turned over your last interaction with him. Had you been too bold? Had he noticed something in you that you thought you had hidden well? Had he finally realized that your devotion wasnât as pure as it appeared?
The more you thought about it, the more desperate you became to see him again. And instead of wanting to reveal your true ill intentions, you found yourself wishing the oppositeâthat he would see how devoted you were, how deeply you admired him, how willingly you would sacrifice your dignity just to remain close to him.
Restraint.
You didnât know that he had been avoiding you all along, because your sick plan had finally taken effect, his careful restraint crumbling like a rock under pressure.
Fr. Jeon couldnât bring himself to face you. Even the slightest eye contact felt like it would burn through his skin, your presence alone eating away at whatever remained of his guilt until there was nothing left but discomfort and temptation.
Desperate.
You woke up early that day, preparing yourself carefully so you could see him. The constant overthinking had become unbearable, and you were convinced that seeing him would finally calm your thoughts.
Slowly, you walked through the church halls, your kitten heels clicking softly against the marble floor. Your wandering gaze passed over parishioners and silent figures lost in prayer, the morning air gentle and warm as it settled over your chaotic mind. The scent of the churchâfresh flowers and holy waterâwas oddly soothing as you moved deeper inside.
But as you went further in, you nearly lost your balance when you noticed his office door slightly ajar.
Your heart began to pound in anticipation as you carefully approached. And when you finally looked inside, your eyes widened.
There he was.
In his usual black clerical long-sleeved shirt and roman collar, Fr. Jeon stood looking down at the box of cookies you had left a week ago.
Your heart sank at the realization that he must have seen the box of cookies days agoâand still chose to ignore it.
Taking a steadying breath, you stepped inside and gently closed the door behind you, locking it without hesitation.
âFr. Jeon,â you said softly.
He looked up immediately, his eyes widening as though he had seen something he shouldnât have. For a brief moment, he looked almost like he had seen a ghost. His entire body stiffened, tension tightening in his posture as he forced himself upright.
âWhat are you doing here?â His tone came out sharper than intended, almost accusatory, as he tried to regain control of himself by straightening his clerical collar and adjusting the bridge of his glasses.
You frowned at the reaction, slowly taking a step closer. Something in your chest cracked when you noticed how his expression shifted with each movement you madeâhis brows tightening, his gaze dropping as if he couldnât bear to hold it steady on you for too long.
âYou didnât get the cookies I got you,â you said with a small pout, glancing between the box and him as if the answer should have been obvious.
Fr. Jeon bit his lower lip and closed his eyes for a moment, as though needing time to steady himself.
âI was⌠busy,â he said, his throat tightening as he swallowed hard. He almost stepped back when you moved closer.
You tilted your head at him. âAm I taking too much of your time, Father?â you asked softly, your voice carrying a sad little pout.
Patience.
Fr. Jeon exhaled slowly and heavily, pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek as if trying to ground himself. Your presence alone seemed to shut down every carefully built wall he had been maintaining.
He looked down at your sad pout, and something in him nearly cracked at the sight of your sadness. For a moment, his composure faltered as fantasies surged back in, uninvited and overwhelming.
For the past few days, he had been deliberately avoiding you. He had started arriving at the church earlier, knowing you always came in the afternoon, carefully timing his routines so he would not run into you. He avoided his office as well, because every corner of it reminded him of you.
But this morning, he had come in anyway.
And the first thing he saw was the box of cookies you had left behind⌠along with a small note that said you missed him.
Desire.
For the past few nights, he had been jerking his cock non-stop. Ever since that first time, he couldnât shake the feeling, couldnât resist the urge to return to it again and againâgroaning your name under his breath like a sacred prayer.
âNo, sweetheart⌠Iâm justââ
âIâm sorry⌠I just really like it here, and I love talking to you,â you said in a soft tone, stepping closer until he could smell your vanilla perfume, your pleading eyes pulling him deeper into your orbit.
Fr. Jeon swallowed harshly, his pulse quickening at how sweet and beautiful you looked for him.
âSweetheartââ
âWould you like me to leave?â you asked quietly, biting your lower lip.
His eyes dropped to your lips. His hands curled into fists, every passing second testing his hard-earned faith and devotion.
But no...he would rather endure the torment alone, rather than risk touching your beautiful, tempting soul.
âIâm sorry, but I canât give you much of my time right now. Iâve been really busyââ Fr. Jeon said with finality.
Suddenly, you rose onto your tiptoes to meet his height and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
âItâs okay, Father⌠I understand,â you whispered, your lips lingering dangerously close to his.
Succumbed.
Before you could pull away, his hands slid to your waist, steadying youâholding you in place more firmly than expected. You were about to look at him in confusion when he suddenly crashed his lips into yours.
Your eyes widened, your body nearly falling backward, but he held you firmly in place. His kiss was harsh and desperateâlike a man starved, and you were the only water in a burning desert.
His tongue forced its way into your mouth, and the sound of his low groan sent shivers down your spine.
His brows were furrowed tightly, every bit of pent-up frustration spilling into the kiss. It was rough, consumingâhis control slipping as he pulled you deeper into it, saliva beginning to spill messily between your mouths from how intensely he claimed your lips.
When he finally pulled away, his pupils were blown wide. His lips were red and swollen, his chin damp with both of your saliva.
He released your waist almost instantly, as though you had burned him.
Swallowing hard, he stared down at your flushed cheeks and swollen lips.
Oh God. What had he done?
âW-Whatââ you stammered, bewildered, still in shock at how easily Fr. Jeonâa priest with such a good reputationâŚ.had fallen into your lips like a man undone by weakness and lust.
Surrendered.
When you saw him step back, his brows furrowing as if he had just realized what he had done, you immediately grabbed his arms.
âIâIâm sorry, this is blasphemous, Iââ
You pulled him back and kissed him again, softer this time. âI like you, Fr. Jeon. Please donât avoid me,â you almost pleaded, tugging him down so you could reach his lips again.
His eyes widened. He shook his head immediately. âY/N, n-no⌠this is wrong,â he blurted weakly, trying to grab your wrists as you pulled him closer.
Hearing those words from your mouth struck something deep in him, shaking his resolve. He couldnât fall for you, he couldnât kiss you, he couldnât touch you...he couldnât even think about you.
The only solution was to stay awayâto pretend none of this had ever happened.
You shook your head. âPlease, I want you so badly⌠thereâs nothing wrong with this,â you insisted, trying to kiss him again, but he turned away. His eyes were heavy-lidded, weakened, the air in the office suddenly suffocating.
âYou make me happy, Fr. Jeon⌠please,â you pleaded.
He shook his head firmly. âI am a priest, Y/N. This is forbidden,â he said weakly, his voice low and roughâlike every word cost him something, like it was painful to say.
âBut...why did you kiss me?â you pleaded.
Fr. Jeon groaned under his breath, his adamâs apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.
âDo you like me too, Fr. Jeon?â you pushed further, stepping closer, watching how much it seemed to strain him.
âY/N, this is wrongââ
Your lips parted. âYou...you like me,â you concluded when he didnât deny it.
A small smile formed on your lips at the confirmation. Suddenly, the past few weeks made senseâthe distance, the avoidance, the restraint. Everything clicked into place.
When he weakly let go of your wrists, you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, as if he had finally surrendered to you. His lips parted, his eyes clouded and hazy.
âSince when, Father?â you whispered, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
He shut his eyes tightly. The feeling of your hands on him was already enough to send him spiraling. His lack of physical affection was becoming obvious in the way his body reactedâhis restraint slipping under something as simple as your soft, shallow touch.
âThe first time I saw you at the church,â he whispered so low you almost didnât catch it, as though even admitting it was a sin.
You gasped, your eyes widening at the revelation that he had noticed you from the very beginning.
âI-I thought⌠you didnât recognize me. Y-You were always so busy andââ
âI did,â he cut in softly, his voice rough. âBut itâs impure of me to stare at such beauty. I cannot do that.â
His gaze dropped to your lips again, weak and conflicted.
You gasped, a fond grin forming on your beautiful face. âIndeed, thatâs very impure of youâŚFather,â you giggled.
Fr. Jeon groaned, attempting to step back again, but this time you pulled him closer and kissed him without hesitation. When you tried to part his lips with yours, you felt him shake his head, his hands gripping your waist to hold you back.
âN-No⌠we canâtââ
âShh... itâs okay, Father⌠weâll keep this a secret,â you whispered like a little devil in disguise, your pouty lips brushing against his again. âNo one will knowâŚâ
Fr. Jeon groaned, your words sending shivers down his spine. The tension between restraint and desire tightened further.
âNo, sweetheart, this is wrong⌠we shouldââ
âPlease, FatherâŚIâm already so wet.â you mumbled softly, looking at him with pleading eyes.
His eyes widened. It had been a long time since he had heard such crude wordsâespecially coming from a pretty mouth like yours.
âT-Thatâsââ he stammered, his composure slipping further under the weight of you.
âUnholy?â you giggled, taking his right hand and guiding it beneath your long skirt.
His lips parted when his fingers brushed against the wet fabric of your underwear. His cheeks and ears burned red at the realization of how aroused you were.
You bit your lip, rising onto your tiptoes to whisper against his ear.
âNo one will know.â you dragged your tongue along the shell of it, smiling when you heard him let out a soft, broken sound.
Blasphemous.
His lips grazed your inner thighs as his once devout, God-bound gaze now fixed on your bare, wet pussy. He knelt before you like you were some immaculate saint.
âY-Youâre so beautiful,â he said breathlessly, his fingers parting your folds and gently pulling back your hood to expose your sensitive clit.
You gasped loudly when he spat onto your center, his soft lips immediately wrapping around your clit, sucking in both his saliva and your wetness.
âOh, God,â you moaned.
Fr. Jeon looked almost sacred between your thighs. Your skirt was bunched at your waist just enough for him to fully indulge in your pussy, while his black clerical shirt began to stain from how much you were dripping onto him. His glasses had grown slightly fogged from the heat of his breath against your body and the warmth between your legs.
He ate your pussy like a starving man, unable to get enough. His tongue pushed inside your tight cunt in search of more, drawing more juices from you, while the obscene sounds of his mouth filled the room. His throat worked with every swallow, adamâs apple bobbing as he greedily took in every drop you gave him.
âYou taste so good,â he mumbled between your thighs, the vibration of his voice sending pleasure straight to your core.
You bit your lip, giggling softly while trying to keep your balanceâyou were leaning against his desk.
âDo you like how wet it is?â you asked, looking down at him as if amused by how much he was enjoying himself.
Fr. Jeon nodded against your cunt. âSo wet and pretty,â he mumbled, sucking your clit until his cheeks hollowed, his dimples showing each time he latched on harder.
The way he ate you out was wet and messy, continuously spitting as his lips stayed locked around your clit. You gasped when he pinched your folds together, trying to eat your entire pussy into his warm mouth.
Every time you squirmed, he tightened his grip on your thighs, groaning under his breath as if he wanted to drown himself in you completely.
Whenever he pulled back to breathe, he took a moment to stare at your swollen, messy cuntâadmiring it like something sacred, something almost holy in its beauty. He whispered how ethereal it was before spitting on it again and diving back in hungrily.
âH-How come youâre so good at that?â you moaned, looking down at his mouth as he remained relentless, your juices dripping down his chin.
Fr. Jeon looked up at you, adjusting the glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. âIâve fantasized about this,â he said with a smile. âI imagine devouring your cunt while I jerk off my cock.â
He pressed a light kiss to the top of your clit before burying his face against you again.
Your eyes rolled back at the confession, a small smirk playing on your lips. âHmm... really? Thatâs ungodly, Father.â
Fr. Jeon only groaned, pressing his face deeper until you were certain he could barely breathe. âIâm only willing to surrender myself to you.â
You gasped. The way he said it felt so wrong, so forbidden, and your pussy throbbed at the thought of him willingly committing such sinful acts, of him literally being on his knees for you.
When he felt your wetness growing, he lifted his head slightly to look at your cunt. Using his index and middle finger, he spread you open, watching as more of your milky-white juices gathered.
Fr. Jeon groaned, swallowing hard at the sight of how wet and horny you had become.
âYou like that, sweetheart?â
He gathered your juices, the pads of his fingers sliding down your slit and making you flinch. Your breath caught when you watched him scoop your cum onto his fingers and bring them to his mouth, tasting your sweetness. "You got so much wetter."
âFr. Jeon, oh myââ
He continued gathering the excess wetness, scooping up your cum until he was satisfied that you were no longer dripping. His brows furrowed as he sucked the collected juices from his fingers, unwilling to let any of it go to waste.
When he finally gathered the last drop, you frowned as he rose to his feet.
For a moment, you thought he was done. Then he brought his fingers, coated with your cum, up to your mouth.
âOpen up, sweetheart.â he whispered, his gaze lowering to your lips, swollen from how hard you had been biting them.
You slowly opened your mouth, moaning when he slid his fingers inside so you could taste your own juices mixed with traces of his saliva.
âYou taste like sin, donât you?â he said softly, his fingers twirling inside your mouth, nearly making you gag.
You sucked on his fingers, your cheeks hollowing eagerly as you looked up at him with expectant eyes. âMhm. I want to taste how pure you are, then,â you said softly, sucking his fingers the way you imagined sucking his cock.
His cock twitched inside his slacks, precum already gathering at the swollen tip.
He immediately shook his head. âWant to make you cum first, sweetheart.â
Before you could protest, he was already kneeling again, his tongue out as he buried his face between your thighs as though his life depended on it. His nose brushed against your swollen clit while his tongue alternated between slow, deliberate licks and eager suction, determined to draw every reaction from you.
The moment he sensed you were getting close, he pushed his tongue deeper, determined to suck every drop. You were about to push him away from the sudden wave of oversensitivity, but his grip on you tightened.
"I wanna swallow it, please."
You bit down hard on your lip, whispering curses beneath your breath as your body tensed. Your pussy pulsed uncontrollably, heat rushing through you as release overtook your senses.
He groaned at the way your body responded to him, your pussy throbbing vigorously against his tongue.
âI-I want to pleasure you too,â you almost cried.
He didn't stop eating you, even after you came he was sucking your pussy again. He had already made you cum several times just by eating you out. Even after your fifth orgasm, he still hadnât stoppedâstill devouring you, drawing out every last drop before spitting it back down onto your slit, pulling your folds apart just to watch it drip, then catching it again with his tongue as if he couldnât get enough.
You were already overstimulated, your thighs burning from his tight grip, but every time you looked down at him, another wave of arousal surged through you. His brows were furrowed, his eyes closed, almost as if he were praying.
âPlease, I want to eat your pussy more.â he mumbled, looking up at you through his glasses, his tongue teasing slow circles around your very swollen clit.
It had been hours. His knees were already red from kneeling, and your back ached from leaning against his desk, yet he still had the stamina to continue, again and again. His cheeks and chin were slick from your cum.
You could see his slacks strainingâŚhis arousal obvious beneath the fabricâbut he remained focused, almost pleading when you tried to push him away, his mouth still following your spent pussy as if he couldnât let go.
âPlease⌠one more, sweetheart,â he begged, his thumb soothing along your inner thighs.
When you shyly nodded, he parted your legs further, scooping up what remained of your release as it dripped down. His face pressed in close, his nose brushing against you as he worked, the carpet below you already damp with a mixture of saliva and your arousal.
Unholy.
The once-simple afternoon bible sessions had turned into something far more profane.
The moment you arrived at his office and locked the door behind you, his hands were immediately around you. He would drop to his knees, pushing your panties aside so he could press his face against your wet slit, sniffing your cunt before his tongue slipped out to taste your wetness.
âHmm⌠do you like my pussy, Fr. Jeon?â you whispered, fingers tangling in his hair as he indulged you.
He groaned against you, burying his face deeper. âLike it so much.â
He was always so desperateâneedy, almost whiny. It was obvious how deeply his years of abstinence had affected him, how long he had denied himself even the thought of such intimacy.
Every touch carried the weight of that restraint, as though all those years of self-denial had finally found an outlet. The way he ate your pussy for hours without stopping, the way he would suck your breasts until they turned swollen and red.
Every time you tried to touch him, he would pin your hands down instead. You had never really touched him yetâhe always insisted on giving first, on worshipping you instead. He would say that pleasing you was enough,that eating your cum was enough for him, that devoting himself to your body was what satisfied him most.
âShh, sweetheart⌠please be quiet.â he pleaded, his middle and index finger pushing inside your cunt, knuckles deep while massaging your spongy spot.
You were certain his fingers were already wrinkled from how long he had been fingering you, your nipples swollen and sensitive from how harshly he had been sucking them while rubbing your clit.
You bit your lip, tears almost forming in your eyes from how good it felt. âS-sorry, itâs just so good,â you mumbled incoherently.
Fr. Jeon groaned. âYeah?â He spat down where his fingers met your pussy. âHear that, sweetheart? Youâre so wet for me.â he muttered, biting your nipple harshly while his fingers continued going in and out of your wet cunt, the sounds echoing inside the church office.
You were always a whining mess. Even if he hadnât fucked you yet, your body was constantly left exhausted from how intensely he made you cum repeatedly. Your legs were always wobbly and shaking after each round, and you would always come home with new hickeys and bruises left by his harsh mouth.
He had the stamina to go on for hours and hours, until the entire afternoon was filled with nothing but wet sounds and your filthy moans echoing through his office.
You wanted to return the pleasure so badly, but every time he begged you to eat your pussy, your knees would go weak. You always gave him what he wanted, opening your legs and spreading your cunt for him.
It was one afternoon when you decided that you wanted to please him.
He was busy sucking on your nipples when you noticed how hard he was beneath his slacks. Your eyes rolling back when you saw him almost humping the air.
With a determined groan, you gently pushed him away from you. Your nipples were already pink and swollen.
âLet me taste you,â you pleaded, pressing a kiss to his cheek before trailing down his jaw.
He protested again, trying to guide you back against the couch.
âSweetheartââ
âPlease, Father.â you begged. âYou always make me cum so good. I think Iâd cum even harder if I got to taste your cock.â
You couldnât deny that he always left you more than satisfied, constantly pushing you to the edge of overstimulation. Every time it happened, you could see just how hard his cock was. Sometimes, you would even catch the subtle movements of his hips while he was buried between your thighs, completely consumed by pleasuring you.
Fr. Jeon licked his lower lip, as though contemplating whether he could truly accept the idea of you being on your knees for him. It felt like too much to bear, as if he wasnât ready for it yet. Shamefully, he was certain he would cum the moment your lips touched his tip.
But seeing you like thisâbegging, your lips drawn into a sweet poutâmade his resolve weaken. His eyes fluttered shut helplessly as you eagerly knelt in front of him.
âSweetheart,â he rasped, swallowing hard.
You looked up at him before slowly leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss against the bulge beneath his slacks.
A harsh groan escaped him. His cock throbbed beneath the fabric, and that simple, innocent kiss was almost enough to make him stumble.
When you pulled down his zipper, you gasped audibly at the sight of his black boxers, already soaked with a large patch of wetness from his precum.
âYouâre leaking, Father,â you said with a pout, looking up at him with sparkling eyes.
He sucked in a breath, his hands curling into fists as he struggled to compose himself. You looked beautiful and completely undignified at the same time, and it was becoming harder and harder for him to resist.
Slowly, you tugged down his boxers...just enough to tuck his balls and free his hard cock.
Your eyes widened.
He was huge and pretty, twitching on his own and curving upward. Thick veins ran along his shaft, and his swollen pink tip glistened with precum.
You licked your lower lip, unable to hide your anticipation at the sight of him. Leaning forward, you pressed a soft kiss to the wet tip.
A strained whimper escaped him.
His hands immediately grabbed the sides of his clerical shirt, as though physically restraining himself from losing control over something as simple as your lips touching him.
âLook at me when I suck you, Fr. Jeon.â you said, raising a brow when you noticed him avoiding eye contact.
He bit his lower lip, trying to look down at you.
You gasped when his cock twitched the moment you made eye contact.
With a teasing look, you slowly sucked his mushroom tip while keeping your eyes on him, fluttering your lashes as you took him into your warm mouth.
He groaned harshly. He was about to close his eyes, but you shook your head immediately.
âEyes on me, please.â
âOh, God,â he whimpered, looking down at you through heavy-lidded eyes as you eagerly sucked his leaking tip.
You swirled your tongue along the underside of his cock, his eyes rolling back every time you repeated the motion. When you finally pulled away, you spat on the tip, your fingers immediately spreading your saliva and his precum along the shaft, leaving him even wetter and messier.
âDo you like how I kneel for you?â you asked before taking his tip into your mouth again, trying to take him deeper until his mushroom head brushed the back of your throat. The upward curve of his cock dragged against the roof of your mouth, drawing another whimper from him.
âY-You look like a slut,â he blurted out through a moan, his jaw repeatedly tensing, his knuckles turning white from how tightly he was fisting his shirt.
You looked up at him and nodded obediently...like a good girl seeking praise.
He bit his lower lip. âMy pretty slut.â
Fr. Jeon was trying so hard not to come. He wanted to savor the feeling of your tight mouth around him for as long as possible, wanted to hold on to it, to prolong it, but you were simply too much..too pretty, too warm. Every time you took him deeper, his resolve weakened a little more.
Your eyes were already beginning to redden, your throat struggling to accommodate his thickness. Drool slipped messily down your chin, and the wet, obscene sounds coming from your mouth only pushed him closer to the edge. Each swallow, each desperate attempt to take more of him, made his chest tighten with pleasure, his restraint slipping further and further away.
Whenever you pulled back to catch your breath, you would stroke his cock quickly with your hands and spit messily onto his tip.
Before the saliva could slide down his length, you would take him back into your mouth, licking along his shaft and tracing the prominent veins with your tongue before returning to the swollen underside of his head with soft, teasing kitten licks.
Using your free hand, you reached up to cup his balls gently, applying just enough pressure to make him whimper. The movement only made it harder for him to hold himself together, especially as you continued gagging on his cock like a good little slut.
The moment you noticed him clutching his shirt again, you immediately grabbed his hand.
âUse my mouth, Father,â you whispered, guiding his hand to your hair, silently urging him to take control.
Fr. Jeon groaned and shook his head, but your eagerness never wavered. You paused, waiting patiently for him, your eyes fixed on his face.
The moment you placed your hands obediently behind your back, he nearly cursed the Lord himself.
He weakly dragged a hand through your hair, gathering it away from your face before pulling you a little closer. His jaw tightened as he looked down at you, every ounce of restraint tested by the sight of your quiet obedience.
Grabbing your hair with both hands, he guided your face toward him before finally rolling his hips, slowly thrusting into your waiting mouth.
âGod, you really are a slut,â he moaned, his composure unraveling a little more with every passing second.
Whenever he pulled back, you would twirl your tongue around the underside of his crown, earning a shaky whimper from him. Then, he would push you down forcefully onto his cock, your nose hitting his pubic hair as he lost whatever restraint he had left.
âFuck, Iâm gonna cum, sweetheart,â he whimpered.
Your mouth was already growing tired, but you remained determined, refusing to pull away. Tears gathered in your eyes and slipped down your cheeks as you struggled to keep up with him, yet you stayed exactly where he wanted you.
When he saw the tears in your eyes, he almost stopped.Â
But you eagerly took him deeper, deliberately pushing forward until your face was pressed flush against his pubic hair. Your mouth struggled to accommodate his thickness, soft gargling sounds escaping despite your efforts to suppress them, yet you took everything he gave you.
âGod, fuck.â his eyes rolled back as he released hot, thick cum into your mouth.
He was about to push you away when your hands tightened around the backs of his thighs, holding him firmly in place...determined not to let a single drop of his cum go to waste.
âSweetheart,â he said weakly.
When you finally pulled away- his cock slipping from your lips, you stuck out your tongue to show him his thick, milky cum. Your lashes fluttered as you held his gaze for a moment, letting him take in the sight before you swallowed.
Delirious.
âThe spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.â
Fr. Jeon stood before the congregation, one hand resting lightly against the pulpit as he prepared to proclaim the gospel.
âA reading from the Holy Gospel according to Matthew.â
âGlory to You, O Lord,â you whispered under your breath, your sparkling eyes lifted up toward him.
You were in your usual favorite spotâin the front row, like his favorite little church girlâyour hair tied with a white ribbon, a long modest dress hiding the sinful image beneath.
Every time he spoke, his eyes never lingered on you. He looked over the crowd like a devoted priest, delivering his words slowly, with quiet passion. And whenever he did happen to find you in the congregation, he would only glance past you, as if you were anyone else.
You smirked inwardly. Who wouldâve known that this same priest was literally begging on his knees to eat your pussy inside the church office?
When Holy Communion came, you made sure to open the first few buttons of your dress, revealing the rosary necklace you were wearingâthe small cross resting between the plush curve of your cleavage.
âThe Body of⌠Christ,â Fr. Jeon said slowly, his eyes drifting down to the rosary wrapped around your neck, the cross sitting dangerously above your breasts.
âAmen,â you said softly, parting your lips for him.
You almost smiled in quiet victory when you saw his jaw tightenâhis composure slowly, subtly fracturing beneath the weight of your sacrilegious act.
When he placed the host on your tongue, you leaned in just slightly too far, letting your tongue brush against his thumb in a fleeting, deliberate touch. So small it could be denied. So intentional it could not be mistaken.
A soft hum escaped you as you pulled back, watching the shift in himâthe way his body stilled, the way his breath caught. You were already turning away when his voice followed you, low and controlled.
âMeet me after this.â
You looked up at him, briefly thrown, but his gaze had already returned to the ritual at hand, as if nothing had happened.
Delight curled through you at the sight of him unraveling so carefully in public, holding himself together by force alone while you watched the cracks form in real time.
And when you returned to your seat, you could still feel itâthe difference. His voice had deepened into something sharper, more distant. His posture stiffened as he finished the mass, each word now measured, restrained, as though he were forcing himself back into place one line at a time.
Wicked.
Sitting properly on the couch in his office, you waited patiently for Fr. Jeon. It was the first time you would see each other up close after mass, and the thought alone made a soft, bubbling excitement bloom in your chest.
You even brought a small box of cookies for him, carefully balanced in your lap, as if sweetness alone could disguise the anticipation curling beneath your ribs.
When the office door finally opened, you looked up at once and smiled.
He stood there still in his liturgical vestments. Over his white alb, he wore a flowing chasuble that draped heavily over his shoulders, embroidered gold catching the afternoon light that spilled through the glass windows like something almost sacred in itself. A white stole rested beneath it all, marking him clearly as the celebrant of the mass, a figure meant to be untouchable.
He looked absolutely breathtakingâso holy, so distant, so unreachable.
And yet, you already had him like a servantâwilling, obedient, on his knees for you.
When he walked toward you, his expression was serious and unyielding. You stood up quickly, excitement lifting you, holding out your small gift for him.
âGood afternoon, Fr. Jeon. I got you cookiââ
The cookies slipped from your hands as he suddenly closed the distance, his hand wrapping around your throat. The rosary beads pressed sharply into your skin.
âI told you...that rosaries are not meant to be worn around your neck, didnât I?â he said in a mocking tone, his voice low and controlled. His eyes looked darker behind his glasses.
His liturgical vestments suddenly felt overwhelming in this close space, no longer distant or ceremonial, but imposing, almost suffocating, as if you were only now realizing the weight of him in this proximity.
You gasped as his fingers tightened slightly around your throat, not enough to hurtâjust enough to demand an answer.
âY-You did, Father.â
âMhm. I did,â he murmured, tilting his head slightly. âDidnât I?â
A shiver ran down your spine as you felt the shift in himâhow his composure had snapped so suddenly, as if the thin thread of his restraint, stretched in the presence of the Lord, had finally given way.
Dominance.
You gasped when he kissed you hard, cutting off your breath in an instant. His other hand bunched up the long skirts of your dress, hot palms slipping beneath the fabric to cup your warm pussy.
âYouâre so impure,â he chuckled darkly, his fingers tracing over your clothed clit.
A soft moan escaped you as you tried to wriggle in his hold, but his grip at your throat kept you firmly in place.
âSit on my desk and spread your legs,â he commanded, releasing you all at onceâboth your throat and your pussy.
With shaky legs, you moved toward his desk, climbing onto it and bunching your long skirt up around your waist before slowly spreading your legs wide for him.
Fr. Jeon walked toward you, his gaze fixed on the sight of youâso openly willing for him. The rosary cross rested between your breasts like a sin made visible, the white ribbons in your hair now looking almost tainted, your dress bunched up enough to expose your wet cunt to him.
His fingers closed around the rosary you were wearing. Your breath hitched as he slowly pulled it, forcing your neck to tilt forward with the motion.
âYouâre such a whore, wearing this around me,â he said in a condescending tone, drawing you closer until he pressed a shallow kiss to your lips.
âI-Isnât it pretty?â you asked weakly, still trying to tease him.
He let out a humorless chuckle. Without another word, he reached for the scripture on his desk. âIâll show you whatâs pretty.â
You gasped as he pulled the rosary again, forcing you forward while his other hand held the bible. âOpen your mouth.â
Confused, you slowly obeyed, your eyes widening when he suddenly placed the book between your teeth.
âHold still and bite the scripture,â he commanded sharply before spreading your legs wider.
You bit down hard on the book as he suddenly slapped your cunt.
âMhmp!â you whimpered, eyes watering from the intensity of it.
Fr. Jeon raised a brow. He lifted his hand, bringing his fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean, his gaze locked on you as he slowly dragged his tongue over them. You bit down harder on the book when he used his saliva-coated fingers to slap your cunt again.
âShh, quiet, sweetheart⌠there are other people outside- praying,â he said mockingly, tugging lightly on the rosary around your neck.
You bit down harder when he slapped your cunt again, pulling harshly on the rosary around your neck whenever your whimpers escaped.
âPoor baby⌠you want me to finger you?â he cooed, slapping your cunt once more. Your panties were already soaked, your arousal building from the relentless stimulation.
You eagerly nodded, drool spilling past your lips and onto the scripture beneath you. Your neck was beginning to ache and swell each time he tugged on the beads.
âDo you deserve it?â he asked, twirling the rosary between his fingers, playing with it slowly.
A tear slipped down your cheek when he slapped your cunt again. Your thighs tried to wriggle on the table, but he only pulled harder on the rosary in response.
âItâs okay, sweetheart. Iâm finally going to give you what you want,â he said, letting go of you.
Your eyes almost rolled back when you saw him kneel.
You drooled messily against the book when he flipped your panties aside, three of his fingers immediately slipping inside you to stretch your cunt.
âSo tight, sweetheart,â he chuckled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your clit while his fingers continued to thrust inside you.
Each time his fingers pulled back, a fresh gush of wetness spilled out, revealing just how needy and aroused you were.
Looking down, you saw how godly he lookedâkneeling so close to your pussy, lips parted as he watched his fingers disappear in and out of your tight hole.
âMhmph,â you whimpered, his fingers knuckles deep inside you, brushing against your spongy spot and leaving you wriggly and tingly.
âYouâre so soaked, sweetheart. Itâs so hard to rub you properly like this⌠so, so wet.â
When he saw how restless you were getting, he suddenly removed his fingers. You were about to frown when he stood up, your eyes widening as he began removing his chasuble and slacks.
âThis is what you wanted, right?â he taunted, finally revealing his hard cock.
It was already thick and hard, twitching on its own before he even touched it. Prominent veins pulsed along the girth, and his mushroom tip looked swollen and flushed. Using his fingers, he squeezed the plump head, drawing out more precum before spreading it along the shaft. He slowly rolled the foreskin down, his gaze fixed on your helpless body.
âDo you want this cock inside your tight little pussy?â he said breathily, jerking his hard cock in his handâŚhis eyes were heavy-lidded, lips slightly parted.
You nodded eagerly, tears spilling down your cheeks from anticipation. Your pussy pulsed hard, leaking more of your arousal down onto the table beneath you.
He chuckled, gripping both of your thighs and spreading them wider for him. âHold your skirt up, sweetheart,â he murmured, as your long skirt kept drifting down while he positioned you.
With weak hands, you slowly bunched your skirt up. Your jaw was already aching from biting down on the book, but you were determined to be a good girl for him, biting down harder as your eyes turned red and your cheeks flushed, warm and swollen.
When he positioned his mushroom tip against your slit, you almost dropped the book. The feeling of his wet cock against your folds sent a sharp jolt through you.
âGonna fuck you now, sweetheart,â he whispered, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your forehead.
Your teeth nearly ached from how hard you bit down when he suddenly pushed inside you. Your tight walls immediately sucked him in. You watched his lips part in shock, his eyes rolling back for a momentâbefore he could even thrust, you felt him spilling inside you.
âFuck, sweetheart,â he cursed under his breath, trembling as he suddenly came so hard inside you, his lips parting at how good your pussy felt.
You were so warm and tight that he was already convulsing. His grip on your waist tightened so hard it was almost painful. You were shockedâyou hadnât expected him to cum that quickly, but then again, it had been so long since heâd done anything like this. The pent-up frustration was overwhelming, and the moment he felt you, he was already shaking.
When you saw him trembling, you slowly removed the book from your lips. Your jaw ached, but you still managed to give him a small, weak smile.
âMhm, am I tight, Fr. Jeon?â you whispered weakly, feeling him twitch inside you, filling you with so much cum that it had you feeling completely full.
"T-Too tight." he groaned.
His arms were growing weaker, still trying to push his cum deeper and deeper into your cunt. His cock was already overstimulated and softening, but he still wanted his cum buried deep inside you, some of it already dripping down your thighs.
He groaned, pushing his cock deeper until he was finally hard again. You could feel his mushroom tip swell once more, your pussy stretching around his thickening girth.
âYou feel so good,â he whispered, eyes heavy-lidded as he looked down at you. He had come so hard he had nearly forgotten about the book he made you bite down on, his rational thoughts slipping away completely, leaving only the heat and the feeling of you.
You bit your lip, opening your legs wider. âYeah? Do you miss having such a warm pussy around your cock?â
His lips parted...his right hand returned to your neck, fingers wrapping around your throat.
âWhat a dirty mouth you have,â he whispered breathily, like he was only just remembering why he was fucking you so hard in the first place.
He squeezed your throat, earning a loud whimper from you.
Before you could coo at him, he was already flipping you over, bending you against his desk. He immediately grabbed the book, shoving it forcefully into your mouth.
âYou think Iâm done, huh?â he taunted, kneeling down behind you.
You groaned, biting down on the scripture again, whimpering loudly when you felt him spreading your wet pussy from behind.
âPush my cum out for me,â he said, opening your folds and waiting for you to push it out.
You contracted your pussy, and a gush of his milky white cum spilled from your used hole. Before it could even drip onto the floor, his tongue was already there, scooping it up and swallowing everything until no trace was left.
When he stood up, you were left a trembling mess. Your eyes widened as he pulled on the rosary necklace, the beads wrapping around your throat like a collar. He used it as leverage before pushing his cock back inside you.
âShh⌠bite down on the scripture. Let it silence your impurity,â he murmured behind you, thrusting deeper and harder until your body was nearly bouncing against the table from the force of it.
You wanted to moan so badly. The way his mushroom tip kept brushing against your g-spot felt so overwhelming. When he angled his hips in slow circular motions, your weak lips finally dropped the book, and you gasped as it hit the floor with a dull thud.
The moment he felt you slipping out of control, he stoppedâonly for you to immediately reach for the book. Before you could even grab it, he flipped you onto your back again.
âFucking whore, canât follow simple instructions while my cockâs deep inside you, huh?â he taunted, ripping the buttons of your dress just enough to expose your breasts.
âI-Iâm sorry, Iââ
You shrieked loudly when he suddenly slapped your nipples, the area turning immediately pink.
âStay there,â he commanded.
You went still at once, your weak eyes following his movements as he reached into the bottom cabinet of his desk.
When he stood up again, he was holding a candle and a box of matches. âHold this, sweetheart.â
He usually used those candles during scripture readings, letting the flame illuminate the pages.
You held it for him as instructed, watching as he struck a match and lit it, the small flame flickering to life before he set the match aside.
You turned slightly, glancing toward the window. There was still daylight outsideâenough to see clearly. Before you could ask what he needed it for, he took the candle from your hand.
âFr. Jeon, w-what are youââ
Your eyes widened when he tilted the candle downward, the wax threatening to drip onto your breasts. You gasped sharply when it finally landed on your nipple.
âDoes it feel good?â he whispered, lowering the candle toward the other bud.
When the hot wax fell onto your other nipple, you moaned loudly, your hands gripping the edge of the desk as pain and pleasure collided.
It was hot and shockingâyet, for some reason, the sting felt addictive, almost intoxicating.
âY-Yes, Father.â you bit your lower lip hard, watching as the candle was now directed toward your inner thighs.
He raised a brow, your nipples already covered in white wax. âYeah? Does this get you wet?â
Before you could answer, he was already pouring hot wax onto your left inner thigh. The pain there was sharper, more intenseâlike the skin was far more delicate and sensitive. When you instinctively tried to close your legs, he held them open, spreading you wider as he moved the candle to drip more wax onto your right inner thigh.
âOh, God,â you moaned loudly, the hot wax dripping dangerously close to your wet pussy.
You were already trembling. The mix of heat and pain felt overwhelming yet addictive, tears falling uncontrollably down your cheeks.
Fr. Jeon chuckled at you. âWhat a pretty little pain slut⌠Iâm supposed to punish you with this, but youâre dripping like a whore.â
He grabbed your cheeks, raising the candle up toward your face. âMake a wish,â he whispered.
You looked up at him with weak eyes, your nipples and inner thighs still burning and oversensitive from the wax. With a faint, shaky smile, you told him your wish.
âFuck me like a slut, Fr. Jeon." you said breathily.
He growled harshly, stepping back a little to admire his work on your body, how the wax was covering your skin like a sin, how your pussy was so swollen and red, yet your hole was still eagerly twitching to be used.
He tilted his head. âYou want that, sweetheart?â he said sweetly, his tone contradicting what he had just done to you.
You nodded eagerly. "Please, use my body like a whore, cum inside me until Iâm dripping full of your cum, abuse my tight little pussy until Iâm all loose and gaping, release all your forbidden frustrations and destroy my dignity.âÂ
Fallen.
You couldnât count the number of times you came around his cock that nightâhis cock thrusting so hard and deep inside you that you could feel how stretched your pussy was.
Every time you tried to fight him, he would push your body down onto the desk, threatening to silence you with scripture whenever you tried to break free from his hold.
When you thought he was done, he would maneuver your body again, spreading your legs wide so he could fuck you hard. His cross necklace would dangle in your face with every thrust. Whenever you moaned too loudly, he would punish you by dripping hot wax onto your inner thighs.
He would always condescendingly praise you, telling you what a poor little girl you were, letting him use you for his own sick pleasure.
"God, you'd let me use you whenever I want wouldn't you? Letting me fuck this tight pussy inside the church, like a good little christian." he would whisper.
It was so lewd when he asked you to touch yourself using the hand that wore his birthstone bracelet, urging you to part your lips for him, watching how the beads would brush over your clit every time you fucked your fingers inside your used, swollen hole.
"That's right...stretch your pussy, sweetheart. I want you nice and gaping when I fuck you again."
Then he would pull your body up, forcing you to bounce on his cock while pressing the beads deeper into your throat. He held both of your cheeks with his free hand so he could continually spit into your parted mouth, watching it drip messily down your chin like a cheap filthy whore. "I love how sinful and dirty you are...so perfect for me."
Capitulated.
You never forgot him, after that night he vanished like a wind.
When you heard that he had suddenly been appointed to another city, it felt as though the ground had been pulled from beneath your feet. Overnight, he was simply gone. The weekly sunday mass was no longer presided over by him, and no matter how many people you asked, nobody seemed to have a clear answer as to why.
All you heard were rumors.
Some said he wanted to experience ministry in a different city. Others claimed he had become so busy that he was constantly traveling between churches, handling responsibilities in several places at once. Every explanation sounded vague, rehearsed, and unsatisfying.
You wanted to believe them. But you couldn't.
For months, you carried that bitterness inside you. A part of you convinced yourself that he had simply left. That perhaps everything you shared had meant far less to him than it had to you. The thought hurt more than you cared to admit, especially because, between the two of you, you had been the dishonest one. You had been the one who approached him with hidden intentions, who slowly seduced him, who carefully led him into your snare while pretending to be an innocent church girl.
Yet somewhere along the way, things had changed.
For all your lies, for all your schemes and carefully crafted devotion, you couldn't deny what had happened to your own heart. You had fallen in love with his kindness. Not because he was a priest. Not because he was forbidden. Not because winning his attention felt like a challenge.
But because it was him.
It was the way he remembered small details about you. The way he listened whenever you spoke. The way he always treated people with patience and warmth. Somewhere between the scripture lessons, the afternoon conversations, and the countless boxes of cookies, your feelings had become real.
Then, one afternoon, a letter arrived.
Your hands trembled as you opened it, your heart pounding with a mixture of hope and dread. As your eyes moved across the page, tears immediately gathered in them.
All this time, you had believed he left because he wanted to.
The truth was far worse.
Someone had noticed. Someone had seen the way he treated you differently from everyone elseâthe way his gaze lingered a little too long, the way his voice softened whenever he spoke to you, the way he always seemed to make time for you no matter how busy he was. And eventually, they had discovered what happened behind the closed doors of the church office.
Tears slipped down your cheeks as you continued reading, your vision blurring with every line. For the first time since he disappeared, you finally understood why he had left.
The moment the parish discovered what had happened, he immediately apologizedâto the church, to his superiors, and most of all, to the Lord. He had even offered his resignation, believing he was no longer worthy of his position.
But they refused. The parish forgave him.
They told him he was too kind, too devoted, too valuable to lose over a mistake. Instead of removing him from the priesthood, they gave him a chance to start over in a different city, far away from the rumors and whispers. They told him that what happened was a test of faith. A temptation. That God would always be stronger in his heart than any earthly attachment.
You were the temptation they spoke about.
You never wrote back, you never tried contacting him again. Because if he had truly wanted you, he would have resigned. He would have walked away from the collar, from the church, from the life he had chosen long before you entered it.Â
He would have chosen you.
Instead, when forced to decide between you and God, he surrendered himself to God. And that answer was enough.
With a deep breath, you entered the confession booth. You wanted to confess your sins, you wanted to move on.
It had been two years, and somehow you were still holding on to him.Â
Whenever Sana mentioned his name, your eyes would sting with unshed tears. Whenever you heard stories about himâŚhow successful he had become, how respected he was as a priest nowâŚan ache would settle deep inside your chest.
You could no longer step inside a church without thinking about him.
The stained-glass windows, the scent of incense, the quiet hum of prayer before mass. Every sacred thing had become tangled with the memory of him, until devotion and desire were no longer things you could separate.
So, with a heavy heart, you finally decided to let him go.
Sitting inside the confessional that afternoon, your fingers twisted nervously in your lap as you gathered the courage to speak.
A thin wooden partition stood between you, a barrier meant to separate priest from sinner, confession from judgment, devotion from temptation.
âBless me, FatherâŚ. for I have sinned.â you said softly, behind the confession grille.
Your voiceâŚsoft and unforgettable, echoed through the small confessional booth.Â
The familiar scent of vanilla wrapped around him like a memory he had spent years trying to forget.Â
Iâm absolutely heartbroken and devastated that I have to make a post like this.
Today I received some devastating news about my cat. He's 16 years old, and for a very long time he's been the greatest joy in my life. The diagnosis confirmed that he has cancer.
The situation is complicated, and the only appointment I was able to secure with a specialist is in another country. Between the travel, examinations, and potential treatment, the costs are going to be significant.
I know my writing has been less frequent lately. Those of you who have followed me for a while know why Iâve always tried to be open about whatâs been going on in my life. Right now, though, I'm struggling to focus on much of anything. I'm heartbroken, scared, and trying to do everything I can for him.
I don't usually ask for help, but the reality is that I simply don't have the financial capacity to comfortably cover these expenses on my own right now. If you've ever enjoyed my writing and have wanted to support my work, I'd be incredibly grateful if you considered supporting me through my Ko-fi. Thereâs absolutely no obligation, and I never want anyone to feel pressured, but any support would genuinely help me give him the best chance possible.
Iâll do my best to write more when Iâm able, and I'd like to create some extra content for my Ko-fi supporters as a thank you. For the moment, Iâm trying to hold on.
Thank you for reading, and thank you for all the kindness and support you've shown me over the years. It means more than you know.
The Right Kind of Man | Series Masterlist | MYG (M)
Tired of being treated like a glass doll your entire life, all you were looking for was someone who wasn't afraid to be a little rough. Instead, you met Yoongi, a 99% certified nice guy. Still, a little one night stand couldn't hurt, right?
Author: @syllviere
Pairing: Interior Designer!Yoongi x Chaebol Reader
Genre: Series; Mafia AU; Strangers to Friends to Lovers; Smut; Fluff; Mature Themes
Series Tags: profanity; alcohol; unreliable narrator; violence; chronically ill reader; explicit sexual content, soft dom Yoongi, two idiots with a praise kink; if you don't like being called a good girl, this isn't the fic for you; rough sex, biting, scratching, thigh fucking, very light bondage, overstimulation, cock gagging, erotic asphyxiation/breathplay, simulated choking, knifeplay, fingering (f vaginal and anal), oral (m and f), unprotected sex, hair pulling, body and pussy spanking, nipple play, cockwarming, breeding kink?, somnophilia if you SQUINT; this was supposed to be only filth but Iâm a soft romantic and I make no apologies
I will read anything that you put out. Would you be still interested doing the head cannon line you did last time?
i mean fuck if??!!
âyou just werenât man enoughâ, with ex boyfriend jungkook!
warnings: alcohol intake, dirty talk, semi-hate fucking, unprotected sex, fingering, face slapping, ass slapping, mirror sex??, fuck it dirty bathroom sex with your ex!!
ex boyfriend jungkook, who you shouldâve expected to see here at this get together. you and he shared the same friends, regardless if you and he werenât together anymore.
ex boyfriend jungkook, who just had to arrive in the way he did, the roaring of the motorcycle sounding so loudly that you heard him right down the street, and when he arrived, you couldnât help but roll your eyes at the dramatic sight of him.
ex boyfriend jungkook, who only gives you a glance before he makes his way inside the home, greeting everyone with a smile on his lips, boba-like eyes sparkling.
ex boyfriend jungkook, the man who noticed the way your hips sway when you walk past him, your skirt entirely too short for you to not want him to look. your shirt is mesh, your bra black and cupping your breast nicely.
ex boyfriend jungkook, who has to look away from you when he realizes that heâs been staring far too hard and long that his eyes begin to burn, the moisture in his eyes beginning to dehydrate if he didnât blink soon.
ex boyfriend jungkook, who decided that you and he werenât together anymore and thus things didnât need to be awkward. thus, he joins in on the festivities, even if you and he donât talk and only give subtle glances.
ex boyfriend jungkook, who looks so good that you want to continue to roll your eyes. of course in jungkook fashion, he makes sure to show off his toned arms, his sleeveless shirt showcasing the tattoo sleeve you remember tracing once upon a time while in bed together.
ex boyfriend jungkook, who watches the way you down the shots alongside your best friend, and woman whoâs been glaring daggers at him the entire time - he wasnât fond of her either. she was always getting into your head while you were in a relationship with him - there was a reason why that bitch was single.
ex boyfriend jungkook, who is now forced into an awkward three-way hug by a tipsy jimin. âthaaaank you both for coming!â he sing-songs, not caring if the tension between the two of you were present. âyou two look so good! did you dress to impress one another?â
ex boyfriend jungkook, who before he could respond and deny it - even if he cut the sleeves on his shirt himself before coming, wore the cologne you swore was your favorite on him and even got a fresh cut - you do. âas if iâd ever do anything to impress that man.â even if you yourself had intentionally worn the shortest skirt you owned with the same lacy panties that jungkook bought you, even if you werenât going to directly show him.
ex boyfriend jungkook, who snaps back, âitâll take more than a slutty skirt to impress me, either way.â even if it was a complete lie because heâs having a hard time not to look down at you right now - but he has a point to prove. âbesides, that bitch of a friend mustâve dressed her. sheâs never dressed like that before.â
ex boyfriend jungkook, hears jimin giggle in the middle of you two, his head thrown back at the obvious conversation heâs instigated between the two of you that isnât so obvious to you or jungkook. âso you admit she looks good?â he asks.
ex boyfriend jungkook snorts and rolls his eyes, because now heâll be damned if he admits that to you. you do, he thinks, and from here he can smell that warm vanilla lotion you love to use. âwhat i meant was,â he glances at you. âitâs obvious she wants someoneâs attention.â
ex boyfriend jungkook scoffs when you laugh, but your eyes remain hard. ânot you.â you spat out. âtypical for you to think that, though. you were always insecure about other men looking at me.â
ex boyfriend jungkookâs eyes harden at you, he bites the inside of his cheek. his heart quickens, the alcohol flowing through him making his body radiate with even more heat. but youâre more upset that you continue to talk - âthatâs why we ended things, right?â
ex boyfriend jungkook, who focuses so hard on you that he doesnât realize that jimin had removed his arm from around the two of you. he backs away slowly because his work here was done. he was tired of hearing how much jungkook missed you and how lonely you felt without talking to jungkook throughout the day.
ex boyfriend jungkook responds. âyeah, because it was easier than you to just stop being stubborn.â he hisses. âso now look at you. single just like that friend you listen to.â
ex boyfriend jungkook is nearly chest to chest with you, peering down at you with equally glaring eyes. his heart jolts with excitement that he does hold your attention, even if its with irritation and annoyance.
ex boyfriend jungkook whoâs left dumbfounded when you do respond to him - âand look at you. still insecure like i knew you would be.â you donât mean it, but one thing you and jungkook were when heated like this was toxic. you both said things you didnât mean. âyou just werenât man enough for me, kookie.â
ex boyfriend jungkook watches the way you turn away and walk in the crowd. heâs stunned at your word, but that soon turns to humiliation and anger. he stalks after you, watching the way you stop at a table full of people and drinks and pick up to take a shot.
ex boyfriend jungkook who snatches you by your bicep as you place the shot to your lips and down it. the small plastic cup drops from your fingers as youâre forced to look at a seething jungkook - thereâs a sudden throbbing between your legs at the dark look in his eyes. âsay it again.â
ex boyfriend jungkook, doesnât care about the attention heâs drawing in the crowded people. itâs (of course) jimin who draws it all back by coming through with more shots. he tugs at your bicep again, this time tightening his grip. âsay it again,â he repeats, his voice dropping to a whisper that you hear clear as day. âdonât act shy now.â
ex boyfriend jungkook who has you pinned against the bathroom door, locking it behind you. his lips are at your neck, suckling as if it was his life force. your hand is tugging at his shirt as his tattooed hand find itâs way between your legs. ânot man enough?â he breaths, his fingers finding the lacy fabric of your now damp panties. âyou get this wet for someone who isnât man enough?â
ex boyfriend jungkook who finds his fingers pulling those lazy panties to the side to swipe at your puffy clit. he groans loudly, the music behind the door gets louder - yet again, jiminâs doing. he brings his fingers to his lips and plop them right into his mouth, the lewd act you witness having your knees buckle. âjust how i remembered.â
ex boyfriend jungkook, who plunges his fingers deep inside of you, holding you right in place against the door so you donât have anywhere to squirm to. your head is back against the door, your mouth open to let out such pleasured moans for a man that you said wasnât enough.
ex boyfriend jungkook says, âyour pussy missed being played with, huh?â so smugly, because he knows the truth. Your arousal pools all around you - on your thighs, down his wrist to the floor.
ex boyfriend jungkook laughs when you bite back a âfuck youâ followed by a push of his chest. âyeah, youâd like me to, huh?â he hisses, his fingers plunging deeper that his palms slams against your clit for added pleasure. âyou always liked to be fucked so disrespectfully.â
ex boyfriend jungkook slaps you - itâs sudden and in the heat of the moment, but right there you cum all around his fingers. why does he slap you? It was the âi faked it to boost that pathetic ego of yours.â that sent him.
ex boyfriend jungkook who bends you over the counter, the mirror in front of you two showcasing just how fucked out you are that there was no way your words werenât anything but lies. âfaked it, huh?â jungkook forces your thighs apart, his hand tugging down your panties fully that he realizes it's the same pair heâs gifted you. âwore these for me, baby?â
ex boyfriend jungkook who shoves his own pants down, followed by his underwear to reveal his hardened cock, pink and angry, dripping with pre-cum and ready to feel you again. âof course not.â you lie easily. âi wore it for a man that could actually handle me.â
you say it because you know itâs what would rile up ex boyfriend jungkook and just as you expected, thereâs a rough smack against your ass, then, you feel him. youâre so tight, jungkook thinks, his eyes fluttering as he enters your sweet pussy raw.
ex boyfriend jungkook whoâs mind dramatically showcases it all - a rushing waterfall surrounded by bliss; butterflies and singing birds with an endless shining sun - a world so euphoric that he never wants it to end. he ruts his hips, groaning loudly at how amazing you felt.
ex boyfriend jungkook who loves how beautiful your pussy sounds as he fucks you from behind. It gushes and squelches loudly for him - someone who wasnât man enough. âi missed the way this pussy felt around me,â he groans, eyes fixed on the way your ass bounces against him. âif only you could see how wet she is, baby. you still faking it?â
ex boyfriend jungkook slaps your ass again when you stutter out a âf-fuck y-you!â he does it again, and again - and again. It only makes your pussy wetter and even tighter. Were his eyes deceiving him, or did you widen your legs for him?
ex boyfriend jungkook who fucks your so deliciously that your eyes roll. you attempt to hold onto something, but thereâs nothing sturdy enough to do so. itâs as if jungkook knows, however, and his hand reaches for yours. âI got you, babyâ he says so tenderly in your ear.
just by the tone in which ex boyfriend jungkook speaks to you has you submitting far quicker than you wanted. his breath on your ear that also tickles your skin - you missed him more than you thought youâd would. âmore~â you plead.
ex boyfriend jungkook gives you exactly what you ask him for. his free hand slides up from your waist to underneath your shirt until he has a firm grip on your breast. his cock springs deep inside of you, hitting that spot he knows all too well. your back arches, wanting to feel more and more of him.
ex boyfriend jungkook who squeezes your breast in his palms so tightly, panting against your neck. youâre the wettest youâve ever been in months and he feels every bit of pleasured arousal. âfeel so good, baby~â he whimpers against your neck. âdid you miss me?â
ex boyfriend jungkook that doesnât meant to ask you that. he doesnât want to get too sentimental and allow feelings into this. it would do nothing but disappoint him, but he desperately wants to hear the answer. âyeah,â he hears you breath out, your pussy squeezing him tighter and tighter. âyeah i-iâŚmissed you.â
ex boyfriend jungkook who presses his lips to yours when you turn your head to look at him with blurred eyes. he forces his tongue into your willing mouth, his thrusts becoming sloppy. it was obvious that he missed you, too, more than you knew. he wonders if you deleted the text threads on your phone, and if not, had you opened it and typed before erasing the messages? had you clicked on his contact and contemplated on hitting âcallâ before deciding against it?
ex boyfriend jungkook who says âme, too.â when you exclaim that youâre cumming. but he doesnât want it to end. he doesnât want for things to back how they were - subtly awkward glances and heated exchanges. âcome with me tonight,â
youâre cumming first, your thighs shaking as that warm feeling radiates through you. ex boyfriend jungkook cums immediately after, barely able to pull himself out of you - he doesnât want to you didnât want him to. warm cum spills all over your inner thigh, his body collapsing on top of yours as you and him pant.
itâs silent in the restroom as you and ex boyfriend jungkook get cleaned. the music is still loud from the outside. for a moment, jungkook has forgotten where he was and just why you and he came here.
It isnât jungkook who breaks the silence first. youâd pull your panties up after cleaning yourself off, glancing jungkookâs way. âi didnât mean it.â you murmur, voice low. âi was just upset.â
ex boyfriend jungkook clears his throat. âi know,â he responds. âi was, too.â
this is exactly what ex boyfriend jungkook wanted to prevent. the awkwardness that came after such a high. his heart jolts, his throat tightening. âi miss you.â he admits again. âyou donât have to say it back.â he quickly interjects. âi justâŚwant you to know.â
you donât say it back, even if ex boyfriend jungkook wants to hear you say it again. instead you run a hand through your hair. âthanks for telling me.â
ex boyfriend jungkook who nods his head softly.
you exhale. âcan i go with you tonight?â you ask ex boyfriend jungkook, your eyes lingering on his, a pleading look - though you didnât need it. the answer is always âYesâ as Jungkook says
Here are some BTS Fanfics series that Iâm currently reading! Just wanted to have them in one list so I dont forget. I will keep updating this list as the I read more fics!
Sweet On You by @redrose10
When a guarded billionaire offers you a paid arrangement, his money in exchange for your companionship, it sounds simple. No expectations. No emotions. Just fun for both of you. But somewhere between luxury trips, late-night conversations, and the way he almost kisses you on a moonlit beach, the lines between business and something far more dangerous begin to blur.
Anything You Can Do⌠by @yoongleboonglepie
You thought you hated Namjoon. He's annoyingly smart, frustratingly perfect, and always in your fucking way. Your mom thinks he's the best thing since sliced bread; You think he's the worst thing to ever walk this planet. Yet as your body starts to fail you, it seems he's the only one around enough to notice. And for some frustrating reasonâhe makes it his full-time job to care about it.
Wildest Soul by @borathae
âFor if she doesnât, he will never find calm.
The healer and the knight,
connected by fate,
find peace in each other
and comfort at night.â
Money and Power by @mnipretty
She comes from old money. Although many correlate money with power, she only has one. She wants- no, she needs power. When she meets him, richer, smarter, completely independent (and also fucking hot), she makes a plan to seek freedom. Marriage.
Liaison by @layover-mp7 completed â
Youâre Jungkookâs coordinator for the few days that he is in town for work. Youâre good at your job and don't tend to let the lines blur, but being at his beck and call gives him other ideas.
Help Wanted by @merakoo đ
In order to make ends meet you pick up a side job as the nanny of a brooding, cold perfectionist by the name of Jeon Jungkook â while in the process of doing so, you might've ended up twisting the narrative about your education just a little. Watching over a few children couldn't be too hard, right? Only Jungkook is very peculiar about how he wants things done â strict routines, meal plans and tedious study hours that make the Jeon estate feel more like a military camp than a home â and it's only a matter of time until cracks in the seemingly perfect facade begin to form
Arirang by @muniimyg
jungkook is freshly single after a long term relationship. oc has never really committed to anyone. in between their understanding of casualâtwo lines appear on a stickâand suddenly leaving, staying, and loving are something else entirely
Salt on the Shoreline by @jeonsdeerbaby
getting lost on an island wasnât part of jungkookâs plan.
he only came to jeju to escape the noise of the city for a while â no schedules, no expectations, no people who knew his name. just the sea, the wind, and quiet roads that stretched along the shoreline. meeting you wasnât part of the plan either. but somehow, between tangerine orchards, late sunsets, and the salt in the air, leaving the island starts to feel harder than staying.
Anatomy of a Vampire by @jeonstudios
a young man returns to a small town he hasn't seen in years, and a house he hasn't lived in since before the last president was born, only to find that a stray cat has given birth to kittens in his closet.
Bread and Breath by @tarathetic đ
Hazelâs home, once beautiful, now feels like a cage of grief after her husbandâs deathâmade heavier by a fragile, high-risk pregnancy. To survive, she hires Jeon Jungkook, a cold, precision-driven chef tasked with managing every meal for her and the growing baby inside her. Their agreement is simple: no emotions, no boundaries crossedâjust care and control. But in the quiet house, where knives echo and spices linger, distance begins to blur. His discipline falters as he notices too much; her broken heart begins to lean on his silent care. Between strict diets and stolen glances, tension buildsâsoft, dangerous, and impossible to ignore. Because somewhere between keeping her alive⌠and protecting the life within her, they begin to break every rule they ever set.
Between Collisions by @saltedcaramelcupcakes
It all began with a small accident. A small car crash. A name known by everyone. And a woman who chose to leaveâ not because she didnât care, but because she cared too much. Because sometimesâ love isnât about finding each other. Itâs about whether you can hold on⌠when the world tries to tear you apart.
Aphrodite in War by @jungblue
Everyone knew about the war that had been brewing on the edge of campus for the past two years. Sorority versus Fraternity; a showdown for the ages. However, when the escalating antics between them yields the consequence of possible suspensions for both chapters, the presidents of each house must come together to try and figure out how to end this battle... Which is kind of hard, considering they were the ones responsible for it in the first place.
Off The Record by @d2dayyoongi
You werenât looking for anything. Not between deadlines, late nights at the studio, and helping your best friend plan her wedding. Min Yoongi definitely wasnât either. But somewhere between shared silences, quiet understanding, an unbothered cat and a energetic puppy⌠something begins to shift.
To the authors °ââ.ŕłŕż*:ｼ
Thank you for your continuous hard work, and I hope you get all the time and rest to complete these amazing works of art.
I was WAITING to add your series heređ and then i found out that there were already 2 chapter out, and instantly loved reading themđ Canât wait for chapter 3!
blakekathryn
kaledo-art
jbbartram-illu
izzy806
janainaart
baratheonpilled
